#like.. it all makes sense to me? i thought i was quite clear?

[gladiiator]

like an act of god

warnings/tags: 18+, dark themes, DUBCON/NONCON, woc!reader, emperor!lucius, dark!lucius, possessive behavior, forced engagement, implied forced marriage, ignoring a lot of logistics for the sake of the plot so rip, these tags are not exhaustive

wc: 5.4k

summary: An emperor’s favor is no favor at all.

believe it or not this was a writing warm up 😗 next up is hopefully childhood friends to lovers but let’s see where the plot bunnies go 🙂‍↔️

please let me know your thoughts and happy reading!!!

This is the fourth time in a mere week the emperor has called you to his chambers.

The guard looks vaguely uncomfortable as he stands outside your room. The flickering flames cast shadows underneath his helmet, making the sympathetic curl of his lip all the more severe.

Ink smudges the paper as you place down your pen. The letter to your brother will have to wait it seems.

“My lady.” The guard dips his head as he motions for you to step ahead of him.

The strained smile on your face wavers as soon as his eyes are on the back of your head. It is tough to keep your back straight as you make the short trek to the emperor’s room. Too short one can say but you keep those words tucked under the roof of your mouth.

You are a favorite of his, garnering his favor through virtue of your family or so they say. Your status allows you many liberties but these constant calls have crossed the line of propriety and rumors you may not recover from have begun to spread.

It is a fool’s wish to hope his eyes may stray but you cling to it despite his doglike loyalty.

The man of the hour sits with his back turned and a glass of wine balanced on his lips. His head twists when he hears your quiet footsteps enter his domain, softening when he catches a glimpse of you.

Your stomach twists.

You do not miss how the servants scurry out of sight and out earshot when he turns his formidable gaze towards them. You wish you could grab onto the frail wrist of the girl nearest to you. Your fingers flex as she hurriedly walks past you.

“It is late,” you say when the room is cleared.

“It is,” he agrees, a small smile on his handsome face. “Sit.”

Movements stiff, you take the seat across from him. He’s stretched out on his seat, robes rucking upwards to expose the strength hidden beneath his royal garb. Scars pucker the meat of his legs and there are faint white lines crisscrossing the skin as if depicting a linear story.

You swallow.

You have heard the tales and have determined what is far-fetched and what is truth.

And Lucius is made up almost entirely of truths.

The moment you cross your legs, he is upright and leaned over the minuscule table separating the two of you. Rather than reach for the half-full bottle of wine, he aims for the water, sharing a secretive smirk with you.

Your attempt at mirroring his playfulness is weak. A vague nausea begins to brew in your gut and you fear even water may be too heavy for you.

“Whispers will begin to spread.”

Lucius pauses. His features harden before he forcibly relaxes his face. “I do not see why that matters,” he says. His smile dims and the jug of water in his hand is quickly abandoned.

Sweat dampens your palms. You smooth them over your dress, wincing as the fabric catches on your peeled skin. A few months in Rome and you still have not adjusted to the weather.

“Lucius.”

His name is unnatural and stiff on your tongue. You long to revert back to his formal title but he refuses the honorific.

“It matters because you must marry wisely,” you say gently. “You know this. Let us not waste our breaths on the obvious.”

“Is it obvious?” he parrots back.

His voice takes on a cool tone. He’s not quite combative but you sense you must tread carefully lest his ice be thinner than it looks. But your brother was not made General because your bloodline bowed at the first sign of danger.

You tip your chin up. “It will not do for your senators to suspect you are looking inwards rather than outwards for your alliances.”

It is quiet for a moment before Lucius huffs out a laugh. He shifts his weight, balancing an elbow on his thigh to better cup his chin. Amusement lightens the blues of his eyes. “And if I am?”

You are not nearly as oblivious as your reputation suggests nor are you as great an actress as you believe yourself to be. You know when it admit defeat. There is only one way this conversation will go after all.

But this understanding does not mean you have to go quietly.

“Then I recommend Decima,” you say dryly.

He nods slowly, hiding his mouth behind his palm for a heartbeat before fixing you with a blandly curious look. “The daughter of the richest man in Rome,” he drawls. “Clever.”

He pops a grape into his mouth and chews it thoughtfully. “But not as clever as marrying the sister of my most loyal general.”

No one refuses the emperor. Try as he may to be benevolent and fair and kind, his status means there are certain words he has not been accustomed to since his rise to power.

“I suppose not,” you say finally.

Tilting your head, you fix the way your dress hangs over your legs. His eyes follow the ripple of the fabric but you pretend not to notice how he searches beyond what he can see.

“Is that why you have called me to your chambers so often? To flaunt your cleverness?” you ask, a touch sharply.

Lucius can’t help his grin. He ducks his head and it’s such a genuine display of the boyishness your brother feared his emperor lost, your stomach rolls at the sight.

“Do I not seem to enjoy your company?" he asks with faux surprise.

To your surprise, he slides down onto the ground and shuffles forward until his hands rest upon your knees. The cloth is so thin it feels as if his bare hands are against you. You suck in a breath at the warmth pooling underneath his palms.

“What are you—get up!” you hiss, casting a furtive glance behind you.

He blinks up at you innocently. “I am apologizing for misleading my betrothed. I have done a disservice if you think I call for you for the sake of a ploy.”

“And you will be doing me further disservice if you think I will believe this to mean anything.”

He moves his hands upwards until they lay upon your thighs. His fingers dimple your skin as he squeezes you. “I do not do things I do not mean,” he says firmly.

You lean down, placing your hands over his. “You want a family,” you say.

The words are shards in your mouth. It is not a simple matter of children. Lucius wants a home. The losses that haunt him have made his longing a physical thing. And your stubborn devotion lead you across an ocean you had no business crossing. What is a greater showing of love than that?

“I want you,” he corrects softly.

You almost wish he’d tell you he loves you. That would take rationality out of this equation.

But he wants you.

How do you reason with someone who knows exactly what they’re doing?

-

It was not meant to go this way.

The new ruler of Rome should have been of no personal concern of yours. He existed as a potential threat to your homeland, a story to fear, but not as a real person in your mind.

This remained true until a letter found its way to your family’s home.

It was written in your brother’s familiar scrawl and voice. He regaled to your family how he found himself across the world, omitting the worst of his ordeal, while promising his present safety.

With palpable regret, Kahlil declared himself unable to leave Rome, not while she remained under such uncertainty. The new emperor, Lucius Verus, had earned his loyalty having freed him from the clutches of the tyrannical twins and pushing him towards a path of glory.

And you knew at once what you must do.

You had to leave.

You had to feel his heartbeat underneath your hands and see that his blood was the same shade as yours. You refused to move on with your life as it was only knowing your brother existed. You would never be at peace without confirming that mortality ran through his veins.

The journey was brutal. It veered into the territory of being something you could not handle but you had no other choice than to handle it. Days stretched into weeks and weeks stretched into months but soon, you were touching down onto Roman soil.

The months at sea had been beneficial however as the language, while unfriendly to your ears, was familiar enough for you to navigate your way to the city. Hope permeated the air of the reborn city and whispers echoed the streets about a new age of peace.

Frankly, you didn’t care.

You asked around for your brother, eyebrows grazing your hairline as you learned of his newfound fame amongst the people. It took less than a week for you to scrounge around for a way to informally meet the beloved general.

It was rather anticlimactic.

There were a handful of places the general frequented with his men and none were easily accessible. Luckily, the innkeeper’s daughter took a liking to you and directed you to whose pockets were light. And so, you found yourself ducking underneath a curtain and into a plume of opioid smoke.

Your nose wrinkled at the acidic scent but paid it no mind as you searched the back room. Feigning confusion as some soldiers called to you, you darted around as each man you ran into did not resemble the one you knew.

On the cusp of marching back to the inn and declaring Caelia a liar, you found him. He was leaning over the balcony, melancholy stretching across his side profile.

His name left you as a breath, carried away by the slight breeze. But somehow, he heard you.

Kahlil lifted his head, a painful sort of resignation weighing down his shoulders, until he made eye contact with you.

In a matter of seconds, he stood before you. And he was okay.

He hugged you. His arms, muscled beyond your imagination, crushed you against his chest but it was a welcome pain, cracking your chest open and burrowing straight into the fragile meat of your heart.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he muttered against your hair. The admonishment is nonexistent, more a reflex to say rather than something from the heart. “But I am glad to see you.”

You pushed against him. He allowed you to pull back just enough so you could look up at him, vision blurred from your tears.

He was nothing like you remembered and you mourned this. Scars decorated his skin and callouses roughened his hands. But it was him.

His smile was still slightly awkward and the shape of his brows framed his eyes as perfectly as they always did. The kindness you feared was taken from him in his years of fighting remained in the crinkles of his eyes and the softness of his features.

“I missed you,” you said, voice catching in your throat. A fresh set of tears burned at your waterline. “I am so sorry we could not find you.”

His expression crumpled and Kahlil shook his head. “There is no one to blame but those who took me,” he said firmly.

You shut your eyes, swallowing down the sob that threatened to break free at his forgiveness.

He wiped the stray tears dripping from your face, laughing as if he did not look as foolish as you did. “You are still a crybaby.”

You laughed, more a hiccup than anything.

Kahlil was kept from saying more when someone uttered his name from behind.

“Highness,” Kahlil said, standing tall.

He wiped your remaining tears and his own before turning the both of you towards the voice.

A handsome man stood in front of you. His hair was dark and his beard thick. His arms were corded with muscle, similar to your brother’s, but there was a predator type of strength lurking underneath the surface in which Kahlil lacked.

The title registered in your mind as you stared and with an embarrassed look towards Kahlil, you dropped your head in deference.

The man quickly dismissed the formality and motioned for you to lift your head.

“I am Lucius,” he introduced. His gaze flicked to your brother in question.

You gave him your name, voice raw from your tears. He asked you to repeat it and you did so, watching as he rounded his mouth over the syllables.

“My sister,” Kahlil interjected. “The one who thinks no consequence too severe to keep her from making reckless decisions.”

At this, he pinched your ear lobe.

“You talked about me?” you asked, blinking up at him. So many years had passed. It was a wonder he remembered any stories of you to tell.

“Yes,” Lucius said, drawing your attention back to him. He stared at you, an unreadable look in his too blue eyes. “Quite favorably too.”

He took in the circles staining your under eyes and how you clutched at your brother as if he were an apparition brought to life. Your hand ached with how tightly you held the fabric of Kahlil’s clothes between your fingers but you could not make yourself relax. You worried you would wake and find yourself back on the boat and under the throes of that fever once more if you let go.

“You traveled far.”

The observation managed to sound impressive off of Lucius’ tongue as if he found you admirable. It made you squirm.

Memories of the journey flashed through your mind, bringing forth echoes of the anxiety you suffered for months on end. But you shrugged as if it was easy. Because in a way, it was.

Kahlil was at the end of the journey. There was no easier path to take.

“And I would have gone further had it been necessary,” you said. “Luckily, it was not. I might have thrown up my stomach if I was stuck on that ship any longer.”

Kahlil made a face. “The waves are a punishment,” he said sympathetically.

“You must be tired,” Lucius said. He had not taken his eyes off of you. “Come.”

And that was how it began.

You had a few uninterrupted weeks with your brother before he departed in search of allies for Rome. Kahlil promised you a home wherever he was and Lucius was all too happy to uphold such a promise.

Your quarters were moved to be closer to Lucius’ in Kahlil’s absence. It did not take long before you replaced time spent with him with Lucius.

In the instances you were alone with him, you forgot he was the emperor. His smile was infectious and he had a clever wit about him that kept you on your toes. The stories sprung from his lips kept you enthralled and you found yourself prolonging these moments with him.

Charisma was a necessity for leaders and Lucius had it in abundance.

Slowly, he began encroaching into your space. A hand on your lower back, a brush his fingers against your waist, lingering hugs that involved him burying his face in the hollows of your throat.

He was too close too often.

People began to take notice and sly comments were whispered under breath.

Once the rumors circulated close enough for you to hear, you began to pull back. You ignored the informal requests to see him and found reasons to decline the formal requests to his chambers.

Lucius did not take well to your sudden reticence and the rumors worsened as his demand for you grew.

If you knew being friendly with Lucius would lead to this, you would have made your room a jail in Kahlil’s absence instead.

-

Lucius becomes bold in the days after your engagement is announced.

He pens a letter to your brother of the news. You sign it without reading it. Lucius purses his lips but sends the letter without much complaint.

You write your own letter, minimally mentioning the engagement, and praying Kahlil reads in between the lines and slows his journey back. As your father resided an ocean away, your brother will have to make do and you fear his loyalty for Lucius will override his love for you.

Congratulations are heartfelt and plentiful from the people and ring insincere from the upper echelon. But the pushback is minimal and so, Lucius gleefully goes forward with the wedding planning.

It will be a grand affair, one you know he does not care for in the slightest. If it not for the fact that it would be the greatest showing of ownership, you believe Lucius would have dragged you in front of seven witnesses to declare the union.

The first time he presses a kiss against your temple in front of the most gossipy of his senate, you nearly buck your head back into his nose. His hand rests against your side and he murmurs something against your skin, sealing whatever it is he has said with a gentle kiss.

The sound of your blood rushing is all that fills your ears so you do not know if Lucius requested something of you. It does not matter.

He has made his point.

His affection worsens after that.

The engagement permits him to seek you out as he wishes. His men roll their eyes lightheartedly when he stops what he’s saying to call you over during training. He is quick to leave meetings or lunches if he senses they have turned into leisure rather than productive discussion to make his way back to your quarters now that you rebuff his.

No matter where you are, he finds you.

In the rare moments you are left to your own devices, you find yourself with no friends nor hobbies to keep you occupied.

You notice men do not raise their heads when they see you. Any conversation you try to hold with one ends with excuses as to why they suddenly find themselves too busy to speak to you.

A guard follows you around the clock. You manage to wrangle his name out of him—Scipio—but it is for nothing as a fortnight later, you do not see him again. From then, you have a new guard every day.

The women, few and far between in the palace, are sweet. But it is clear whatever comes out of your mouth goes directly to Lucius’ ear. So you busy yourself with fictional hopes of your future and dabble in petty gossip when you find yourself in their presence.

It is suffocating.

“There you are.”

The corner of the garden you’ve taken a liking to darkens as Lucius blocks the sunlight seeping in through a window.

He’s angelic under the golden cast of the sun. A man more than worthy of his position.

“Ah, Highness,” you greet, offering him a nod.

There is a pinch between his brows.

“We are to be married,” he reminds you, crouching down. He runs a gentle hand through the flowers you are observing. “You are my equal.”

“But we are not husband and wife quite yet, Highness.”

His hand leaves the flowers to cup your cheek. He turns you to face him, thumb brushing against the softness of your lips. Unconsciously, you swipe your tongue over the trail of warmth left behind. A slightly salty taste permeates your mouth.

“You are my equal,” he repeats. “And I expect you to treat me as such.”

The skin around his eyes is dark. Exhaustion makes him look pallid. Your avoidance is the last thing he wishes to deal with, this you are sure, and it tugs at your heart to see him so tired.

“You should go to bed,” you say.

“Will you join me?” he asks.

You jerk back. His hands falls off your cheek.

Lucius laughs at the stunned look on your face. He moves closer into your space, looking down at you.

“You are annoying,” you say hotly. “And I am busy. Obviously.”

He hums. “With thinking of ways to delay our wedding, yes?”

“Please. I have better uses of my time.”

Besides, he has made it nigh impossible to find a loophole. An emperor’s word is law and he has used his to shackle you to him.

“So you do not conspire to find a way to break our engagement?” he surmises mildly.

A fissure of fear opens within you. Hadrian had promised you discretion but clearly, a bit of luck is needed to escape the ever watchful eye of Lucius. But you have not been informed of any ports closures and so, you choose to hold your cards tightly to your chest.

You twist a petal between your fingers. “How can I conspire when all I know are these walls,” you motion towards said walls, “And the people you install in my circle.”

He watches you for a too long moment, scrutinizing the unnatural stillness of your expression. “The sense you hope your brother will impart on me will not change anything,” he says eventually.

It takes considerable effort for you to not show any sort of relief at his warning. The more pleading your letters became, the more Lucius clung to your side so you had eased up in the past few weeks. It does not come as a surprise he is actively reading whatever it is you write.

“Is he a confidant in name only, then?” you retort.

“He loves me,” Lucius says instead. He’s softened, bearing the weight of a man who knows it takes only a word for blood to be spilled in his name and for it to be spilled gladly. “But he loves you more.”

Pursing his lips, he fingers a stem. He doesn’t flinch when a thorn splits his skin. A droplet of blood runs from his finger and drips into the soil.

“But he loves Rome more?” you guess, peeking at him from under your lashes.

He watches the blood continue to spill into the soil. Just when you think he won’t answer you, to give weight to the truth you fear more than anything, he says, “Kahlil thinks I am a good man.”

And that is a sentencing all on its own, you suppose.

-

The bath water practically scalds your skin as you sink into the tub.

It is refreshing in a way. The slight sting keeps your thoughts from straying.

Kahlil’s recent letter leaves you with no choice but to hasten your escape. Any ship will do for you need to leave before the week’s end if Kahlil’s timeline is to be trusted.

You allow yourself a few more minutes in the bath, a few more minutes to act as if you are as any other, before you drain the tub and dry off.

You exit the bathroom, towel tucked loosely around yourself. Smoothing the left over oil onto your lips, you pause when you notice a shape out of the corner of your eye.

Lucius lays atop your sheets.

A strangled scream leaves your throat and you’re throwing a candle at him before you recognize it is him in your bed and not some stranger come to make true of your worst nightmares. Though, this is not a much better sight.

He catches the candle with one hand and deposits it on the floor, eyes wide in bemusement.

You hitch the towel higher, fisted fabric at your throat as you take him in. He’s stretched out lazily, hair wet and skin shiny with cream. The sheet covers his lower half and you force your eyes to rip away from the dark trail of hair on his lower abdomen. For all intents and purposes, he looks ready for bed.

“I brought you a gift,” he says, sitting up. He gestures to the box on top of your vanity. “Come here. Let’s look at it together.”

While said lightly, this is clearly an order.

You stand, shifting your weight. You are hyper aware of how naked you are underneath this flimsy towel. “I need to change, Highness.”

Annoyance flickers across his face. “Come here.”

Shuffling to your vanity, you heft the box as best you can with one arm and make your way to Lucius. The second you are within arm’s reach, he shoots out his hand and wraps it around you. He drags you forward and forces you to sit nestled between his thighs.

His cock is a heavy weight at the base of your spine.

You immediately straighten up and try to scoot forward but he doesn’t allow for this. He settles the box on your legs and brackets you with his arms.

“Open it,” he murmurs against your ear, resting his chin atop your shoulder.

Your fingers shake as you pry open the lid. All you can focus on is how the room feels as if it ends and begins with Lucius.

When you get the box open, you don’t know what you are looking at. And then Lucius pushes a finger against the object until a set of familiar brown eyes stare back at you, unfeeling and condemning all at once.

You shove the box away from you, turning into Lucius before you can see Hadrian’s head roll onto the floor.

He allows the change in position, letting your weight guide him back down to the bed before he hooks an arm around you and reverses your position. The towel slips and he follows the line of your throat and downwards.

He brings his hand down to push away the towel pooling at your hips. Instinctively, you grab at his wrist, tears beginning to line your eyes.

Lucius stills.

“Did you think I would let you leave?” he wonders.

He sounds genuinely confused and somehow, that little slip of sincerity allows a frigid wave of fear to crash over you. Rationally, you know your skin to still be warm to the touch but you shiver, ice replacing the blood flowing in you.

“I thought you would find me more work than I am worth,” you say quietly. Your heart strains against your rib cage.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Did you now?”

He easily breaks free of your hold and you can do nothing as he makes quick work of your towel. Lucius slowly runs his thumb along the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth.

“Lucius.” His name is torn from your throat, a plea wrapped up in a warning. “*Don’t*. We are not married yet.”

He laughs, dropping his head down until his forehead lies flat against your collarbone. His breath is hot against you, sending the chill inwards.

"But we will be,” Lucius promises easily. “And I will wait no longer.”

He’s kissing you before you can make an attempt at delaying what is seemingly the inevitable.

His lips are hard against yours, impatiently slipping his tongue into your mouth and finding purchase against your teeth. Lucius is uncharacteristically sloppy, betraying the desperation he’s kept so carefully hidden.

You put your hands against his chest and curl them into fists when pushing only results in him tightening his hold on you.

Recalling what the other women said about their first time, you push down your fear until it settles underneath the acceptance you forcibly yank over yourself like a veneer.

His fingers caress your soft, bare skin as he trails his hands up your thigh. The coarseness of his chest hair against your overly sensitive skin sends static skittering across your nerves.

You stifle a whine when he pulls away from you just enough to let you pant against his mouth. Your stomach gives a sickening lurch when there’s pressure between your bodies, a dull ache at the apex of your thighs.

He slips his finger into you inch by inch and tears wet your cheeks when he adds a second one. Experimentally, he stretches you out until you’re left with no choice but to let your legs fall open, inviting him in.

The longer he presses into you, the more you feel yourself relax, noting your loosening muscles as if happening from an outsider’s perspective. Wetness drips down his wrist, pooling in the crease of his elbow and he grins, eyes pointedly going down. You refuse to follow him.

“Not as shy as you like to come off, hm?” he murmurs, circling his thumb over you and drawing out a high pitched moan.

You bite your lip immediately, a harsh breath ricocheting in your chest. You try to stamp down the pleasure beginning to curl into a coil in your belly. It tightens when he digs his teeth into your fluttering pulse.

It is when you are on the brink of *something* that he eases up, slipping his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. You almost clamp down on his hand when he pulls out but resist the urge by the skin of your teeth.

You shift, drawing your legs closer in the hopes of chasing that mounting high he’s taken from you. A dizzying sort of heat has set your blood aflame, akin to a fever.

You must be sick, you decide. It must be a sickness that has not yet been discovered that plagues you and leaves you feeling empty where Lucius does not touch you.

He cants his hips up, lining himself up. Your eyes widen when you feel him prod your entrance. The sheer size of him terrifies you because it won’t matter if he doesn’t fit as you hysterically believe he won’t.

He’ll find a way.

“Lucius, wait,” you hiccup, swallowing down the anxiety thrumming alongside your arousal.

He grinds himself between your thighs, slicking himself with you. He doesn’t bother acknowledging your mindless babble and instead, licks away a wayward tear on your cheek.

Lucius sinks in an inch, your name a wrecked sound. He sounds different from what you’re used to, strained and roughened around the edges.

“Please kiss me,” you beg, curling a hand around the base of his neck. His curls are wet, the space between them almost humid from the heat emanating from him.

His hips stutter and he braces himself against the mattress.

“Kiss you?” Lucius repeats hoarsely, peering down at you with his pupils blown wide with a haunting desire.

You nod weakly, urging his face closer. The stretch of him burns and while not entirely unpleasant, it makes your heart quicken and your belly flutter.

He sinks in deeper and catches your gasp in his mouth. You part your lips instantly as he bears down on you, pushing deeper and deeper until he’s seated inside you. Numbly, you wonder if you’ll ever be whole again, if Lucius has carved out a space in you only he can fill.

Lucius lets you adjust to him, running a soothing hand underneath your chest. He traces circles around your nipple and it’s a searing heat that takes the edge off.

He kisses you gently. It’s almost too sweet to bear but you respond in earnest, angling your hips upwards to give the okay. The discomfort has loosened into something you handle and the knot noosed around your heart untangles to leave a bloodied heap in its wake.

He thrusts into you as if to test your resolve. You whimper as pleasure seeps into your core. You break away from his greedy mouth and soothe yourself with pressing kisses against his strong jaw. You nip at the bone as you catch your literal and metaphorical breath. It’s hard to tell if it’s the lack of air or Lucius himself making you lightheaded.

The thread of restraint he’s meticulously maintained snaps at the strung out noise. Lucius fucks you hard and deep, perhaps a little deeper than intended if the guttural noise that leaves him is any indication.

The pleasure in your belly ratchets up and a strangled moan is gutted from you when his cock brushes against some part of you that sends sparks right up your spine.

Immediately, he’s thrusting into that spot over and over again and doesn’t stop until he stiffens with a groan.

He spills into you, cock twitching as you milk him for what he’s worth.

Your name is on the tip of his tongue and branded across his heart.

Lucius chants it, peppering kisses all over your face as he collapses carefully on top of you. Fatigue wears at you and you close your eyes, hating yourself for finding comfort in how he immediately presses a kiss against your swollen eyelids.

“I love you,” Lucius whispers.

It is the worst thing you have ever heard.

this fic is finished. there will never be a part 2. thanks!

[purinfelix]

from your last post could i request pedri? from “about you” by the 1975 where perhaps reader and pedri had a past relationship all throughout high school and when pedri left for barcelona they lost contact / broke up but years later they reunite somehow? When they do it’s like a “i thought you’d forget about me by now” to “how could i forget about you?” maybe angst to fluff! sorry that was so long … i hope it made sense lol <33

did you think i'd have forgotten? ✶⋆.˚ - pedri gonzalez

w/c: 600 a/n: this is one of my fav songs of all time so tysm for this (and for giving a specific request HAHA) i got quite a few for this song but i liked this idea the most and thought it fit the best - hope u enjoy anon !! <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

He still looked exactly the same.

Or at least, from what you could make as your train sped past where he was standing on the platform - though you were pretty sure you could still faintly his features, that dark black hair, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he laughed.

It was all exactly the same.

And maybe it was the realisation, that feeling of noticing someone familiar in a place like this - or something deeper within you that you dared not to question - that pushed you to speed off the train at the last minute when this wasn't even your stop. Maybe it was this that made you walk, then jog, then sprint towards what you recognised as his figure in the distance.

But it was also the reminder of what happened between you two, all those years ago, that brought your sprint to a screeching halt. And what would be the chances of you running into your ex-boyfriend here, at a random station, far away from your hometown or the country he had left you to move to? How could you face him, after all that?

"Y/N, is that you?" Too late.

"Pedri?" you called out, your tone confused even though you had made up your mind about it being him long before he had.

"Woah, hi, what are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing," you laugh, a little awkwardly.

"I'm here for a match, we're playing a local team."

"Oh, right," you smile, of course, "I study here."

There's a slight pause, in which you can see Pedri's expression turn into one of surprise. "I didn't know that."

"I mean, why would you?" You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but it's too late since his face is already donning an apologetic look.

"Right, sorry," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at the floor. "What are you studying?" he says after a while of silence.

"Nursing," you say matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you'll be great at that," he says, offering a warm smile.

It's clear he's eager to make this exchange as normal as possible, and you'd probably be obliged to let him. But it's hard to be normal given what happened between the two of you, when this is the first time you've spoken to him in years.

"It's nice to see you," he says after another moment of silence.

"Same for you," you laugh shyly trying to avoid eye contact, "I figured you'd forgotten about me by now."

"How could I forget about you?" When you look into his eyes again, you're taken aback by how well his expression reflects his words - his brows tilted slightly up in the inner corners, a tender confusion at the fact that you'd think he'd dare to forget about you.

"Well, you know with how famous you are and everything, I see how they chant your names when you play," you begin to ramble, eager to explain yourself.

"Well, I'd hardly consider myself fam- wait, you watch my games?"

"Well, yeah," you sigh shyly, feeling your cheeks glow pink at the sight of his smirk. The two of you stand there, looking at each other for a while, exchanging sly glances - and it feels, just for a moment, like you're the same high schoolers who were in a puppy-love relationship.

"Are you doing anything now?" he asks you.

"Well, I was on my way to class but I'm probably late for that now."

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I want you to show me what's good around here," he smiles, "oh, and catch me up on how you're doing."

You feel your cheeks begin to ache from how wide you're smiling.

"I'd like that," you nod, "I'd like that a lot."

[mothiir]

the war hawk

because i need to write some more jagahatai. no cw for this one!

”Stand,” says the Great Khan from his throne, lounging like a true conqueror, safe in the knowledge of his victory. His gur is gigantic, larger than the cathedrals of your city home, and permits a great gathering of people — some his strange white-armoured sons, but mostly humans. They array in a circle around you, with no clear demarcation of rank, and none of the finery that the noble families of your home would display in such a gathering. You get the sense that they are all of one kin, a bond forged in the crucible of war. Perhaps if your own family had set aside its internecine struggles —

No. You cannot think like that. They didn’t. They lost. That is all there is.

You stand with the help of one of your attendants, schooling your face into careful, decorous blankness. You will not dishonour your family by weeping. Women of your family have married for politics for generations — yes, it has been centuries since any of your foremothers were offered up to a warlord in exchange for peace, but it is not your place to bemoan your fate. No: you must be thankful. You must wring gratitude from this misery, because no man found under the stars — or among them — will be charmed by a dour, shivering wretch.

“Yes, my Lord Khan,” you say. “Forgive me — I do not speak your tongue —“

“That is no matter,” he says. “I speak the language of this system well enough.”

Your maid gives you a swift, curious look, which you deliberately ignore — though you share her thoughts. The stories you both heard spoke of barbarian sheep-herders that tore books apart in anger because they could not read them.

“You honour our meagre home with your presence, my Lord,” you say, swooping into another curtsy. The clothing you wear is gorgeous, but highly impractical: a chain mail dress, ornamented with gemstones; a headdress anchored in place with hairpins that bite at your scalp. You wear the tribute, and you are the tribute. Gold, sapphires, precious metals, precious fuels — and livestock. The finest horses, cattle, sheep and poultry that your homeland has.

And you, of course. You who feel that you have more in common with the broodmares and fattened lambs in your entourage than with the crown on your head.

The Great Khan acknowledges your flattery only with the slight incline of his head. His throne is draped in so many furs you cannot see the original shape of it. It looks comfortable. To his left sits three of his sons, clad in their armour, but helmetless. To his right is an elderly man, a hood pulled over his head, so his face is shadowed. An advisor, maybe?

“Your father did not say this when he first met our envoys. We interpreted his broadcast. Sheepfuckers and misfits, he called us,” he says, idly, and your stomach drops into your feet. Instinctively, you pull your handmaids closer to you, grasping their chilly hands with yours.

“My father —“

“And in this letter he sent you with,” the Khan says, unfolding the parchment. It seems tiny in his gigantic hands. “He says that he is but — ‘a worm in the garden of my resplendence’ — he has quite the way with words, does he not? And such a change of heart! A modest man, to say he is but a worm in the garden of a sheepfucker.”

A few of his sons chortle; someone jeers. Your cheeks flame, and you lick your lips before replying.

“My father’s words were misspoken and arrogant.”

“Indeed. And he has learned the error of his ways. As long as he pays his tithes, he and his people will be treated as valued members of the Imperium — and under the protection of the Emperor of Mankind.”

The Great Khan turns back to the parchment, and makes a show of reading further.

“He has some words for you too.”

You swallow thickly. Your mother had been all careful posed dignity when she sent you away; your father had embraced you and wept. His first child; his first girl. His eldest. Sacrificing so much for the sake of her people —

“‘—though she is no great beauty, and is altogether too clever, she is swift to learn, and her mother bore eight children, four of whom were boys, so it is likely that she will likewise be fertile,’” the Khan reads, and something inside you freezes. There are no chuckles now — even if there had been, you would not have heard them over the strange high ringing in your ears. Your fingernails dig into the back of your handmaid’s hand, leaving bloody red crescents; she does not seem to notice; or if she does notice, she does not care. “And if she is not to your liking then rest assured she has sisters, who are fairer and younger and —“

“Don’t you dare!” you shout, without thinking, without considering and — oh by the gods what have you done? And then you remember that these strange men from the stars burn churches and despise worship, and so calling on the gods just makes things worse — and you freeze, heart rabbiting, eyes wide. “I mean, my lord, please — the next-oldest of my sisters is sixteen summers —“

You were born to be a politician — bred to be one — and yet all of your training has been for nothing, for in that moment you are not a diplomat but a sister, white-hot fury pulsing behind your eyes. If you had talons, you’d rip your fathers face from his skull; if you had wings, you’d pull your sisters and handmaids under their span, tuck them safe and secure and hidden. But you have neither: only a clumsy tongue, and rage that stoppers your throat, and grief great enough to drown in. And all the while the Khan watches you, impassive as a hawk; a great predator, with no concern for the mewling of women —

“Jaghatai,” says the cloaked figure to his right, pulling her hood back. “You’re scaring the girl.”

What you had assumed to be a withered old man is in fact a withered old woman, with nut-brown skin, heavy black hair, and bright eyes glittering in folds of corrugated flesh.

“I am — ah,” says the Great Khan, and then his face relaxes minutely. He smiles — though the gesture does nothing to calm you, directed as it is at the woman. “Apologies.”

“Don’t apologise to me, Khan — apologise to your poor bride! Soldiers! Really!”

She stretches like a cat, her joints clicking, and stands. Three of the astartes hasten to help her down the dais, but she waves them away.

“I can manage just fine on my own, boys,” she says, and hobbles her way down to you. She’s barely up to your shoulder, hunched over with age; her clothes are of fine quality, but thoroughly worn. “Honestly.”

“My lady Hoelun — “ one of the men says, but she points her stick at him.

“Tsubodai, I knew you when you were stumbling around after your father’s goats — when I need your help, I shall ask for it. All of you! Useless!”

Instinctively, you curtesy to her. She chuckles, and catches your chin with one gnarled hand.

“Let’s have a look. All your own teeth, no mutations,” she says, tipping your face this way and that. “Clever, that letter said, and I’ll believe that — every woman we’ve met in this system can read and write, which is a blessing, believe me. Half of my grandsons are still learning. They like their bikes and their ponies, what do they need letters for?”

She pinches your cheek.

“Smart, because you knew how to greet the Great Khan. And reckless brave, because you shouted at him. And —“ She looks down at your hands, which still clutch at your whimpering maids. Her gummy smile widens. “And decent too.”

She turns back to the Great Khan.

“You’ll marry this one, Jaghatai. I’ll make the arrangements for the ceremony in two moons time. Until then, we’ll follow tradition.”

The Great Khan does not seem at all surprised at the display. His smile has deepened, and for the first time he looks more like a man than a hunting bird.

“Very well, Mother,” he says. “If you approve — my lady, you will be granted your own household, and a gur large enough to hold them. You may bring women to attend you from your home planet if you wish — or if you prefer, I can name some from within my own family. A hundred head of horse are yours as of today; for each week until our wedding another hundred shall be added to your herd. You will learn our language and our customs, and you will sit in on my council with my mother —“

“My lord — I am no warrior,” you say, and he holds up a hand to silence you.

“No. But I am no politician. An empire can be conquered from the saddle of a horse, but not ruled from one. You will attend council with my mother and learn from her, so that when we are wed you may pick up the governance of this sector in my absence.”

“But — my father is the governor,” you say, brow furrowed, still feeling like you are stumbling to catch up. Hoelun chuckles.

“For now. But who trusts a man who puffs up his chest only to crawl in the dirt with nary an arrow fired?”

The implication of her words should horrify you. You think of your sisters, and you feel only a hesitant, fragile kindling of hope. Hoelun gives your cheek another affectionate — if slightly painful — squeeze.

“Welcome home,” she says.

[dunmeshistash]

Greetings, Mr. Meshi!

This is perhaps a bit of an unorthodox question, but one that has been bothering me for an unreasonable amount of time.

Now, here's the thing: I OBSESS over Marcille outliving everyone she holds dear. It's a theme very close to me, but even beyond that I just find it to be one of the most interesting elements of Dungeon Meshi's story for me personally. I've written an embarrassing amount of lengthy essays on it that will never see the light of day - that's how obsessed I am over this specific element of her character. But, there's something that bothers me...

A lot of poignant stories and artworks that tackle this topic get comments on 'em whenever Falin is the subject of aging, each one some variation of "Everything points to Falin having an extended lifespan after her revival!" which... Seems weird to me?

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but setting aside my personal annoyances, I don't remember anything pointing to this at all. At least, nothing concrete.

I don't know if this is a question you'd want to answer or not, but since your blog is a hub for all sorts of opinions and headcanons, I'd love to know where this line of thought could originate from.

I really wouldn't blame you if you didn't answer this question, though. Part of me feels I'm just asking this because I want to see if others share in my confusion or not.

Rrrregardless, though! Lemme take the opportunity to say that your blog is delighful. Love it! Also, that mushroom man with the funny face that sometimes responds to you with lengthy essays is also really cool. Everyone is cool. At least here on the northern hemisphere! It is smack dab in the middle of fall, after all! Coolness all around! Stay frosty! Or don't! Maybe warm up at a fireplace. I don't know!

Hi there! Thank you for the kind words, I love reading other's opinions on what I post so I also love the additions by the mushroom <3

It's quite hot over here in northeast Brazil, send some coolness my way please I'm dying.

Your question isn't strange at all! And I don't mind answering anything (unless it's rude or sounds like shipping war bait) so don't worry.

(Decided to put the rest under a readmore, TLDR: Kui said "maybe so, right?" about Falin having a longer lifespan but I have arguments why I don't think this actually confirms it. Anyway if you're someone who likes the headcanon you might want to skip this post)

To be honest those type of comments bother me too because I also LOVE Marcille's struggle with mortality and sometimes "Falin will live much longer!" feels undermining of the lesson she had to learn. I don't mind it in the headcanon sphere where everything is allowed and happy endings grow on trees but when it becomes intertwined with canon it starts to make me a little disappointed.

Just a reminder of the lesson she has to learn

She has to come to terms with the cycle of life and death, that something she wants (everyone to live longer) shouldn't be forced upon others just because it causes her grief. So, to me at least, Falin being made into something that will end up outliving other tallmen would undermine the message? In a canon sense ofc, if you're writing a wish fulfillment story then her living longer would have a different meaning, I just wanna be clear I have nothing against it in that sense, it all depends on what story you're trying to tell.

Anyway, actually answering your question that idea comes from the fact she was fused to a Red Dragon, and the fact her body has been affected by it, her sight was fixed and she grows feathers for example, so people theorize maybe her lifespan has been affected too. But we don't really know how long dragon's live so it's hard to say how much it would have been affected if at all.

It also comes from this answer Kui gave in a QnA

Q: Would Falin have an extended lifespan after the whole chimera thing? A: Maybe so, right?

To me this reads as the usual non-answers Kui gives, like, "I'll leave it up to your imagination" but for other people this read as a confirmation of the headcanon, in another questions she answers "I hope so" about Thistle leading a happy life after having his desires eaten and it's even debatable if Thistle survived at all so I don't think those comments indicate much of canon (I'm that way about most QnA answers tbh, unless it's something inconsequential like confirming Mithrun's Brother's name or stuff about very minor characters)

Another argument I have against her having a different lifespan is Izutsumi, Izu has been mixed with a monster but continues to age at the same rate a Tallmen would, even tho she also has different biology because of the Great Cat she's fused with (ears, reflexes, eyes etc etc) she is still a tallman

Falin isn't really the same thing as Izutsumi tho, I understand, but it's the closest example we have, if we believe the AB descriptions and demi-humans are really mixes between humans and monsters that's also another argument about it not affecting lifespan, since all of them are short lived and have an average lifespan of 55.

All of this *can* be dissmissed tho, the other demi-humans and beastmen are all mixed with mammal monsters and nothing nearly as powerful as a Dragon, so there is arguments to be made that Falin is different and that she *might* have an extended lifespan, all I'm saying is that there's no solid confirmation of it, it's fine to believe it but going around "correcting" other people saying it's a fact wouldn't be right I don't think, especially if you're saying that in a conversation about Marcille journey of death acceptance.

Death is a touchy subject and everyone is at different stages of their own journeys with it so I really don't want to judge those who would rather have Falin or even Laios live longer. I'm not really sure how to talk about this in the proper way, but I hope I didn't make anyone upset!

[taylorklosscomeout138]

Where does swiftgron fit in your timeline? I thought kaylor was from 2012-13

I used to believe all love songs on Red had to be about Swiftgron because based on the Kaylor officially met in 2013 false narrative, it was impossible for songs to be about Karlie

But then I discovered the video where Taylor confirms she met Karlie at the 2008 Young Hollywood Awards so pretty much they lied about the entire tl to cover their tracks

(This is going to be a long wild ride but it's worth the read so please bare with me)

That led me to discover the 10000% proof that Begin Again is about Karlie because her full name and birth year is hidden on a car license plate in the MV. (That also led to me finding out many Red songs are about Karlie)

Taylor started officially dating Karlie in 2011, Kaylor began before Swiftgron. But by Summer of 2012 Kaylor and Swiftgron overlap. And thus we get the Folklore love triangle. "Chase 2 girls lose the 1" and she swears to Betty it was "just a summer thing"

(Which I need to fact check this for clarity, Betty August Rebekah are all Karlie. August is not a seperate person that was a bait and switch. Dianna Agron is Inez. The person Betty heard the rumours that James cheated from... how did Inez know if it was a secret? Because she was the other party in the affair. Inez derives from the Latin name AGnes)

Okay so back to "just a summer thing", well the actual confirmed Swiftgron timeline literally is called "The Swiftgron Summer" of 2012. So this makes it very obvious that the "summer thing" is when she started seeing Dianna despite being with Karlie. It is explained in Folklore that this ended their relationship initially

So now the timeline makes sm sense when you know How You Get The Girl was written about Taylor losing Karlie for 6 months due to this. And showing up to her doorstep to make it up to her after officially leaving Dianna in the Fall.

The 6 months would span the beginning of Summer, to November of 2012. I believe this is also why Red TV was released in Nov 2021. It is quite literally the same date, just rearranged.

So let's reflect back, because if Swiftgron really was only official in Summer of 2012 (which is also made apparent by Dianna and Lea Michele's timeline) and Red came out in Oct of 2012, then makes it impossible that Red songs could actually be about Dianna Agron besides the potential of a couple last minute love songs, but even then, albums are turned in months prior to the release.

Therefore, Red is likely only Liz Huett and Karlie Kloss. I was not apart of the fandom during Swiftgron, I joined way later, so I honestly do not understand how anyone ever concluded Red is about Swiftgron and didn't question that when even the masterpost makes it clear Swiftgron was mainly just a summer thing in 2012 and Dianna was with Lea Michele still in 2011. I can understand thinking Red was about her though based on just not having any other fitting muse due to the lie narrative about Kaylor.

But my friend even fact checked the one lyric on Red everyone thought to 100% be about Dianna from Holy Ground "I left a note on the door with a joke we made"

But the evidence comes from Dianna's birthday party at the end of April 2012. Whereas Taylor factually wrote Holy Ground in Feb 2012, 2 months prior to that.... which I also have no idea how that never got fact checked and was ran with.

I even believed it up until my friend told me about it a few weeks ago but that's because I've never looked into facts about the Swiftgron timeline much until finding out that the entire timeline as we knew it was a false public narrative timeline used to cover up Kaylor history of the past. So needless to say.... very shocking. And it changes everything

This basically means that Swiftgron doesn't even officially get a song until 1989- and even then it's half Karlie half Dianna as confirmed by Kimby Kloss in her messy era when she liked a post of someone saying YAIL is the Kaylor anthem and Wonderland is the Swiftgron anthem.

So there you have it. Honestly this isn't even beginning to scratch the surface because there is so many things about the timeline that have been misunderstood for so long.

Including that Enchanted off of Speak Now was the first ever song written about Karlie. It was just a fantasy song at the time, but the reason we all believed it to be about Emma Stone was because that's what she was going for. Why? Because when Taylor met Karlie for the first time in 2008 it was at the same time she met Emma Stone. The guy who introduced them said he brought Karlie and Emma over her to her at the same time. Hence why on Speak Now TV she coded Karlie as Emma with "When Emma Falls In Love".

I can definitely get into the breakdown of Red as to what songs are about Liz Huett and what songs are about Karlie if that's something you or anyone else would like! Me and my discord have already reassessed the whole album through this lens awhile ago

[scar-lie]

Crazy Love Pt. 2 {Natasha}

Summary : Natasha finally said the unspoken truth

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warning : Torture, blood, screaming, death, suicide

Word count : 5,800

Crazy Love Pt. 1

Crazy Love Pt. 3 Ver. 1

Crazy Love Pt. 3 Ver. 2

Cherrylemontober

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

It's been 5 months since you got away. The slip up of almost getting caught that day wasn't the end of what you're doing. No, not even close, everything just got worse

 Ever since that cursed day, following Natasha's every move was at the top of your list. The need to make sure she was safe was too much to ignore, you needed her safe, no matter the costs

Following her every move also meant witnessing men continuously flirt with her. The flirtatious acts towards Natasha made you angry, you couldn't control it. You really tried to but at the end of every night the man's blood would end up on your hands and another victim would be added to your ledger

It's not like she couldn't sense someone was continuously following and watching her, she is the Black Widow after all. One of the deadliest, sneakiest, and intelligent assassins but at the end of the day you still managed to outsmart her. No matter how hard or close she came to catching you, you would always find a loophole before she could

Tonight isn't any different. As you follow the latest man who harassed her, Natasha, thoughts of what he did swarmed your mind. The image of him cat-calling her as she walked into the party and even slapping her ass after her clear rejection. The guy would not quit and seeing that Steve wasn't there to protect her caused you to get more angry

The image in your head gets more consuming as you finally catch up with him and shove him into an empty alley

"Who the fuck are you," he questions trying to push you off

Instead of verbally answering you drive your fist hard into his stomach causing him to fall on the ground, gasping for air. You grab his head and send a hard punch to his jaw causing him to knock out

You kneel down and force him to sit up to make it easier to pick him up. As you pick him up from the ground you make sure no one is around and start carrying him to your car to put him in the trunk

You then climb into the driver's seat and smirk while you start to drive off, excitement filling your body as you think about the painful punishment awaiting him

"NO, PLEASE STOP!" he exclaims while pain shoots through his body as you run your knife through his body, occasionally adding more pressure to make large gashes

He continues to plead for your mercy while you put the tip of your knife on his thigh and add more pressure, slowly causing it to drive deeper into his skin. As you continue your actions he tries to break away, which is no use due to the ties you put on his wrists and ankles

As he continues to try to move away from you, more cries and pleads leave his mouth as more cuts are made on his skin from the metal bed you tied him to when he was unconscious

 You continue to do this until his body is full of large gashes and cuts. You carve carefully into his skin, making sure the words are visible for when the police find his body

A frown comes across your face as silence surrounds the room, the agonizing screams and begging no longer heard, even as you put the knife deep into his rib cage and twist it

You finally move your gaze to look at his face and huff and shake your head in disappointment as you see him no longer breathing and a slight paleness flooding his face. With a long sigh you roll your eyes and get off of him

From the amount of blood over the scene you could tell he died of blood loss. An annoyed groan escaped your throat

"You could only last ten minutes" You wipe your face with wipes, weighing as you get a sack to put his body inside and in carrying it into the trunk of your car, as you slam the trunk closed you mumble

"Well, that was no fun. I had so many fun plans for you but I guess I'll have to use them on the next douchebag" you quickly climb into the driver side of your car and put it into drive to make your way home

Before arriving at your house, you make a quick detour to dispose of the body. When you finally arrive home you quickly enter and make your way to your bedroom to dispose of your clothes and take a much needed shower

After you finish your shower you quickly change into new clothes and grab the old ones. You quickly go into your living room and start a fire in the fireplace

As the fire starts to grow you throw the clothes into the fire. Burning them was the easiest way to get rid of the blood stained clothes, no traces were left

In the Avengers Compound the team is stressing out due to the uprise of murders that have been going on for the past few months

The Avengers handling murder cases wasn't very common, the police handed the cases over to them due to them not being able to get any leads

The cases were getting worse every month, the only people who would be able to figure this out were the world's mightiest heroes

"Any lead where she could be?" Tony asked, clearly stressed out

The team has been tracking and trying to find where you are but they can't get any direct leads. The air is tense as they try to find a lead, tension fills everyone's body, especially Natasha and Wanda

When the pair figured out it was you behind all of the killings they didn't tell Fury. A divide was made in the team when they confessed to knowing it was you

The others wanted to tell the Director while Clint and Thor agreed with Natasha and Wanda on not telling him. Which is why the heroes are currently fighting with each other

"Nothing," Sam simply said while looking around the room. Steve abruptly got up from his chair

"No one can stop me from telling Fury. It's the right thing to do!" Steve said in a leader voice

"Don't you fucking dare, Steve!" Nat threatens while taking an intimidating step towards him

"Not even you babe, I'm sorry but we have to tell him," Steve said while trying to walk past her but Nat didn't let up and stopped him before he could

"No one will tell this to Fury," Nat exclaimed then that's the start of more chaos

Steve and Nat fall into a screaming match while the others have their own amongst each other. The screaming matches abruptly end when a hologram appears in the middle of the room. Everyone turns their gazes to see Fury standing with his hands behind his back

"Director Fury," Nat says while sending a respectful nod to him, causing everyone else to greet him

"Sorry to bother you all at this time but another victim has been found in the outskirts of the city," he simply states while keeping a stern look. The team all shake their heads as disappointment fills them

Natasha closes her eyes, she can't believe that this is happening, she can't and doesn't want to accept the truth that you're killing people for her, that your love is flooding over you to the point where you would actually kill just for her

She can't believe this because you're her best friend, the person who was always bubbly, cheerful, adorable and sweet

She can't accept that the Y/n she's always known is different now, a crazy person who would kill people just because of a feeling that's supposed to cause happiness in life, the feeling of love

She's so lost in her thoughts that her brain didn't even register that Tony and Steve were telling Fury about you being the murder

Natasha finally got out of her head when she saw Wanda's hands glowing red in her peripheral vision

"How long," Fury sternly asks, causing Nat to quickly sit beside Wanda and hold her hand to calm her down

"Since a few months ago," Bruce mutters while Nat continues to comfort Wanda until the red on her hands and eyes start to slowly fade

"And you just decided to tell me that Y/L/N is the person behind this" Fury sternly questions causing Nat to close her eyes and clenched her jaw, anger coursing through her body

She wants to save you because she knows that the Y/n she knows and loves is still there, Wanda wants to save you too, she believes what Natasha believes, they both have the same reasons and beliefs

They kept talking until the call ended, Wanda quickly pinned them down using her powers, excluding Nat, Clint and Thor

"What the fuck! why did you tell him," Wanda hissed, causing Nat to get in front of her and put her hand on her arm to calm her down

She could tell her powers were too powerful for the boys, their groaning and gasps of pain being enough to tell just how powerful Wanda's powers were

"He- he had the right- to know," Steve gasped out between painful winces, the statement only firing something inside Wanda causing her to hold them even tighter

"Hey, hey Wanda calm down," Nat cups her face, making Wanda's gaze turn to her

Once Wanda's eyes land on Natasha's, she smiles and sends a quick nod, then Wanda starts to slowly calm down causing her powers to fade away until she completely releases them

"We can't hide the fact that it's her forever" Bruce exclaimed while rubbing over the part of his body that Wanda's powers were on

A silence falls over the room as they take a few minutes to catch their breath, not wanting to fight anymore

"So now what?" Nat questions them, still angry. They look at each other having a silent conversation

After a few days of going over the cases, they finally come up with a plan which leads to now

The first part of the plan starts with Tony having one of his huge parties and Nat wearing a sexy revealing dress

Natasha quickly checks around the room to see everyone in position. Nat goes on the dance floor while Steve acts like he's busy with something else

Nat starts to dance while acting drunk causing a man named James to approach her and start to touch her

On the other side of the compound you're hiding with binoculars, you keep your gaze focused on Natasha. Anger starts to bubble in your stomach as you see someone all up on her again

As the scene continues to unfold, his hands continue to wander over her body causing your blood to boil, you quickly glance at Steve to see him busy doing something else

It goes on until the party starts to slowly die down, you keep an eye on the guy while keeping an eye on Natasha

Once you see that the guy is walking on the dark side of the compound you quickly go to him and knock him out, you pick him up and start to go to your car but before you get a chance to take another step the team corners you

The team's plan goes according to plan, James, the guy who was set to flirt and harass Natasha, is an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D (Clint's friend)

The plan was to let James act like an awful man who would harass Nat, the team would act like they don't know what is happening and when the party dies down James will be the last to go out. The team got in position and stood by the corner you were in and boom, they surrounded you

"Y/N" Natasha whispers

You look at the team and smirk, you drop James on the ground and chuckle, patting down your clothes to fix the wrinkles

"Long time no see guys" you enthusiastically exclaim with a grin on your face

"Y/N/N please, just stop this," Wanda whispers pleadingly, only loud enough for you to hear

You turn to her and smile sweetly, you take a step but Vision and Bucky stop you, Bucky points his gun and Vision puts his strong arm in front of you, you look at it and chuckle

"Don't you dare take another step," Tony hisses, pointing his repulser at you. You turn to him with innocent eyes

"Why Dad?" you question keeping an innocent look

"Am I in trouble? I didn't break one of your suits, nor interrupt you from your lab" you spit out the last part with a sweet voice

He shook his head at your antics, he loves you so much, he treated you like his own daughter. When you mentioned the last sentence, memories of when you were happy swarmed his mind

"Stop it" he bites out

"You're not her! I don't want to hurt anyone to get hurt, especially you but you're leaving us no choice here Y/N" Tony tries to bargain while looking at you again causing his eyes to fill with anger when he realizes you're not the same person anymore

"Awh, you're all so sweet," you sarcastically exclaim through gritted teeth with a smile on your face while your gaze is set on them

"Just surrender Y/N," Natasha says with a pleading tone and eyes

"You know that I love you so much Nat, I can give you the world, that's how much I love you! I'm willing to do everything for you but I'm so sorry my love, I love you Nat" you confess with a loving tone while staring into her eyes. As soon as she smiles and tries to take a step towards you, you drop the smile and look at her with an emotionless gaze. You wanted to fall into this, fall into her, but deep down you knew that it was a trap. You may be crazy for her love but you're not dumb, as soon as Natasha sees your change in emotion she frowns at you

"But you can't fool me" you lowly say, you then throw a gas bomb at your feet and as soon the gas spreads you quickly bring everyone down, some try to stop you but you dodge their moves

When the gas starts to fade you quickly run away from them. Bruce, Sam, Bucky and Vision groan and wince holding onto themselves due to you injuring them. Nat, Steve, Tony, Wanda, Clint and Thor weren't affected so they chased after you

As you're running Tony lands in front of you and tries to hit you with his repulser, you dodge it and with your skills you manage to take his mask and turn off his suit, as you're about to stab him in the thigh, Steve grabs you and throws you in a tree

You groan while standing up, Clint approaches you and tries to bring you down but you quickly slip him off of his feet and slice the side of his rib cage and stab him under his collar bone, seeing Clint on the ground, Steve and Tony try to bring you down

You fight with them, they are strong but you manage to get off of them and run again then Thor tries to hit you with his thunder but when he's busy summoning his power you throw two daggers at him and it lands on his right bicep and the side of his abdomen

Tony, Steve, and Wanda quickly approach you to try to end this. As Tony approached you, you noticed how he had his suit back on which didn't matter because you took it off of him and stabbed him in the hip and threw him into the tree

You're near your exit, but Steve stops you, you both exchange punches until Nat joins too. They try to bring you down but fail, you know them very well, reading what their next move would be was a big advantage for you

Steve gets a hold of you and Nat is gonna put you to sleep but you have other plans, you pout at her and laugh like a crazy person

"I love you Natasha but," as you trail off you use Steve as strength and kick Natasha to her face making her nose bleed and slam down on the ground

You jump Steve's back and quickly stab him on the back of his hip and tase him making him fall to the ground. Wanda quickly comes into your view, you look at her with a pout then smile, her eyes glow red while she starts to form an energy ball, you gasp at it like you're surprised at what she's doing

"You know my dear friend, you're late for the fight and now an energy ball, seriously?" You laugh at her actions causing her to look at you with anger in her eyes

"You leave me no choice Y/N, I don't want to do this but I have to" she continues to form the energy ball to throw it at you but stops when you state something that makes her question herself

"You have to because that's what they ordered you to do Wanda! Look at what happened to your dear brother, he died because you both followed Ultron, you both helped him take the whole city of Sokovia down, if you both didn't take orders, there would've been no war in Sokovia," you bitterly exclaim with a smile causing Wanda to get lost in her mind

"That's enough!" Natasha exclaims through gritted teeth

She then uses one of her widow bites on you causing you to fall to the ground. You quickly take it off and slowly stand up, you look at her with an emotionless expression

That's when Natasha realized that fighting with you will never change your mind but what she did next really shocked you

"Y/N, I'm not gonna fight you, okay," she said softly while taking off her widow bites and taking her guns and knives off of her body and resting them on the ground. She then stands up with hand in the air, showing you her surrender

"Let's talk, please," she says with a pleasing tone

"I'm not gonna fight you, I promise" You didn't buy it but you just look at her and she sends you a pleading nod

"Okay, it's fine if you keep your weapons, but please" she says while starting to take a step towards you causing your body to get into alert mode

Noticing this she stops to let you adjust to her, when she knows that you're okay she starts to walk towards you slowly again, you let her until she's in front of you. Tears fall down her eyes causing you to wipe them with your thumb, she then cups your face and sniffles while smiling at you

"Please stop this, this is madness, this is not the Y/n I know," she whispers, searching in your eyes for any sign of the Y/n she knows but she couldn't find the spark you used to hold in your eyes. She couldn't find you in them anymore

"I'm willing to do anything to protect you, those guys" you trail off trying to contain yourself

"They deserved to die" you whisper lowly and your eyes turn soft

Nat smiles as she notices the shift in your expression, hoping that the 1% of her Y/n will be enough to get through to you, she'll take that small chance to bring you back

"I know but you don't have to do that" she caresses your cheeks with her thumb and smiles at you

"You're a hero Y/n, you're not the Villain. You do good things for people, you don't go around killing people like that" she whispers softly and puts her forehead on yours, you close your eyes and feel the connection, you even drop the knife you held in your hand

"I'm just doing what I know is right" you whisper while looking at her eyes. You're so lost in the moment that you crash your lips on hers

Shock runs through Natasha's body while anger starts to bubble in her chest, unable to contain herself she harshly pushes you off

Guilt starts to cloud her brain as she starts to feel like she cheated on Steve which causes her to get more angry

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!" she shouts while wiping her lips. Her lashing out causes you to go back to your crazy side, you chuckle and shrug your shoulders

"I just kissed you my love-" Before you could finish your sentence she cuts you off

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT! I'M NOT YOUR LOVER AND WILL NEVER  BE! YOU'RE A FUCKING KILLER!" As she shouts in your face, no emotion is seen on yours which causes Natasha to get even more angry

"YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT'S BEST FOR ME?!" she questions

"YOU KILL EVERY MAN WHO LAY THEIR HANDS ON ME BUT YOU KNOW WHO YOU NEED TO KILL NEXT?!" she bitterly questions, completely losing her composure. You keep your silence causing Nat to go on

"YOUR FUCKING SELF! YOU'RE A FUCKING KILLER!, YOU THINK THEY ARE DANGEROUS FOR ME?! WHAT IF I GOT WITH YOU?!" she exclaims with venom filled in her tone

"I WOULD CHOOSE TO BE WITH ANY OF THOSE MEN OVER YOU BECAUSE YOU'RE THE MOST DANGEROUS PERSON!" she shouts pointing her finger in your chest aggressively causing Wanda to snap out of her thoughts and watch what was going on

"YOU'RE A CRAZY, DANGEROUS, KILLER. THE WORLD WOULD BE A BETTER PLACE WITHOUT YOU IN IT!" she exclaims again, finally taking a deep breath to gather herself

"Stop following me, killing for me and most importantly stop loving me because I will never love you the way you want me to" she hisses out bitterly

You stand there, taking everything she said in, Wanda just stands there gulping at what Natasha said, she doesn't want to get in between this so she chooses to stay out of it

"Is that really what you want?" you ask with an emotionless tone

She looks at you with confusion, but nods frantically and Wanda bites her lips alternating her gaze between the both of you

"Yes! Yes that's what I want" she said still angry causing you to simply nod at her

"Okay" you simply state and then throw a small chip at Wanda causing her to fall to the ground and tase Natasha in the neck making her go weak

"But I will never surrender myself to you" you simply state, you run off until you approach your emergency vehicle, it was a black 2020 BMW R1250 RS

Once you get in the vehicle you quickly drive off, away from them and make sure that no one's following you. Once you confirm you're not being followed you speed off to your house

It's been a week now and the team stressed at first that you got away but it was a relief when no new victims were found, it makes them think that you stop but they are still trying to find you

They want to see and talk to you in a good way, not like your last encounter, they keep looking for you

But Natasha is so bother at where you at and the package you send to her the night after the fight, it was a small box with full of the flower of a cherry blossom tree and a note, she don't want to open it so she don't know what it is but she always keep it on her pocket

Then Wanda is so lost in her head, after the fight she feels something wasn't right after that she feels all of your connection to her is gone, and it makes her worried and drives her crazy, she just wishes that you're ok

"Finally!" Tony shouts and writes down the address of your house, everyone goes to him

"What? What is it?" Natasha asked frantically and Steve rubbed her arm

"I finally found her" Tony said and gave the address to them, Natasha quickly read it out loud

"What are we waiting for? let's go!" Wanda quickly said, getting anxious at what will happen next, she doesn't have a good feeling, she tried to connect to you for weeks now but she just can't, it's like you just vanished

"Ok let's go" They all said and quickly got to their cars, Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Vision are in one car then Bucky, Sam, Thor, Clint and Bruce are in the other car together and well, Tony is in his sports car alone

They speed off in your location, the others are happy that they will finally find where you are but not Wanda, she truly feels something is wrong, and she can't lose you cause you're the only one who's left of her family, she see you as a sister

Once they got in the house, it was quiet, the house was silent and like it's no life, it's not lively, the plants are already dead, dried leaves are scattered around the house, it's like someone abandoned it

"Ok, let's go" Bucky said, scanning the house

They nod and go to your front door, they knock but no one's opening the door nor no sounds inside the house, they look at each other worried

"Let's just go in" Sam suggests and Steve nods since he's in the front and he opens it

They frown at the door isn't lock, they got in and the scan the house, the house is neat, no object are out of place, the house looks like your style so they know it's yours, but it have dust that confused them cause you're the person who's organized and clean, who leaves no sign of trash nor a single dust in your place

"Ok scattered around" Nat said and they nod, Nat and Wanda go up with Bucky and Vision and they divide into two so Wanda and Nat wonder at the right side

They see nothing, so the guys go up and meet Bucky and Vision so they go to Wanda and Nat, then they hear a loud thud and scream of Wanda, they quickly run to where the sound is, clearly worried, and they burst into your room

They see Natasha and Wanda are on the floor, frozen while looking up, Wanda is screaming and trying to get out of Natasha's embrace while Natasha holds Wanda tightly

The woman was both crying, while Wanda screamed, agonizing that everybody's heart broke. Once the guys saw what it was, they were shocked

Steve, Bucky, Bruce and Sam shook their heads while tears ran down to their cheeks, their eyes glued to what was in front of them, crying specially Tony, his heart wreck

"NO NO NO NOOOOOOOO!" Thor shouts and the cloud turns to dark gray and thunder are everywhere, starting a thunderstorm

They see you, see you hanging in the ceiling, blood is already dried in your body and on the floor, that night until the other day, all is in your head is what Natasha said and what she wants

You didn't refer at what the last thing she said, your asking if she truly want for you to kill yourself, so when you confirm it, you think of it over night until you hang a rope in the ceiling of your bedroom and hang yourself there but not before torturing yourself too like you did to the others

"NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Wanda screams and gives up, leaning on Natasha and crying on her arm

Natasha acts strong but deep inside her, she's so broken, she picks Wanda up and goes out of the house to their car and they cry there but Natasha tries to comfort her, cause she knows how you meant to her

While the two women crying in the car, Steve and Bucky bring your body down, then they bring you to the compound and clean you up, only a woman who's not related to you cleans you up cause Nat or Wanda can't look at you

They mourn for you that day until you're already clean. They go to you and look at you, when they see you they finally see your innocent face

Memories flashing back to their head and tears falling, all the happy memories are coming back to their head, and it breaks their heart to see you like this, that you took your own life

Once they are around you they take the white fabric covering your body and you're wearing a white sando and shorts

That's when they saw the carved words, it was all over your body, they gasped at it, Natasha's world crashed when she saw it

'Killer' 'Crazy' 'Dangerous' are carved in you, all over your body, from head to toe

The night of your fight flash back on Natasha's head, when she lashed out at you and what she said, she gasped at it and just got out there

She can't handle it all, it's so overwhelming for her, so she got on her motorbike and went to one place you both love, it was a special place cause that's where you both always spend your free time and make happy memories

She goes to the mountain where you can see the city, you both even build a little tree house there and plant flowers there

Once she got there she got to the edge and sat there, that's where you both sit, but today she sat at your side, at the right one

She sobs there, she lets her emotion out there and holds her chest at how painful it is. The memory of her telling you what you are and what you should do that night is repeating in her head like her favorite movie that she didn't get tired watching

She keeps crying there, she take all of her emotion out there, she even throw a rocks and scream at the top of her long until her body collapsed on the ground, she sob there pouring all of her emotions that she never let anyone see it and let them to know it excluding you, your the only person she can be who she is and show every part of her

Until she brings out the note you sent to her, out in her pocket then she slowly opens it with her shaky hands and reads what you wrote

She thinks that she can't cry anymore, she thinks that all of her tears are all pour out but once she read what you wrote she sobs at it and more tears come out, while clinging the note to her chest with a shattered heart

I'll always do what you wantYour wish is my commandBye. Natalia

She cries there, she cries her eyes out, her heart sting more at the use of her birth name, you never used it before, it has always been Nat, Natty, Tasha or other pet names she loves but this? This broke her heart more than before, this is the first time she cried like this, like the half of her life ripped out of her, like someone took that away from her, when you took your own life, you bring the half of Natasha with you

You're her best friend, her buddy, her partner of crime, you show her love, you're the one who make her believe that she's not just capable but she also allowed to love someone, your the one who show her that love isn't just for children, Natasha's life is full of darkness, traumas and bad thing that hunt her but when she see you, when you come to her life, your the highlight of her life

You take all her worries away, because of you, her past never hunted her, she feels like all her life are all happy, you're the most important person in the world to Natasha, she will do anything to protect you cause you saved her, you saved her in any possible way

But she failed to protect you, even worse she's the reason why you took your own life, she killed you, and now this will forever haunt her until she dies

"I'm-I'm so........sorry bub, I'm so sorry I didn't protect you!" she whispered crying

She screamed at the top of her lungs, it was so agonizing, that if anyone will heard her will break

Your death will hunt her every night, every hours, minutes and seconds, she will never forget this day

[vidavalor]

*pops up and dusts off shoulder* Hi! Thanks for thinking of me. Love this topic. Dear as a corruption of the original deil but just within the song, I would think. It looks like it's a phonetic evolution. Basically, people misheard the similar-sounding words enough that this new version of the song emerged. Because it's a folk ballad, it was sung often enough and by so many varied people that its lyrics changed over time. It's sung as "dear" in the version of the song in the film, which I've seen and is lovely.

A more modern version of this same word corruption effect on a song would be the changes to Britney Spears' "Toxic." The actual, original, official lyric in that song was a taste of a poisoned paradigm but so many people heard a taste of a poisoned paradise instead that everyone involved-- including Britney Spears and the songwriters-- basically gave up on insisting that the original lyric be upheld. There have been subsequent, official versions where she sings paradise and the best cover of the song-- Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox feat. Melinda Doolittle's smoky and very Crowley & Aziraphale torch song rendition of it-- uses the paradise line. As someone who basically only likes this one Britney song and thought the original lyric was better, I find this all quite irritating. 😂

What's interesting about the language evolution/corruption in "I Know Where I'm Going" is that this word very much changes the tone and meaning of the song. It's a bit darker when it's referring to Satan and the fact that the song is referring to him is referencing a forbidden aspect to the romance-- one that could incur the wrath of The Devil. They know where they are going and they know who they love and who they'll marry-- and The Devil does, too.

Add it to the ever-growing list of suggestions that Satan is appearing to be The Metatron in The Final 15...

But when it evolves in the song to be "dear" instead of "deil" and to shake The Devil free from the song? Then, it becomes a love song about this person who is confident in their direction because they know who they love and who they'll marry and their dear-- the person they love-- knows it, too. It's this version of the song that is sung in the film.

The "I Know Where I'm Going" episode title seems to be emphasizing the influence of that film as a whole but likely by also confirming the main reference to it in S2, which is in the tartan hills as Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh. This comes from one of the best parts of the film and the way the show is using it is just... *happy sigh* I loved it so much. 😇 I don't want to spoil the film for anyone who hasn't seen it-- and give it a watch, it's great!-- so, I'm going to be a bit vague but hopefully, you'll see where I'm, well, going, with it. Some spoilers below.

The film is a love story-- a tone-shifting, genre-bending one at times, much like Good Omens. Its central character is a woman named Joan whose anxiety is hidden by her stubbornness and determinism, which has both positive qualities and negative ones. She believes she knows where she's going and has a plan to follow for her life and we watch as those plans get blown to smithereens by her running into trouble on her journey to a remote Scottish island to marry this horrible guy. On the way, she meets and falls in love with Torquil, the local laird and the person she'd be much better suited to marrying.

Torquil is the one who sees her there and they help each other to live a bit more and fall in love for most of the film. The bad weather conditions that have stranded Joan on the other side of island from where she's supposed to go marry this other guy finally clear near the end of the film and she has a choice to make: does she go through with her plan... or does she, for the first time, abandon her sense that she always knew where she was going and marry Torquil?

The tartan hills scene that is referenced in Good Omens comes from one of the most fun parts of the film-- the one that exists to show us Joan's rationale for why she's planning on marrying this other guy who is decades older than her that we already know she doesn't love (and whom we only hear, once, during the film, and never meet.) While Joan is on the train for the first leg of her long journey to this Scottish island, she falls asleep and has a dream that explains to the audience what she's thinking. Joan doesn't dream of her fiance himself at all. The man she's marrying owns the company she works for, which is called Consolidated Chemical, and is basically presented as this too big to fail energy juggernaut. During the dream, the phrase "it's all arranged" repeats with the rhythm of the chugging train wheels and her dream is about money and status but it's really about her own feelings of insecurity.

What makes Joan likable is that she doesn't truly desire money and status so much as she is awkward, has trouble making friends, is anxious, and wants security. She has mistaken economic security for emotional security. She doesn't like herself enough to believe that she should marry someone she loves. She wants to marry the company this guy owns-- not him-- because she thinks that will give her a position and a place and solve her problems of feeling insecure.

She spends most of the film with Torquil and the real, working class people that he knows-- many of whom have been harmed by her fiance's presence on the nearby island-- and it forces her to realize that she made a plan that she thought was safe for her out of fear but that she didn't want to be going in the direction she was going and she doesn't really want anything to do with Consolidated Chemical. Her heart is with Torquil and his people. She realizes that her own stubborn sense of independence made her never someone who could have been satisfied with that plan she had made for her life because her values do not align with those of a life of being Mrs. Consolidated Chemical.

(The film also loves Scotland big time and there's an element in it of an Englishwoman falling in love with some Scots and their way of life that Good Omens also echoes with things like the 1827 minisode and Crowley and Aziraphale's love of Scotland-- Aziraphale changing the flag on the guy in the graveyard's phone, etc.. There's also a plot about Torquil, the idea of being cursed/doomed for eternity, and a whole thing about crossing doors/thresholds that are all very Good Omens as well but that would be too spoilery to get into.)

So, in the course of this dream that Joan has, she dreams of her journey to Scotland and the hills in her dream are covered in tartan. She doesn't know it but this is foreshadowing her actual fate-- she will fall for Scotland and for the man she meets there on her journey. This is the last thing she sees before she wakes up and then the whole rest of the film is really her waking up from the metaphorical dream that was her initial plans for her life and how unhealthy they were. The dream sequence is sort of a summary of where the film began and where it's going that is hidden in plain sight near the start of the film.

It's one thing for a tv show or a film to do an homage to another show/film but it's another to do one the way that GO nods to I Know Where I'm Going!. GO does an homage to this film by having Aziraphale do his own homage to it, in such a way that it makes it clear that Aziraphale is aware of the film. Aziraphale, as he is on his own journey to Scotland, changes bits of The Bentley to reflect Crowley and then, to amuse himself, changes the hills while he drives past them into the tartan hills of Joan's dream in I Know Where I'm Going!. It says that he knows and loves this movie.

It says that he sees elements of he and Crowley in Joan and Torquil's story. He relates to the movie as being like how Crowley came along and wrecked his plans to unhappily follow The Ineffable Plan into the abyss. Aziraphale has long since known where he's going, who he loves, and who he'll marry. Aziraphale's dear knows it, too. They're just about 90 minutes or so out from being able to make the last part happen.

I Know Where I'm Going...

Despite knowing the Powell & Pressburger influence on GO, I hadn't realised the episode 'I Know Where I'm Going' was named after a P&P movie! Flipping TV channels this evening, it was on BBC just as a bright eyed maid was travelling to Scotland and singing about a disreputable lover...

Aziraphale nipping up to Edinburgh, thinking about his devil dear...? So many LAYERS.

[fisheito]

friend fish!!! do you have any super specific headcanons for nucarni you'd want to post about? like from the serious to the silly. im talking from like how did little yakumo deal w humans and snakes hating him and then his grandparents loving him to who are the left handed mfs and who are the right handed mfs. how did kuya handle huey disappearing vs can garukaru wink. i like your brain and i like the very specific little things that come from everyone's brains and just wanted to see if you wanted to post any sillies or seriousies :3

why, friend anon, it seems like You are the one bursting with ideas... if u wish to share with the class i shan't object ohoho

MMM>....UUHHHHH boy ain't it just appropriate that once u hand me the microphone, my mind blanks hmmm........ ............(leaves ask and comes back in several hours)

OH I got one!! yakumo and chickens

s o one day, i wished to draw yakumo holding a chicken. just snekboi holding an absolute buff orpington orb of chicken, because it would be, how u say,... grotesquely adorable, yes??

but before i could, i wondered.. is that possible? do chickens like yakumo? or would they sense his snakeyness and hate him? was it ever discussed in the story?

my immediate thought was of those chickens who get hypnotised into a catatonic state when u draw a straight line in front of them. u know all those gifs of the chickens that just go [plop] with HARD FOCUS on the line? and as soon as line was erased, chicken blinked back into existence/Killer Peck mode?

i remember ppl hypothesising that it was bc the lines reminded them of snakes and the chickens were like shhhhh play ded the snakes will want nothing to do with us.

i can;t remember if they ever actually found the answer to that behaviour. i wish i knew. but i don't. so instead i imagined eiden placing a 🧍‍♂️yakumo horizontally in front of a chicken to see if the trance could be replicated

the whole thing made me think about yakumo's relation to animals, especially farm animals, bc idk if his grandparents ever farmed animals or if it was JUST produce. the story so far seems to say vegebls only but *I* want *FARM ANIMALS* and *YAKUMO* ***toGETHER*(*(***** so we continue the train of thought

yakumo has pulled Princess-Snow-White-shenanigans in the past (Idol Fest). those forest animals didn't have a problem rolling up to yakumo just to listen to him sing. i don't remember if exact animals were mentioned in the story, but i'mma assume it was lil guys like rabbits, birds, rodents, deer. i mean... snakes have been known to share habitats with these guys... so it would make sense for some of them to be scared if yakumo's energy is more snake>human.

but then KUYA??? he's a fox. yet he's got parades of adoring forest worshippers everywhere he goes, regardless of predator/prey status. so maybe the vibe of Yokai overrides whatever trophic chain dynamics are supposed to exist in this world. So instead of EEK! A SNAKE/FOX! the animals be like Yokai=cool nature powerbeing let's hang out ?

but then i wonder if the Yokai Vibe is moderated by Yokai expertise. bc kuya of course has way more experience as yokai... he's more likely to embrace his foxy traits than yakumo with his snakey traits (what is this.... a competition of self acceptance now??).. so maybe the animals all trail after kuya bc of his confidence,,, but would they do the same for yakumo who hasn't yet transcended to that Power Strut Aura?

which relates to childhood yakumo. to surrounding animals, what was his vibe? snakey? human? yokai? did it matter? he mentioned that the other snakes used to bully him .. and that people also used to chase him away... so his vibe was. what? like the king cobra who eats other snakes, and can bite people? at this point, it's not like yakumo has the self-control or self-acceptance to consciously manipulate his outward appearance. his vibe is his vibe.

so, in this unsure, untrained, scared snake-self stage of his life, he still appeared as a Threat to other snakes (and probably other animals that typically fear snakes). i imagine that if i were to introduce yakumo to farm animals at this point, they would react like they saw a potentially dangerous snake. chickens angy. cows might stomp u. goats might eat u

and yet Grandma and Grandpa , like many humans, promptly threw convention out the window and went [lol what threat?? he scared. let's give him some soup]] -> for further proof of ppl being like that, look at. any dangerous creature. cute as heck. i'll fawn over apex predators. angry bear incapable of empathy? deserves my respect. sure i'll share my room with a snake if it looks like it's crying . self-preservation? why would i care about that if i have the chance to make the snake less sad??

i mean, farm animals are domesticated so they're supposed to be pretty chill. i like to think that once yakumo spent more time on the farm with a loving family, his energy became more stable and more human. and surely with daily exposure, those farm animals would acclimate to yakumo's presence. maybe even grow to like him if he takes care of them.

THAT IS TO SAY even if the animals initially shun him or treat him like Danger... they eventually associate his energy with the good times. and yakumo would learn how to act around each specific animal so as not to upset them (just like any good zookeeper!!). As both parties build upon their experiences, the likelihood of positive interaction between yakumo and another animal goes up up 🆙☝!!!

IN THE END, ALL THIS MEANS is that, simply bc i like animals, i'm gonna pretend that yakumo's grandparents also farmed creatures (dang, an undertaking for 2 elderly ppl. i know. but this is gay fantasy isekai). ok, maybe more believably, a neighbour farmed animals and yakumo was the only young'n around to help. and because of all that, yakumo has experience dealing with animals.

according to my made-up timeline (😄) if i drew him at human age ~7, it would make sense if it was a pic of a cow chewing on his hair (being bullied by ungulates. he's crying), or chickens pecking him en masse

and if i drew him getting ALONG with those same animals, it would more likely be a yakumo at human age -- well- older than that. he's got some working experience at that point.

(slams fist on table) SO I CAN JUSTIFIABLY Draw A FLUFFY CHICKEN RESTING HAPPILY IN YAKUMO'S ARMS AND IT COULD BE IN-CHARACTER.

i crave interspecies friendships. humans do nonsensical things to befriend other critters. why can't the chickens override their snake fear for this one special boi. it is what i want to see and i will twistturn canon until i see it.

[zaacataac]

I need to go to bed but I was struck with a Percy Reed headcanon and I need to write it down lest I go insane. (The post ended up being pretty long so I put it under a cut)

Percy's aromantic. He's not aware of this, and honestly, he probably would have trouble accepting it if he was. This can partially be attributed to the fact that he deeply craves romance. But also he grew up in an extremely amatonormative environment and generally believes, because of this, that the most prominent relationship that someone can have in their life is a significant other and eventually spouse. He wants to be someone else's most important person, and believes that in order for that to happen, that relationship, by default, has to be romantic. This also works in the inverse, so when someone is very very important to him, more so than the rest of his friends, that relationship by default has to be romantic. It's also pretty apparent that he didn't have any super meaningful (and healthy) relationships before he died.

All of this combined is what led to his relationship with Diggory. He felt an attachment to them that felt deeper than how he'd felt with other friends in the past because it was actually substantial, so naturally assumed that his feelings for them were romantic. Additionally, he wanted to establish the relationship that he had with them as the most "important" relationship that they're in, because they were the only person that he felt truly saw him for who he was. In his eyes, he had to be their boyfriend because if he wasn't, they might develop a relationship with someone else that was closer than the one he had with them and then that would mean that the only person that he'd felt a deep connection with didn't actually care about him as much as he did about them, because they're his most important person, but he wouldn't have been theirs. Obviously, the best way to prevent this is by achieving boyfriend status.

Now, I'd like to restate that he's not aware of all this going on under the surface. He doesn't know that he thinks of relationships like this, it's pretty subconscious and he fully believes that his feelings for Diggory are romantic because he doesn't really have anything else to compare them to.

[kingwaino]

i have done...an absolute deep dive into blues and folk music tonight. it was 100% one of those blink and three hours have passed type of deals. worth it though.

[acrobattack]

i think it’s fun that blossom and buttercup butt heads the most vs brick who targets boomer and more or less gets along swell with butch

[thebeautifulfantastic]

<3

[iseel1]

I just saw Barbie, and I thought that it was pretty good

[porcalinecunt]

Can i pls request some face sitting headcanons for bllk guys? Specifically Sae, Rin, Shido, Oliver and Bachira solely because i think they're the nastiest 😆🫣 thank God!

𝐒𝐈𝐓.

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ face sitting with blue lock boys! ~

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐒𝐀𝐄 & 𝐑𝐈𝐍. 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔. 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑. 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀.

cw — gn!reader. afab!reader. so much oral sex. edging. overstimulation. spanking. spitting. squirting. full on tongue fucking. denied orgasms. pervy behavior. shidou being an animal.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : FUCK—this too me way too long to finish, but here it is! apologies nonnie for taking forever ;-;

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

slow n steady always wins the race. a motto sae keeps firm when it comes to sex, no matter what he’s doing. when it comes to oral though..god. the agonizing drag of his tongue while he holds you by your hips, moving them against his mouth as he kissed your sensative clit before prodding his tongue against your hole. everytime you try to speed up your pace, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and waist to keep you in your place. he might as well be edging the fuck out of you until you finally feel the knot snap in two and gush all over your boyfriend’s mouth. sae, bedroom eyes and all, would admire your fucked out face and trembling body before flipping you onto your back and continuing where he left off. safe to say, you aren’t getting out of his grip until you squirted every last drop.

“s-sae..quit being a tease..” you stuttered, trying your hardest not to buck your hips. if it wasn’t for sae’s strength, you would’ve gone wild and full on rode his face like a madman. his whole arms wrapped around your thighs, gripping tighter then usual while he switched from your clit to your sensitive pussy. sae’s sharp, jade eyes staring up at yours. his pupils were blown with a burning desire all too clear to you, as if his tongue movements didn’t say enough. god, he was a patient one and it was getting on your last nerves. a thought he promptly smacked you out of with a simple strike to the ass.

“paitience, darling. or i’ll leave you like this, i can’t stand whiny whores who get greedy.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍

rin is more needier then his older brother, encouraging your carnal desires and egging you on as you rode his face as fast n hard as you please. the guy was basically making out with your cunt, open mouthed kisses and his tongue prying through your pussy had you gripping on the headboards or his hair. his hands roamed your body as he pleased, tracing his fingers against your stomach up to your sensitive nipples where he pinched and squeezed between his fingertips. don't think he'll stop either! long after you squirt all over his mouth, he'll only pull away just to take one long look at your fucked out face before he dives right back in again. rin gets pussydrunk a bit too easily, but why complain?

“rin..m-more, please..! i need more!” you begged and pleaded with a whine ripped straight from the jugular as you grinding your pussy against your boyfriend’s mouth. rin cracked open his eyes, through the blurred chaos, he admired your fucked out expression as you clung onto the wooden headboard for dear fuckin’ life. it was all too addictive to simple get off, how desperate and downright pussydrunk this man was, it’d be too cruel to pull away now! your thought process only strengthened when rin began to tug away at your sensative and soaked nipples from when he was mouthing at them earlier. he simply couldn’t get enough.

“stay with me..please, fuck! jus’ a little more, you can do that for me? please..?”

₊˚ෆ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐈

so much of a sloppy eater, it’s downright disgusting. shidou’s hands are unpredictable, switching from caressing and squishing the soft flesh of your ass to swatting away at it with quick strikes. don’t get me started on his oral anticts. this man is fucking eating away at your poor pussy, flicking his tongue against your sore clit while suckin’ n kissing at your abused hole. you couldn’t even move your hips with how much he’d just forced you down onto his mouth again, thus you had to sit there and simply take what he gives you, and god, the noises. besides your own moans and sobs for him to slow down, shidou’s downright animalistic growls and groans fill your ears and go straight into your cunt. don’t think he’s done either after you squirt into his mouth, oh no no! he’ll only push you onto your back with the hopes of you crushing his head with your thighs. he can’t get enough of you.

“haah..ah..r-ryu..” was all you could mutter out of your sore throat. after much whining and sobbing from the overstimulation, you could only make small noises of pleasure while shidou ate away like a man on death row. lapping up the remains of your last orgasm, he pried and pried at your hole until you swore he was tongue fucking you. grabbing fist fulls of his blonde hair only fueled the maniac to fuckin’ nip at your clit, an action that forced another intense orgasm out of your abused cunny and soaked his face even more then before. you could feel a smirk form of his lips before he landed a barrage of sharp slaps onto the flesh of your ass, dragging you out of your euphoric afterglow in time to feel his tongue pushing itself back in.

“c’mon sugar, don’t lose me now! we’re just getting started..! now, keep those pretty legs open..”

₊˚ෆ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

mister aiku here pays attention to both puss and ass with glee. when he told you to sit on his face, he meant it. there's nowhere that his mouth didn't touch, meaning you couldn't run from this man either. similar to shidou, he eats like a starved animal in front of a piece of meat. fingers pumping you full while he pays special attention to your poor clit with the occasional nips that would have you mewling and whining like a bitch in heat. but sadly, he's a greedy bastard when it comes to sex, pulling away right before you could have you sweet orgasm. heterochrome eyes staring daggers at your fucked out face while you pleaded for him to let you cum. you were almost in tears when oliver finally stuffed your twitching cunt with his fingers once again and went to town on your clit again. did i mention he pays attention to ass? that poor thing was covered in handprints and crecent shaped dents from how hard he was grabbing it. maybe, even a little bite mark for good measure.

“oliverrrr!” you whined out. "let me cum already! pleasee!" through tears, you could still see that bastard's shit eating grin. he was fucking enjoying this, getting off at your desperation while you bucked your hips at nothing. down there, oliver was enjoying the show he put together for himself and himself alone. his thumb ghosting over your neglected clit, his eyes flicking up to your own, pleading ones. you looked like a kicked puppy who didn’t get it’s owner’s attention, just like how oliver liked you. a shit eating grin stretched across his lips as he promptly gave your ass a hard slap before finger fucking your cunny at a furious pace. the noises it made sounded straight out of a porno as the pro player flicked his tongue around your clitty. it was all too much to handle at once, or so you claimed. you knew damn well oliver could see right through your teary eyes, and sniff out your disgusting, whorish fantasy.

“keep cryin’ like that and i’ll stop again, you hear me? i know you can pretty thing..i fuckin’ know you can.”

₊˚ෆ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

what a pervert, a proud one at that too! he couldn’t keep his grabby hands to himself all day, something the grew more and more dangerously obvious as the day went on. sneaky hands up your skirt or down your pants, gentle squeezes on your inner thighs inching too close to your wet cunt. the final straw was when you caught him trying to look up your skirt/down your loose pants. dragging him all the way home where he couldn’t even wait to get to the bed and pushed you against the wall, kneeling in front of you while patting his cheek eagerly. clinging onto whatever door frame or counter was nearby as bachira pressed open mouthed, tongue heavy kisses against your spread pussy. he was a messy eater as well, going as far as to even spit on your cunny before diving back in with the intention of drowning in your juices. bachira was full on obsessed. nothing could tear him away from your cunny, no matter how hard you yanked his hair or tried to push his head away. he’ll always come back for more!

“o-oh god..bachira, baby..!” you sighed, clasping a hand over your mouth in a feeble attempt to not alarm the neighbors. bachira quickly noticed and yanked your hand away, staring up at you with the same crazed look he had all day. he didn’t tear his eyes off of you, forcing to maintain eye contact with him as he licked and macked with your ruined cunt. your knees felt weaker and weaker, probably because of the last orgasms your monster of a boyfriend gave you, yet he just refuses to quit! not the stinging pain of you gripping his hair or even your efforts to straight up push him away so he doesn’t suffocate to death in your pussy. bachira, in retaliation, forced your wrists against the wall and gives your cunt a mean spat. you flinched in shock, watching as he simply goes back to eating you out like a madman. fuck, thank god you made it home in time.

“don’t shy away from me! i’m only getting started, my love..don’t you want me to please you? hm?”

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

I promised you some lions! Let's talk about manes, males, and management.

This is Tandie, the current male lion at the Woodland Park Zoo.

Notice anything odd about him? He's got one of those hilarious awkward teenager manes. Except... this cat is nine years old.

I was, of course, immediately curious.

Manes serve a lot of purposes for male lions, including being an indicator of health and fitness - it's actually a sexually selected trait and a social signal. Mane texture / hair quality / length is dependent on nutrition and the body having energy to grow (and carry around!) that much hair! The color is also a signal: males with darker manes have been found to have higher testosterone levels.

In one research report, wild males were much more likely to avoid a lion decoy when it had a longer or darker mane - but the girls really loved a dark mane. It's thought this is because a long, dark mane is an indicator of mate quality. Males with longer, darker manes have higher testosterone and were pretty healthy: meaning they had more energy for fighting, had a better chance of recovering if they got injured, and generally had a higher rate of offspring survival. Manes matter!

So, back to Tandie. He was actually born at the Woodland Park Zoo in 2014 alongside two brothers, to dad Xerxes and mother Adia.

This was Xerxes (rip).

Obviously, a very large, dark, lush mane on Xerxes here. So where did these blond muttonchops come from on his son?

I asked the zoo docents and got an answer that didn't make a lot of sense. They told me that after the three cubs grew into adolescents, they were moved to the Oakland Zoo together. But living together suppressed his testosterone, and he never grew a mane.

Hmmmm.

Here's a photo from 2016, when the brothers debuted at Oakland. They're a year and a half old in this photo.

(Photo Credit: Oakland Zoo)

And here's from an announcement for their third birthday.

(Photo credit: Oakland Zoo)

Okay, so these dudes obviously all were growing manes as of 2017. I think Tandie is the one on the left in the first photo, and laying down in the middle on the second. What happened?

I was just in the Bay Area for a zoo road trip, of course I went to Oakland and tracked down a docent to ask some questions.

It turns out that shortly after the brothers turned three, they started acting like adult male lions: they started scuffling regularly. It's a normal social thing for male lions to live in groups, called coalitions, but according to my lion experts there's generally a baseline level of some social jostling within them. It wasn't quite clear from what the docent said if they couldn't manage the boys together, or if they just wanted to avoid the scratches and small wounds that result from normal lion behavior. Regardless, they put all three of the boys on testosterone blockers in order to be able to keep them together as a social group.

Now, I don't know a lot about the use of hormone alteration as a form of captive animal management, except in the case of birth control. I don't think it's something that's unethical - there was just a webinar on it that I saw go by - but I don't think it's commonly done with big cats. Lions have kind of complicated reproductive cycles, and for instance, we've been learning that female lions can take much longer to come into estrus again than expected after coming off hormonal birth control.

In males, testosterone blockers (or being neutered) means they lose their manes. This is why a lot of rescues will do a vasectomy on their males instead of a neuter - it allows them to keep their mane and the social signals that accompany it.

Tandie returned home to Woodland Park Zoo after Xerxes passed in early 2022, and the docent told me all of the lions had been off their blockers "for while." I'd guess those things happened around the same time, since bringing the trio down to a duo at Oakland would reduce some of the social tensions.

Hormones are such interesting things, though. One of Tandie's brothers has a full mane again, and the other is still totally mane-less.

As for Tandie, his mane is growing back in, and it looks like he might rival his dad for length and coloration.

He started here, in February:

Yesterday:

What a difference four months (and maybe proximity to a girl) makes!

[dunmesh]

okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.

and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.

i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?

and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.

and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.

so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?

but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.

it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.