#just for the record i absolutely hate this man and yes unfortunately he happens to be my boyfriend. don't talk to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zaceouiswriting · 1 year ago

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The good Dad

Character: Bruce Wayne (father), male reader (son)

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Fluff

You've never been more nervous than you are right now. Asking your father to talk was nerve-wracking enough, but sitting in his imposing office? That was something completely different. There are only two reasons anyone would set foot in it. Firstly, to do business with your father. Or secondly, to get yelled at. Which, unfortunately, Dick and Jason had to do many, many times.

For you, however, it was a first. Your hands were sweating, and your left leg was jumping as if you were preparing to break a world record while sitting across from your father, waiting.

Your father hasn't looked at you once. Yet your heart is beating ten times faster than it should be. Even a strange pressure affected your ears, making them unable to hear. The only thing that pops into every corner of your brain is: "What if he's gonna hate me?"

“So!“

The sudden, booming voice broke the self-imposed silence in your head. His gaze had lifted from the papers he had been working on, his mouth moving, but you couldn't hear anything else, terrified out of your mind.

"Son?" His voice sounded worried, which somehow had a calming effect on you.

"Y-Yes?" Your voice cracked with nervousness.

"Why did you have to talk to me?"

He didn't mention his busy schedule as he does with your brothers - to make them hurry - which made you smile inwardly as they always whine that you're the favorite, even if you don't see it that way.

"Uh-I-I..." When you tried to say it, you panicked again. Your eyes widened and even winced slightly as you imagined what might happen if you actually admitted what you were there for.

Your father rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Calm down. It can't be that bad."

"I fell in love," you suddenly blurted out. As soon as you understood what you were saying, you clasped your hands over your mouth and immediately looked away.

The older man looked at you confused and even tilted his head slightly. His two hands now lay relaxed on the table. He was worried because you've never been so nervous, especially in front of him.

"So? What's the problem? And why are you telling me this? It's not like I thought you'd never fall in love. Rest assured that I'll support you with whoever you want to be together because-"

"It's Conner. We've been doing so much together lately and-"

Without batting an eyelid, your father's calm, cheerful demeanor soured, "Absolutely not!"

Suddenly a silence fell over you both. Finally, you looked up again and stared at your father in shock. He gazed at you in disappointment, even slightly angry.

"But you just said you'd support-"

"Everyone except the Clark boy! He's bad news and would only break your heart!"

You were shocked. Conner was so sweet and caring. How could your dad even think he would do something like that?

“But Dad!“

"No buts, young man! I would care less if you wanted to be with one of your brothers!"

"First of all: Eww. Second, why? What has he ever done?“

Your father banged his hands on the table in anger. "I said no! Everyone except that boy!" He screamed. "I'll buy you the perfect boy if you want, but I won't let you date the Clark boy! Does he even know about your feelings?"

A bright red blush began to glow on your cheeks. Your father had brought up a subject that was uncomfortable for you. Even though Conner was touchy and slightly lewd, neither of you had said or done anything in particular.

Seeing the sudden sadness in your eyes, your father sighed heavily, got up from his office chair, walked around the desk, and sat on the edge right before you. He carefully lifted your head with one of his hands. "I mean it. You can be with whoever you want: I don't care if it's a boy, his age, or his ethnicity. Everyone except the Clark boy and, by extension, Clark himself."

"Why Dad? Dick and Jason never had restrictions like that!” you blurted out, getting angry yourself.

But your father just sighed. "Because they didn't want to get into the pants of people who weren't good enough for them."

"But Conner is a hard worker. Yes, he still has a lot to learn, but-"

"Little sprout!" he said sternly, silencing you immediately. "I'm just warning you this once. Don't even try to get together with Conner, do you understand?"

Defeated, you suddenly stood up. Forcing your father's hand off of you. "I understand," you mumble sadly.

"That's my good boy!" Your father said happily, pulling you into an unwanted hug. Out of nowhere, he put a kiss on your temple. "You will find someone far better, little sprout. Someone who truly deserves you!"

When he let go of you, your heart was pounding in your throat. It hurt like never before. Your father was always relatively distant. That he was like that made you wonder if it was still your father. What was refuted in the second moment, he sat behind his desk again. He ignores everything that happens around him, as he always does.

You left the room in silence, not wanting to disturb him again. With tears in his eyes, barely able to hold back the sobs, dangerously close to breaking free.

[Masterlist]

#bruce wayne #dc #male reader #fluff #father #son

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mrs-monaghan · 1 year ago

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To that one anon,

I absolutely agree that actively hating on JK is veryyy uncalled for when we can see Jikook doing great and we don't have all the bts information. Lately, though, I've also seen a lot of Jikook accts minimizing what happened to FACE and Jimin. Celebrating JK's achievements is one thing but I cannot stand to see jkks of all ppl downgrading what happened to Jimin and his records as they're broken by the extra push the company gives JK. Everyone is speculating and trying their best to understand things and for some, that's sidelining Jimin as an accessory to make it make sense. There needs to be fair discourse in all sides of this community without romanticizing the darker parts of it. It's not JK's fault and we don't know all, but we still need to be able to talk about it. Like the fact that some of LC's numbers disappeared right when Seven needed space on the Korean charts. The fact that the FACE wasn't restocked for months when seven was in ready supply almost every week. What happened to LC and the rise of Seven is related even on a minor scale. This is a fact. Some accts were so focused on debunking videos, and celebrating JK that the topic of where Jimin's award nominations and streams are going became taboo because apparently "Jimin is happy as a cheerleader" ...what?!

Actively hating is way too far I agree but all I'm saying is we should still be able to talk about the inequality regarding them as individuals and how that relates to Jikook as a whole. Believing in Jikook and discussing these things should not be mutually exclusive. Everyone has their own opinions. Again not supporting the hate, but we should be allowed to share thoughts shouldn't we, regardless if we won't all agree?

No, I dont disagree. But personally talking about it just seems to get people riled up and that's how Jikookers end up resenting JK. I would rather copy paste a PJM on twitter when they are tagging BH and Geffen and anyone else fucking over Jimin.

I haven't 4go10 everything our man has been through. This man has millions of fans and they only released 13k LC cds. Meanwhile other members got up to 50k. His shit not getting restocked even still?? You cannot tell me this is something Jimin would be okay with. His fans wanting to buy his music and not being able to? No way he's just okay with this.

But I also fail to see how he's not aware of it?? He has to be aware of what happened to him.

(New video here for those who are yet to watch it. As always they do Jimin Jimin great justice)

The 🛴 thing is confusing seeing as he's credited on FACE but whatever.

Unfortunately we will never know how he feels or whats going on unless he or one of the members outright tell us about it. The unfairness is so bad if I look at it too much it makes me tear up. I haven't 4go10 he is still the only member who didn't get a cake. I know it's just a cake but damn this always rubs me the wrong way. @magicshop-pjm1 gets it 🤭🤭🤭

All I know anon, which makes me less sad, is the fact that Jimin renewed with Hybe. That has to mean something. And so I will just be here and support him the best way I can. I am choosing to trust his decision here because we are clearly missing something.

I don't post these asks because tbh they are a downer and they make everyone upset. I don't like to be upset. Until we know the truth I would rather avoid the topic all together. But that's just me 😔😔 It doesn't do me any favours.

But yes, Jikookers should be able to discuss whats been going on without being called JK antis. Provided they're not acting like JK antis.

#justice for jimin #bts ask #ask shaz #jimin #park jimin #bts #Jikookers #jimin face

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marythequeen · 6 months ago

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I am so happy, that there is another blog that defends Mary I, SHe is honestly the most vilified Queen in English history. She was painted as an evil catholic fanatic ruler even though she executed fewer people than her father and sister. She loved her country. She dedicated herself to fixing the things she thought were destroying her country. She faced Scrutiny and persecution because of her faith. What is your reaction when people compare Mary I to her Father King Henry VIII? What does she feel about her father? does she adore him or despise him?

i agree with you wholeheartedly!! and it makes me so happy that more and more people start to learn the truth about queen mary.

now here's my thoughts on your questions. it may disappoint you and others but i always speak my mind. mary had, indeed, inherited some of henry's personality traits (it's a whole another topic but if you want me to elaborate it, i can do it sometime) it's her father after all, we all, unfortunately, take from our parents. however, the people that compare mary to henry, do it in a wrong way or they have simply vicious intentions (i'm looking at the protestant missionaries)

they mostly compare their ruling styles and again, they have some similarities even there BUT mary had never ever had her own people applied certain torture methods, unlike what henry viii (and the other tudor monarchs) had constantly. so when they claim that mary followed her father's way of ruling, i simply want to gag my own eyes and forget i read. if we really want to compare henry viii to someone in his family, it would be his second daughter, elizabeth tudor (again, another topic but i'm open to discuss it)

and your other questions, well, we'll never know exactly how mary felt about her father but we can have strong conjectures. in my opinion, it is clear that mary knew exactly what kind of a man her father was and what he was capable of. she faced his cruelties at a young age and suffered greatly because of him and his actions. and mary wasn't a naive woman. she knew it was all his choice, though he was sometimes influenced by others.

do i think she loved him? yes, i do. do i think she despised him? yes, absolutely! these can happen at the same time. you can love someone and still be aware of their vile personality traits.

considering the reports and mary's own words, i think mary hated him as much as she loved him. she respected him but didn't approve his actions. she took care of him when he was sick. we don't know what was her reaction to henry's death, it wasn't recorded, but we know that she took offense when katherine parr got married so soon as we can read her letter to thomas seymour.

and most importantly, she grieved him and i don't think she did it just because she was expected to do this. it was because, no matter what kind of a shit father he was, he was still her father who once called her 'the pearl of his kingdom'

father-daughter relationships are complex, speaking with experience. at the end blood runs thicker than water.

#mary i of england #mary tudor #house of tudor #henry viii #father daughter relationships are reaaaaally complex #answered

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thedo0zyslider · 1 year ago

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Show Your Fangs - 2k Words

Fwhip just so happens to be a vampire, a vampire with quite the big problem, even if he doesn't think it's that big of a deal in the end. Fortunately, or unfortunately, help comes from a rather unlikely (and perhaps a slightly unwanted but also not really unwanted) place...

A03 Link

Fwhip starts a day like any good day should start, teasing and terrorizing his (least) favorite fish man.

He has shown up to place TNT at Jimmy’s base many of times, so much so that it’s practically a weekly occurrence at this point. He shows up, he places the explosives, teases the cod about exploding them and anything else that comes to mind, and weasels his way away before he does any serious, war escalating damage.

It’s fun, for him anyways, and when he arrives in the Codlands that day to do all of the very things listed above, it is supposed to go exactly as expected.

That is until he collapses, right in the middle of teasing jimmy. The Count doesn’t pass out, not really, just sort of falls to the ground like his limbs had given up on him randomly as the world turns black for the smallest of seconds. Which they had done, but at least it's not random to him, at least he can guess at the reason why. It is probably entirely random to Jimmy though.

The cod, effortlessly and frustratingly kind, lets out a sound of alarm, and rushes to help the Count back to his feet. Which is how he ends up leaning against Jimmy, which Fwhip hates, for the record, and being led back into his tiny shack of a house. Something so small it barely qualifies for a house, but looks much bigger on the inside. Like way too big.

He is set down on Jimmy’s couch, and hates the way his body sags in relief as he is. Jimmy, who has suddenly become a vigilant mother hen, notices, and a trace of what is absolutely genuine concern flashes in his gaze.

“You okay dude?” Jimmy asks, raising a curious eyebrow at him.

“Yeah I just….have like a deficiency or something.” Fwhip lies, tries to pass it off best he can, and knows whatever he says isn’t going to work.

“Really?” The blonde says, pretty, cow like brown eyes now narrowed. “A deficiency or something? A deficiency in what? ’ It is that that Fwhip cannot come up with a good excuse for, and Jimmy starts demanding to know why the nuisance in front of him almost passed out in the middle of his empire.

Fwhip sighs, and starts this discussion the best he can. “Ya know how I;m kinda a vampire right?” He asks, now being the one to raise a brow at the Codfather.

“Yes..” Jimmy’s reply is uncertain, and he shuffles his weight a bit, like he’d almost forgotten the fact. Though Fwhip could hardly blame him, he himself didn’t even like bringing it up much. Or thinking about it for that matter.

“Well I usually get the blood I need from Sausage’s sheep, since he always has dozens of ‘em. But i er, haven;t had a chance to do that recently…” Fwhip explains, sounding a bit sheepish. Mostly because it was stupid and something he could’ve, and should’ve, taken care of days ago. But even the Grimlands glorious Count has his stupid moments.

“You forgot and now you’re starving, is that what you’re telling me?” Jimmy deadpans, the most unimpressed look the Count has ever seen on anyone plastered across his face.

The Count goes to resume speaking, already trying to worm his way out of this weird little predicament his stupid need to feed had landed him in. Unfortunately, Jimmy does not allow that to get very far. “Yeah, yeah basically.” “I’ll just, go home now, eat when I get there-”

“You could feed off me.”

“ What. ” Fwhip blinks a few times, maybe even pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, and that the idiot in front of him actually just said that.

“I said you could feed off me.” Jimmy repeats, tone flat and serious. Fwhip can barely believe his ears a second time.

“No I can’t, I can’t do that! ” The Count yelps out a protest. It wounds fun, enjoyable even to drink a human’s (well, a humanoid’s ,) blood. It also makes part of him squirm with some deep seeded discomfort he does not want to deal with at the moment.

“Why?” Jimmy asks, and the question is powerful. It is also a question Fwhip does not have an answer to, so he says nothing. And his responding silence is absolutely damning.

“Well, there you go,” Jimmy begins. Unbeknownst to him, blue eyes are already being flicked dangerously downwards towards his very vulnerable throat. “You can just feed on me and get it over with-!”

His sentence is cut off by a loud yelp and Fwhip moving at what seems to be lightning speed. Before either of them even knows what happened he’s stood from the couch, and has crossed the room in a heartbeat. The Count presses Jimmy to the wall, the vampire part of his brain having taken over for a moment. Jimmy’s breath seems to hitch, and Fwhip doesn;t catch it, but a pinkish hue starts to lightly dust his cheeks.

“Are you sure about this?” Fwhip asks, voice low. Jimmy stares back into his eyes, seemingly a little transfixed by the whole ordeal. Warm hands are gripping the cod’s waist, keeping him steadily against the wall. Both of them are breathing quite heavily, breaths mingling together at the proximity. Fwhip’s eyes cannot decide if they want to look at Jimmy’s eyes, his lips, or his very exposed and tempting neck.

"Yeah, yeah I'm sure." The blonde breaths quietly. And Fwhip doesn't waste a second moving his downwards. He lines his teeth up best he can, brushing them across soft skin. Jimmy squirms under him until he bites down, and Fwhip draws back as soon as he does, feeling the other tense before he can even let out any kind of pained noise.

"You didn't take any." Jimmy mumbles quite obviously, Fwhip moving so they can make eye contact again. If their faces had gotten a few inches closer, well that wasn't for anyone but them to know now was it.

"Sorry, I just....don't really wanna hurt you." He mutters, watching as the blonde slowly moves his head back to wher it used to be.

"Don't worry about it," The cod mutters, voice incredibly soft for a fleeting moment. Fwhip, who has been left with his face in front of Jimmy’s throat, but not doing much other than look at it, feel his own breath hitch. There's something fluttering in his stomach, something to investigate later.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Jimmy muttered, eyes flicking down ever so slightly. Even though the cod probably couldn’t tell, Fwip nodded anyway. Slowly and still very hesitantly, he angled his head once more, a bit down as gently as he could. Despite that, Jimmy still lets out a short hiss of pain, and his hands scramble to find purchase on something. The blonde managed to grab onto Fwhip’s shoulder, and dug in maybe a little too hard.

The Count doesn’t notice it much though, already beginning to lap up the blood for the rather shallow incision he’d made. He only backs off when Jimmy makes the smallest sound of pain, doing so instantly.

He pulls back, breath ghosting over the cod’s neck. That didn’t fill him up at all, the rather pitiful amount of blood having hardly made a dent in his hunger. Somehow, the blonde seemed to sense this, maybe by the very obvious way Fwhip still seemed to be laser focused on his neck and the small amounts of drying blood left on it.

“Wasn’t enough, was it?” Jimmy asks him through small pants.

Fwhip just shakes his head in response. “No..”

“Then bite me again.” The cod says. Fwhip, a little less hesitant, nods again. He reaches his head down once more, and sinks his teeth into Jimmy’s ever so delicate skin for technically the third time that night.

The blonde only lets out a small sound of pain that time, and Fwhip hopes he’s getting slightly used to the whole process; in case they ever need to do this again. Though the Count will avoid getting his hopes up for that. He decides to drink his fill this time, wanting to get the whole thing over with for good, which turns out to be a very good decision. Mostly because he gets properly fed, and the blonde below him starts letting out sounds that seem to be the very opposite of pain.

Jimmy lets out a pleased whimper, craning his neck back as Fwhip sucks more and more blood from it. The cod shivers under him everytime the vampire’s tongue runs along his skin, and once Fwhip has had his fill, and maybe slightly before it, he lets himself become carried away, and presses open mouthed kisses to Jimmy’s skin. He learns quickly, after some accidental trial and error, to avoid the codfolk’s gills when taking blood, but to go straight for them once the activity diverts into something else; the noises Jimmy makes when he does so are quite lovely on the ears.

The kisses trail upwards, slowly but surely, until they are being peppering along the Codfather’s jawline. He even goes to lift Jimmy off the ground, the cod’s legs wrapping around his hips for support. One hand tangled in Fwhip’s hair, eliciting a noise from the Count himself, and the other grabbed the back of his head and held it tightly. He moves the kiss further up still, until he is pressing them teasingly to the side of Jimmy’s mouth, and the cod gets impatient and connects their lips himself.

Fwhip hums into it, wasting no time slipping his tongue into the blonde’s mouth. It’s a messy kiss, a very intense one too, not that he minds in the slightest bit. Jimmy bites his lip at one point, the Count bites back and goes on to explore Jimmy’s mouth so more, memorizing the feel of it best he can, for he doubts he’s getting this chance ever again.

They pull away for a quick second, maybe even less than that, panting heavily, before Jimmy’s drawing Fwhip back in to kiss him stupid once more. He groans into this time, pushing the Codfather up against the wall until he physically can’t anymore. Jimmy bites at his lip again, and Fwhip feels himself melt. It’s nice to be bit for once he decides, as the one who’s usually doing all the biting.

The two of them move away one last time, both panting heavier than they had been before. Fwhip moves away, putting Jimmy back on the ground. The cod stumbles as soon as he’s on his feet again, and before long he’s leaning against Fwhip to stay upright. He’d taken too much blood, it seems, which wasn’t good per say.

He hurries over to the couch best he can, the blonde carefully clutched in his arms. He sets Jimmy down, laying his head against the back of the couch, before running to grab some stuff from the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what snacks Jimmy had in his kitchen, but he managed to grab something, along with preparing a glass of water. The Count thinks that’s what helps with blood loss, but he’s not too sure. Still, it’ll probably do more good than harm regardless.

“Here,” He says softly, having returned to the couch. “Take this.” He hands Jimmy the food he’d grabbed, a cookie, apparently, and placed the glass of water on the table. The Codfather did take what he was offered, though it took a second for him to do so.

A few minutes of silence stretched out between them, Fwhip awkwardly standing in his enemies living room all the while. Jimmy sat on the couch, quietly eating and taking a few sips of water in between. He watches as the blonde blinks a few times, ost likely clearing the spots from his vision.

“Thanks.” Jimmy mumbles, doing so around the last mouthful of cookie.

“No problem,” Fwhip responds, hands shoved in his pockets as casually as he can manage to make it appear. “Did that help any?”

“A bit, I probably need to lie down though.” The cod cracks a small smile, and Fwhip cannot tell if it forced or if it is genuine.

“Well, I’ll let you do that then.” He says it with a shrug, like each of them hadn’t just enthusiastically sucked face with a man they hated for a good five minutes, and starts heading towards the door. The thing that stops him, calls him back, the only thing that could, is Jimmy gently calling out his name; like it wasn’t meant to be heard in the first place.

“If you ever need this again, just come to me okay? “M happy to help.” Jimmy says, and maybe his tone is a little hopeful. Maybe he liked the blood sucking that much, which was entirely possible, for Fwhip didn’t know what this guy was into. The more likely option was probably that he wanted another excuse to make out again, and the Count couldn’t even fault him for that.

It was taking a lot of willpower to not kiss Jimmy goodbye, and the knowledge that the cod would welcome it was not helping his impulse control one single bit. It was doing the complete opposite of that, actually.

But Fwhip does not walk over and kiss Jimmy, no, all he does is look at him and gives the best smile he can muster. “Yeah,” He shrugs again, turning back towards the door ever so slightly. “I’ll let you know if I, ah…need this again.” As he says this Fwhip knows how easy it is for vampire to run back towards an easy source of human blood, and decides he’s not going to be like that. He’s not going to be easy, and certainly not for the dumb codboy of all people, even if he really, really wants to and it would solve like, half his personal problems to do so.

“Bye.” Jimmy calls out as Fwhip places his hand on the door knob.

The Count can’t bring himself to respond, not even with a simple goodbye, so he just wipes any stray blood from his lips, and opens the door to leave. He thinks he feels the sad gaze of Jimmy on his back as he leaves, door closing behind him, but even that can’t bring him back thai time. Some people would say he’s running away, and if Fwhip knows whatever that weird feeling he’s running from is, he's not going to acknowledge.

He’s just going to go home to forever wallow over blood and the kisses he will never allow himself to have again.

#ron.fic #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #empiresblr #empireshipping #count fwhip #fwhip #the codfather #empires jimmy #empires fwhip #woe. vampire fwhip be upon ye #me when i finish this at 5 am lololll

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fueledpurelybyspite · 1 year ago

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Ops, wrong painting

summary

'And so help me god, Thorpe, if something like this happens again-'

'It won't' He and his father answer at the same time.

The ancient vampire fixes both of them with a long stare. Shaking his head, he quietly adds one last jab

'And let's hope the poor girl never finds out about this'

At last, something all three of them can agree with.

Or, Xavier Thorpe is asked to do a recreation of a famous painting with a personal twist for his art class, but the canvases get mixed up.

Xavier Thorpe is a dead man.

Done, finished, utterly fucked would also be appropriate terms to use in this scenario. But yes, dead sums it up pretty well too.

He sits in the principal's office, left leg bouncing restlessly on the immaculate hardwood floor and eyes darting around uncomfortably.

His father is here, for god's sake. Sitting by his side with a burning glare pointed at his profile. He's just come back from a tour, the famous Illusionist Vincent Thorpe. This was supposed to be one of the rare weeks off he dares to take, which are usually spent in their house in New York, in the charming company of whatever emerging starlet he has managed to promise fame and short-lived luxury to.

Xavier can actually feel the sweat beading on his forehead and at the back of his neck. He keeps his flushed face downturned, his head hung low in his palm. blond hair is pulled tight between his fingers as his elbow lays against the armrest.

He knows he fucked up, big time. This is the first time in his school career he has reason to fear he might actually get expelled.

The new principal, a strict and burly vampire who looks like he's just emerged from 1920' London's downtown scene, was very much not impressed when his father offered to pay the school a check without even letting him finish explaining what his son had done to land him in so much trouble.

He now sits behind the imposing hardwood desk, directing an impressively hash glare on them for someone who's wearing such dark sunglasses.

'Mr. Thorpe' His rich, rough voice fills the room as he scrutinizes his father, and Xavier feels like everything is just too much. He can't stand being the center of attention and he's suddenly hyperaware of the way his clothes rest on his skin, fabric rustling and shifting and making him go insane. He's hot and cold all over, he hadn't felt this scared and embarrassed since he was scolded as a child for finding the gardener's collection of playboys.

'What your son here has committed is an extremely serious infraction. If his record so far wasn't as clean as it is, it would have warranted an immediate expulsion.'

Xavier feels like he should at least try to explain himself, but he knows he sounds exasperated. 'It was an accident'

'An accident?'

The headmaster's voice is booming and sharp-edged. The birds in the cages hanging from the windows flap their wings around restlessly. Xavier feels restless, too.

'One of my colleagues, Mr. Crellin, your art teacher, has come to me yesterday morning to tell me you have made a portrait of one of your classmates, an underaged girl, against her consent or knowledge, depicting her in a state of undress with a disturbing amount of details'

Xavier actually wants to die. Take a shovel, dig a hole, crawl in it, and just die.

His father is absolutely seething. He guesses this would be pretty bad press if the news were leaked.

He can already see the headline 'Famous illusionist's deranged son gets expelled from prestigious academy for depravity'

God, he hates to think about the huge check his art teacher has surely already taken to keep this all quiet.

He's able to find his voice, eventually, but he hates how low and wavering it sounds. 'That was not the painting I intended to hand in for the project'

If looks could kill, Xavier would already be laying in the aforementioned hole. Unfortunately, the headmaster's glare only manages to make him want to puke on his shoes. Which is still fairly impressive, he supposes.

'The point is that you have completely disregarded another student's privacy and integrity in favor of your own…enjoyment' His words are disgusted and enraged and Xavier hates every second of it because it's not like that at all.

Well, maybe a little, but still.

'And don't think I don't know what you can do with your powers, boy, if I come to know you're using your gifts to create some kind of..of amateur pornography-'

'Jesus fucking Christ'

He's never agreed with his father more.

'Look' He feels obliged to speak before the situation gets even, somehow, worse. 'I know I screwed up. Bad. But I swear I hadn't meant for anyone to see it, and I didn't do anything with it. The canvases got mixed up and I made a mess. Please, I know this looks awful, but I swear I'm not dangerous or scheming or anything. I'm just…I'm just-'

A fucking moron with a crush

He sighs, defeated.

The gods take pity on him, and so must do his principal who decides, for some unfathomable reason, to believe him. 'All of your privileges will be revoked until further notice, no more passes into town on the weekends and you will not be going to the carnival during the Harvest festival.' a deep breath, then ' You're going to help the janitors to restock the art supplies every week for the following five weeks. You'll be allowed to keep that shed you use in the woods, but a staff member will come unannounced once a month to keep an eye on what you have in there'

Ouch. It could have been a lot worse, sure, but still harsh.

'And so help me God, Thorpe, if something like this happens again-'

'It won't' He and his father answered at the same time.

The ancient vampire fixes both of them with a long stare. Shaking his head, he quietly adds one last jab.

'And let's hope the poor girl never finds out about this'

At last, something all three of them can agree with.

It all started on a shitty Monday morning, as most shitty things do.

Xavier lay half-splayed out in his seat, stretching in the sunlight filtering through the classroom's window like a stray cat, sleepy and dissatisfied in the pale morning light.

The lessons he had scheduled on the first day of the week were always awfully boring, but he didn't mind. In fact, he endured them with heroic courage, for no other reason than that the last one of them was art class with Mr. Crellin.

The man was a genius when it came to his craft. Even though he didn't dabble in the practical aspect of the arts, he collected rare renditions of barely known artists from all across the world and he knew every single thing about them.

His ability to analyze the most mundane detail in a painting and tell the whole history behind it, to take apart and examine the structure of the picture without depriving it of its poetry had been what had motivated Xavier to actually start studying art instead of just making it.

Drawing and painting had always been his coping mechanisms, a creative outlet to keep him from going mad. Madder, that is.

But he'd never been particularly proud of it or thought it very useful.

Mr. Crellin had changed that.

So imagine his enthusiasm when, a few minutes before dismissing class, the teacher made the announcement.

'Very well, guys. For your next assignment, I'd like each of you to find a famous painting of your choosing and try to re-draw it in your own personal perspective. Doesn't matter if you take a detail of it and transfer it in a different context or if you decide to redo the whole thing. As long as it tells me something about you'

While his classmates huffed and groaned, Xavier tried to keep his smile subtle, the gears in his head already moving.

'And remember ladies and gentlemen, it must be done by this weekend'

'Didn't think the day would come where I'd see you read a book without pictures'

Wednesday's words came so close to his ears that he actively had to suppress a shiver 'Oh, wait. There are pictures'

He glared at her where she stood, peeking behind his shoulder.

'This is an art history book, Addams. And they're not pictures, they're illustrations'

They were the only ones at their usual table in the quad during lunch break. The sirens had to move up choir rehearsal and Enid and Ajax were probably busy sucking face somewhere.

'Whatever helps you sleep at night' She eyed curiously his eyebags as she sat in front of him, a hint of a smile in the corners of her berry-stained lips. 'Although it's clearly not helping much.'

'Very funny' he shot back at her. He tried focusing back on his textbook, but his gaze shot up again when he noticed the odd way she had styled her custom uniform that day.

Her tie was missing entirely and the first two buttons of her shirt were undone. It wasn't promiscuous, per se, but it was still a noticeable difference from her usually pristine appearance. A pale collarbone peeked through the unfastened hem, looking as dainty and as fragile as a bird's. There, barely visible, bloomed an angry pink rash, three darker streaks in the middle as if she'd just been scratching at it.

When he realized he hadn't looked at her face for far more time than was polite, which is any amount of time, he dared to lift his gaze only to find her staring right back at him, one eyebrow raised impossibly high.

Xavier cleared his throat, fairly surprised but somehow alarmed by the lack of threats and knives. 'What happened there?' He asked, vaguely pointing at her cleavage.

Wednesday sighed in a rare display of emotion, letting her annoyance show through. 'Enid accidentally sprayed some of her nasty cheap perfume over me. Contact with clothes was only irritating it more and right now I can't afford to steal any more bandages from the infirmary without raising suspitions'

He snorted, shaking his head with an amused grin.

'Who's the elitist snob now?'

'Do shut up, Thorpe'

'As you wish, of course'

Putting her elbows on the table, Wednesday leaned in towards him to take a better look at the page he'd been studying before her arrival.

'What are you working on, anyway, so absorbed in your book with pictures'

'Illustrations'

'Whatever'

He sighed, secretly enjoying their banter. He had a feeling Wednesday did too.

'I have to work on this project for Mr.Crellin. So I'm just trying to find a painting that, you know' he trailed off, feeling clumsy in his own choice of words 'speaks to me'

Wednesday just looked back at him, seeming as unimpressed as she usually did. Then, as swiftly as she had arrived, she gathered her things to leave.

'Best of luck on your research, then'

A heavy sigh left his body as he stepped away from the canvas, cleaning his hands on his stained hoodie before rubbing them on his eyes, tired and heavy with sleep.

He dared to glance at what he'd been working on for the past four hours. The picture he'd managed to bring together was a rendition of The Starry Night, but instead of a peaceful city in the south of France, he'd painted the iconic sky on top of the streets of New York.

He imagined it wasn't fair to compare his father's penthouse to the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum, but whatever. He supposed Van Gogh wouldn't have been too offended, fellow tortured artist and all. Besides, Xavier felt like he'd gone just as mad, left alone in that big space year after year.

The proportions were perfect, the moonlight on the skyscrapers was flawless, and he'd recreated the masterpiece's original sky in excruciating detail. It was original and yet respectful, it was objectively beautiful.

It was soulless.

Xavier banged his head hard on his worktable. Everything about his picture felt so…impersonal. He'd been so excited for this project, it was a chance to really show what he felt, to create something meaningful and personal and heartwrenching.

something that was real.

Everything had been a mess since the Hyde. Xavier felt as if he'd lost all passion for drawing. He still loved it, of course, and still needed it, but he couldn't go back to the easy way it was before. He didn't need to plan his paintings before, he used to put the pencil on paper without knowing what would come out of it. It'd been second nature, like he'd been born with a pencil in his right hand. But then the whole shitshow that was the previous semester happened and all he could manage to draw was the Hyde. And now he had to plan things out, as if he'd completely lost his instinct.

All he drew when he really let his mind wander was Wednesday.

He knew it was creepy. And unhealthy. He shouldn't just replace one obsession with another. but he just couldn't stop. during the past few months, he'd collected an alarmingly big collection of studies of her, his two most recent sketchbooks were filled exclusively with it. Just pages and pages of the curve of her hands, the bend of her fingers against the bow of her cello, the arch of her neck, the twist and knots in her spine, the bruises on her knees, the pout on her lips, her fathomless eyes.

His hands itched as his mind brought forth the image of her exposed throat from earlier that day, the pale flash stretched over her sharp collarbones, the angry rash barely visible under the open collar of her shirt.

He wasn't sure what he'd wanted more, to touch it or to draw it.

Fuck it.

In a move filled with frustration and confusion, Xavier put his New York starry night on the ground next to the door and took out a fresh canvas.

He looked at the cheap watch on his wrist that he wore specifically while painting, a bright green 1 a.m. glared back at him.

He put the blank canvas on the easel, dipped his brush in the deepest black he had, and just let his mind wander free.

Obviously he'd fallen asleep barely an hour before the start of classes, obviously he'd rushed and barely made it in time for Mr. Crellin's lesson, and obviously he'd taken the wrong canvas.

Good God, what a mess.

Xavier's currently contemplating what excuse he can pull out of his ass to explain to Ajax and their friends why he can no longer go with them to try the new sushi restaurant this weekend, or any other weekend, or any other day in the foreseeable future.

He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. Hell, at least his father showed up.

He's at least got a chance to a fair grade. He makes his way to his shed to retrieve the painting he had actually intended to bring to class, the one with the starry night overlooking New York City.

Mr.Crellin has graciously agreed to leave this whole thing behind them and take a look at his real project. He supposes he should be grateful.

He isn't. Mr. Crellin is a fucking snitch.

Xavier moves on autopilot through woods he knows like the back of his hand. He steps into the clearing, takes the key to the shed out of his pocket, and swings the door open all while completely lost in thought.

'I guessed you were bound to come by, sooner or later'

He comes back to reality abruptly.

His eyes go round and impossibly big as he takes in the image of Wednesday, her back to the door and voice light and distracted as she studies intently the portrait in front of her.

The portrait of her.

Xavier can feel the sweat turn ice cold on his body, the hair raising on the back of his neck as his heart starts beating so fast it feels as if it wants to crawl out of his chest, break the bones, cut through his ribcage, destroy itself and him with it.

He'd been drunk off of frustration and lust, the night he'd painted her. There wasn't space for poetry and poise, and it shows. He can only look on horrified as the real Wednesday Addams stares at the Wednesday Addams he made, eyes half close and lids heavy with promise, the sharp bones in her face, cheeks sunken in and tiny chin jutted out towards the sky, her hair unbound behind dainty shoulders, her delicate bare breasts, the deep arch in her spine as she poses as Munch's Madonna.

He wanders, wildly, how she came to find this out. If she had a vision or heard someone in the staff talk. He wonders how she managed to steal it from the headmaster's office and bring it here, if she's more offended by the nudity or the utter surrender in the stance he dared to imagine her in.

Most of all, he wonders what kind of painful, horrifying death she's planning to inflict on him.

But his nightmarish girl manages to surprise him once again.

With a chilling calm in her voice, she lifts a single graceful finger towards the canvas to point at the space right next to a small, pink nipple.

'I have a freckle right here, actually'.

#wednesday x xavier #xavier thorpe #addams family #wavier #wenthorpe #wenvier #wednesday #enid sinclair #ajax petropolus #wednesday 2022

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reddbuster · 29 days ago

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I’m so so sorry in advance op I’d keep this to the tags but I have too much to say n it’s way easier to type in the body of the post.

I made a whole post about this recently but Godot fucking rules and does not deserve a modicum of the hate he gets from the fandom. There are a zillion instances of casual early 2000s-typical misogyny in the writing of the original trilogy but for some reason we only talk about it in reference to the Latino man! I wonder why that could be. truly a mystery.

Maya Fey is a well written character. Like I’m sorry that most of y’all don’t like to give critical thought to the female characters but that’s on you. She is the heart of the original trilogy. It’s her story just as much if not more than it’s Phoenix or edgeworth’s story. I could write an entire essay on this one

Justice for All is a fantastic game and easily one of the best in the series. The first case is kind of mid I’ll admit (though it gets points for introducing maggey) but i think every other case is AT LEAST solid (yes, even turnabout big top. I have my reasons. Put down your pitchforks I’ll get to that in a moment). Reunion and turnabout is, in my opinion, easily one of the best non-finale cases in all of ace attorney. Not only is it an extremely compelling mystery but It also introduces Kurain village as a setting and sets up the Morgan plotline that triggers the events of Bridge to the turnabout. And ofc it introduces Pearl and Franziska, both characters i adore with my whole heart. And then there’s Farewell my turnabout. While i think bridge might be my personal favorite case in the series farewell is a very, very close second, and i think that objectively from a writing perspective it might be the best. I’m not going to go in detail as to why i love it because I would never stop talking and also I’m writing a post about it right now but godddd. What a fucking case.

Speaking of Justice for all! This might be the hottest take on this list lol but i like turnabout big top. I don’t think it’s a masterpiece by any means but I’m constantly frustrated by the fandom’s tendency to dismiss it as skippable because…..it really really isn’t. Now first and foremost i want it on the record that I do think the love triangle was really really weird and uncomfortable and entirely unnecessary (seriously, the anime straight up took out the entire love triangle plotline and it lost absolutely nothing. why was it even there.) But there’s so much more to the case that nobody is willing to spare a thought towards because it’s the annoying uncomfortable clown case and i think that’s really unfortunate. First off that one confrontation with franziska in the courtyard is SUCH a good scene and one that is essential to the emotional buildup of the game. It’s a huge reveal on the part of both Phoenix and Franziska and it’s so so important that it happens when it does, not long before edgeworth’s grand return. But also i really like the way it continues the theme in jfa of coping with the loss of losing your sibling. You see it in reunion with the miney sisters, in big top with Acro and bat, arguably in farewell with Adrian and Celeste (i get why people see them as lesbians and more power to them but personally i like the anime’s decision to make them sisters because it feels more thematically appropriate to jfa to me) and then of course, the thread that binds it all together, you see it throughout the game with miles and Franziska. It’s sooo good and big top is a crucial piece of it to me. Also i really love Maya in this case she’s so fucking funny.

Speaking of miles and Franziska i think that making manfred Von karma an abusive parent kind of makes that whole family dynamic less interesting. Of course he’s a terrible person with terrible ideals and values that he passed down to franziska and edgeworth and those ideals ended up harming them in the long run but there’s nothing in the text that suggests that he literally abused them verbally or physically (except for that one mistranslated line in turnabout reminiscence. No, killing a child’s father is not child abuse. That’s murder, an entirely different crime. No, framing an adult man for a murder you committed is not child abuse either even if you used to be his legal guardian. That is a frameup, and it is likewise an entirely separate crime from child abuse.) and while it’s a valid interpretation of his character if it appeals to you i personally think it makes everything less interesting. I think it’s a lot more fun for franziska & miles to be, to some degree, active players in their own suffering, even if isn’t really their fault. And i think the prospect of Franziska genuinely loving and admiring her father, putting him on a pedestal as this untouchable pillar of good, only to discover that he was the monster who ruined edgeworth’s life all along is a lot more compelling than aw shucks my horribly abusive dad killed someone! What a bummer.

I have plenty more unpopular ace attorney takes lol but this is already wayyyy too long so I’m gonna leave it at that for now. So sorry for the entire essay on your post op. Btw agree 100% with my lovely mutuals talking about the colourism and fatphobia in the series you are all so smart and your minds are beautiful always.

reblog with ur own unpopular opinions or hot takes or whatever you would like to express about aa and its fandom!!

to start off i dont really understand their design philosophy and methods but as a black fan it's a bit disappointing seeing barely any characters of my favorite series have melanin 💔💔 the only characters i know off the top of my head are olivia aldente and godot who are both of latino descent iirc and i love their designs and characters but theyre also villains and dont return often. just wish the series had more diversity in their characters

#aa #cas.txt

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thenovelartist · 3 years ago

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And there was only One Bed - Tears of Themis Headcanons

Premise: There’s only one room left in the hotel, meaning the guys have to be roomies with MC for a night.

Luke

Err… his cheeks are red now.

He’s having to check with MC if she’s okay with it. Not that they had much of a choice.

They take the room, only to discover one bed.

And forget his crush on her; that’s the least of his problems.

He knows she shifts in her sleep.

“You take half and I take half?” MC offers. “Like when we were kids?”

He sighs, lamenting his fate. “I’m so gonna end up on the floor.”

“Sorry.”

When it comes to who showers first: rock, paper, scissors.

He’s the least phased of all the guys by the whole “share one bathroom” situation. They grew up together. They sometimes used to have quick conversations through the bathroom door, normally just a question or two about what they wanted for dinner or if their phone went off and it was their parents.

Which happened this time. “There was a vending machine down stairs. You want anything? And if you mention that diet, I’m getting you two of your favorite candy bars.”

“Just one and only one.”

“You got it.”

(@gavin-plz-call-me once called them the “King and Queen of No Boundaries” and I will never forget it.)

Eventually, Luke makes sure MC’s settled in for bed while he’s planning to stay up a little and figure out tomorrow’s game plan.

Until she literally drags him to bed.

He can’t protest against her.

Contrary to what he thought, he did not end up on the floor.

But it was kinda hard to sleep when the girl of his dreams decided his chest was her new snuggle pillow halfway through the night.

He’ll cave and roll with it. Be selfish just for tonight and hold her there.

Come morning, she apologizes for disrupting him, he dismisses it. And both their cheeks are red.

But it doesn’t phase them. Give it half an hour, they’re back to normal.

(Bonus: “So, kid. Let me get this straight,” Aaron Yishmir started. “You spent the night with her, and you’re still not gonna tell her anything?”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“You’re hopeless.)

Vyn

Well… this is a predicament.

However, they come to some awkward agreement that if it’s the only place to sleep for the night, they’ll take it and figure it out as they go.

However, things only go from bad to worse when they learn there’s only one bed.

There were very few times since becoming an adult that Vyn ever found himself at a loss. And this was one of those times.

“Um… are you comfortable splitting?”

His glasses almost fell off his face at MCs suggestion.

Before he can even think about suggesting to take the chair, MC is putting up a blanket wall. “Like this?”

Er… aha…

Oh geez, this woman…

He caves to that deep, ugly part of him that’s begging “yes” and agrees.

Then comes the new revelation there’s only one bathroom, which rose the question of who was going to shower when.

He just lets her take the first shower while his mind is still storming.

During that time, he realizes this may be the only time he has the privacy to actually record his voice diary.

It’s a total disaster. He’s in mental turmoil and can barely think straight.

But MC is acting normal, meaning he’s got to try to act normal.

Normally, he takes his showers in the morning, but he takes it at night this time just so he can have another moment of privacy to get his thoughts in order.

This is just a practical arrangement. This is just a practical arrangement. This is just a practical arrangement…

Bedtime rolls around, and poor, unsuspecting Vyn believes they are each going to stay on their respective sides of the bed.

However, Author has a headcanon these two both sleep like dead logs.

Morning rolls around, and they’re still both asleep, only they’re totally entangled.

MC wakes up first, laying on top of Vyn.

And when she freaks, flailing and falling off the bed in the process, that’s when Vyn wakes, too.

It was… an interesting morning to say the least.

They come to the agreement to never speak on it again.

(Until a few years down the line after they’re together and can look back on that day with amusement.)

Artem

When the person at the front desk said there was only one room left, Artem about had a heart attack.

He cannot possibly share a room with MC. That’s super improper.

Will call around to any other hotel in the area, but no avail.

MC will literally have to drag this poor man up to the room.

“It will be fine, Artem.”

Except, it wasn’t. There was one bed.

Cue almost heart attack number 2.

He almost left to go sleep in the car. MC had to restrain him.

“We can share right? Like, if we—”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Not even if we put a blanket—”

“No. I’ll sleep in the chair.”

There was no convincing him to sleep anywhere else.

And MC tried.

Eventually, she had to surrender. “Fine. Then do you want the first shower?”

Oh… there was only one bathroom… that they’d be sharing…

Cue almost heart attack number 3.

Will legitimately leave the room while she’s showering. He just feels too awkward and like he’s invading her privacy.

Then bed time rolls around and he’s unable to sleep, so he works on his laptop for the time being.

Ends up pulling an all-nighter, which MC anticipated.

She set an alarm for early in the morning so she could then force him to bed for a few hours.

While he insisted he was fine, he was too tired to protest as she pushed him down into bed. “Sleep, will you. I know you didn’t sleep all night.”

Thought he’d have trouble, but he was so wound up all night over everything that had happened that he’s passed out in fifteen minutes.

And stayed out cold for a few hours.

When they left, MC made sure to thank him for being such a gentleman. She thought it was the least she could do for his troubles.

That, and she quite liked the way his ears and neck turned red.

(Bonus: He hopes Celestine never finds out what happened on that business trip.

But when she finds out curtesy of MC, she will never let him live it down.)

Marius

The moment he finds out there’s only one room, he actually gets super flustered.

And as he does, instantly goes in to deflective Playboy Flirt mode.

“Get your head out of the gutter, you little—”

MC shut that down, real quick.

Most he could do then is just say “It can’t be that bad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Well, apparently only be one bed.

Flustered Marius = Playboy Persona

“That’s it,” MC says. “You take the bed.”

“What? Don’t you wanna share?”

“No.”

“Ouch!”

But really, he wants to find some way to get her to take the bed because he really will feel awful otherwise.

Then comes the single bathroom realization.

“You wanna shower together?”

“Marius, I swear I will kick you out of this room and take the keycard from you.”

“Oh, my feisty Miss Attorney.”

“Miss Attorney will sue you for sexual harassment.”

“Understood.”

He gets to shower first, and then ends up giving her some excuse for leaving the room entirely.

He loves teasing her, but this might be the most he’s ever pushed his luck. And he actually doesn’t want her to hate him, so he’ll give her this space at least.

As for the bed situation…

MC tries to sleep on the couch, but he can’t stand it, so he decides to push his luck and simply carry her to bed.

“I won’t pull anything, I swear.”

“The only reason I’m agreeing is because I know I’ll sleep better here than the couch.”

“See?”

“Marius.”

“I’ll shut up.”

Regrets his decision halfway through the night when Mr. Light Sleeper realizes Ms. Dead Log moves in her sleep.

She was snuggled up against his back, and his heart was going doki doki too hard to even think about going back to sleep.

Eventually, he rolls over and snuggles her, not just because he wants to, but he hopes it will keep her still through the night.

Unfortunately, she was not happy in the morning.

“Can’t we talk about this?”

She kept her face turned away from him the rest of the day, but he knew it was red with blush. “Shut up.”

#tears of themis #luke pierce #vyn richter #artem wing #marius von hagen #headcanons #tears of themis headcanons

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Demigod MC Series: Hermes

Hey guys, still doing what I can to stay healthy (and entertained) in quarantine. Staying still, keeping calm, and trying not to exert myself too much because of the shortness of breath thing going on. My lungs just can't get enough air it seems… 😅 Anyway, I've gotten a lot of suggestions on this series and I'm excited to keep it going. Just going to be a tad slow until I'm feeling better. Thank you for the support, y'all!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes

Lucifer

Oh no… it’s everyone’s worst nightmare… Another Mammon, but competent. Devil help us all…

Had he known who their father was, he'd have never assigned Mammon to watch over them. Hell, he would have made sure those two never even met. They became a new handful for him to manage from the day they first arrived…

When even more things started going missing around the House than normal, he knew he had made a grave mistake… They were clever, quick, and skilled. About the best WORST combination for a burglar to be…

Worse still, they were fast on their feet. He would pretty much have no way to nab them on foot and always had to resort to his wings or magic to have any hope of catching up to them… At least Mammon usually gets himself cornered!

But, paradoxically, he also came to notice that the mortal had an odd honesty streak to them... Like, they’d steal but they’d always admit to it, unlike Mammon who would try to deflect till he was blue in the face.

Were they proud of their work, maybe? Or just didn’t see the point in trying to get away with it...?

There would be several occasions where they’d take something, sell it with Mammon, and then steal the thing back later just to put it back where it belonged, seemingly never with Mammon’s permission to do so either…

Is it better that they returned the stolen item or worse because their actions went from just robbery to a full-on scam? Either way, it gives him headaches trying to deal with it…

He pretty much gives up getting the mortal to stop after 6 months, they are legitimately that good, but makes them swear to always put back whatever they take at some point. It seems to work out and he lets more things slide, but please someone get them out of here soon…

Mammon

Soulmatesoulmatesoulmatesoulmate, or maybe more accurately “Partner-in-Crime” but that means pretty much the same thing to him anyway. 🤷‍♀️

He’s never met a person better at thievery than they were. The day they met, they managed to pick his pockets without breaking a sweat (or a finger) and that was it. He was in love.

They could teleport! Actually teleport!! Suddenly, NOTHING was off limits to him any more! Lucifer’s rare records? Easy. Levi’s secret safe? Cakewalk. The Castle vault?? Child’s play!! It was like they could steal anything they put their mind to!!

He didn't even have to worry about them when they made getaways because they were fast too, the two actually have parkour races through the streets for the hell of it!

On top of all that, they were wicked creative. He’d come up with a money-making scheme then they’d offer him all sorts of little tricks to help get away with it...

HE’D have never realized that they could turn themselves into rats in order to frighten and sneak past Barbatos, but they thought of it the instant they heard of his fear of things. They're a mad genius!!

The only real downside was they seemed to like stealing for the sport of it instead of for the money… so they always steal back whatever they took.

That kind of defeats the purpose of all that work in the first place, right? Ah well, at least that's more money for him.

These two pretty much became a walking menace to Devildom society- Sorry, not sorry.

Leviathan

Not another Mammon!!! WHY?! What did he do to deserve this?!?

When he started noticing that EVEN MORE of his stuff was going missing than usual, he straight-up flipped! Like, had the mortal not been pretty tough in their own right they would have been Lotan-chow. End of discussion.

… And then they started using their powers for good? Kind of?

Like, first off they would always give back what they stole, which was a nice change from Mammon. Annoying, but at least he didn't have to go buy replacement games or anything…

And then they started stealing him limited edition merch or tickets and stuff because they… liked him?? He guessed???

Why else would they go to all the trouble of swiping one of the five ultra-rare Kitsune Ruri-chan figurines from its original collector? He would have had to pay Mammon half his tail for something like that but the MC just brought it to him one morning because they could!

Is… is this love? Has he grown to love that which he hates?! What is even happening anymore!?! Who is he?!? 😫

Eventually he has to reconcile his conflicted feelings by dubbing them the real life Peony Phantom Thief, Jane and even making them a cosplay. Yes, they have to wear it when they bring him things. No, it's not weird, shut up.

Satan

He wants to be irritated, no - furious, that they keep taking his stuff… But he’ll be damned if they aren’t making Lucifer’s life a living hell right now. 😏

He's honestly not even sure how they managed to swipe half of the priceless portraits in the Castle (a considerable feat since there's one for Every. Room.) but they pulled it off in under a week. Barbs didn't even notice the replicas…

If that's not mildly terrifying, he doesn't know what is. Who knows what things he could be missing at any given moment...?

At least the mortal had the good sense to return his things, unlike Mammon, which gets them off his shit list for the most part. 🤷‍♀️

It helps that they’re also impressively well-traveled. They claim to have been across every human continent and sailed every ocean. Though he was skeptical at first, just hearing their stories eventually convinced him.

What sort of person has sailed the Amazon River, hiked through Arctic tundra, seen every major capital city, and still had time to explore the sights of the French Riviera?

One that has magical teleportation powers apparently.

Frankly, he could listen to their stories of the human world all day and still ask for another. He's told them that they may as well just write a book of their own for him at some point, it'd be beneficial to their poor vocal chords.

Asmodeus

Ugh! Really? Another thief in the House?? Wasn’t one hard enough to deal with?!

Honestly, stolen beauty products aren't exactly something you can just sell or give back, so unfortunately a lot of Asmo's clothes/accessories get targeted and he is NOT happy about it...

Around the time his favorite scarf was stolen for the third time, he was about to gut the mortal himself, but they struck a deal with him. They could nab his clothes SO LONG as they returned them with an extra little "gift."

Jewelry, perfume, creams, nail polish, etc. Asmo kept a running list and pretty much treated his thieving friend like a less moral version of Akuzon. Whatever he asked for, no matter how rare or expensive, they always got their hands on so who was he to complain?

He once decided to test them by asking for the Hope Diamond - which they got for him - but he made them return it after a week after the curse on it made him ruin a particularly intricate manicure so…

Like Satan, he's also pretty impressed with all the places they've seen. He's pretty traveled in the human world himself so they exchange travel stories all the time!

He may bother them to him out traveling from time to time. There are so many gorgeous and romantic places to visit in the human world after all, it's not like anybody could stop them from just… popping in to have a look. Right? 😏

Beelzebub

They learned very quickly that his food is absolutely off limits and after that, they were good.

Seriously. Beel caught them once trying to swipe a piece of pizza from his dinner and he nearly ripped their arm off for it…

But on the flipside, he also knows that he can go to them if he REALLY needs a snack and is short on cash.

It's pretty comical watching the fleet-foot mortal running from angry demon vendors with a basket of stolen apples for their buddy… But he appreciates their enthusiasm! 🙂

Beel actually likes to hear about their travels too, but mostly what they've eaten. They can keep him enraptured for hours by describing all the food they've come across in the human world…

Watch out for the drool, though.

Since they can teleport, they'll sometimes pop up with a human world treat for him and the man internally swears his undying love for them every time...

Outwardly, though, he just smiles. 'Cause he's a sweetie.

Belphegor

They… they opened the attic door on, like, the first day they met… They didn’t even make it look that hard, they had some kind of knack for breaking and entering…

Seriously, imagine the look on his face when they just walk into the attic to say hello… He had this whole, “Lure and Trick the Human” plan all thought out then they pulled out a magic lockpick or something and BOOM! Freedom!

He laughed, perhaps a little closer to the edge of sanity than he was intending, and he tried to attack them but they were so damn fast he couldn't land a single hit!

Damn was it embarrassing when the others came in…

MC: "LUCIFER! LUCIFER!! There's a monster in your attic!!!"

Lucifer: "That's not a monster that's my brother!!"

MC: *stops midway through kneeing Belphie in the stomach* …. Ooooooooh!

MC: Whoops.

It was a… rocky start.

After they settled their differences quelled Belphie's bloodlust he found that they kind of grew on him rather quickly… Something about that mischievous energy and how much they gave his brothers (minus Beel) grief with it.

He absolutely helps them with their plans if it will annoy Lucifer in any way. Occasionally, they'll even take Belphie out on raids instead of Mammon.

Turns out he's surprisingly good at distractions because all he has to do is pretend to fall then take a nap. People around him will legitimately believe that he needs medical attention so the MC can sneak through crowds undetected...

Of course, Mammon gets PISSED when they do this, though. How dare his baby brother try to steal away his perfect partner!! Get your own damn mortal, Belphie!!! 🤬

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me demigods

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thestarrynightslover · 4 years ago

Text

It’s a Good Day to Have a Bad Date

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,383

Warnings: Slight mentions of an OC with criminal priors, violent tendencies, and a juvenile record. A teeny-tiny bit of angst.

Summary: The reader meets Jay as she's trying to find out stuff about the guy she's about to go out with and ends up switching dates.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Just to make one thing clear: I did some research on Illinois's laws (not sure I got it right tho) and, apparently, this fic is very inaccurate. But I really wanted to pursue the idea, so just humor me, please 🙏🏻. Anyways, I had a lot of fun while writing this and thought about making a part two... But I'm not sure. Tell me what you think! 💗

| masterlist |

You inhaled deeply one more time before you walked into the police district. There wasn’t even a real reason for you to be so nervous about it. You weren’t a victim and you weren’t a criminal. So, what’s the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen was, of course, you getting a bunch of cops mad at you because you went to waste their time with some pathetic whining. It was decided, you were gonna turn back around right now, while you still had time, and just go home.

On second thought, though, it was a matter of public safety. Your safety. Which was just as valid because you were just as much of a U.S. citizen as anyone else. So you went in.

Shit. The place was almost empty, which meant everyone would notice if you left. And they’d ask questions, so you figured you’d, at least, get ahead of them, as you walked shyly towards the front desk. There, you were met by an older woman who looked bored, and still, terrifying.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked you, while cautiously checking you out. Oh my God, she thought you could be a victim! You were such an idiot.

“Um, it’s, um, it’s actually nothing, really. I shouldn’t even have come here in the first place.” You told her while smiling a little. What you didn’t know was that what you said had only raised more flags in the sergeant’s mind, even catching the attention of a tall man writing some things down on a paper at the corner of the counter. The young detective stayed back because he knew that Platt would know how to manage the situation, but continued listening to every word of the conversation.

The sergeant, then, took her glasses off, setting them on the counter. “Listen, miss, my name is Trudy Platt and the reason why I became a cop was that I wanted to help people, in every way that I possibly could. So, if you need my help with anything, just tell me what it is. And, I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.” She assured you and, as much as you felt this huge sympathy for the woman, you also felt even worse about making her waste her time. So you tried to fix things.

“Oh, my God! I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m not a victim in any way, thank God. I said that I shouldn’t have come here because I’m not even sure if what I wanted to ask is legal…” You told her with a nervous laugh. Hearing that, the Sergeant’s eyes sparked with curiosity.

“Well, then I probably won’t be able to help you.” She told you, stressing the ‘probably’ and making the man at the end of the counter shamelessly turn his face in your direction in order to better hear your conversation. “But… Since you’re already here, and it’s been such a slow day for the District, maybe you should just ask me whatever you want to and I’ll be the judge of whether that’s legal or not. After all, unless you’re some sort of lawyer, I should know more about the law than the average civilian.” The Sergeant skilfully baited you.

“Um, no, I’m not a lawyer.” You confirmed with a small laugh while tugging some of your hair behind your ear. “Actually, since I’ve just recently moved here to Chicago ⎼ to Illinois, really ⎼, I’m probably a lot below your average civilian.” You stated with a giggle. At that, the guy that had lost his discretion about eavesdropping started chuckling a little himself, to which the older woman responded with a look you’d absolutely hate having directed to you.

“So, Chuckles, you have nothing better to do than to stay here listening to other people’s conversations?”

“First of all, it’s detective,” he started in a mocked smug tone, “and, second: no, uh, I actually don’t. I came to fill this paperwork down here exactly because we were about to kill each other upstairs, just to get out of the boredom.” He added, raising some paper files he had in-hand. “Besides, you know how much I, too, love to help people.” He said while shooting you a charming smile. Okay, that guy was pretty handsome. “Jay Halstead, nice to meet you.” The detective informed you, holding out his hand.

“Right, um, nice to meet you too, sir.” You replied, shaking his hand. “I didn’t even say my name, what a clums!” You joked while patting yourself on the forehead. “I’m (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“Okay, just, please, lose the ‘sir’ with that one, otherwise, he’ll never let it go.” Trudy chipped back in the conversation.

“So, what was it that you wanted to ask the sarge? I can assure you that we’ll let you know if it’s illegal. After all, two judges are better than one.” He suggested, all smiles.

“Since when?” The sergeant practically barked at the younger man, just to add: “You know what? You wanna be here at my front desk, Halstead? Then be here, but be quiet and let the lady talk.” She bluntly ordered him, who decided to do as he was told.

“Alright, um, it’s just that this guy who I don’t really know anything about asked me out and I said yes, even though I got a bad vibe from him?” They just stared at you with their jaws dropped, so you added: “Pathetic, I know. But I didn’t really wanna judge him without any proof, or anything like that, so I figured that, maybe, I could try and check if he has any criminal priors or something.” You finished with a tiny embarrassed smile.

“And why on Earth would you think that we could give you this type of information?” The sergeant asked you, her expression being one of pure shock.

“I, uh…” You didn’t really want to embarrass yourself even more but felt the urge to explain anyways. “It’s just that I’m a small-town girl, okay? And, over there, everybody knew my family, so, whenever I wanted to go out with someone, my dad would just ask his buddies at the Sheriff’s office to look the guy over. And he always told me that that was really important, so, when I moved to the state’s capital, I just wouldn’t go out with anyone unless a close friend vouched for him. Because I was terrified of what I’d see and hear on the news. But here… I don’t really know anyone yet.” You blurted it all out, to two strangers! To two cops who probably had something, or somethings, better to do than to listen to your whining. “Anyhow, I’m really sorry that I wasted your time, guys. Won’t happen again.” At that, they exchanged a look, and the sergeant said:

“You know what? You’re right, kid. The world is a dangerous place. And, unfortunately, it is even more dangerous for us women. So I’m gonna look the guy up. But I’m not gonna tell you exactly what it says if something comes up.” She told you, much for your surprise, and, then, turned to the detective, saying: “If you say a single word about this to anyone, and I mean anyone, Chuckles, I swear to God that I’ll cut your tongue out myself.”

“Geez, sarge. How can you swear such an ugly thing like that to God?” He asked her, in a mockery tone, while making a hilarious expression.

“Ha! Keep that up and your tongue won’t be the only thing I’m gonna cut.” She threatened him again and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter when he made a shocked expression and put his hands protectively over his crotch.

“For your information, I wanna help the girl just as much as you, so I wouldn’t say anything. You didn’t have to threaten me.” He tried to recover, as you handed her a small piece of paper with your possible date’s name.

“Oh, I know. But I wasn’t about to miss out on the opportunity.” She shot back at him while typing the name on the District’s computer. “Okay, here it is... Wow."

"What? What is it?" You asked her, as you watched the detective perk himself over the counter to look at the screen.

"Jesus. This guy's got himself quite a rap sheet." He commented, making you shiver, thinking of what could happen to you, if you went on with the date.

"What exactly do you mean by that, detective?" You asked the man who probably noticed your discomfort, because he spoke again, in a tranquilizing tone:

"No, relax. It's nothing too bad, like violent or anything. But there's some pretty nasty stuff here." He told you, not really making you relax.

"There's something here, though." That caught the detective's eye again. "His juvenile record is sealed, the only thing I can see without a warrant is an observation from his caseworker. She says something about him having violent tendencies." She told you with a sigh, taking her glasses off again. "Look, I know that I can't tell what to do and what to not do, (y/n), but, as a suggestion? Stay the hell away from this piece of work. You seem like a nice enough girl, I'd hate to see you come in here as a victim someday."

“Oh, God, no! I heard you loud and clear, sergeant! Don’t worry about it, I’m canceling that date ASAP!” You exclaimed, agreeing with her.

“That’s great!” The detective spoke this time, sounding a little too happy about the fact that you were about to cancel a date with a man who had criminal priors and violent tendencies. So both you and the other woman stared at him. “Err, I mean because you’re not gonna go out with him.” You just giggled a little at the way he was digging an even deeper hole for himself. “Because he’s a bad guy.” He added, once again getting a glare from Trudy. “You know what I mean.” He finished, defeated, not looking in your eyes.

“Well, uh,” you started, trying to keep yourself from laughing too hard, “anyways, I can only thank you both. You guys got me out of something that could be really unpleasant, to say the least.” You told them, a bit more serious this time.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just glad we could help.” Detective Halstead said, smiling kindly at you.

“Yeah. This time, I actually agree with you, Halstead.” The sergeant half-joked.

“Aw, that’s very kind, but, really, thank you!” You restated your gratitude, then asking: “I should probably get going now, right? Stop wasting your time?”

“It’s not like we were doing much before you got here-” Trudy began saying, but was interrupted by the detective, who quickly told you:

“Yeah, you should go. You know, cause a police District…” You knew he was right, but those two seemed like really nice people, especially after having helped you dodge a bullet, so to speak, and you’d hoped that you were finally making some friends in the Windy-City. “Anyways, um, lemme walk you out.” He offered you while motioning to the door. At that, you and the sergeant shared a look that told you she also found it weird that the detective would wanna walk with you through such a minimal distance.

“Uh, um, o- okay.” As you and Halstead walked towards the exit, you couldn’t help but notice what nice features he had. Like, your mind just kept going back to what a good-looking man he was.

“So…” He trailed off.

“So…” You answered, not really sure about what to say.

“You know, um, it’s gotta be a hell of a bummer for you. Being here in Chicago without knowing many people. This city… It’s all about finding your community.” He told you in a sympathetic tone.

“Hum…” You breathed out as you thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, well, I guess that I can only hope I’ll have better luck at making acquaintances the next time I go out to explore it.”

“Right.” The detective agreed. “Uh, listen, I know that this may sound a little too forward, but, maybe, I could show you some of my favorite places, someday? I mean, only if you’re interested! Because I don’t want you to feel like-”

“Actually, I’d very much like that! If it isn’t going to be any trouble for you…” You cut him off excitedly.

“No! No trouble at all!” He quickly assured you. “Um, thi- this is my card.” He said, lifting up a small business card for you to see. “I’m gonna write my personal number on the back of it. Call, or text me when you have some time to go out. Or if you just want someone to talk…” The handsome man added with a smile. God, what a smile.

“Okay, um, thanks, dete-”

“No, please! Call me Jay.”

“Alright,” you acknowledged, a little nervous this time, “then, thank you, Jay. Just, be advised, I can be very talkative sometimes, which means you might regret giving me this.” You warned him with a sly smile while waving the card in front of his face.

“Huh.” Jay pretended to consider it for a moment. “Is it too weird if I say I have a feeling that I won’t regret it?” He then asked you with a cute shy smile.

“Well, it sure isn’t weirder than me saying that I really hope you don’t regret it.” You confessed to him with a wink.

“Hey, are you two gonna take that flirting elsewhere on your own, or do you need me to get you a room?” You heard Sergeant Platt call out, blushing immediately.

“I’m so sorry about that!” Jay told you, looking a little flushed himself. “You should probably go now.” He added with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I think you’re right..” You agreed, but, as you were turning around to leave, he grabbed your wrist lightly, saying:

“Just… Don’t forget to call.” Hearing that, you snickered a little.

“I have a feeling that I won’t.” You told him, almost repeating his previous words, which got some chuckles out of him.

Now you understood the nickname.

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along-came-atsushi · 4 years ago

Text

Akutagawa – Dazai – Atsushi: An analysis about their relationship

And why Dazai treats them so differently.

The symbolism of Atsushi and Akutagawa:

From their outward appearance and their design alone, Atsushi and Akutagawa are meant as opposites, but they’re also a duality:

Both wear black and white clothes, but whereas Atsushi is mostly white with a streak of black, Akutagawa wears mostly black with a streak of white. It’s even represented in their hair colours.

Besides this, there are many other things that mark their oppositeness and their duality to each other:

Atsushi is a member of the ADA, while Akutagawa is a member of the PM. Atsushi’s ability colour is blue, Akutagawa’s ability colour is red. Being a member of the ADA makes Atsushi someone who works for the “light and day”, Akutagawa is someone who works for the “darkness and night.” Atsushi loves cats, Akutagawa hates dogs. Atsushi’s ability takes the form of a tiger, Akutagawa’s ability represents a dragon, both creatures are important elements in Asian mythology. Ultimately, Atsushi symbolizes life or is associated with life, while Akutagawa symbolizes death or is associated with death.

Considering this, the title Shin Soukoku (Double Black) isn’t even a fitting name for them, since they both aren’t simply a double, as both Mori and Fukuzawa or Dazai and Chuuya were.

[Beware: Spoilers starting from chapter 83]

Dazai’s mindset and his relationship with Akutagawa:

1.) One of the reasons why Dazai’s treatment towards Akutagawa as a mentor was so cruel and brutal, firstly lies in his overall negative mental state during his PM time. He was visibly unhappy, constantly surrounded by death and violence, and more than now struggled with his suicidal thoughts.

Is it an explanation for his treatment of Akutagawa? −Yes, it is.

Is it an excuse for his treatment of Akutagawa? −No, it isn’t.

2.) Another reason is that this is just how things are done in the Mafia. There is no sense in handling someone with kid gloves in the PM, a place where you get killed for disobeying orders, where you shouldn’t see your peers as friends or get to intimate with anyone:

“It’s an unwritten rule in the Mafia to not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. One must never open the door to another’s heart and try to judge them for the darkness tucked within.” – Odasaku

If it wouldn’t have been Dazai who taught Akutagawa in such a cruel way, with high probability, it would’ve been someone else. Or as Dazai explained, a sign of weakness will get you killed in the PM:

And Dazai had the absolute chance to kill Akutagawa after he disobeyed orders and killed a person captured for interrogation. His ability can nullify all other abilities by mere touch. He could’ve simply touched Akutagawa, so that he wouldn’t have been able to use his ability to protect himself, and then shot him on the spot. But he didn’t do that, because:

“Akutagawa – he’s like a sword without a sheath.” Dazai grinned from ear to ear. “He’ll surely become the Mafia’s strongest skill user in the not-so-distant future. But for now he needs someone who can teach him how to put that sword away.” [...]

“When I first saw him over in the slums, I was horrified. His talents are extraordinary, and his skill is extremely destructive. Plus, he’s stubborn. If I’d left him to his own devices, he would’ve ended up a slave to his own powers until he destroyed himself.” – Dazai to Odasaku

He already valued Akutagawa’s skill and saw the huge potential in him:

I was surprised. I had never heard Dazai openly speak so highly of one of his men like that before. [...]

Dazai didn’t freely make people work under him, period; much less a boy on the verge of starvation in the slums. But Dazai seemed to have his own reasons for doing it. – Odasaku about Dazai

Something which is also later confirmed by Atsushi:

“I believe Dazai-san has acknowledged you long ago.”

Why is it then that Dazai still treats Akutagawa so badly and doesn’t tell his approval right to his face? Something that becomes Akutagawa’s main purpose for a long time, even after Dazai left PM.

Dazai’s relationship with Odasaku and Ango:

Dazai’s behaviour and actions when he’s with Ango and Odasaku clearly shows that he can be different and doesn’t treat everyone with cruelty and coldness, if he wants to.

But what’s the difference between the two people he considers his friends and the people who are his subordinates?

-> Ango and Odasaku value and respect life.

The reason Dazai becomes and is attached to Odasaku and Ango is their viewpoint about death and life:

“I would become a novelist and write a story about why the man stopped killing. But to become a novelist, I needed to sincerely know what it meant to live. – Odasaku

“You’re quite the interesting fellow, Ango. Doing that isn’t going to make the boss happy. […]” “You’re making records of the lives of the deceased. Am I right?” […] “The line between human losses and those of money and equipment begin to blur. There is no individual, no soul, and no dignity to death. But you’re fighting back against that.” – Dazai to Ango

This is the reason why he values them so much that he considers them his friends. He’s not friends with them because he gains something from it, or because they have interesting abilities, or because they are on the same intellectual level as him (which they aren’t). Something that gets emphasized by Odasaku’s rank. He descended from an assassin (a high reputation in the PM) to a maid-of-all-work and an errand boy (a low reputation in the PM).

Dazai is attracted to and fascinated by people who value life – something you don’t find in the PM, and something he himself struggles to understand. Probably because there never was a person who taught him this. Like a curious child, he turns to people who he knows have a better understanding in this than him.

He even becomes very irritated when one of his subordinates questions his friendship with Odasaku:

“Dazai, sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but… I saw him [Odasaku] sweeping behind the office the other day. A man of his status isn’t qualified to be your friend, let alone with an enemy like this.” Dazai stared, flabbergasted, at his underling.

“Are you joking? Odasaku’s not qualified?” Dazai asked, thoroughly surprised. […] “You fools!” Dazai’s lips curled into a sneer in genuine disgust.

This respect doesn’t solely concern Odasaku and Ango. Hirotsu is also one of the very few people he respects for this reason. Even though Hirotsu may not value life in the same terms as Odasaku and Ango do, but he also doesn’t lightly throw away his subordinates lives either:

“…Ha-ha! Just kidding!” Dazai abruptly added in a cheery tone. Hirotsu stared back at him, confused. “The reason you have so many people following you is that you don’t turn your back on them. I’ll leave things in your hands. I won’t tell the boss.”

It’s only when Odasaku dies in Dazai’s arms and tells him to go protect the living, that he starts to change his behaviour and viewpoint.

Dazai and his many failed suicide attempts:

Why is it that Dazai − a genius, a manipulator, someone who exactly knows how the human psyche works, someone who’s predictions always come true and who has plans within plans – then always fails when he tries to kill himself?

Dazai has read the book “The Complete Suicide” so often that he can cite it in his sleep. He has engaged in torture and killed many people. He knew exactly how to involve Ango and himself in a car crash without them dying.

If he really wanted to, he could’ve already killed himself many times ago. He claims that “he doesn’t like pain and suffering”, which according to him is the reason why his suicide attempts fail. But there are ways how he could kill himself without just that. It’s just that he doesn’t WANT to die.

„I thought if all went well, I could die a heroic death on the battlefield. But the dozen or so armed guys who showed up were a real scrappy bunch. […] Thus, I unfortunately avoided death once again.”

He always tells that something inconvenient happened that kept him from dying. But sometimes people around him notice that there’s something wrong in his attempts:

“I was walking and reading a book called ‘How To Not Get Hurt Out Of The Blue’ and fell into a drainage ditch.” A surprisingly absurd reason. – Odasaku and Dazai

“I glance at his desk and see the blasphemous book he bought the other day, ‘The Complete Suicide’, opened to a page titled ‘Death by Poisoning Mushrooms.’ Next to the book lies a plate with a half-eaten mushroom on it. However, upon further inspection, it appears to be a slightly different color from the one in the book. – Kunikida about Dazai

“I thought you [Gide] were similar to Dazai at first, rushing into battle and wishing for death without even considering the value of your own life. But he’s different. […] And he’s just a child−a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we’re seeing.” – Odasaku to Gide about Dazai.

Dazai is a person who actively seeks life and wants to be freed from his own philosophy. He’s struggling between seeking death, which he thinks is the only way to free him from his loneliness and suffering, and seeking life for the simple reason that he doesn’t want to die.

Dazai’s relationship with Atsushi:

Atsushi saved Dazai from drowning despite the fact that he himself was on the brink of starvation. The first thing Dazai got attached to Atsushi is his view on life. Despite the abuse he suffered, Atsushi seeks life and wants to live, makes it even his reason to fight and his life motto.

“The lives of those who can’t save anyone have no value”. In that moment an idea suddenly popped into my mind. […] If by any chance I can let the passengers return home save and sound does that prove that it’s okay for me to live?”

Throughout the story, Atsushi transfers his viewpoint and determination to characters who have a connection to death, darkness and/or suffering (e.g. Kyouka, Lucy).

The reason Atsushi values life, being the symbolical personification of it, is the reason why Dazai is able to treat him much better than Akutagawa.

Forming Shin Soukoku:

Dazai says that Akutagawa is a highly skilled student, but he needs someone to sharpen him. He instantly decides and plans to team him up with Atsushi, the moment he meets him. He knows that Atsushi, due to his view on life, is the only one who can teach Akutagawa to value life himself and to change as a person. In other words “the one who can teach him how to put that sword away”.

This is something Dazai in the past couldn’t and still can’t teach Akutagawa (or anyone at all for that matter). Because he himself needs and wants to be taught that, so he seeks people who are able to give him a different understanding in this (see Ango and Odasaku). Vice versa Akutagawa isn’t able to teach Dazai how to value life, because he himself represents death and has a strong connection to it. It’s one of the very first things he says when he gets introduced in the story:

“Fear death. Fear slaughter. Those who desire death have an equal desire to die.”

Even though Atsushi’s words may seem very harsh, but it IS one of the reasons why Dazai so abruptly abandoned Akutagawa. Is it an explanation? −Yes, it is. Is it an excuse? −No, it isn’t.

Another reason is that Dazai tries to flee from his responsibilities, his past and the terrible things he has done (including Akutagawa’s abuse), because he is not able to face them. Not now that is. He is still in need of guidance and of change, in order to be able to do this.

[Side note: Dazai and guilt is something that can be analysed in its very own meta. I’m not expanding on it further here].

Akutagawa’s connection to death gets emphasized by him even disobeying orders to not kill, for the sole reason that in his mind, killing is much simpler and more effective. He lashes out and tries to kill the people who are respected by Dazai and/or considered friends, even though he should know that an action like this will definitely not get him the approval he so wants.

He was willing to kill Atsushi, even though his mission was to capture him alive, ignoring the possible consequences this would have had for him.

But throughout the story Akutagawa changes his viewpoint. He thinks that the reason why Dazai acknowledges Atsushi and puts him above him, is because he is a better (better in the sense of physical and ability strength) subordinate than him. But he realizes that this can’t be the case and questions it more than once:

His former pure jealousy and grudge towards Atsushi (something which he also felt for Odasaku) slowly turns into questioning, trying to understand what differs them from each other. Dazai knows very well that Akutagawa is still obsessed with him and his approval. Therefore if necessary, he uses this to manipulate him, if it’s to either protect/help Atsushi or to get them both to work together:

Akutagawa starts to constantly challenge Atsushi, questioning him, and demanding him for an answer. It’s only when Akutagawa saves Yokohoma from the Moby Dick crash, that Dazai openly tells him “you did well”.

The reason why Dazai does this so hesitantly, shows that he is still in his own metamorphosis. He’s slowly changing as is Akutagawa. He is still afraid to face his responsibilities, but doesn’t treat his former subordinate cruel anymore.

This change in Akutagawa goes so far that Atsushi is able to ask him to not to kill anyone until they meet again. When told about, Dazai is visibly happy, as it is something that he as a mentor wasn’t able to do. He is reminded of Odasaku, comparing Akutagawa now to him:

Due to this, Dazai now has this much faith in Akutagawa that he puts the task to keep an eye on Atsushi and to protect him in his hands:

Mind the difference of his expressions when he talks with Akutagawa then and now:

Dazai doesn’t team Atsushi and Akutagawa up only for strength and fighting reasons. Or because their abilities are compatible in battle. But because Dazai knows that Akutagawa won’t unnecessarily kill anymore, because he is seeking answers through Atsushi and is changing through their interactions:

He keeps his promise, much to Atsushi’s surprise, but it’s out of the question that he is happy about this:

Akutagawa promising not to kill anyone, keeping his promise in the end and even going so far as to protect someone, in other words valuing life, is something which Dazai could’ve never taught him. And again, he still can’t. Dazai is not solely the teacher, but the student himself. And although Atsushi may be a teacher for both of them in his philosophy, he is a student of Akutagawa and Dazai in other things.

Because what Atsushi lacks is self-confidence and his own worth, faith in his own abilities and the mental strength to overcome his past abuse and trauma. Those are things he learns through Dazai and especially, through Akutagawa.

#ryunosuke akutagawa bsd #atsushi nakajima bsd #osamu dazai bsd #shin soukoku #sakunosuke oda bsd #ango sakaguchi bsd #Ryunosuke Akutagawa #Atsushi Nakajima #Osamu Dazai #Sakunosuke Oda #Ango Sakaguchi #Bungou Stray Dogs #bsd meta #my meta

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 12

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ for explicit sexual content: depictions of sub/dom lifestyle and lead up to m/m sexual relationship. If it’s not your thing please keep scrolling. Thank you!

Is there a word for this feeling? The one that happens when you wake up not knowing when or where you are…

Is it day, is it night? Is this my bed? Is this even a bed? Am I home and if not, how far away am I? So many questions go tumbling around in your head so quickly that you just have to shut your eyes against the bizarre sensation. It’s one of the few that’s happened to absolutely everyone at some point. And as you lie there in bed —yes, this is definitely a bed— you think, no way the Germans don’t have a word for this strange phenomenon.

Inhaling slowly, exhaling even slower, you finally feel it come rushing back to you so that by the time you’ve filled your lungs with a nice deep breath of salty ocean air, the smile that raises your cheeks turns into a silent laugh as you roll onto your side, curling up tight, sliding your hand across the empty expanse of the cool bedsheets, lightly perfumed by the fading scent of his cologne which makes you feel warm all over.

You open your eyes, blinking, focusing, letting the view refresh the last of the memories.

You should have known, you think laying your hand on the pillow where he’d been. You stroke the high thread count like you did his hair and his face as he’d looked into your eyes and your racing hearts settled. How many unnecessary tears were shed for him? How much time was spent worrying that you might never see the man again when all you had to do was trust that no prison could keep Helmut Zemo locked away for long, and you laugh because a year must be a record for shortest maximum security prison stays.

Now, while escaping from the supposedly inescapable is impressive, you can’t begin to fathom how he’s done it and you’re more than happy to keep it that way which is probably for the best as Zemo’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want you in possession of said knowledge for your own safety. The less you know at this uncertain stage in the game the better. You’re physically far from government detection or any others lookin to recapture the Baron for that matter, still, nothing is ever fully guaranteed.

Luckily it’s hard to feel anything other than at peace as you smile and lazily roll onto your back, stretching your arms over your head before looking down the length of the king sized bed to find the source of light warming your bare skin.

Oh, you smile That’s right.

The matching circular windows are very large and offer views of wild blue water as far as the eye can see. It is the very definition of tranquility.

And just off to the side is a glass door that opens to a large balcony just calling your name. You'll spend too much time out there soon enough you think, imagining falling asleep with a good book and a drink. After all, you’ve got two weeks before you reach France and then it's a quick flight to you final destination of Villefranche-Sur-Mer, according to Zemo.

Two incredible weeks— and to think you’d nearly dismissed that text this morning as nothing but annoying spam.

Luckily something about it brought you back after you'd poured cereal and milk into your bowl. You’d sat at the kitchen counter unable to look away from that single message sent from an unknown number, your breakfast all but forgotten.

It was short and to the point and it reminded you of the kind Zemo used to send what felt like a lifetime ago when the instructions were no more than a time but now there was the added bonus of a location and you were no longer the sole recipient.

The sound of Bucky charging down the hall of his apartment that had become just as much yours since Zemo went away answered the question before it could be asked.

“You got it too didn’t you?” You’d asked him looking up.

Bucky stood in the doorway, hair wet and slicked back from his shower, gripping the towel he’d quickly tossed around his waist and smelling like your body wash which he liked to snag when he ran out of his own. You didn’t mind so much but it was confusing when you were a tangle of arms and legs and other parts that smelled the same…

“It’s a trick. It’s gotta be.” He’d insisted, to which you’d rolled your eyes and considered throwing your phone at his head for saying something so ridiculous. Why would Zemo play a game so cruel. “He’s in the raft” He said your name with a finality that made you reconsider, but when you looked down at your phone again, you knew it wasn’t true.

This was him. This was Zemo.

“Go get dressed. I really think something’s happened.” You’d told him. He’d stood there for a second longer, his face unreadable. But he did turn and disappear down the hall, wet footprints on the hard wood left behind.

You must have been shaking as you waited. You’d been so anxious and your head a mess of worry and hope and fear and hesitation but so much excitement.

By the time Bucky came back dressed in sweats and a t-shirt which bothered you because you wanted him dressed to go, you were completely convinced you’d hear a knock at the door and find the Baron on the other side, you’d always been good at working yourself up into a frenzy.

Bucky had been the complete opposite. You can still see him; a gloomy hundred year old kill-joy.

You remember thinking he might have been a worried at first. A little jealous or scared maybe? Like he’d gotten too used to your life and the return of the man responsible for what you had together could also be the one to see it come to an end which was just silly. James was and would always will be your best friend, but your friendship had long since proven to be more than late night Netflix binging and ordering takeout.

In fact the night before the text, he’d come in long after you’d gone to bed. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks on some grand mission with Sam —off to save the world no doubt.

You were dreaming when he’d slipped in behind you and pulled you close, waking you with the warmth of those perfect lips so soft and full, the touch of his kiss leaving a trail of heat down your shoulder and back, only to flip you over once you were half awake with the strength of that wonderfully dangerous arm. As he pulled your shorts down and found you in the dark, you happily gave in, welcoming him home as only you could, and never once did either of you expect that your unconventional but comfortable life would come to such an abrupt end.

But no, he wasn’t jealous. You knew it because there was something sort of sweet in the look of shock on his face that gave you pause in asking why he was reacting this way.

That, was the look of man conflicted.

As you’d begun cleaning the apartment —certain you’d be leaving it soon— you’d paused and studied him sitting on the couch, alone with his thoughts, phone held in his hand like he’d never put it down. You knew Bucky well enough to know the basics of what he must have been thinking.

The Winter Soldier had been trapped in the living prison of his own body for a lifetime. Now Bucky was forever free to make his own choices. You certainly wouldn’t be the one to persuade him into doing anything he didn’t truly want to do. But you also knew that you weren’t alone in missing Zemo; not after what the three of you had shared and certainly not after what the two of them had come so close to starting.

But that poor dear, somewhat clueless man. For someone who was still adjusting to life in the present day after such a strange journey you tried to cut him some slack. He was still torn, still stuck between worlds. Having to question what he knew about his sexuality didn’t seem like a very fair thing to have to add to the mix, but that’s life. Unexpected to say the least.

He could no more deny his draw to Zemo than he could his desire to be a good person. These things were solid facts; He didn’t want to kill anymore and he was absolutely attracted to this man and presumably others, but yes particularly this one.

But now he was worried that giving in to his own happiness might cost him his friendship with people like Sam, and almost certainly his freedom when he’d only just gotten it back. Not because of being bi-sexual, but, because of, well— Helmut Zemo.

As much as you didn’t want to, you could easily understand the conflict.

Once you’d finished cleaning and packing your weekend bag you went back into the living room and made him look at you. “I know you’re worried about Sam and the others. All those super heroes you know. But what sort of friends would they be if they stopped you from living your life the way you want to live it?”

“Good ones if It means living with an escaped criminal.” His retort was so logical. You hate it when he’s right.

“One that you helped escape before right?”

“That was for a reason. This is all Zemo.”

“Did he really deserve to be in there?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question.”

You did not, so you’d stepped away and gave in, just letting him be.

It was frustrating to say the least but Bucky was not allowed to steal your joy, no matter how true it all was. Unfortunately, he was very much tied to that joy.

When you’d rushed back down the hall almost forgetting your tooth brush, he’d finally gotten up and gone into the bedroom but you'd ignored him, not out of anger but because It broke your heart to think you’d be leaving him alone to his own misery. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but if you absolutely had to you would.

Zemo was the man you’d loved long before you met Bucky, you would not put the Baron aside for another person's moral dilemmas, even if might crush your heart. You would leave and send word of where you and Zemo were and hope that he could join you in time but you had to see Helmut, you couldn’t ignore the message.

However, Sargent James Buchanan Barnes could be a real man of surprise when he wanted to be.

As you finished cleaning up, tears in your eyes for what you would be leaving behind, he’d come into the kitchen with his own black duffle bag and tossed it down on the floor.You’d spun around at the sound of it hitting the tile and kept it together but you could have screamed you were so happy.

He gave you that “don’t say anything” look so instead you just flashed a brilliant smile and kissed his cheek which he dismissed as if he didn’t love it, but you saw the way his eyes lit up. He could have hidden it from someone else who hadn’t spent the last year living with him but not you.

“It’s not permanent. I can’t stay no matter where he’s taking us. But, for a little while I think it’ll be all right."

“Of course!” You weren't pressed, you'd just talk him into it later because as of that minute you’d been too elated to care about time.

“So what the hell are these instructions?” You’d asked Bucky in the cab out of the city

“I have an idea.” He said shaking his head a little. He was clearly thinking ‘what have I gotten myself into’ which made you laugh. You could hear Zemo in your head, his answer simply being ‘Trouble’

“Well where are we going?” You’d asked anxious to know more.

“I don’t think we’re staying in New York if that’s what you’re asking.”

You’d quickly looked back at the city, watching the bridges fade behind you, wondering if you’d see them again. There was a strong possibility that it would be a while before you did.

As expected, Bucky knew his stuff. You were definitely leaving the city. The instructions were a time and location as you’d guessed but you hadn’t understood that the second half were coordinates and not for the cab.

When you got out of the very expensive car ride— which you charged to that handy little black credit card that had magically appeared in your mailbox about a year ago (thanks prison daddy)— the two of you stood in what looked like no more than an old shipping yard.

“Come on, I actually know this place. We need to go this way.” Bucky said with his head down and eyes up, his serious face looking every bit the superhero he was when he wasn’t with you. It always made you laugh a little. This was the same guy who also sat around in his underwear watching reality competition shows with you eating ice cream…

“What’s this way?”

“Room.”

Cryptic. They always love being cryptic you’d grumbled following him, feeling on edge as you’d snaked your way through the maze of shipping containers and storage units.

As you came near the water, the rusted out rectangles did in fact clear and the narrow passages opened up giving enough space, or as Bucky had said, ‘room’ for a blacked out helicopter to rise up. It was the sort of midsized military grade machine made for traveling long distance and sitting inside was a pilot-- the sort who deals in silence and cash only transactions.

“What exactly did you tell Sam?” You’d asked once you were in the air with your headset on. “I’m sure you had to tell him something to keep him and anyone else from asking questions.”

“That I finally decided to take a vacation” Bucky’d said, his voice clear in your ears as he glanced at you. He didn't have to ask for you to see that he really didn't want you to make fun of him for it either.

“Ha! And he bought that?”

“I think so. He said it was— a good look for me.” He mocked Sams tone.

You’d laughed rubbing his warm arm and laying your head on his shoulder agreeing with Sam whole heartedly but for very different reasons.

About an hour or more in you’d fallen asleep only to be startled awake by the sound of Bucky’s humorless laughter just in time to see your destination come into view.

“I knew it.” He’d sneered looking through your window.

“Oh my god” You sat up leaning forward peering down at the white oval in the expanse of blue.

“Of course.” The way Bucky could detest Zemo’s opulence would forever amuse you. He’d sat back refusing to look anymore, as if you weren’t about to land anyway.

“It's perfect,” You’d insisted.

“He’s such an asshole” He'd grumbled but you’d caught the little twitch of a smile.

“Shut up Bucky. It’s amazing”

“Its a god damned yacht!” His voice gone high with the absolute offense of it all.

All you could do was laugh.

You lie in bed remembering stepping out of the helicopter, your bags tossed out and the bird in the air so quickly it’s like the pilot was never there.

“Still think this was a good idea?” Bucky’d asked as if anything about this might have changed your mind.

Impressed by the private landing pad on the highest deck but already aware of the delights that were undoubtedly waiting below, you’d just smiled and gave his cheek a pat. “Come on.”

Bucky grabbed both bags and you’d led him down the steps and onto a massive deck of beautiful pale wood lined with low white couches at the far end, blinding in the bold sun. Beneath the overhang was a large wet bar, with glasses already set out and an ice bucket, the neck of a champagne bottle greeting you.

“Please miss. Allow me”

You’d both looked behind you, startled to find the old butler Oeznik coming up from the center stairwell.

Poor thing, you'd nearly toppled him, throwing your arms around his neck but you really did adore that wonderful old man. He’d just laughed and hugged you back welcoming you aboard.

You thanked him but no sooner had he offered had you forgotten all about his hospitality.

Your back had been turned when you heard your name said with the soft accented voice that you had missed, craved and imagined for so many months…

“Helmut.” You will never forget what it felt like to turn and find him.

He stepped from the shadows and into the sun and you can still feel the way you’d bit down on your bottom lip to keep from crying.

Those eyes, that hair, his smile; so subtle and sly. You’d nearly forgotten that you could in fact go to him. He wasn’t just a man made up from your lonely daydreams but flesh and blood and so perfectly made.

It took him drawing his hands from his pants pockets— linen pants of all the casual things— to break the spell.

He’d opened his arms to just the right size for you and there was no holding back then.

What had it felt like? You try to remember now, but it's useless. You can remember him pulling you in as though he couldn’t stand another second without you close. You’d closed your eyes inhaling his scent as he touched your face and hair, his fingers brushing along your neck and shoulders. It’s so lovely and primitive the way touch and smell can become the thing that reunites and reacquaints us. You were like two animals in the wild and you’d gasped at the feel of his face gliding against yours, and his arms so tight around you until he'd pressed his forehead to yours whispering things you couldn’t understand as you held onto his forearms giving in to the thin line of tears that fell from your eyes. It was an unexpected moment of reconnecting. You knew you’d missed him, but this was so much more. You’d felt ready to submit to every command so quickly it honestly surprised you. The warm touch of his face against yours, his breath along your neck and finally his lips meeting your own was and will always be your first experience with what people describe as coming home. And then he’d pulled back, looked you in the eyes and simply said “Hello”

You couldn’t say anything back. You just watched him look past you and saw how his expression changed. You still can’t place it… “James.” The way he said his name. God it was so beautiful. You’d turned in Zemo’s arms and saw the look on Bucky’s face. There were tears in his eyes that you’re not sure he was even aware of.

“Zemo”

“How was the ride?” He’d asked politely.

“Fine.”

The tension was charged. There was unfinished business between them that they would need to work out on their own, but you hoped they could do it quickly.

And then Zemo raised his hand in offering. He had after all sent that text to two people.

Bucky hesitated for longer than he needed to, but when he did come forward and gripped the Baron in what he’d assumed would be no more than a handshake, Zemo smiled and pulled him in. He’d let go to hold Bucky by the back of his head for a moment gazing at his face. “I actually didn't expect you” He said sounding relieved.

Bucky gave in to his own feelings and reached out, gently grabbing Zemo’s waist. “Well Im here.”

“So you are.” He’d said, the pressure of such strong feelings for his soldier bubbling at the surface, desperate to be released. But he just stroked Bucky’s jaw with his thumb and smiled before looking down at you. “And now that you are, let me show you both around.”

Sitting up, you rub your eyes and find your clothes tossed all over the place mixed in with Zemo’s.

As he’d attempted to show you and Bucky the ship and explain your route, his hand would linger on the small of your back. He would find your curves as he talked about the endless amenities the yacht had to offer until neither of you were sure if he was talking about you or the boat. By the time you’d come down to the cabin deck, he’d pulled you close from behind as Bucky went on ahead unaware. Zemo grabbed your hips exhaling against your ear and you’re fairly certain it was the moan you let slip when he ever so gently pulled your hair, tilting your head to the side as he whispered something to you in Sokovian that got Bucky’s attention.

“James, please help yourself to anything at all. There are more comfortable clothes in the room here. If you’d like, Oeznik can help you find whatever you need. But— it has been a year since I’ve seen her.” He’d said his grip on your hair easing a bit as he stroked his fingers down your back. “As I’m sure you understand a year without a woman like this is a year too long.”

There was a tense few seconds between them and you worried you'd been wrong about the jealousy, but Bucky's face relaxed as he looked around Zemo towards the back of the yacht. “Was that a bottle of Longrow scotch I spotted in that other room?”

“Ah.” He seemed impressed with Bucky’s keen eye. “18 years." Zemo smiled.

“Perfect.” Bucky winked and slipped past giving your cheek a quick pinch.

After that you don’t even remember getting into the room. One second you’d been standing in the hall lost in a wash of furious kisses and the next he had you over his shoulder charging down the hall to the master bedroom practically kicking the door in.

He’d sat you down and you’d both gone wild pushing and pulling at your clothes only just breaking away from one another’s lips to actually undress with a few anxious smiles, some excited laughter tossed in until finally you were naked and then….

You hide your face behind your hand now remembering how good it felt, even though it’d been strange to have another man inside of you after so long.

There was no sign of your former lifestyle this time as he’d fucked you so perfectly. This time, desperate as he was, Helmut was gentle. He’d picked you up and held you between the wall and his own body, finding you easily, moaning into the space between you as he watched your face. He seemed so pleased to see you react to his attention as you once had, because yes, he was another man— he was the Baron and no one could ever take his place.

You’d ended up in the bed on your back nearly in tears from the feel of being under him after so long apart. Not until he’d felt you nearing your climax did he slip back into his natural state of dominance and only just enough to make the orgasm stronger as he’d closed his lovely fingers around your throat and looked into your eyes as you came and he’d whispered your name “I love you…"

Thank the stars that man is free, you smile wide now letting the lasting pleasure ripple through your body.

You look up and say it to yourself again letting the truth of him being here and you for that matter ground you. This day has been a whirlwind and until this moment you’ve been flung from one emotional state to the next. This is the first time you’ve been alone to process it and you are thankful, but the moment is short lived because Helmut’s escape was no small feat and you are not the only one ecstatic about his return.

Eyeing the closet across the room you feel a twinge of a different sort. Helmut is a planner, you’re certain there’s nothing but extraordinary outfits just waiting to be worn and you decide very easily that it’s time to get up and celebrate his freedom and address the very sexy, very annoying tension between the two men you love most in all the world before it consumes them both.

#zemo x reader #bucky barns x you #zemo fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #winterbaron #baron zemo #zemo smut #helmut zemo #bucky barnes is so sweet #also grumpy #but mostly the best #but also perfect

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

I know you’re on break but just and idea could be writing more about busker!Harry! I absolutely adore him plus the idea of him being signed is amazing. Even though he gets signed I feel like he would still play on the street to thank them for helping him etc.

yes we love busker!harry here! he’s such a soft little bean who loves no one more than you <3 ok here we go, hope it’s alright;

Smiles.

That’s all you take from each day after Harry’s performed his set on the streets of familiar Manchester. As much as you love the music Harry plays and the money that comes as a benefit of how well he does it, nothing quite makes your heart warm than the smiles of the people.

Whether there’s a passing group of teenage school girls who giggle to each other. Whether it’s a couple of men walking from one business meeting to another. Whether it’s just one man and his suitcase making a hurried dash for his train. Whether it’s an old woman on her way home from getting her weekly butchers meat. Or whether it was a baby in a pram not having a single clue what was going on. No matter who it was, they could never pass Harry with a smile. He smiled back, always. Harry would pause his singing to thank anyone who threw coppers in his beaten guitar case. He was genuine and that’s what people loved about him.

Even after he’d been signed to a huge record label, he stayed the exact same down-to-earth humble man you’d always known him to be. Fame and success didn’t change him. You both still lived in the same house. You both still shopped in Aldi. You both budgeted your weeks out, regardless of the thousands that were now racking up in various bank accounts. And Harry still stood in the street, almost every day, singing his heart out to his people. To the old lady, to the baby, to the passing workmen and teenagers. He was the same chipper guy he had been all those years ago and no fame was going to change that.

Just like now was another example of all this.

He’s just finished his 12th song of the day, “I’m Yours’ by Jason Mraz and a woman was trying to get him to take the £20 note she was offering.

“Ma’am please I can’t accept this, it’s too much.”

“Don’t be daft! You played so well and it’s made my day and so i’d like to gift you thanks.” She argued back and really Harry was in a losing battle. If he accepted it he would feel terrible that he’s allowed a woman to give him £20, but if he didn’t accept it he would look ungrateful and unaccepting.

“I appreciate your kind gesture, but it’s really too much.” He smiled kindly, hoping his good smirk would charm her off.

You were stood close by, watching the interaction. You were internally laughing to yourself, because although most people would never pass up the opportunity for money, let alone twenty quid, your Harry wasn’t most people. He was a respectful man, who loved playing music above anything else. Okay, well, he loved you only slightly more than that - but you were okay with that. You envied that he had a passion as harsh as music. It was enticing to see him get lost within 7 lettered notes.

“Chuffin’ take it Harry!” The woman dangled it in front of Harry and he laughed at her eagerness. You laughed too, until you weren’t.

It happened so quickly that you didn’t realise anything had happened until you’d felt a pain in your lower back and arse. “Shit!” You grunted as you landed on your hands, them scraping ever so slightly on the cold gravel street - that was most likely covered in Pigeon shit and chewing gum.

The woman gasped and Harry had sprinted off before you could even pick yourself back up. You looked over your shoulder, still sat on the floor, to see Harry chasing after some man who had stolen the £20 from the woman’s hand. Oh. The thief didn’t have a chance against your Harry though. He may look cute and cuddly on a good day, but when something bad happens to him or the people he loves he’s a completely different person. He gets all protective and angry. You loved that he had this side to him, but you did prefer his soft side a lot more.

“Oh dear, are you alright pet?” The woman asked, leaning over you worriedly.

“Y-yeah.” You stammered out as your turned to look at her, feeling slightly winded.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” You brought your hands up to examine and saw they were cut only slightly, but mostly just covered in gravel. You dusted your hands off on your jeans and stood up, with the help of a random man and this woman.

“Up ya get, there ya go love.” The man spoke and you thanked him briefly, turning to see whether you could see Harry at all within the crowds of the busy Manchester streets. You sighed in relief when you saw him on his way back to you, guitar swung around on his back.

The woman walked closer to him first as she caught sight of him waving the £20 in the air in victory. You had a few tears in your eyes at the sight of him being so proud of himself, but also hearing onlookers cheering for him. He might’ve got cheers from audiences, big audiences, before but nothing compared to a noble community clap. Harry embraced the friendly woman in a hug and she spoke loud enough so you could hear them both.

“Now you really deserve that £20. Keep it, please.” She begged and Harry gave a side smirk and nodded his head in agreement. He had worked for this, he thought, and he knew just what he was going to do with the money - which in turn, brought his focus back to you.

He thanked people as he weaved his way closer to you, excusing himself so politely. He lifted his notorious busking cap so he could see you better and furrowed his eyebrows in frustration when he remembered how forcefully that thief had pushed you over in order to run off. “Swear to me you’re okay.” He said, knowing you hated being made a fuss of - especially in public.

“I swear.” You smiled at him, allowing him to grasp your hands and kiss his lips all over them, not stopping until not one spot had been left untouched.

“C’mon, let’s finish early today.” He didn’t say it as a question, meaning it was a command and he was ready to leave the city streets for the day.

“Wha— why? And go where?” You stumbled over your words, watching as he started to mess around with his equipment to put it all away.

“Well i’ve got £20 to spend, but apart from that it’s your choice.” He offered, securing his guitar in his case and putting the amplifier and microphone in their cases which you’d carry back to the car - which was, unfortunately, a fifteen minute walk up a hill, but you didn’t mind because you got to do it with Harry. Your other heart.

“Hmm,” you pondered as he packed. Normally you helped but today he wouldn’t let you because of your sore hands and back, “how about we stop off at Tescos and grab a bottle of wine to drink between us, whilst we watch that new crime documentary in the comfort of our bed?” Harry stopped what he was doing to look at you indefinitely.

“This is why I love you Y/N.” He walked over to you and kissed your lips as passionately as he could. He cupped your cheeks and stroked his thumbs against your soft skin. As soon as his lips touched yours, time froze and you were all his for however long he wanted you. You felt his raw emotions bounce off him and he could no doubt feel all of yours.

It was plain and simply, love.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #busker!harry blurb #busker!harry au #harry styles busker #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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kenyizsuartblog · 3 years ago

Text

He-Man 2002 - Favorite Evil Warriors

Man, I regret dearly not making a recording of this one.

I finished the 2002 remake, and it hurts there is no more of it. I want to see the Snakemen nuked out of existence (although King Hiss eating his own head was... not something I was expecting...), hopefully Skeletor and the gang taking a part in that, and I want to see the entire series cast finally kicking Hordak's face in. And I'm talking the whole damn cast, "Everyone is Here Super Smash Brothers Ultimate" style.

But that will never happen, and it hurts.

So to numb the pain, and just unwind after this terrible week at work, I decided to draw my favorite Evil Warriors, in no particular order, because then it would be Mer-Man 5 times and that's not fair. And yes, he is still super adorable. Fight me.

"Hey, Zsu, but where's Evil-Lyn?"

Three meters under solid concrete, I sure damn hope so. I legitimately hate her. Not like, "oh I love to hate her, like with Skeletor", nah nah nah. I just hate her.

At first she was okay, even interesting when it turned out her father was some kind of weird cursed phantom magician guy. That did not go much farther unfortunately, but hey, she was still okay. After Skeletor's betrayal, I was even fine with her selling everyone out to the Snakemen... until those bastards turned Mer-Man into stone and broke him to pieces. I cannot tell you how much legitimate dread I spent the following episode in, thinking they had murked my top favorite character. I took that shit personally, you have no damn idea. Thankfully, Skeletor manages to reverse the stone curse and puts Mer-Man back together (the weight of the goddamn Himalayas fell off of my shoulders at that scene). And after that, after damn near getting eaten by King Hiss instead of being rewarded, Evil-Lyn turns around and goes "Hm, okay, so Snake Satan tried to kill me after I helped him get back on stage. BUUUUUT if I help ACTUAL SATAN come back, whom literally everybody hates, Snakemen included, he will CERTAINLY reward me and I will be his right-hand!" YUP. PERFECT. 10/10 LOGIC RIGHT THERE, WOMAN!

Dear god.

So yeah, to hell with Evil-Lyn.

Am I taking this cartoon for kids far too seriously? Yes. Absolutely. But hey, I made an entire career out of constantly falling for the most obscure background characters, and acting out the "if anything would happen to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself" meme with them. Just look at my Megaman fanarts on this site for proof.

So, bottom line. Nobody touches Precious Baby Mer-Man. The Snakeman turning him into stone (Snake Face, was it?) got permanently turned to stone, thank god, and King Hiss ate his own head. Now I only need to blow up Kobra Khan, General Rattlor and Evil-Lyn and we will be good.

I might draw Mer-Man more down the line. Apologies in advance.

2021.12.19.

#he man and the masters of the universe #he-man 2002 #favorite evil warriors #skeletor #mer-man #beast man #trap jaw #tri-klops #kenyizsu art #fanart

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

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we’re too stupid ~ the vlog squad

word count: 1885

request?: yes!

@iawaythrown “May I ask for a vlog squad x popular youtube reader

The reader has their own very popular youtube channel/podcast like a scientific/space podcast. (Like a Vsauce\GameTheory channel) The vlog squad and the reader fan base (somehow) always wants them to collab. One day David says "It won't happen because the reader probably doesn't like us." This ends up getting everyone on the podcast.”

description: when their favorite youtubers show interest in being on their podcast, they jump at the chance to invite them on

pairing: vlog squad x gender neutral!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“You know what I’ve been listening to a lot lately?” Scotty asked David on the newest vlog David had uploaded. You were watching the vlog on your TV while you prepared to upload the newest episode of your podcast. You had a drink half raised to your lips when Scott responded to his own question, “The Spaced Out podcast.”

Your drink nearly slipped from your hand at the mention of your podcast. You were sure you had imagined it, so you went back and repeated the part just to be sure. The name of your podcast slipped from Scott’s lips again and you had to pause the video to scream with excitement.

When you placed the video again, David spoke next. “Oh wait, is that the one about space and shit? You played it for me before.”

“Yeah! Man, it’s so interesting. I could honestly listen to the host talk about space all day,” Scott said.

“He keeps bringing it up during the Scottcast, too,” Jeff commented. “I’m starting to think he’d rather co-host that podcast instead of our own.”

“Man, I’d love to be on that podcast!”

You could hardly contain your excitement. Your favorite YouTubers knew who you were?! They knew your podcast?! You had to be dreaming, you were sure of it.

“There’s no way they’d ever have us on the podcast,” David was saying. “We’re too stupid and immature, they’d probably hate us.”

“Speak for yourself!” Zane, dressed in some weird costume for a bit, called, causing the boys to laugh together.

This gave you an idea. You put your laptop aside and opened Instagram on your phone. You searched the name “David Dobrik” and went to his DMs.

~~~~~~

A week later, your podcasting room was filled with 11 extra people than there normally was. The room was only small with a handful of seats, so a lot of your guests were squeezed in together or basically sat on one another. No one seemed to mind, though. Every single person in the room was super excited to be there.

“What’s up all my space geeks? Welcome back to another episode of The Spaced Out podcast, the podcast where we discuss super nerdy space things,” you started with your usual intro. “Today’s episode is a little different, though, as today I am joined by not one, not two, not even three, but eleven special guests. You heard me right, eleven. Special guests, wanna say hi?”

All eleven of your guests rang out with a chorus of, “Hello!”s at the one time, making it all come out as just a shouting mess. You laughed and waved a hand to silence them.

“In case you had trouble understanding what they were saying,” you said, “my guests today are David, Scotty, Toddy, Zane, Erin, Carly, Natalie, Heath, Mariah, Corinna, and Jeff, better known as a large chunk of YouTube’s biggest vlogging group: The Vlog Squad!”

The Vlog Squad cheered at their introduction as you just clapped your hands.

“Can I just say,” Heath said once the noise started to die down, “that I am impressed with how fast you said our names and how easy it was. You didn’t even stutter once.”

“I’ll be honest, when David told me exactly who was coming I prepared myself for this,” you admitted. “I’ve never had so many guests on the show before. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever had any guests at all. I don’t really know anyone in my real life that’s as interested in space and science as I am.”

“To be fair, none of us are, either,” Jeff joked, causing the room to laugh.

“Yeah, you picked the wrong people to be on your podcast,” Corinna added.

“You don’t have to have any sort of interest to be on the podcast, really. As long as you don’t mind me talking about my nerdy space obsession every now and then anyone is welcome on the podcast.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure everyone else could hear it. You were shocked that you were managing to remain so calm in that moment. Your favorite YouTubers were sitting right there in front of you, being guests on your podcast, and somehow you were acting as though they were just friends that you had convinced to come on the podcast.

“Is there any cool space facts you can share with us to get the ball rolling?” David asked.

“Dude, I’ve made over 300 episodes of this podcast that is literally all about space, you gotta narrow down your parameters there,” you told him.

“What’s your favorite space fact then?”

You thought for a moment, going through all the little facts you had in your mind. There was so much you could share with them that you really didn’t know where to start.

“Okay,” you said finally, “I have one. I think David will like this cause we all know he’s made of money: there is a planet that is called 55 Cancri e. It is over twice the size of Earth and it is potentially made of diamonds.”

They all gasped and made comments of astonishment at the same time at this.

“Like, literally made of diamonds?” Corinna asked.

“It’s hard to know for sure. It’s roughly 41 lightyears away so it’s not exactly easy to reach, but they think it’s made of graphite and diamonds,” you explained. “My favorite fact, and one that’s a little scary, is that it’s actually completely silent in space. Like not a single sound, because atmospheres around planets are what contain the soundwaves to make noise.”

“I told you,” David said, turning to face Scott. “We’re too stupid to be on this podcast.”

You all laughed together. “You guys aren’t stupid! I was just fascinated with space as a child and my parents let me feed into that fascination. They always bought me books about space and brought me to visit certain space centers. I was that kid that always said she was gonna grow up and be an astronaut. Instead, I just talk about them on the internet.”

Everything was going so well. You were getting to know your guests and they kept urging you to tell them facts and stories about space. You knew a lot of what you were telling them you had talked about on the podcast before, so devoted listeners probably wouldn’t be too interested in a lot of what you had to say in that episode, but you didn’t mind too much. You just loved to see the looks of astonishment on everyone’s faces as you continued to tell them fact after fact.

When you came to a segment you did in the podcast in which you would read messages from fans, you decided to your guests choose which messages to read and respond to. David took the tablet you used for this first and read through the thousands of messages you received between uploading your most recent episode and recording the current one.

“Are you going to talk about the new 4K pictures of Mars?” he read.

“Oh my God, yes!” you responded. “That will be next episode. I haven’t looked at them all yet because I wanna have a live reaction to them, but I did see one picture and it looks absolutely stunning.”

“It blew my mind how it just looked like a desert here,” Carly commented. “Mars is a lot more like Earth than we think. Sucks that we’ll never be able to live there or anything.”

“I don’t think we’ll never be able to live there, but I don’t think it’ll happen in our lifetimes,” you commented. “But that’s a whole other thing, let’s move on from that.”

“What has been your favorite space related story of the past year?” Natalie read the message she had picked.

“I don’t know if it’s my favorite, but it’s definitely one that I was very interested in reading: a star just vanished in 2020,” you responded. “Apparently that’s something that can just happen, stars can just suddenly disappear and no one knows where they went. This star from the Kinman dwarf galaxy that shined almost brighter than the sun just vanished between 2011 and 2020, and they have no explanation for it. That story stuck with me the most cause I just find it funny that a star that bright just vanished and no one can figure out where it went.”

They continued reading you messages for a while before passing your tablet back to you.

“While I wish I could sit here with you guys and talk about space and your vlogs forever, unfortunately we are running out of time,” you said. “I want to thank the Vlog Squad again for joining me on this episode, and I hope I didn’t bore you guys to death with my stories and facts.”

“Not at all!” David spoke. “I can’t speak for everyone, but I really enjoyed myself. Listening to you talk was really interesting.”

The rest of the group agreed. You tried not to blush from all their kind words.

“I always wanna thank our sponsors again. As always I appreciate them supporting my show, and of course I want you guys, the listeners. Your constant support for the show means so much to me. If you wanna hear more fun facts about space that you’ll never use in live, follow me on my social media. If you’re not already following the podcast, follow the podcast! I upload episodes every Friday, and if you want to be involved in the show be sure to send me your space related messages and maybe I’ll read them out on the next episode. Have a good weekend, little space geek out!”

You ended the recording and the group almost cheered for you. You smiled and stood to thank them again for coming on the show. You were shocked when Corinna pulled you into a hug, which caused the rest of the group to hug you one by one.

“This was the most fun I think I’ve ever had,” Erin commented. “Would you be open to having more guests on the show? I’d love to come back and to just listen to you talk for a full hour.”

The rest of the squad agreed. You really didn’t think you could feel any more excited or on cloud nine, but they kept surprising you.

“I would definitely be open to having guests again,” you replied. “If you guys ever wanna be on the show again, just send me a DM. I’d love to have you!”

“We’d love to have you on the vlogs sometime, too, if you’d be open for that,” David told you.

There they go again, making you feel like you had passed cloud nine and now were on a completely different planet with excitement.

“Y-Yeah!” you managed. “Of course, I’d love that!”

After some more small talk, you showed the group out and thanked them again for coming. Once you were sure they were gone and unable to see you, you began jumping for joy and exclaiming with excitement. You couldn’t believe it! You had just hosted a podcast with your favorite people, and they asked you to join them for filming sometime?!

“This is the best day of my life!”

#vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #jeff wittek #corinna kopf #natalie noel #todd smith #scotty sire #david dobrik #carly incontro #erin gilfoy #zane hijazi #heath hussar #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years ago

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Arkham Files: Professor Zoom the Reverse-Flash

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Eobard Thawne, also known as Professor Zoom the Reverse-Flash. Patient suffers from Antisocial Personality Disorder and displays signs of psychopathy and sadism. Session One. Good afternoon, Mr. Thawne.

Reverse-Flash: Ah! Doctor Hugo Strange! One of my favorite historical figures!

Hugo Strange: If that is a threat, Mr. Thawne, rest assured that I will not hesitate to send you to solitary confinement.

Reverse-Flash: You misunderstand me, good doctor. Where I come from, you’ve been dead for over four hundred years. We only know you through history books.

Hugo Strange: (Flatly) That is impossible, Mr. Thawne.

Reverse-Flash: Impossible? HA-HAAA! (Pause) Good doctor, didn’t you read my file?

Hugo Strange: It hasn’t arrived yet, Mr. Thawne. Apparently there was some sort of mix-up with the paperwork and your information ended up in Coast City.

Reverse-Flash: Oh, so you haven’t read my file. If I wasn’t so amused, I’d be offended. (Pause) I hail from the 25th century, Dr. Strange. More specifically, I first gained my powers in the year 2463. Have you ever been to the 25th century, Dr. Strange?

Hugo Strange: No. I haven’t. Moreover, I don’t believe that you have been there, either.

Reverse-Flash: (Continuing as though Hugo Strange didn’t say anything) I don’t recommend it. It’s a time of peace, prosperity, plenty...and tedious, never-ending boredom. (Pause) I spent most of my time reading about the heroes of the ancient days, back when there were epic confrontations between good and evil and exciting things actually happened. Your life story was absolutely fascinating, Dr. Strange...but I must confess that my favorite was always Barry Allen. What power he had! Marvelous, stupendous power! What freedom his super-speed gave him! What amazing feats he could perform! I...I idolized him. I wanted to meet him. (Pause) No, that isn’t it. I wanted to be him! With his powers, why...there was nothing that I wouldn’t be able to do!

Hugo Strange: (Frustrated) Do you really expect me to believe this drivel about you being from the future, Mr. Thawne? How much of an idiot do you think I am?

Reverse-Flash: I don’t think you really want me to answer that question, Dr. Strange. HA-HAAA!

Hugo Strange: (Flat) Very amusing, Mr. Thawne.

Reverse-Flash: I’m glad you found it as humorous as I did, Dr. Strange. Most people get unreasonably offended when I tell them that they’re imbeciles when compared to my unmatched brilliance.

Hugo Strange: (Angry) Now wait just a minute-

Reverse-Flash: (Cutting him off) However, as time went on, I grew more and more frustrated with my hero. He had all of the power in the world, and yet he wasted it on stopping petty crimes and helping meaningless peons! Eventually, I came to the conclusion that his powers were wasted on him, and I grew to hate him as much as I had once admired him. It simply wasn’t fair that a infuriating, dimwitted good-good like Barry Allen had been given the unimaginable gift of super-speed when I, who would have used the power to become the wealthiest, most influential man in the world, was denied it! Eventually, I became a criminal, and my genius led my peers to dub me the Professor. I was very good at my trade, but it still wasn’t enough for me. And then it happened! A time capsule from the 21st century was dug up, and inside was the uniform of the Flash himself! Naturally, I stole the uniform, and, using advanced 25th-century science that your primitive mind couldn’t begin to understand, I amplified the weak wavelengths from the Speed Force that the uniform still contained to give myself super speed! I immediately went on a fabulous crime spree and made myself wealthy beyond imagining. Unfortunately, before I could enjoy my new life of ease, the Flash showed up and humiliated me; defeating me due to my inexperience and throwing me in prison. I swore that I would avenge my defeat and prove once and for all that I, Eobard Thawne, was the one true Flash! In order to do this, I decided to travel back in time so that I could fight him in his own era, and that’s when I met her.

Hugo Strange: Mr. Thawne, I-

Reverse-Flash: Iris West, the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. The second I saw her, I knew she had to be mine. Unfortunately, there was a minor hiccup: namely, the fact that she was already married to that accursed Flash. When I found out, I was infuriated. Barry Allen didn’t deserve a woman like that! By rights, she belonged to me! (Pause) But that was nothing a little murder couldn’t solve. I would murder Barry Allen, take my rightful place as the Flash, and then take Iris to be my bride!

Hugo Strange: (Finally managing to cut in; loudly) And you didn’t have any concerns about this plan, Mr. Thawne?

Reverse-Flash: Of course I had concerns! Do you have any idea how hard it is to decide on the perfect wedding dress? I’ve spent years agonizing over it, and I still can’t seem to find one that’s suitable for the bride of the Reverse-Flash! And that’s not even mentioning how stressful it is to figure out what type of cake a woman from 400 years in the past would enjoy!

Hugo Strange: Let me get this straight, Mr. Thawne. You are planning to kill this woman’s husband in order to marry her, and your biggest concerns are the dress you’re going to put her in and what type of cake you want at the wedding?

Reverse-Flash: What else would I be worried about?

Hugo Strange: Her turning down your marriage proposal on the perfectly reasonable grounds that you were the one who widowed her?

Reverse-Flash: Turn down me? HA-HAAA! You really do have a wonderful sense of humor, Dr. Strange.

Hugo Strange: But on the off chance that she did, for some reason, refuse you?

Reverse-Flash: (Furious) I’d kill her! If I can’t have her, no one can! (Pause) Or I’d threaten to murder all of her friends and family members unless she changed her mind. It would depend how generous I was feeling, I suppose.

Hugo Strange: Which one is supposed to be the generous offer, exactly?

Reverse-Flash: The second one, of course. If she came to her senses and agreed to the wedding, no one would have to die. (Pause) Except Barry Allen, naturally.

Hugo Strange: But she would still be married to you.

Reverse-Flash: And?

Hugo Strange: I only met you six minutes ago, Mr. Thawne, and I can already tell that marriage to you would be a fate worse than death.

Reverse-Flash: HA-HAAA! (Pause) Really, Dr. Strange, the historical records do you a disservice by describing you as dry and humorless. You are one of the funniest men I have ever met.

Hugo Strange: Whatever you want to think, Mr. Thawne. (Pause; clears throat) I still don’t fully believe that you’re actually from the future, Mr. Thawne, but on the off chance that you are...I recently had a session with Mr. Zolomon, and while it was going on, he told me that he thought that I’m going to lose my mind soon. There’s no chance of that...is there?

Reverse-Flash: Ah, Hunter. My legacy; created 400 years before I was born. It’s backwards. It’s...in reverse. I couldn’t ask for a better successor. Or predecessor, depending on how you look at it. (Pause) As for the question...I wouldn’t ask that if I were you. Take it from someone who knows: too much knowledge of your future can be a dangerous thing.

Hugo Strange: (Insistent) It’s a simple answer, Mr. Thawne. Yes or no?

Reverse-Flash: I’m not going to answer that question, Dr. Strange. (Pause) But because I am a generous man, I’ll give you a hint: your future is going to be altered forever by a certain oversized flying rodent.

Hugo Strange: (Quietly) No….No, that can’t be. The Batman is gone. I unmasked him myself.

Reverse-Flash: Maybe you did. But the frustrating thing about those wretched superhero types is, they always come back. History’s made that quite clear. (Pause) HA-HAAA!

Hugo Strange: (Furiously) GUARDS! Take Mr. Thawne to solitary confinement-NOW!

#flash rogues #dr. hugo strange #eobard thawne #reverse-flash #professor zoom #flash comics #batman comics #fanfic

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