#my silly little emotionally guarded angels

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Do you think Gojo or Nobara would be angry if you decided to distance yourself from them because they can't reciprocate your feelings?

ANONNNN 🥺🥺 tysm for indulging me on this topic….. i’m extremely abnormal about them…….

i think nobara would be kinda pissed. very pissed. she’s just frustrated about the whole ordeal :((( she’s frustrated with you and your feelings and she’s frustrated with herself and her lack of those feelings . most of all, she’s frustrated that you’re pulling away from her like this!! she treasures you so sincerely and she just . doesn’t want to lose you. unlike gojo she’ll do the emotionally mature thing and confront you one way or another — it might not exactly fix things, but she makes sure that the two of you leave no words unsaid. you’re her friend and she loves you. she just wants to see you smile, and it breaks her heart to know that she’s the reason you aren’t.

gojo though… i don’t think he’d be angry. because he gets it. he’s emotionally mature in a much colder way than nobara is — mature in the sense that he’s accepted your feelings, accepted his lack of those feelings, and accepted the fact that things won’t be the same after he rejects you. i think it hurts him a bit (because he really does care for you!!), but only a little bit, because he’s just. so good at isolating himself from his own negative emotions. he’s still friendly with you, still very much wants things to be the same as always — but he understands and accepts that things aren’t that simple. he won’t force you to be a part of his life, but he’s not going to stop smiling whenever your eyes meet either.

[moonstruckme]

happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis. 

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments. 

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it. 

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps. 

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive. 

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return. 

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.” 

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?” 

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.” 

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?” 

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.” 

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way. 

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.” 

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.” 

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.” 

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?” 

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.” 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?” 

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.” 

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.” 

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?” 

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.” 

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.” 

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.” 

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently. 

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.” 

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.” 

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.” 

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.” 

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?” 

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.” 

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.” 

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.” 

“You’ve caught me.” 

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.” 

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.” 

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.” 

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.” 

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.” 

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

[mermaidchansons]

Warm Colors: Chapter 8

SugarDaddy!M’Baku x Oshun(reader)

Summary: After leaving St. Lucia, Oshun stays at Megan's house to nurse her heartache; but a moment of weakness changes the tides. 

Words: 2400+

Warnings: A bit of smut, 18+ only

Author’s Note: After this chapter, there will only be two chapters left y’all! Thanks for reading this far!

Translations: sthandwa (my love), thixokazi wam (my goddess), ndiyakuthanda (i love you), omncinci (little one), ukukhanya kobomi bam (light of my life)

Recommended listening: Nobody Gets Me by SZA, BAD BOY by Yseult

Chapter 8

Megan’s Home, Pasadena

It had been weeks since you’d left your small haven on the white sands of the Saint Lucian beach. Your concept of time was shot in the wake of your grief and you weren’t sure of just how many weeks it had been. Maybe two and a half, but no more than 4. Once you arrived home, you saw the usual guards were no longer standing in their place and Zoya was nowhere to be seen. Would his things be gone? The emptiness had begun to set in and you couldn’t even bring yourself to open the door of the loft. The loft that he had paid for. And so, you rushed to the only place that was not yet tainted with heartache, Megan’s house. 

“You need to get up. You haven’t even eaten since yesterday, O.” 

You had gone to Megan’s to lean on her emotionally, but she was visibly more heartbroken than you were. With the dissolution of the contract between you and M’Baku came the end of Megan x Zoya. He couldn't stay behind to be with her and she knew that. But that knowledge didn’t stop her from wishing their time spent together was longer. Meg was carrying on with her sobbing and crying and you were just.. there. You didn’t want to cry or pout or talk about your feelings. You just wanted to push the fast-forward button on this series of feelings that were trying to bubble out of you and get to the point where you no longer missed M’Baku; a timeline where you weren’t in love with him anymore. 

Sitting up on the couch, you lazily held the remote and let it dangle between your fingers. You clicked through the channels aimlessly until you landed on HGTV. Satisfied with the show, you leaned back into the indent your body had made on the couch. Meg passed you on the sofa and stood in front of the tv. 

“Meg, I just found this channel. Move, please.”

“You need to get up. All you do all day is watch tv. I haven’t seen you sketch or paint anything since you got here. I know you and M’B-”

“Please don’t say his name.”

“Fine. I know you and him parted ways but you still need to be you. Maybe if we went back to the loft, you could get some painting done.” 

“I can’t. Artists block.” 

You shifted your weight on the couch and returned your attention to the interior design show on the tv. Megan sighed, leaving the room in a huff and returning with the jingle of her keys sounding in the room. 

“Let’s go. Now.” 

In the car, you stared out the window at the high rises as you entered downtown Los Angeles once again. A twinge in your chest signaled the incoming heartache but you ignored it. You weren’t allowing yourself to feel right now, and a silly little building would not be the cause of your first breakdown in weeks. 

“So.. How long do you get to stay in the loft?” 

“The rent is paid through the end of the year so I’ve some months,” you sighed and placed a hand on Megan’s thigh as she drove.

“I’m sorry about Zoya. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.” 

She shook her head and placed her hand on top of yours, granting you a comforting squeeze. 

“Don’t do that. We knew the risks.”

A sad moment of silence passed before she returned her hand to the steering wheel. You looked through your phone, contemplating if you should delete his number.

“You gotta get a job now, huh? My job is looking for a project coordinator.”

“Actually, no. In our newer contract, there was a clause saying that money would be given to me if our thing ended.” 

“Well, that can’t possibly get you through the rest of the year. How much are we talking about?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t read too much into it. Hold on.”

Megan pulled into the garage of the loft and parked in your assigned spot. You unbuckled yourself and then pulled up the contract on your phone. Leaning against her shoulder, you read aloud as she followed along.

“In the event of dissolution of this contract and relationship, a sum of money will be wired into Oshun Jones’ account in the amount of-”

“One hundred thousand dollars?!” 

You and Megan looked at each other in shock. Scrambling to open your banking app with shaky hands, you logged in and waited for the loading spinning wheel of death to reveal the amount. And there it was, $105,836.72. Your heartbeat in your chest pounded as memories of M’Baku’s solemn face watching you leave St. Lucia flooded your mind; his furrowed brow and the way he held onto your hand as you slipped away. When you leave, you take my heart with you, Oshun. I have no use for it now, he told you before your final embrace. He wanted to take care of you even before you knew he was in love with you. He wanted to care for you even in his absence, even after whatever was between you was no longer thriving. The familiar twinge of pain returned and you opened his contact ID once more, pressing the text icon. Your thumbs moved before you could think and suddenly, you had the need to feel. 

Jabariland, Wakanda

The hot springs of Jabariland held a sacred place in each warrior’s heart. The nature-made pools were hidden between the birch trees below the throne room, on the back of a mountain. The salt-laden warm water was thought to be blessed by Hanuman themself as a haven for worn muscles, wounds from war, and aching bones. After a grueling day of training new warriors, M’Baku slipped away from the snow-covered training arena in search of the only thing that could grant him solace. A good soak in these waters aided in healing most ailments. Perhaps even a broken heart. 

“I just need a moment.” 

He dismissed Zoya and M’Bele so he could have time to reflect privately. He laid his staff down before slipping off his sandals. Shrugging off his wooden armor and fur-lined adornments, he stripped down and took his time getting into the water. The initial sting of warmth against his skin caught his breath before he fully sat and relaxed in the water. But his mind refused to quiet his thoughts and join his body in relaxation. Too many things were going through his mind. Ifechi’s constant suggestions for wives. Training younglings to fight. Requests from villagers. The love of his life leaving him behind. 

No, he gave you that choice. He would only keep you if he could offer what you needed. You deserved more and he was aware of that. He sacrificed his pride and let you choose for both of you. And he would spend the rest of his days trying to convince himself that this decision was best for everyone.

“Lord M’Baku, there’s been-”

“Did I not ask you to give me a moment? What is so urgent that you must interrupt my quiet,” M’Baku asked, cutting off M’Bele’s message.

“It is urgent, brother.” 

M’Bele handed him a small phone with the text screen lit up. He’d only used this tech to contact you and had set it aside once he returned to Jabariland, thinking he wouldn’t need it again. Yet, in one glance at the screen, M’Baku had almost leaped out of the water; all the pain from training was forgotten in an instant. He swiftly collected his armor and began his trek back to his bed chambers, grunting instructions to M’Bele about securing a transport. 

I need you - O

The Ritz Carlton, Los Angeles

The next night, you paced in the foyer of the loft, wringing out your hands repeatedly. Now that you had a reply, you were regretting sending that text. A singular moment of weakness was threatening to break down all the walls you had built over the last few weeks. I need you. What did you need? Did you need attention or affection? The feeling of him filling you up as only he could? That’s it, you thought, I just need one last fuck and I can forget everything. 

A knock sounded at the door and you took a deep breath before opening the door. There he was. The one man that had caused all of your happiness and anguish in the memories that you wrestled with nightly. Before he even had the chance to speak, you pulled him down by his collar and crashed your lips into him. The kiss was all-encompassing, it felt like you could breathe for the first time in days. His soft lips resting on yours were enough to clear your mind of all your previous worries.  Your body was pressed against his but you needed to be closer. As if M’Baku could sense your desires, he picked you up and cradled the plush of your thighs in his hands. You practically melted into him as he carried you to the bedroom. 

He sat on the bed with you straddling his thighs and you unbuttoned his shirt. He took his lips from yours and placed butterfly kisses and bites down your neck and across your chest. You bit your lip as he whispered praises in between his kisses. 

Such a good girl, sthandwa 

Thixokazi wam

How I’ve missed you

His words were tightening the coil beneath your tummy and it was getting to be too much. You placed his hand in your shorts where you needed it most and guided his fingers around your clit. Desperation took over as he sped up the strumming motion on your hardened bead and you rested your head on his shoulder trying to hold the incoming rush of arousal. You were almost embarrassed at how quickly he could undue you with just his words and his fingers. 

You’re close, my love, I can feel it

Be good for me

Ndiyakuthanda, Oshun

Like a dam bursting, your release quaked through you while you orgasmed. Satisfaction and relief should have washed over you as you came, but a sudden sadness broke through instead. Your moans turned into sobs as you collapsed your body weight onto him and cried into the crook of his neck. Everything you had been holding in since you left the island poured out of you as he held you in his arms. 

“I know, sthandwa, I know.” 

Once the sobs had subsided, you clung to him as you both sat in bed with your backs against the headboard. No one had said a word but he was still rubbing soft circles onto your lower back. The sadness loomed over you but you had no more tears to cry. 

“Oshun,” M’Baku cooed, “ are you still awake, omncinci?” 

You only nodded into his chest and felt the rise and fall against your cheek when he sighed. 

“I need to be honest with you. What do you know of Wakanda?” 

“The country? Not much, besides that one UN speech on the news. Is that where you’re from?”

“Yes. But I am not from the main part of the country where the king resides.” 

You straightened your body and sat up to look at him with confusion on your face.

“I don’t work for a company there. I am the leader and chief of the Jabari tribe. We have resided in the mountains of Wakanda since Bashenga discovered the great mound and I oversee the lives of about 400 of my people.”

He watched you go through the motions as you processed the information he had given you. There were so many questions you wanted to ask. 

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, uthando. I just needed to ensure the safety of my people.” 

“So you’re a whole king?” 

“If that’s what you’d like to call me.”

“If you hold this position of power, why can’t we be together?”

M’Baku shifted his position to face you completely and held your hands. You watched as he looked down and kissed the tops of your hands, holding his lips there for a moment. His momentary silence was worrying and no amount of kisses would make it better. 

“I have a council that advises me in making decisions for my people and they did not grant their blessing to us.”

“Well, maybe if you take me, I can talk to them. I could try to persuade them.” 

“They will not let me take a black American chieftess, let alone bring you to Jabarliland,” he said flatly. 

You were taken aback by the harshness of his words and you removed your hands from his. Anger and confusion started to boil in your chest and you got up from the bed. Holding your hands in a prayer formation, you glared at him as you gathered your thoughts. 

“Let me get this straight. Because I’m black but not Wakandan black, we can’t be together. I didn’t ask to be born here, M’Baku!”

“I know, Oshun, I-”

“Do you know? You’ve been surrounded by your people your entire life. You weren’t given fewer opportunities because of your dark skin and forced to assimilate in a country that doesn’t give a shit about you! Your ancestors weren’t enslaved and mutilated or taken against their will. And because I have the unfortunate circumstance of coming from that, I’m not enough for them? For you?” 

The tears had begun once and again and you rubbed your chest, trying to soothe yourself through this completely new wave of heartache. You turned to look out of the window as you could no longer bare to look at him. M’Baku made quick of coming to stand behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You grimaced at the weight of it all but brought your hands to his arms nonetheless. 

“Of course, you’re enough. You are more than enough. Sthandwa just give me some time, please,” M’Baku begged, his tone low so as not to frighten you. 

“I can’t. I can’t do this. This was a mistake, asking you to come.”

He held on to you tighter, pressing a kiss onto your temple. 

“Ukukhanya kobomi bam, do not shut me out.”

“Please, just go,” you cried, shutting your eyes tight. 

“I love you.”

His hold on you loosened and you held your breath as he rubbed your arms and kissed your head once more; you felt the cold set in once he was no longer touching you. With the front door closed, you sat on your bed and stared out the window, letting the time pass. 

Taglist: @great-neckpectations @babybluepeaches @muse-of-mbaku @melaninmarvel @ashanti-notthesinger @naturallyqueenie @howtoshuckatlife @tgigoldie @archivistofwakanda @alexundefined @minyara-kun @destinio1 @siriuslycollinss @raysunshine78 @madamslayyy @notdsg @ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @greennightspider @bitchacho25 @elaindeereads @whatthefuckbilly143 @jordanhelah @puremolasses @ajspencer1892 @wakanda4everinthisbitch @monochrome-pineapple @psuedo4 @bubblyqueen​ @chaneajoyyy @blowmymbackout @tchallasbabymama @bellabiachi

[agentplutonium]

Godly parent assignments I see >:3c I'll try not to make myself obvious but no promises - my faves are David, Guy, Gavin, Sam - I lean towards grumpy/emotionally guarded with the exception of Pizza Guy - my kins are Angel, Darlin', Damien and as a bonus my fave PJO character is Nico

(linking the post again because it's been a minute since I've done that)

hehehe another fun ^^ i love this game I created sm /lh

now to break down what I'm getting from this kin list

Angel: Aphrodite. 100%, not changing my mind.

Darlin': I think I've said that they were an Ares kid before? Either way, sticking with that.

Damien: I said Ares in one post but I think it's actually Athena, but eh. war gods.

Knowing who your favs are (very typical of someone who kins these characters /lh/j) and the fact that Nico is your fav, this one feels a little easier to assign, but the usual disclaimer of this is for funsies and I'm just being silly goofy, I think I'm gonna give you Athena cabin. Yeah that feels right. Runner up would be Ares, tho.

[mylovelia]

happy valentines day to the sweetest angel on earth ~ 💞

+ your gift is the moodboard i made and this letter :)

hi pretty girl. it's been a long time since we've spoken — i've missed you so much... i hope this doesn't come across as weird or overstep any boundaries, i never want to make you feel uncomfortable. i know you've been on hiatus for a while now and i've seen how you struggled even here, so i thought maybe doing something like this would cheer you up a little ~ don't feel pressured to interact at all with this account if you don't wish to, it's more so for you to look back on when you need a little extra love or a reminder that there's still someone out there who cares for you deeply.

you know, you're everything i could have ever wished for in a first love; you're kind, sympathetic, warm and inviting, forgiving, silly, sweet — the list could go on for miles. i'll never find a love like ours again. i tried but clearly it didn't work out, and it's not the other person's fault at all. i've heard the 'right person, wrong time' saying quite a lot and read about how bittersweet the feeling was, and i didn't doubt it, but experiencing it firsthand is... bittersweet. it's quite bitter at first but after time and healing, realizing that we are without a doubt right for each other takes away some of that bitterness. i'll always have pride in knowing that no one can replace or replicate what we had together. i don't know if there ever will be a right time for us, but if you do ever happen to find yourself ready and willing to open up again, i'll always be right here. there is no one else who is made for me quite like you — you're so special to me.

my favorite memory of us is all of those afternoons and evenings we spent laying in that swing on the porch together. it was like our own little cocoon that we hid away from the world in when things got a little too hectic. it was our safe space, i suppose. we had many talks in there — serious and silly alike — and each one, i felt, tied our purple string just a little more securely. that was when i'd feel closest to you, not just physically but emotionally, too. it was my favorite part of our day and something i could always look forward to even if we did nothing else that day. getting to hold you close, to shower you in the love and affection you deserved, to peek just a little more into your heart, was always the highlight of my day. i hope you know that i'd never taken any of those moments for granted — i know how difficult it is for you to allow yourself to be vulnerable for others and i can't even begin to articulate just how much it meant to me that you felt safe enough to let your guard down, even if it was just for a short time. i've never felt so fond of someone in my life and i hope you never forget that i would do anything for you...

wherever you are right now, resting at home or hiding away in your batcave or laying in a patch of sunlight, i wish for nothing but peace and healing for you. my sweet girl has gone through so much in these past few years, you deserve all the time in the world to recharge and enjoy the little things in life. i hope that when and if you ever do return, you'll at least stop by to say hi to me ~ i promise to come out of my raccoon den to answer you :)

i love you always, lia ~ 💞

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi! I was the person before with earth shattering excitement that you write for Wade and I was wondering if you could write something with a gender neutral partner who has Tourette’s? If not it’s okay! But I have Tourette’s and it’s honestly exhausting. I get a lot of (deeply unwanted) attention because of it so it’s made me mildly agoraphobic and when I am out, I get really anxious, which in turn, triggers my tics more but there was one occasion that I had gone out with a group of friends (two of which I didn’t know very well and one that I had never met before that day- like a friend of a friend kind of thing) but when we walked into a shopping center, it hit me, and without even skipping a beat, the one I’d never met prior, just went ‘FUCK’ back at me and it was honestly so funny because it caught me off guard but because I tend to get a couple of stares, anytime it happened, he’d go out of his way to one up whatever my tic was, which most of them aren’t even swearing (a couple of times, it did triggered it more and one of the things he said has become a long term tic that still occurs) but for the most part, I was too amused to worry about other people and it was a fun outing with minimal anxiety but I was wondering if you could write something similar like that with Wade? But maybe he can tell when it’s getting too much for his s.o because I can’t speak for everyone with Tourette’s but it causes me a fair amount of pain and is just overall draining not just physically but mentally and emotionally too. I know the way that I put it at first made it sound silly, like it’s all fun and games, but it’s not in the slightest. So, maybe it could be something similar, but when Reader starts getting overwhelmed/their muscles start spasming (mine tends to manifest mostly in my neck) Wade completely shifts gears and is really gentle with them. He just holds them and talks them through it and maybe gives them his hoodie as like a sensory comfort thing until it passes and he helps them into a bath. I understand that this isn’t the kind of thing you usually write, so no pressure but it would mean a lot to see such a personal representation with my comfort character. Your writing is stellar by the way, you’re absolutely amazing!

Thank you so much for trusting me with this request, love 💜 I hope you enjoy it!

Centre of Attention || Wade Wilson

Wade Wilson x tourettes!gn!reader 

Warnings: Where to begin...18+ only, nsfw, swearing, canon-typical Deadpool nonsense & violence, injuries (reader & Wade), mentions of blood, fluff WC: 2k

You opened the fridge door and just managed to miss hitting with your forehead as your neck jerked, tossing your head forwards. Your stomach growled once again and you looked for something to eat but what little food there was looked completely unappealing so you closed it a little harder than you meant to, the jam jars rattling as the glass clinked. With a sigh, you pulled out your phone and called Wade, hoping he wasn’t too busy to answer the phone.

“Yello,” he answered happily, “what can I do you for?”

“Free, if you bring me home some food.” You replied before your tongue suctioned to the roof of your mouth and made a loud pop.

“God I love it when you use your tongue like that.” He groaned before shouting. “No, no, not the schlong!”

You heard a gunshot ring out, almost deafening you through the phone and Wade’s pained cry sounded more like he was in mourning than hurt. Your phone almost fell from your hand as your fingers bent to the shape of a gun and you mimicked the shots fired. “You alright there, baby? Bang! Bang!”

“Please hold the line, daddy’s gotta make somebody pay.” He whispered before Angel of the Morning started playing and you put the phone on speaker to listen while you waited for him to take you off hold.

It had just built up to the chorus and you were singing your heart out when the music died and Wade returned. “Goddammit.”

“Lose the…tip again?” You asked with a whistle between your words.

“The tip?” He gasped. “I’m six inches short of a sub sandwich and I have a gaping glory hole that needs to be sewn.”

Wade seemed to lose his dick more than any other body part but thankfully it didn’t take too long to regrow. Still, it had to hurt. You weren’t going to offer to sew his costume again, not after the last time when your arm muscles had spasmed and you pricked yourself with the needle.

“Are you going to be long? I’m, your daddy now, hungry.” You said as your head jerked and you felt the muscles beginning to ache at the repetitive tic.

“You could meet me at Sister Margaret's.” Wade suggested as he plugged the hole where his cock used to be, stemming the bleeding as he left the mangled remains of a cartel behind him. “And could you bring a change of clothes? Mei Mei’s red panda has nothing on this bad boy.”

You didn’t really want to go to Weasel’s bar because the wayward mercenaries usually left you with a few new tics, and some tended to last longer than others, but you found yourself agreeing when your stomach rumbled yet again. “Fine, but no blowjobs tonight.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He lied. “Oh, Dopinder just got here - I’ll see you soon.“

“See you soon.” You could hear the car door shutting as he climbed into the taxi and your hand slapped your chest leaving a burning mark in the shape of your hand. “I love you.”

“I love you more than a finger in my ass.”

“That’s a lot of love.” You laughed before ending the call and making your way to Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children.

Wade had beaten you there my seconds as you saw Dopinder’s taxi pulling away from the curb and you gave him a wave, but not without first raising your fist with your middle finger up. Your tics were already increasing just by being close to the chaotic atmosphere of the bar and the moment you opened the door your head jerks strained your neck muscles. The entire bar turned as you stepped inside, and raised their glasses with a shout of curses - bets laid to guess which would be the first out of your mouth.

Your elbow flew back, smashing into the brick wall behind you, and your eyes blinked uncontrollably with the pain radiating up your arm. You were overwhelmed with their attempts to trigger you and Wade noticed that you weren’t finding it amusing like you had on previous occasions. He slammed his glass down on the bartop with a shout for everyone to shut up and the raucous fizzled out, your palm slapping the already tender skin of your chest once again and a whistle piercing the air.

“Sorry, motherfucker cocksucker.” You apologised as you made your way through the crowd towards Wade as he came to meet you halfway.

“Don’t apologise to these sore losers.” Wade said, before pointing to the wager board that showed he won the bet with your first curse.

“What’s with the fanny pack?” You frowned as you looked at the pouch he wore low on his hips, your nose wrinkling in rapid succession until you felt like you needed to sneeze.

“What, this old thing?” He asked as he unclipped it and you saw the half healed wound that used to be his manhood. “Dee thinks it suits me.”

“Lord Little Dick.” You shouted before clipping the pack back in place. “Jesus, that’s bad. Are you sure it was a gun?”

“Believe me.” He nodded. “I saw that puppy up close and extremely personal.”

You took a seat at the bar where Wade had been sitting while he went and changed into the clothes you bought for him, Weasel making polite small talk while trying to diffuse the outcrops of fighting that arose sporadically. Your boyfriend arrived back just in time to see a steaming pile of something resembling nachos placed in front of you.

“Well that looks worse than I do.” He cringed as he picked up a corn chip that was saggy with a brown sauce of undetermined origins. “I can already taste the Hep B.”

You pushed the bowl away and Wade caught it before your hand shot out again to toss it all over the bench. He could see you weren’t your usual self and he sat down, pulling you between his legs so he could wrap his arms around you and keep your arms tight to your side. You started to relax in his tight embrace, his strength able to keep your sudden muscle tics from hurting yourself even more and you looked up at him with a grateful smile. His own smile grew until your head jerked forward, the crunch of his nose breaking under the force of your forehead, and he groaned as he tipped his head back.

“How come they get to have all the fun?” Patch complained as he pointed to you. “I want to break his nose.”

“Fuck off, Patch.” You growled as you grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the blood running over Wade’s lips. “Bitch ass pussy.”

Your neck twisted painfully, again and again, before Wade forgot about his already healing nose and caught you. “It’s a bit much in here tonight, let's just pick up something on the way home.”

He pulled his hoodie up over his head before draping his arm over your shoulder and leading you out to the quieter streets not far from where you lived. You laughed as he started beatboxing, watching the few people who had been staring at you as you whistled and popped your lips turn their attention to his horrible sounds. He grinned as he heard your laugh, the bystanders already a distant memory thanks to him and his distractions.

“No one gets to outshine Wade-wikiwiki-Wilson.” He boasted as he pretended to scratch a vinyl until he spotted the local pizza joint still open. “Not even you. Pizza?”

You were almost at the point where you would eat anything, except Weasel’s nacho’s, but there was a crowd of drunk people filling the pizza parlour and you dreaded stepping inside. Wade felt his hand get tugged as he found you weren’t following and turned to see your wide eyes riddled with anxiety. It was a small space and you knew you would not hold in your tics long enough to have your order cooked, you knew you would once again be the centre of attention.

Dropping your hand, Wade pulled his hoodie over his head and bared his scarred face to the world. “Put this on, hun, I got you.”

You knew he didn’t like how he looked just like he knew how wearing his hoodie calmed you, this was his killing two birds with one stone - you were calm and they had something more intriguing to stare at. There were a few side glances when you ticked but most of their attention was firmly fixed on Wade as he ordered a Ham and Pineapple pizza for himself before ordering your usual.

You were exhausted as you stepped over the threshold and back into your own safe space, Wade following with the food and a bag of Epsom Salts from the 7/11 on the corner. You helped yourself to the pizza as you dropped onto the couch and listened to Wade singing to himself in the bathroom. You were starting to wonder what he was doing until he popped out and ate half of his pizza in under 60 seconds before darting back into the room.

Your neck was sore but your stomach was full and you were happy that at least one problem had been solved by leaving the house. You curled yourself deeper into Wade’s hoodie, tugging the strings so only a small ring of vision could be seen and his scent enveloped you. It was only when you saw his knees come into that peephole that you looked up, gasping at the sight of his ¾ sized penis regrowing before skipping straight to his face.

“Up, up.” He said as he pulled you to your feet, his hands already reaching for the hoodie and lifting it up your body. “You did so well coming out tonight but now it’s time for you to relax, have a nice hot bath, then daddy’s gonna massage you alllllll over.”

He left your clothes scattered all the way to the bathroom before climbing into the steaming water and promptly jumping back out. “Yup, that’s boiling. Ow, ow, should have checked that first.”

You couldn’t help laughing at his silliness as you ran the cold tap and checked the temperature, the floor getting wet as you splashed the surface at Wade. “Shit, sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” He soothed as he began to massage the tight muscles at the top of your back until you were moaning as he relieved the tension. “You’re so tight.”

“Stop it.” You chuckled as he moaned in your ear and whispered innuendo’s. “Bath’s ready.”

He kissed your neck softly before taking a seat in the hot water, spreading his legs so you could fill the space between. The water was perfect and you could smell the Epsom Salt in the steam, hoping it would absorb into your muscles and ease the remaining tension from them. Wade pulled you back against his chest and cradled your arm, seeing the blossoming bruise on your elbow, and he held it through the tics that twitched along it.

You looked over your shoulder as you felt the throes reaching your spine. “Can you hold me, please?”

He answered with a nod and a kiss to your forehead as he wrapped his arms over yours and around your waist, his legs around yours, the comfort like your own perfect swaddle. “Course I can, hun, anything you need.”

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 5}

I am so excited to share the last part of this story with you.  It means so much to me to be able to share my work and have people enjoy it, so thank you to everyone who has read this little fic.  Huge shout out to the extremely talented @fizzydrink698 for being an inspiration to my writing and an all-around sweet and supportive human.  And the biggest thank you of all to my beta reader, @harry-on-broadway, for being the most encouraging and wonderful friend, without whom I never would have had the confidence to write this, let alone put it out into the world. 💜

Hope you enjoy the finale of Mamihlapinatapai.

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: smut, emotionally abusive parents, usage of degrading names

Rating: Mature

Word count: 6k

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As Soft As Petals  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

It was late into the evening, maybe even so late it was actually early, and you were standing outside the prince’s door, frantically knocking on it.

“Y/n, what’s happened?!  Is everything alright?”

You walked straight into the room, not even bothering to wait for Chan to invite you in.

“It’s my mother.  I can’t find her anywhere.  I assumed she went with a separate wagon party the way she came when we left Lajor, but everyone in the servants’ quarters says they haven’t seen her in hours and I’ve looked everywhere I can think of and - “

“Shh, shh, Y/n calm down, it’s alright,” Chan said, taking your hands in his.  You were full on hyperventilating at this point, your body starting to physically shake with worry.

“I-I just… these past few weeks I almost lost you and then we almost went to war and I can’t handle not knowing where she is.  I just can’t imagine what I’d do if she - ” your voice caught in your throat, unable to bring yourself to say your worst fear.

“I know, I know, but it’s going to be alright,” Chan soothed.  “I’m sure she’s fine and we’ll find her, but you are in no state now to continue looking for her.  Why don’t I ask a few of the guards to keep searching the palace grounds, and I’ll send a rider to Lajor to make sure she would have made it back with us?”

You looked up at him.  “You would do that?”

“Of course, Y/n, this is your mother we’re talking about.  We’ll do everything we need to until you know she’s safe,” he said, guiding you gently with him towards the door, knowing you wouldn’t want to let go of his hand based on the vice-like grip you currently had on it.  He leaned his head out into the hallway, calling for one of the guards stationed at the end and relaying what he wanted done to continue the search for your mother.  All the while you were watching him with an expression of awe and gratitude.  It still surprised you, how he seemed to know exactly what you needed, and even more so that he was willing to do whatever it took to do it for you.  He walked you back into the room, taking the both of you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, still catching your breath from your moment of distress.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said gently, leaning down, his lips ever so slightly grazing the crown of your head.

You felt a shiver run through you.

“Your Highness,” you lifted your head to say something, hoping to avoid talking about what he had just done, but were stopped in your tracks by the look on his face.

“I was actually hoping to see you tonight.  I need to tell you something, Y/n.  And you might not like what I have to say, but I can’t keep denying it for the rest of my life.  These last few weeks have shown me that I can’t take anything for granted, so I intend to stop right now.”  He paused and stood up, giving you room to stop him if you wanted, but when you remained silent he took that as permission to keep going.

“I’m in love with you.  I think I always have been.  I’m in love with the way you hum that same silly tune to yourself when you’re doing chores.  How you can read a map of any terrain, how you’re not afraid to correct me when I make a mistake while drilling our sword fighting techniques.  I’m in love with the smile you get on your face when you ride through the woods and the way your hair looks when the light shines on it through the trees.”

You were aware your mouth was slightly open, your eyes staring at Chan like a dumbstruck deer, but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the words he was saying.  You’d always known you still had feelings for him, and could only dream he reciprocated those same feelings.  But hearing him say all the little things you didn’t even notice about yourself, hearing him say he loved you for those things, your mind was at a loss for what to do.

“I love how you care for our people, how you always have their best interests at heart.  How you would be willing to never speak about these feelings I know we both share so as to not jeopardize your ability to serve me, to serve them.  But most of all I love that you see me.  Not the statesman or the fighter or the ruler, just me.”

You made up your mind then.  To hell with the king’s threats, with the questions your mother had asked you about responsibilities and sacrifices.  You had been making the greatest sacrifice of all for the last sixteen years, but no more.

You launched yourself at him, his arms wrapping around you immediately and your lips meeting his.

It was somehow exactly like that night five years ago and nothing like it at all.  You’d both grown in experience since then, having had other partners over the years.  Your lips moved smoother against one another’s, and it was more passionate than it was gentle.  But you felt that same feeling of euphoria glowing inside you, knowing that you were here with him and he was here with you and you were both finally admitting to what you’d always felt but never dared to acknowledge.  You felt yourself sinking into him, willing to let the tide of his love carry you away if it meant you could stay in this moment forever.  Your lips parted from his, Chan titling your head up to look at him.

“I need to hear you say it.  I need to know that you love me, too.”

You took his face in your hands, willing your voice to convey how sincere you were.

“I love you Chris.  I love the way your hair is always ruffled in the morning and that you sing to yourself when you think no one can hear.  I love how you take three cubes of sugar with your tea instead of two.  I love your determination to better yourself and your dedication to better your people.  I love that you have always treated me as an equal.  I love your dimples and your eyes and the way you make me feel safe when my hand is in yours.”  You brought your thumb up to wipe away a single tear that was sliding down his cheek, his eyes shining as he listened to your words.  “It has always been you, Chris.  It will always be you.”

He smiled then, that same blinding smile that had bound you to him from the day you met.  He kissed you again, then began moving his lips down the side of your neck, your head tilting back to allow him more skin.  His hand reached back and in a few quick motions the laces of your bodice were loose enough for your dress to fall off your shoulders.  He kissed downwards over your chest, and your breath hitched as the dress moved lower and lower, eventually dropping to the floor, leaving you almost bare for him.

Your hands came up to thread through his hair as you mocked, “You are entirely too clothed for my liking, Your Highness.”

At that, Chan whipped his shirt over his head, exposing his soft skin and toned abs, then pulled you to him, tone light but face serious. “I never want to have to hear you call me that ever again.”

“Chan,” you laughed, lightly smacking his chest, “what we’re doing right now is staying confined to this room; I’ll still have to call you that in front of everyone else.”

“Fine,” he all but growled, “I will settle for never hearing it in this room.  For now.”  His lips returned to pressing featherlight kisses to your jaw and found your sweet spot below your ear.  A sigh escaped your lips as Chan lifted you up and placed you under him on the bed, your hands roaming over his shoulders and back as he shed the rest of his clothes and removed the final layer separating you from him.  You could feel his hardness against your dripping core and you looked down, holding in a moan when you saw how big he was.

“Ah ah ah,” the prince purred, “I don’t want you to hold anything back tonight.  I have waited so long to have you like this, and I want to hear every sound that falls from your lips.  I want to know how good I make you feel, Y/n.”

Even if you’d wanted to, you couldn't hold back the sinful sound that left you as he brought his mouth to suckle and nip at your breast, his hand reaching down to rub the pads of his first two fingers against your heat.  Slowly, he increased the pace and the pressure as he kissed down your body, bringing his head between your thighs.  You moaned when you felt his tongue lick a long, languid stripe up your core, then brought your hands to tangle in his hair as he stroked small circles against your sensitive bud.  Desperate for him, you pulled his head back up to meet yours, back arching as you whimpered, “Please Chris.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and slowly pushed in, the feeling of him against your walls far better than you’d ever imagined.  Being this close to him, feeling his cock reach places inside you you hadn’t known could feel this good, the intimacy was almost overwhelming, so you clung to him, reveling in the feeling of being with the man you loved.

“How did I get so lucky?” Chan was whispering, praises falling from his lips.  “Fuck Y/n, you’re so beautiful, an angel, my perfect girl.  Taking me so well, like you were made for me.”

“I was,” you breathed out, “all of me is yours Chris, only yours.”

His thrusts increased then, both of you teetering on the edge of your highs.  You captured his lips in another burning kiss, sealing your love as the ecstasy coursed through you both.  You laid there for a few moments, relishing the weight of his body on yours and the quiet sound of his heartbeat.  Then Chan rose and fetched a cloth to clean you both, your body already starting to succumb to the pleasant exhaustion.

When he returned to the bed you heard his voice whisper one last I love you before you drifted off in his arms.

Runaway  |  Kingdom of Miroh, 28 years ago

The girl had been running for two days.

She’d prepared her knights and her attendant, told them the story she’d fabricated for them to repeat, and paid them handsomely for the trouble she was surely causing them.  Her parents would be frantic, but eventually they would mourn her and move on.  The kingdom would survive without her; in fact, it had to, because she knew nothing would ever make her return, force her to take on a responsibility she never asked for nor wanted.

Only five more miles to the border, she thought.  Then I can start over, be whoever I want to be.

By the time she reached the marker for Gu, she could barely stay upright, having taken as little rations with her as she dared.  She wandered across, hoping some small border town would be close by where she could eat, maybe get some rest.  After another few miles some buildings started to pop up, small cottages and what looked like a market and an inn.  The girl squinted at the prices on the inn’s sign, trying to remember the conversion rate of the currency she’d brought with her.

“Hey!  I saw you come in to town; you look a little lost.  Can I help you find anything?”

The girl realized the voice was talking to her, and turned to see a boy about her age, maybe seventeen, tall with shaggy brown hair, looking at her curiously.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the boy said.  “It’s just… you seem to be having a little trouble reading the sign and I-I’m uhh... pretty good with numbers; I could help you, if you’d like?”

“Oh umm… yes… p-please… thank you.”

The boy walked closer, the girl showing him the money she had so he could count out the equivalent of the price.  “So, is your family visiting from Miroh?”

The girl balked at his perceptiveness.  Despite all her planning, she hadn’t thought about what she would tell anyone when they asked for her story.  She tried to come up with something quickly, stumbling over her words.  “Umm no, m-my parents are… they’re uhh… they died.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry to hear that,” the boy said, looking at her sympathetically, and the girl felt like he really meant it.

“Well, umm, here’s what you’ll need for a night’s stay here,” he continued, handing her back the money.  “If you want I can show you a good place to eat that’s close by; you look like you could use a hearty meal.”

Despite knowing him for all of two minutes, the boy seemed trustworthy.  And he was right, she could definitely use some nourishment.

“That sounds nice,” she answered.

“Great!” the boy said, stepping down from the inn’s doorstep and walking towards the village center, the girl following.  “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.  What’s your name?”

“My name’s Julietta.”

Revelations  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

You awoke, startling for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings until you remembered what had happened the previous night.  Smiling to yourself, you turned in the sheets, expecting to see Chan laying beside you, but you were met with emptiness on his side of the bed.  You frowned, scooting over and feeling the spot still warm from his body.

He must have only just left, you thought.

You glanced over and noticed a small note sitting on his bedside table, letters written in his artful penmanship.  You picked it up, eyes running over the words.

Good morning my love.  How I wished to have you wake up in my arms, but I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.  I’ve gone to speak with my father about something, and when I return, the whole kingdom will be able to hear my name spoken by your beautiful voice. 

A wave of dread washed over your entire body, threatening to pin you to the spot where you sat.

Chan knew his father could be cold, knew he was a callous man who cared for little more than his own self-interest and what he deemed acceptable.  But you knew he’d always believed maybe he could change the king, could open his heart to the same degree Chan and his mother had shared.  You, however, never saw the man through such rose-colored glasses, having been the recipient of his threats and intimidation too many times to believe he could be redeemed.  And your beloved prince was about to find out the true depths of his father’s loathing towards the relationship you shared.

You sprung into action, body moving without thinking as you dressed in last night’s clothes and ran from his chambers, heading to the throne room.  Maybe you could reach him in time, spare him the pain of hearing his father’s rejection.  You’d have to convince him you didn’t want to bring your relationship public, and he’d be hurt, devastated, but it would be nothing compared to the anguish of what he was about to bring on himself.  Or the punishment he was about to unknowingly inflict on you.

Chan was nowhere to be seen in any of the hallways leading to the throne room.  Your feet moved faster, desperately trying to prevent what was about to happen.  But when you burst through the thick oak doors, you saw Chan kneeling at his father’s feet.  Both men looked up to face you, Chan’s expression one of blissful optimism, his father’s one of knowing anticipation.

You were too late.

“Hello, Y/n,” the king said darkly, mouth morphing into a sneer.  “You already know what he’s asked me, don’t you?”

“Your Majesty… please...”

You shuddered at the sound of your own voice, tone betraying your agony, your fear.

“You never told him, did you?” he questioned, the trace of pity in his voice making you all the more uneasy.

“How could I?” you sighed.

The king nodded contentedly, then motioned for the guards on either side of you.  You felt their hands capture your arms, body going all but slack in their hold.  You couldn’t find the strength to fight anymore.

Chan had stood up and was now looking frantically between you and his father.  “What is the meaning of this?!” he asked, tone laced with bewilderment and shock.

“I’m sorry Chris,” you murmured, heart breaking at the look on his face.

“Christopher,” King Bang said, standing and approaching his son, “do not fear.  I will take care of this disobedient whore and then you will be free of her influence.  I should have never let her remain for as long as I did, look what it has done to you, my ingenuous boy.”

You felt it, the moment Chan realized what his father was implying.  His whole body shifted, backing away from Geun as he spoke, voice void of emotion.

“What did you just say?”

For once the king seemed genuinely surprised, eyebrows raising and voice the tiniest bit unsteady as he answered, “I-I mean, certainly that’s the only reason you would ever come to me with this request.  Clearly this woman has convinced you to denounce what I’ve taught you about tradition, about knowing one’s place, through what means I dare not say; but I don’t blame you Chris, this is my fault.”

Chan stopped moving then, having almost reached your side.  His face contorted into an expression of dismay, of grief, as he shouted.

“Are you really so ignorant, so far removed from reality, that you think my actions are a sign of disloyalty?!  Of neglecting my responsibilities?!  Because they are nothing of the sort.  And even if they were, Y/n would not be responsible for convincing me to do anything.  Your outdated principles and misguided sense of your own virtuosity could have done that on their own!  You were blind to a plot happening in your own palace because of your desire to have me bend to your will, but I won’t let you do it anymore.”

He turned, ordering the guards, “Release her, now!”

“You will do no such thing,” the king’s enraged voice rang out.  “Christopher, you will never get my permission for this.”

He turned back to Geun, eyes furious but voice calm.

“I was not asking, father.  I will marry her.  And I am not betraying you, or our kingdom, or our traditions.  And I’m not doing it because she seduced me.  I’m doing this because I love her.  Because she supports me, and cares for me, and knows our people intimately, probably better than I do.  And because, for my whole life, she has been the only person besides Mother who has ever truly loved me for who I am.  So you’ll have to throw me in prison too if you intend to stop me, because I refuse to be here without her.”

“No!” you yelled, straining against your captors, energy rushing back to your body at his words.  “No, Chris please, you have to let me go!  I’m so grateful we had last night; it was the best night of my life and always will be.  I knew the consequences I might face, and getting to tell you how much I love you was worth every one, but you were never supposed to suffer because of me.  I can’t let you do this.”

Your pleas were interrupted by a herald entering the room.

“Your Majesty - ���

‘WHAT?!” King Bang whirled on him, outrage blatantly evident on his face.

While the king was distracted, Chan shoved the guards away from you and took your shaking form into his arms, cradling your head against his chest.  “Y/n, you’ve protected me and sacrificed for me my entire life.  Let me be the one who takes care of you now.”

His whispers stopped when you heard the announcement of the herald.

“His Majesty King Peter Soleil of Miroh is here with his wife, Queen Margaery, as well as one of our palace servants, Julietta, Your Majesty.  They are insisting on an audience with you.”

“Your mother?” Chan questioned, meeting your equally confused face with his own.

The king glanced to where the pair of you stood, rolling his eyes obnoxiously.  “Fine, bring them in.  Let these two have their last embrace before I rid us of her presence.”

The herald opened the doors, and there stood your mother, dressed in a beautiful gown you could tell was made for royalty.  She entered, followed closely by the king and queen of Miroh.  You’d seen them a few times over the years at various palace functions.  They seemed like steadfast and benevolent leaders, reflected in their small kingdom’s reputation for nonviolence and generosity.  In fact, the only turmoil you could remember them being involved in was the disappearance of the crown princess, several years before you were even born.  Not much was known about the circumstances of the disappearance, but it was said the king and queen had never given up hope of finding her.

They came to a stop in the middle of the room, the sovereigns flanking your mother.  Looking at the three of them, you couldn’t deny the resemblance of your mother to the elder two people, and a memory stirred in the back of your mind.

“King Peter, Queen Margaery,” King Bang addressed them tersely, “I would say I am pleased to see you but I am at this moment engaged in a personal matter and would like very much to return to it.  If you could please explain why you have one of my palace servants here with you playing dress up, I would appreciate your cooperation.”

“Certainly,” came King Soleil’s placid reply.  “We are here on a personal matter as well, one that Julietta, and indeed Y/n, are involved in.”

Chan’s arms tensed around you, preparing to defend you against any allegation, any harm or threat or danger to your wellbeing.  But, as had happened once before in that very room, no one was prepared for what the Mirohan king said.

“You see, Julietta is our daughter.  Almost thirty years ago, she left our kingdom, because she felt trapped in a life we had not prepared her for.  Her mother and I should have supported her, should have taught her to confide in us, but we were very different people then, and different rulers too.  We would have done what you are attempting to do to your son, forced her to betray her own self to mold to our will.  However, when she left, we saw how wrong we were, and vowed to do better.  Now, Julietta has come back into our lives for the sake of her daughter, our granddaughter, Y/n.”

Every set of eyes in the room was trained on you, your own frozen wide in disbelief at what was happening.  King Bang seemed to be at a loss for words, having fallen back into his seat on the throne.  Your mother left her parents’ side and walked to you, smiling tentatively.  Chan reluctantly released his hold on you as she took your hand and brought you to stand with her away from the others.

“My dear, I know how much of a shock this must be to you, and I am sorry, so very truly sorry for never telling you,” she said quietly.  “But I was ashamed… When I ran away, I did what I thought I needed to do at the time.  Looking back it may have been reckless, irresponsible and selfish even.  But most importantly, it had been my choice.  And I took that from you, the ability to choose what path you wanted in life.  I thought we would be better off away from the life I grew up in, and for a while we were, with your father.  But when he died, I was adrift and had no idea what to do and somehow we ended up back in a palace and at the whim of an arrogant king, but this time without even an inkling of the power I once held.  I thought about returning with you to my parents then, but how could I be sure you wouldn’t resent me for forcing you into the life I had tried so desperately to escape?  I struggled with my choice for years, until eventually I saw that you were happy with your training with the prince, getting to do all the things you used to do with your father that would have been scorned had you been the one in the boy’s position.  But then I saw the signs of your feelings for him, your realization of the insurmountable barriers that would prevent you from being together, the way you resigned yourself to unhappiness.  I knew I could do something about it, but I had to be sure you were ready to accept the responsibilities that would come with having the ability to be with the man you loved.”

You looked up at her, recalling your conversation at the coronation, and she nodded.  “I am sure now.  Which is why I went back to Miroh, back to my parents and the position I despised a lifetime ago.  Because if I can give you the ability to make this one choice, maybe I can make up for all the other mistakes in my life.”

“Mother... “ you started, wanting to tell her you understood her choices, that you didn’t think they were all a mistake, but were quieted by her hand on your cheek.

“I know you are quick to forgive, just like your father, but let me take responsibility for this.”

You looked back at your grandparents.

“They won’t force you to accept,” Julietta said.  “That was my one condition.”

Your head was spinning with the onslaught of new information.  Searching the room, your gaze locked with Chan’s, reading the utter adoration in his eyes that you knew mirrored your own.  You knew his father would never accept your relationship at your current status.  And despite feeling confident you wanted a chance to make an impact as a ruler, you didn’t know everything about what it would mean to take on this responsibility.  But there was one thing you were absolutely certain of.

You turned back to your mother, squeezing her hand.  “Thank you.”

She led you back to the group, your hand linking with Chan’s as you came to stand beside him and your grandparents.

“We are aware of the young people’s affection for each other…” King Soleil began, but King Bang seemed to have recovered himself enough to realize what the other was about to say.

“That girl will NOT marry my son!”

“Geun,” your grandfather warned, “that girl is my granddaughter, a Mirohan princess.  I strongly suggest you watch your tone when you speak about her in front of me, or anywhere for that matter.  Now, it was already quite unreasonable to want to prevent your son from marrying a woman he loves, but it would be wholly irrational of you to deny a match for the prince to the heir apparent to the throne of Miroh, wouldn’t you say?”

You stood up straighter, feeling Chan’s hand tighten around yours.

The king was silent for a while, but finally gave an acquiescent sigh.  “Very well.”

The two of you smiled but kept your composure, bowing to the king and turning to your grandparents.  They pulled you both in for a hug as you thanked them, saying they were eager to get to know their new grandchildren, and your heart skipped a beat at those words.  You didn’t hear anything else after that, your focus entirely mesmerized by Chan who was pulling you towards the door, your pace quickening before breaking into a run as you left the castle, heading for the stables.  You rounded the building first, then felt him reach around your waist as he gathered you in his arms and spun you around, laughing his brilliant laugh and pulling you close to him as he placed you back on the ground by the pond.

“Does this mean I have to call you “Your Highness” now?” he asked, giggling at your stunned face from the use of the term.

You playfully put your hands up to shove him, but he captured them in his own, kissing your knuckles and bringing your palms to rest on his chest.  You could feel his heart beating as you knelt your head to meet his and heard his soft voice ask.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

You had never been happier to say yes.

Epilogue  |  Kingdom of Gu, 1 year later

You were standing in front of the mirror, your mother behind you pinning your hair into an extravagant twist when a joking voice came from the door.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  You turned to see the smiling face of the queen of Lajor.

“Korenna!” you exclaimed, dancing happily in place, too afraid to move while your mother continued her styling as your friend came to sit next to you.

“You look stunning, Y/n, truly.  Chris is going to lose it when he sees you.”

Chris, your mind echoed lovingly.  You’re marrying Chris today.

“And how come I don’t get a hello from my favorite little princess?” you teased.

“Paige is a bit preoccupied practicing her petal tossing abilities with her Uncle Felix,” her sister responded.  “She definitely has the upper hand in technique, but I’m not sure who looked cuter in the flower crown.”

“Speaking of flower crowns,” your mother said, turning you to face her, “Chris left this for you.”

You looked down at her hands where she held a sealed letter, on top of which rested a single wildflower.

Your mother saw the tears prick in your eyes and started to gather up her things, motioning to Korenna.  “Let’s give Y/n a moment before the ceremony while we - Oh! Your Majesty, my apologies, I didn’t see you there.”

You turned to see King Bang milling awkwardly at the entrance of the room.  Putting the gift from Chan down, you ushered your mother and Korenna out then came to sit in front of his father.

The two of you had avoided each other as much as possible over the last year, which hadn’t exactly been hard since you had moved with your mother to Miroh to catch up on all the instruction you’d missed these past twenty-three years.  You’d seen him at the Four Kingdom Competition and at various dinners and balls, but Chan always made it a point to keep you as far away from him as possible.  You weren’t going to complain about it to your fiance, but you’d almost wished he’d let the two of you talk, tension clearly still lingering between you.  And though this visit was unexpected, considering you were going to be family after today, now seemed just as good a time as any.

“What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”

“Actually, Y/n, I-I came here to apologize,” the king said, his voice sounding almost as taken aback as you felt.  “I have spent my whole life avoiding saying that phrase, but I realize now you are one of the few people I feel I really must say it to.”  He took a deep breath before he continued.  “I’m sorry for the death of your father, I’m sorry for my insults and threats over the years, and I’m sorry for trying to keep you and Christopher from being together.  I had no right to try to do that, whether you were noble-born or not.”  He paused, and you could tell it was getting harder for him to keep his voice steady.  “After my wife died… I had this blind rage I felt towards everyone, but especially towards you, and when I finally took the time to analyze it, I realized I had been jealous.  Jealous of your skill and your talent, but mostly jealous of my son’s devotion to you.  This year has shown me that I was wrong to think his love for you would turn him away from me or his responsibilities; in fact, his happiness at being with you has only strengthened our relationship and made him a more present, more thoughtful ruler.  So I came to apologize, and to thank you for bringing the light back to my son’s eyes.”

You were stunned, but grateful, and the king seemed to read that in the expression on your face.  “You don’t need to say anything,” he said, standing up and heading for the door, “I just wanted you to know.”

You stopped him before he could leave, placing a hand on his arm.  “Thank you.”

He nodded and shut the door, leaving you alone.  You turned your attention back to the envelope on the desk and gently opened it, unfolding the paper in one hand and holding the blossom in the other.

Y/n,

Since the beginning, my love for you has grown like the roots of a flower.  Even on this day, we are but tiny buds, only just beginning to sprout.  I look forward to every day we’ll spend in the garden, tending to our love until we reach full bloom.  And just as flowers slowly fade, may we grow old together, enjoying the memories of those sunny days when we used to ride through the meadows we planted.  Know that my love for you will remain long after our petals are reclaimed by the earth, my beautiful wildflower.

Yours forever,

Chris

You held back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, placed the flower in your hair behind your ear with trembling hands, and walked out to meet your mother standing at the entrance to the courtyard.

She took your arm in hers as you made your way to the aisle.  You saw Minho and Felix on the right, both grinning from ear to ear, and Korenna and Paige on the left, the younger’s sparkling dress and tiny braid matching the elder’s.  And in the center you saw Chan, looking to be on the verge of tears, but his blinding smile on full display.  Your mother walked you to him, your gown glinting in the light of the setting sun.  He took your hand in his and held it while the priest recited the hymns and blessed your marriage, pronouncing you husband and wife.

Later, while the celebration was in full swing inside the ballroom, the two of you made your way out to the balcony.  He took you into his arms, both of you swaying to the music floating out on the breeze.

“You look breathtaking tonight,” Chan whispered.

“You told me that earlier, Your Highness,” you responded, wiggling your eyebrows at the term he used to hate, recalling the conversation you’d had the first time you shared a dance on the balcony.

“I know,” he said smiling, catching on to your words.  “I wanted to tell you again.”

You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him before whispering, “We’re married.”

“I know that too,” he responded, the two of you giggling and bringing your foreheads together.  He reached up to tuck your hair that had come loose behind your ear, revealing the flower, and you let the feeling of peace wash over you, knowing you had a lifetime together.

“I love you, Chris.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

{end}

[drunkcodicier]

Book update: finished Death of Integrity and listened to Sons of the Selenar so big review incoming. Spoilers as always.

Death of integrity: I was cackling through the whole thing at how ridiculously blood angel the blood drinkers are like they really go overboard on the emotionally tortured vampire thing and I love them for it. I’m gonna need Mephiston to write “chaos gods for dummies” and datalink that to every damn successor cause this is getting old y’all are embarrassing me. If I had a dollar for every time a blood angel or successor got played by chaos cause the demon looked a bit too much like daddy then I’d be able to personally bankroll another great crusade. I promise the vampire space himbos mean well they are just dumb, sad, and misinformed. The novamarines having completely accurate criticisms of the blood drinkers is also hilarious. Really liked the novamarines interesting chapter culture with the whole tattooing thing. Ultramarine successors continue to be “guys being dudes: in space” and I enjoy that. Of course the star player is the thing that shows up at the end. Only wish it was around for longer to taunt the silly imperials a bit more. Overall lots of space hulk bolter porn sprinkled sparsely with plot. If I didn’t like blood angels or ultramarines this would probably be a pass or tbh just read the last few chapters. 7/10 cause it was fun I’m easy to please.

Sons of the Selenar: Renaming this book to The Sysipheum's Bizarre Adventure. My god the feels. Really loving the raven guard and salamander boys I have come across. Iron hands can be kinda annoying but the three shattered legions compliment each other and the level headed former captain. Love how the guy almost died and they just tape him into spare dreadnought parts. Nykona Sharrowkyn is built different, I like that kid. I guess I have to read Angel Exterminatus next to hear about him and his silly adventures a bit more. Wouldn’t be me without continuing the trend of reading shit out of order. Another great audiobook. My exact reaction to the last line “mannnnn fuck you.” 8/10 @ black library, the space marines need more robo pets. More pets in general, give my big space men little fluffy animals you cowards.

Up next: Sigismund: The Eternal Crusader and Magnus’ primarch book which I’m about halfway through already. And Angel Exterminatus I guess.

Meme for visibility cause I know no one cares about my wall of text review rambles

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2590

the family cookout was.

well.

not good.

my grandmother who is a pain in everybody's ass started talking to me and didn't fucking stop.

she asked why joel was there.

"joel doesn't like people."

"that's too bad, for you."

"why? i don't like people, either."

"really?!? i had no idea."

"yeah, i'd rather be in my room."

"i had no idea, i always thought you loved being the center of attention."

"nope. i just got really good at hiding it."

and then she didn't fucking leave me alone. she kept pestering me about how she always thought i was so happy and had lots of friends.

"no, gramma. i didn't have friends until about two years ago. i was bullied my entire childhood."

she was so surprised. why. because she never fucking opened her eyes? fuck off, old woman.

and then she asked me what i wanted to do for a job and i told her i wanted to be an astrophysicist. she of course equated it to being an astronaut. which, yknow, is the real dream, but i can't be one.

"i don't qualify."

"why? is it because you're a woman?"

"it's because i have depression."

no, you misogynistic asshat, it's not because i'm a woman. it's because your fucking family cursed me with bad mental health and bad eyesight.

so let's recap. my grandmother has:

made me talk about the fact that i don't want to be there

and continued to talk to me anyway

reminded me that i was bullied my entire fucking life

and then implied i was less than a man

WHILE STANDING RIGHT IN MY FUCKING FACE.

this woman crossed so many of my boundaries i fucking left. i went inside and i stayed inside. i said goodbye to no one.

my mom said to me later, "i couldn't tell if you were having a good time talking to her or not."

me, internally, "it's because i can mask really well."

she said, "if you ever need me to rescue you from her, look at me and tap your nose."

me, externally this time, "if you ever see her talking to me, i don't want to."

i fucking hate my grandmother. she is a pain in my ass and a thorn in my side and i would be so much better off of i didn't have to deal with her. ever again.

jesus christ.

ANYWAY.

i went to go see shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings with joel and his family after the fucking fiasco at home. it was really good. i also counted the number of white people in it who were main or recurring characters. there were no white main characters. there was one white recurring character, and he was romanian. so overall, the american white people count is at a big fat zero. which was really fucking nice.

but seriously. it was really good. plot, characters, action, no romance. it was good. you get sorta-awkward wildly attractive best friends on an adventure with the main guy's sister. so good. SO good. it's a movie about family and connecting to your heritage as much as it is about legends and MCU elements and stuff, and it was a really beautiful blend of artistry of all kinds.

definitely recommend seeing it. i'll likely see it again. it deserves it.

anyway, after the movie, i wanted ice cream, so joel and i went on an adventure in search of ice cream. we went to moo's; they close at 8 on weeknights. sad. i ask joel to check hayward's; they're open until 9, and it's quarter past 8 at that point so we were good to go. we made it there and got ice cream and enjoyed it in the parking lot.

on the drive to merrimack to hayward's, i thanked joel for coming with me on this adventure, even though i ended up going the wrong way. he said i could've dropped him at home, and i said, kind of in a tiny voice, "but i know i said i wanted ice cream, and i didn't want you to be disappointed by not getting some."

he said something that kind of surprised me, even after all this time.

joel said, "i didn't come because i wanted ice cream. i came with you because i wanted to spend time with you."

which gave me pause. we've been dating for almost two and a half years, and it still is weird to me for someone to want to spend time with me.

and then he said something like, "it's like i like you or something. a little bit. silly."

which also caught me off guard.

fuck. i'm gonna have so much material for christine next week.

but it was nice to spend time with joel. he's not an emotionally verbose person, so it was odd to hear all of that, but i gotta say? it was really nice. weird, but i guess i needed it. do i still need it? should i ask joel for more reassurances? i don't want to be that person.

anyway.

also, the one saving grace of the cookout earlier was the fact that i got to talk to FF almost the whole time. it was so nice!! they sent me an updated selfie with the newly redone hair, they sent me pictures of her puppy who is still an angel and i love her, and we talked a little bit about the incident in the discord, and then a bunch of random things, but it was really, really nice to spend time and just talk with them again.

buuut yeah. i think that's all. good day, minus the grandmother. yeah.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 5) Hell

In this part of the plot of the game and Novel several things are happening at once. The scene I felt was most relevant to our MC is the scene I picked. 

This scene is not in the game. Please enjoy.

Chu Zihang coughed low in his throat next to Caesar and that man’s killer’s aura subsided. You could finally breathe again. You weren’t upset with Chisei Gen and you had nothing against him. You barely knew him at all. Caesar Gattuso just had a bad habit of getting emotionally invested in every single person he came across and that’s why you were here, disguised as Hydra Executive Bureau members, helping Hydra move -- while at the same time, being surrounded by armed guards who would shoot you full of holes and ask questions of your corpse.

Chisei Gen was here with Masamune Tachibana and were talking in Japanese while observing the moving process. You keep your eyes low, maintaining that careful methodical pace that would make sure that you all got on the elevator with the fiftieth box so you could leave to escort that shipment and escape.. 

Caesar successfully got on the elevator and the operator yelled “HAI”. As the elevator descended, you caught the sharp flash of Caesar’s blue eyes, as though, with that look, he could slash the man’s throat.

Next was Chu Zihang. It would take ten more minutes of work for him to get on the elevator and Mingfei was getting a bit distracted. He was interested in what Chisei and Tachibana were talking about, being the only one who spoke Japanese. While reconnaissance could be handy, the survival of the team was more important. If you survived, you could come back. So you approach him where he is dawdling and lightly nudge him with your elbow..

Chu Zihang successfully boards the elevator. He gives you a two fingered salute as he descends down the shaft and disappears.

You’re next.

Working steadily, you pass by Lu Mingfei. “I want to say I’m sorry.” You murmur in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you… and tried to hit you. That was wrong.”

Mingfei looks at you with a confused expression. “No… I messed up. I almost ruined everything.”

“I’ll explain later…”

“HEY YOU!”

 Both of your heads look in the direction of the voice. A man in a dark windbreaker was gazing directly at you! Your heart stills. He’s saying something in Japanese but you can’t understand.

“He’s telling you to put the box down and follow him. He has another assignment for you.” Mingfei is looking at you with a face full of tragedy. “Little Sister…” He whispers. “Please don’t die.”

You smile at him and take his hand and give it a squeeze. “It’s okay.”  You whisper and turn away to follow the man in the black windbreaker. You give a sharp bow in front of him. He presses a button on the elevator that you came in on, and it opens. He hands you a small brown paper bag and gestures that you should get in the elevator alone.

Your mind is racing. Caesar and Zihang were already gone and there was no way to get in touch with them. They would just wait for you expecting you to come down the elevator. Lu Mingfei would have to tell them what happened. Knowing Caesar, he wouldn’t leave the place without you and would probably search the building and continue to risk his life and everyone else’s lives! You had to find another way to get to them.

You turn around to face out of the elevator and don’t let your emotions show. Lu Mingfei is trying to work, but he’s pale, terrified and alone. You smile calmly at him as the door of the elevator closes.

From the moment the elevator door closed, the screen showing the floor you were on suddenly went out. The lights and the music in the elevator shut off. All the floor buttons were disabled, and the word "HELL" lit up in red above the door. 

Your heart rate jumps and you try to press the door open button but it’s too late! You’re already descending, and fast!

You try every button but nothing works! Finally, you look up through the ceiling. Just as you’re thinking about escaping through the top, the elevator slows, and the lights come back on.

The lights reflect off the bronze doors like a mirror. Behind your reflection is the fuzzy reflection of a human shaped shadow. You reach for your pistol extremely fast, but a strong grip takes hold of both your wrists.

With a mighty twist, the person in the reflection turns you around, shoves you against the elevator doors and presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss!

Your muscles jump and you try to escape, but his scent fills your nose. You recognize his hair. You go from resisting him, to embracing him and pulling him closer.

Z. 

How did he get here? Where did he come from? You want to ask, but he doesn’t allow you to speak. He kisses you as your knees buckle and your back slides down to the elevator floor. When he finally lets you go, he smiles, watching you tremble filled with a strange tingling you don't understand. There is a satisfied glint in his golden eyes. “Good. I wanted to make sure I got to you before those other idiots did.”

You catch your breath for a moment. He was dressed smartly in a suit and patent leather shoes over his bare feet. A black serrated army knife was on his belt. He rested one hand over his bent knee, crouching in front of you. As always, that clever smile that hid an inside joke was on his delicate features. He really did look quite a bit like Lu Mingfei. But you decide Z is much more handsome. But you were alone when you got into the elevator. How did he get here?

“How do I know you're really here and this isn't a dream?” You ask.

His eyebrows raise. “Is this the type of dream you would have of me? You’ve grown up…”

You huff with amusement. “I’m serious. Lu Mingfei has proof of his guardian angel. I want one, too.”

His eyes travel the length of you and his smile fades. “I’m no guardian angel. But if it's proof you want...” He leans forward on his hands and nuzzles your neck tenderly. But then at that moment he bites down hard and you cry out in pain.

 When you touch where he bit you, your hands come back with a small streak of blood on them. Z licks his lips slightly. Your heart beats faster and you feel a bit dizzy. You’re drawn to him far more than any of the ‘idiots’ on your dating game show. “Z… I think I love you…”

He wrinkles his nose. “That’s because you don’t know any better. I’m always curious. How does a human know what exactly ‘love’ is? You could throw yourself body and soul at them and they reject you. Or you can bite them and they call it love. It’s silly.”

The elevator continues to descend and you don’t know how to answer him. “I just want to be with you.”

“Then just say that.”

“Where are we going?”

He smiles again, showing his teeth. “Hell.”

You roll your eyes. “I know, stupid. I mean in this elevator.”

He chuckles, a little birdlike.”Ke-ke-ke…” and again you delight in making him laugh. He sighs and settles next to you. You’d dropped your brown paper bag and he handed it to you again. “Here. It’s food. Eat it. You’re going to need it.”

Inside, is an apple and a small sandwich labeled “egg sando”. It was good and suddenly you feel your hunger roaring like a beast. As you devour the food, he reaches up and gently runs his fingers over your hair, much like you did to the little black kitten in Chizuru.

At the bottom of Genji Heavy Industries, deeper than the Iron Dome Shrine, in absolute darkness, a deep red "ならく" is lit up, which is an elevator light. 

The word "ならく" is an exotic word derived from the Buddhist scriptures. Naraka is the deepest part of hell, the infinite fall of the void. The evil spirits in Naraka can never return to the human world, but experience an eternal fall into a bottomless pit.

The elevator door opened. You and Z, two black shadows, walked into the darkness where no one could see. Except for the faint sound of the ventilation fan turning, there is only dead silence here. 

The wall ahead suddenly lit up. The giant wall seven or eight meters high emitted an eerie blue light. A closer look will reveal that it is actually a huge water storage tank. The wall is a glass made of hundreds of pieces of glass of about one square meter, between the glass is a narrow metal frame. Above the water storage tank, a several meters in diameter turbine and filter is installed. The volume of this storage tank is comparable to the giant fish tank in an oceanarium built to house manta rays and whale sharks. The general water supply pipeline simply can not provide enough water, so it takes water from the sewer. Sewage filtered into this storage tank, and then pumped away with the turbine when the water was changed, re-entering the Iron Dome Temple system. 

The two of you lie on the ground under the glass wall, the blue light illuminating your faces. Z’s posture is reclining upright on his elbow, like those Greek boys carved in alabaster in the Parthenon, from a certain side he looks rather feminine, but from your angle he looks handsome like a young god. You’re lying on your back, looking up at him, staring into those golden eyes.

“Someone once said that the aquarium is one of the top places to go on a date.” He said, stroking your hair.

“Is that what this is? Odd timing…” You murmur.

“Well, you are a very busy woman and many men are looking at you now. Caesar Gattuso jumped in the rain from the top floor of the dorm into a moving convertible to stake his claim. Am I supposed to wait until the mission is over for me to make my move?” 

He was right. For as much as the Takamagahara Star-Heart contest glorified looks, money, and pure carnal instincts, what pulled you to Z was the sense that he would stand over you and snarl like a lion. Once he had you, no one would be able to take you away.

“It’s just a show, Z. Are you being jealous?”

“I’m communicating… that’s what this is.” He pressed one finger to your forehead in an odd gesture. “Anyway, the date's over, we have work to do.”

You sit up. 

“Use your Soul Skills. We are at the deepest roots of the Heavy Industry Building down here. I need you to cause an earthquake for me. Go for Magnitude 7 or 8.’

You’re silent for a moment. LIke any high level skill, it required considerable amount of practice and skill to wield without causing enormous amounts of unnecessary damage and death. Chu Zihang’s Royal Flame could be wielded like him, in various ways, like pottery in his hands, but he could only control it so much. Without injuring himself and others.

S-Level Skills like yours not only could cause excessive levels of death and destruction, but also came with sequelae, side-effects to the user. In order to create a Magnitude 7 or 8 you would not escape these side effects. But you would do your best to minimize them.

You place your hands on the ground and focus, slowly working your spiritual energe through the floor, through the meter thick slab and down into the bedrock formed by millions of years of heat and pressure. As it goes, so does your mind. The ground becomes like a skin, and you can feel the rubble of the subway, and the rush of the fierce waters in the Iron Dome in a steady vibration. A golden color lights up your dark eyes like a the headlight of a motorcycle in a tunnel that eventually fills the space until its entirely glowing yellow. 

Z  peeled off a piece of gum and stuffed it into his mouth, facing this empty water storage bin. He was not anxious at all. The sound of rushing water came from the depths of the water storage bin. Some kind of large aquatic animal swam at high speed, leaving a series of swirls with its long tail. The boy fished out a laser pointer from his sleeve, and after opening it, a red laser dot appeared on the glass wall, which cat owners often use to amuse kittens. The boy slowly moved the laser pointer. The light drifted, and gradually attracted the attention of the aquatic animal. It swam closer and closer. There was not one, but a group of large fish. The big fish put their heads against the glass wall, staring at the red dot. 

Their faces were so pale, they looked like floating corpses that had been floating in the sea for dozens of days. 

The group of fish with human faces peered through the glass at the human world, some expressionless, others with mouths turned upward, seemingly smiling. 

They are not all the same. Most have long tails and scaly armor, some look like sphinxes with animal paws or have uncanny organs attached to them. Some have huge sharp claws and knife-like bony fins, and, when they breathe, the cracks at the base of their necks open up to reveal deep red, gill-like structures. 

The boy turned his wrist slightly. The sphinxes twisted their bodies delicately, chasing the dots of light and swimming fast, like a group of obedient pets. The entire tank stirred and a dark golden skeleton came up from the bottom of the tank. The shape of the skeleton was between human, fish and flying birds. It was obviously the same kind of sphinxes. It seemed that these sphinxes do not mind eating their own kind when they are very hungry, and the dark golden skeleton is covered with teeth marks, as if cut out with a logging axe. 

Z turned off the laser pointer and approached the glass wall. The sphinxes that had lost their chase scattered. 

The size of the tank is almost equivalent to a small underground lake in the rock formation. The filtered groundwater is still clear, but once the sphinx swims far away, it is no longer visible. Only a smaller one was left, swimming in the waters near the glass wall, still seemingly trying to find the mysterious spot of light. The boy pressed his palm against the glass wall, which was half a meter thick from the reflection of the glass, and was made of huge glass tiles. 

Your Soul Skill has reached depth. Earthquakes were typically created when two broken slabs of continental plates floated on currents of magma, collided, and pressed together until the pressure was too great and then they slipped. There were many such faults in Japan. The skill was to find the one that would create the right amount of slip in the right location, and at the right depth.

Forcing an earthquake was like forcing open a stuck door. You leaned into it, gradually increasing the pressure against it to force it to move. If the door was inclined to move anyway, it wouldn’t take much force and the slip wouldn’t be too great and the earthquake would be small. But to create a great earthquake was to reach the limits of your control. Only a well stuck plate could create something like that. You had to force great pressures on the plate and, when it finally moved, it was like a door swinging open uncontrollably. It would be easy to turn a 7.0 earthquake into an 8.5 earthquake by accident.

You could jostle Genji Heavy Industries… or you could destroy all of Tokyo, depending on results you could not predict. In order to best guess how to apply pressure you had to increase the spiritual roots in the ground to make sure you had maximum sensitivity. And therein lie the danger to you. It was like burying your mind into the ground, your brain. If you poured enough of your thoughts into the earth, then you couldn’t be aware of your surroundings. You might lose track of how much brainpower you have dedicated to the task and little by little, the ground would suck your mind dry of thoughts and Caesar would find you in the depths of Genji Heavy Industries, completely braindead.

The sphinx pressed its face against the glass wall to observe the boy's palm, and then its appearance became clearer and clearer. It is actually a female with long dark hair, a deathly pale but beautiful face, with faint traces of minimally invasive plastic surgery between the eyes and eyebrows. 

"You were beautiful," Z said softly, "when you were still alive." 

Pretty only in that face, the sphinx was deformed from the neck down, the lower half of its body fused into a python-like tail, the remnants of its feet vaguely visible. 

In the mythology of the world, this image of the sphinx repeatedly appears, from the ancestor of mankind, Fuxi Nuwa, to the Three Emperors, and  Five emperors of the Taihao. Emperor, "Zhuangzi" was seen by the Duke of Qi Huan in purple clothes wearing a vermilion crown shaped like a half man and half snake. In the "Shanhaijing" there are multiple mentions of a  "human face with a snake body and red, straight eyes.” The god of Zhong Shan, ZhiYin, the so-called "Naga" in Sanskrit, the so-called "Medusa" in Greek mythology, and even the group of snakes whose names have been lost in the Mayan pantheon ...... 

They are between gods and demons, symbolizing seduction and ultimate mystery. Mythologists still find it difficult to explain why such monsters appear so consistently in various myths. If they could take a look at this "beautiful" monster, they would understand that their ancestors had indeed witnessed similar things crawling, swimming or lunging in front of them. They were so hideous that they could never be a species that God would make, but only a joke played by the Devil on man. This impression was like a lightning bolt that exploded in the minds of the first people, and they passed it on from generation to generation as a myth. 

Z lit up the laser pointer, the point of light appeared in the heart of the forehead of the sphinx, like a bright vermilion mole. The sphinx's ghastly white face was suddenly lit up. If you didn't look at the ghastly lower half of the body, it could be described as charming. It stretched out its deformed claws to grab the red light in the glass wall, although its claws are hard, but only in the super-hard glass scratching out a toothsome sound. However, it couldn’t grasp the red dot! Suddenly, became furious, and issued an inaudible roar at the young man. Its huge mouth opened to reveal sharp teeth as dense as thorns. This is when you can clearly see it's horrible mouth structure. On each side of its delicate cherry lips is a barely discernible slit extending to the ear. When it opened its mouth as if the entire cranium opened! 

"You're getting ugly like this." Z said.

The sphinx's hiss lasted only a few seconds. The giant claws coming from behind dragged it back to the middle of the tank. 

Z extinguished his laser pointer and watched the killing in silence as a dozen sphinxes surrounded and killed the smaller of their kind. They bite down on their prey’s body parts, swinging their long tails wildly, using tremendous twisting force to tear the prey apart. The prey and predator together formed a strange fleshy flower, a demon flower with snake-like petals, each one twisting and swaying as red blood smoke rose to the water's surface. 

"How ugly, this world." Z said faintly, his face devoid of sorrow or joy. 

You finally make your choice and your eyes glow in the dark. You open your mouth and let out a loud moan, as though you were giving birth and push! You push harder and harder and your cries grow louder and louder!

A soft popping sound ran through the entire glass wall from top to bottom, the metal frame supporting them twisting and distorting rapidly. The feeding sphinxes also noticed the change in the glass wall and swam over, leaving their bloody food behind, as if the prisoners had heard the iron prison door slam and would have looked in the direction of the door in unison. Glass wall is shaking. First, a huge glass tile fell where water pressure topped out against the metal frame, then more glass tiles fell off. Each is a square meter square and half a meter thick. Pushed by the force of several tons of pressure,  water sprayed out through the gaps more than ten meters away.

Z produced a white silk handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed the sweat forming on your forehead with gentle touches, like a husband comforting his birthing wife. “You should protect yourself.” He says softly.

You grit your teeth and nod. A thick wave of soil and rock smashes through the meter thick slab and rolls over you both to form a barrier.

 A few seconds later this transparent wall completely collapsed and tens of thousands of tons of water broke through the dam, carrying an unknown number of sphinxes with it.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Party in Pentious’ Parlor - roundabouts Oct 24

In which Angel (@sluttyspiderpolkacock) and Alastor come over to Sir Pentious’s (@hiss-and-vinegar​) and Valera’s (@autokrates​) hotel room for a little hangout/party. Which is interrupted when the eggs that Valera’s been carrying decide now is the perfect time to escape.

Things get very exciting and dramatic for a bit there, especially considering that the eggs aren’t even fertilized.

Highlights include: Angel and Alastor getting invited, respectively, to be Valera’s babe of honor and Sir Pentious’s best man; Valera repeatedly going This Is Fine :) while laying fucking eggs; Alastor deciding teleporting a bunch of booze bottles into midair and letting them crash on the carpet is a great idea; Angel getting all emotionally invested in a bunch of eggs before learning they’re duds; and Sir Pentious fainting in the bath tub.

Valera

Party in Pentious' Parlor is go! Alastor was set to bring snacks, but Valera had prepared drinks for the evening in advance. A few bottles of various alcohols had been set aside, alongside chilled water and a few juices to either enjoy on their own or for mixing purposes. One last look around, hands on her hips. Drinks, check. Entertainment... Some ASMR videos and an eclectic assortment of movies they could fall back on if the music wasn't enough.

Yeah, that seemed sufficient. This wasn't a proper soiree with the nobility, no need to break out the band. A waggle of her fins, and she drops down on the couch, the door to Pentious' suite opening at the flick of her wrist. Prrprrprr

Sir Pentious

Ah, excellent. A party! Sir Pentious didn't sit around doing nothing, he was at the very least helping set things up and throwing Eggbois out of the room.

Valera looked close to bursting and he'd be redamned if he'd let her fall down or something equally as embarrassing. Tail support whenever necessary. Once everything was all set up, he coiled up by the couch, chin resting on his hands as he lay his elbows on himself.

"THE PARTY LOOKS EXQUISITE, MY DEAR."

Valera

Throwing out the eggbois was a monumental task in and of itself, there was always another one popping out of a drawer wearing Val's bra as a headpiece.. Or maybe that was just the one time. Either way, the room was sufficiently cleared for the evening, and that meant Val could take this brief privacy to reach over and slide her hand into Pentious'. Once they had proper guests, he'd most likely try to maintain a bit of distance, so. Best to get her sappiness in now.

"Couldn't have done it without your help, dearest. Are you excited?"

Sir Pentious

"I SUPPOSE I AM! WILL I GET TO SHOOT ANYONE THIS TIME AS WELL? NYAAAA HA HAAAAAAA!"

Nothing like an incredibly loud maniacal laugh right next to your head. Pentious ASMR. His fingers glide over the ring, and he *beams*.

Valera

She snorts, scooting closer to press a kiss to Penny's cheek. Hard to imagine a time when that cackle had been enough to startle her out of sleep. She barely even noticed it now.

"You're not allowed to shoot Angel Dust. Alastor is at your discretion. But if you do, warn me so I can start recording."

Sir Pentious

He's grinning so wide, "FROM THE CONVERSATION THAT WE HAD BEFORE, I DOUBT HE'LL DO ANYTHING THAT COULD WARRANT MY SHOOTING HIM!! HE SEEMS TO WANT TO REMAIN ON HIS BEST BEHAVIOR AROUND ME! WHICH I AM FINE WITH, I DO NOT HAVE TO WATCH OVER MY SHOULDER."

He will anyway, because he's Sir Pentious.

Valera

"He's certainly desperate to befriend you, love. Though actually, that does remind me. In the interest of not having this party go the way Broadway almost did.." An unpleasant memory even now! They'd talked after, sure, but he'd been so upset. The guilt lingered for *weeks.* Her hand squeezes his, tight as she dares.

"I'm going to need you to set the boundaries here. I'll follow your lead, but. Some kind of structure to fall back on would help. Obviously I'm not going to try and straddle you in the middle of the party, but. You know." A wiggle of their clasped hands. She's not sure even THIS would be alright!

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is watching her with his big wide eyes, watching all of her gesturing and fin flicks. What?? Oh.

He waves a hand, "I AM FINE WITH CONTACT. AS LONG AS ANGEL DUST DOES NOT TRY ANY UNTOWARD ADVANCES ON MY PERSONAGE, THEN I WILL NOT RAISE A FUSS."

Valera

That was both reassuring and completely not helpful at the same time. A sigh, and she smiles at him, a glint of mischief entering her eyes.

"Alright, got it. Drape across your coils and hang off you like a designer scarf."

Sir Pentious

"IF YOU INSIST."

He shrugs! Look at him, this man is socialized to his fish wife. He's really to have a party!!

Valera

Oh. That wasn't the reaction she'd expected. She's caught a bit off guard there, but she manages to dull her reaction down to a nonplussed sort of stare instead of an outright sputter. A few weeks ago he'd have stared at her _aghast_ at the very _idea_ of the faintest whisper of PDA.

"Oh. Well, alright then! I'd expected-- Nevermind." She clears her throat, shifting to sit up properly. "Come here then. I'm not going to make my fiance sit on the floor in his own suite. I'm sure the couch can handle both of us just fine."

Sir Pentious

He slowly uncoils himself, sliding up onto the couch and leaning her head to his shoulder.

A few weeks ago, he hadn't proposed. He was *flying.*

Valera

Well wasn't this nice? Look at him go! From barely tolerating a hand hold to _manually placing_ her head on his shoulder. Not that she'd resisted in the slightest, her arms had wrapped around him the second she clued in on what he was trying to accomplish. Is this fiance privilege? Must be. Gods only know what he'll decide to okay when they're actually married.

Prrr..

Alastor

The party don't start until the Radio Demon walks in because the Radio Demon is the only guy in Hell who always shows up to a party with snacks, and not crappy snacks like a single bag of chips. And also because as far as the Radio Demon was concerned the party did not actually exist until he was present to observe it.

"Hello~! Now, look at this—THIS is a room to have an event in! My! When you check out, we'll have to leave it like this to hold special events." He set a large tray covered in tiny sandwiches next to the drinks, and then poured himself some juice. Gotta have a glass of something in his hand. "That plate on the top right has Veci meat, by the way—I believe both of you had a hand in getting that to me?" He nodded to Valera and Sir Pentious.

Valera

Now, normally Valera would extract herself from Pentious the second she caught the faintest hints of static in the air. But with this sudden shift in boundaries, and the level of comfort she's at? She doesn't even move beyond raising a hand to wave hello to their first guest of the evening. If anything she lays herself out further, giving her fiance a little squeeze as she flashes Alastor her most winning smile.

"Ooh, I'll have to try those later! Glad you could make it, Alastor. Come have a seat, we've just been chit chatting about what we've been up to the last few days. Katsu's been doing his damndest to stress me out, it seems."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is a happy snake! C: What a good smile. At the sight of Alastor, he perks up a little more, his hood opening just a touch and he wiggles his talons in the deerman's direction. Ah! Meat of that shark-like veci that Penny shot to death at the first ever party he'd been to with Valera's people. What a fun evening that was.

Angel

Failing to show fashionably late would've been such a movie star faux pas, especially for the most ( in ) famous porn actor in all of Hell. He wasn't irresponsible, however, as he too touted platters and platters of baked goods he'd ( compulsively ) spent the last 24 hours baking ( of his complete and total free will ) . Six of them. A rather ambitious balancing act for the ways his bones begged he BOOGEY, but if nothing else, he was a Pro.

" VALERA ~ ! BABY ~ ! " Angel belted a dramatic entrance as a pop of his hip bumped the door fully ajar. " Good ta see ya! " A nod to each the other gentleman as he set the breadths of his labors beside the other snacks. " Tell me if I'm wrong, but I believe THESE are ya favorites? " He kept the last plate on his person to bring to the lounging couple, a flourish of frosted silver upon their laps. Saving himself the potential conflict of planting a kiss on Valera's forehead, he saluted back to Alastor.

" Ya get dibs on the muffins, Smiles, since I know ya liked 'em ~ "

Alastor

Oh what was Angel doing with snacks? Alastor was to be the snack supplier. Hmph.

On the other hand: more snacks. And Angel's got to do something to offload his recent surplus, Alastor supposed. "Very generous!"

He grabbed a muffin, pulled up a chair near the couch, sat, and replied to Valera's comment. "That's your... nephew, isn't it? Why, what sort of trouble is he getting himself into?"

Valera

If she hadn't been wrapped around Pentious, Valera would have flung herself at Angel, eggs or no eggs. Alas, she must settle for beaming up at her favorite spider as she takes one of her, oh yes, _very much_ favorite treats. "Darlin', I'm so glad to see you. Wouldn't be the same without you here!"

Give her a moment while she devours a snack, _then_ she can turn her attention to Alastor, settling back down against Pentious to _bask_. "The very one. The silly boy thinks he has to use his power to try and fix everything he sees." A pointed raise of her eyebrow at the radio demon. Oh yes, she knows. "Negotiating with demons, throwing himself into danger.. You know, the average hero complex."

Sir Pentious

Oh Angel was here. Sir Pentious' head does that Cobra-esque head movement of sizing someone up as the spider-demon walks in, holding platters of snacks. Hmm! Those would have to be investigated, though for the moment he was content to remain here with his tail slithered all around the couch. He is Looking.

"A FOOLISH LAD, INDEED. WASTING HISSS TIME ON A HERO COMPLEX, HE COULD BE TAKING MATTERSSSS INTO HISSS OWN HANDSSS TO CRUSH HISSS ENEMIES AND NAYSSSAYERSSS."

He's looking up at Angel, still, though the comment was not pointed towards him.... and then he's kind of looking away... What does one SAY to Angel Dust without provoking him or being provoked in return? Hmm. A thought comes to mind! "SSSO! WHAT KIND OF FAVORSSS AM I PRIVY TO, ANGEL DUSSST?" Oh, that part.

Angel

Deepset chuckles reverberated his fluff as he draped his long limbs over the far end of the couch, an idle hand affectionately twirling a strand of Valera's hair. " They ain't SPIKED or anythin', Pen! Ya have my word I wouldn't be doin' that ta y'all ~ " he responded with a fingergun followed by a sneer, " Unless, a course, ya wanna cash in that favor I owe YOU fa layin' off m'boss. THEN we can 'ave us one a MY parties! "

His many eyes glazed over the display as he trailed his snickers. Protein was probably a safer bet than all the carbs he'd inadvertently been loading upon himself. He quickly realized how increasingly WEAK he became for good food the more time he spent at the hotel. Moderation. He'd be fine with moderation. Angel easily reached across the spread for the smallest sandwich to painstakingly nibble on.

" Youse gotta do-gooder nephew? " he asked through pursed lips, " I... think I seen 'em. If he's doin' any DEALIN' though, can't 'elp but think a the usual resident suspect ~ " Angel bobbed the toe of his crossed leg in Alastor's direction. " So. What's my nephew-in-law been gettin' into? As resident drunk uncle, I'm obligated ta know an' give some super sus' advice. "

Alastor

He makes a mental note of which sandwich Angel went for; if he's gonna keep their hotel guest fed, he's got to know what he eats, doesn't he?

He shrugs off the accusation. Making deals with someone's nephew? Certainly isn't him. "Yes, do tell! You're going to have to unpack this 'do gooder' idea a little more for us! You see—in the part of the mortal realm where I came from, making deals with demons is the exact opposite of what a hero does."

Valera

Valera adjusts her position slightly, tail curling around to loosely drape over Angel Dust's waist. Affection for affection, who wouldn't appreciate having their hair played with by the prettiest spider in the joint? It was either that or a glorified seatbelt in case Pentious tried to shove him off. Either way, it's a *heavy* tail. "Oh you wouldn't believe it, Angel Dust. The boy's... Eighteen? Nineteen? And thinks he has to help everyone. Complete bleeding heart. That's only started getting shaken now, since his fool of a mother made a bad deal with Alastor and paid the price for it." A pause, and she nods towards Stick. "Not this one, I mean Match."

She sighs, eyes rolling. "I can't comment on the morality of dealing with demons, but. Apparently he thinks it could work out as long as he negotiated his terms better than she did. And he isn't *wrong*, necessarily, but why make a deal in the first place? Like Penny said, he's already powerful enough on his own without a demon's help."

Angel

" Ah, poor kid. I remember kids, but they were Forty-Two Gang kids. Not so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ya nephew sounds... unless ya can count a fuckin' fix fa murder bright-eyed an bushy-tailed. I GUESS ya can... " He thought hard, more so mouthing a sliver of meat than having intention to chew and swallow. Yet.

" What's he tryna' get outta dealin' wit' a demon? Some fine print ta hilight? A loophole ta wiggle through an' give the basta'd a taste a their own medicine? If he's got any fresh takes on double crossin' the likes a the devils, I'm gonna 'aveta hit 'em up. " Dare he say he's been trying to do just that with his own deal he'd been trapped in for the last... eighty years or so...? No. He couldn't be doing that. What he did need was a drink. Angel placed his once-bitten sandwich on a napkin and went for an entire wine bottle as the thumb of another hand gently stroked Valera's tail for comfort. For anchoring. As they spoke, he was already hitting the clouds.

" He bein'... careful at least? Careful as ya can be when dealin' wit' a- ah fuck it. " Angel took out his phone as he took a long swig. " I'm givin' 'im a talkin to. What's his url again? "

Alastor

Paid the price, hah. Alastor would say it was his alternate who paid a price for her dissatisfaction with her bargain—but he supposes he's just a little bit biased, isn't he?

"Sounds bright-eyed and busy-tailed to me!" Alastor sees why Angel likes those kids. Heck, Alastor kinda likes them now and he hasn't even met them. "So, when you get right down to it, Katsu's motive is less heroism and more of an ego trip? Mommy makes a mistake and her baby boy wants to run out and do the exact same thing, just to prove to her that he can do it better?" Alastor scoffs. "How disrespectful. Childishly so."

He glances at Angel's barely touched sandwich. "I brought a half dozen different types if you don't like that one."

Valera

A shrug, and she squeezes her tail a little tighter around her legitimate and befluffed spider spouse. "Stolen-Godhood, Angel. With a hyphen. The url is literal, but he's a sweet kid. Fair warning that he'll call you uncle given the opportunity, he's big on found family."

Valera glances to Alastor, somewhere close to amused. "All he told me was he wanted to try to improve things. If that's an ego trip, it's an unusually selfless one. Though I think if I were his age I'd be inclined to do the same thing. Proving that you can do better than your elders is part of the standard teenage angst!" She squints, reaching out for a pair of sandwiches. One for herself, the other to drop into Pentious' hand. "..Though I think he'd fit in pretty well with those kids of yours, Angel. He's already offered massive violence on my behalf and *really* wants to steal the wallets from all my guests."

Sir Pentious

Oh! Excellent. A sandwich for Sir Pentious. He was going to have to get up for one but now he doesn't need to move, other than to lift the snack to his mouth and begin nibbling away. Mostly he's just been listening to this conversation about his foolish nephew that he did not know all too well, but one that seemed to desperately want to be close to him.

Found family, hmn... "DOES KATSSSU NOT HAVE ANYONE ELSSSSE? I ALWAYSSS THOUGHT MEREDITH LOOKED RATHER YOUNG TO BE HISSS MOTHER, BUT I AM ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY OR SO YEARS OLD, SSSO WHAT DO I KNOW?" A big grin, his eyes squinting into amused half moons before he turned to look over at Alastor, gesturing with the sandwich in hand.

"THESE ARE GOOD!"

Angel

" N-no! They're good! Ditto's ta Penny! I'm just, uh, pacin' m'self. Gotta keep this body flawless, ah ~ ? " he sang with another long swig before finally allowimg the bottle to dangle off the edge of the sofa, " I'll, er... try 'em all... " A lie? A wish? Not even he could tell, but he found himself distracted by a flurry of anonymous messages offering him affections.

" Uncle Angel's got a nice ring to it, " he mused, freeing his third set of hands run along the smooth, satisfying surface of that gorgeous tail, " Those lil' buggers are prolly runnin' around somewhere down 'ere, but if they ever found ME out, SHIT would I 'ave some fuckin' PROBLEMS on m'hands. Yeah. They'd get along wit' ya nephew, alright. TOO FUCKIN' WELL. Nothin' about the wallets. They could EAT the fuckin' rich fa all I care, but I wouldn't trust 'em not ta get on Big V's bad side. Can't go... RISKIN' THAT. "

Oh would you look at that, the bottle's empty. He needs another. After placing the empty glass down beside the leg of the sofa, Angel reaches to do just that.

Alastor

“I can think of few goals more egotistical than to decide one has both the authority and the ability to shove one’s way into everyone else’s problems, fix everything for these poor helpless strangers, and then go home to congratulate oneself on one’s heroism.” Alastor shakes his head, tisk tisk. “Someone who truly wants to help asks HOW to help—and you didn’t mention this nephew of yours asking. On the other hand, someone who just barges in only wants to flaunt what a good person he is. Just another way to stroke off an overly-engorged sense of self-importance.”

Alastor beams at Sir Pentious. He’d hoped so! “I can give you the recipe.” It isn’t far off from something Sir Pentious himself might bring to a picnic, in Alastor’s opinion—soft bread, meat so tender it nearly falls apart—but pizzazzed up.

He waves Angel back when he sees him reaching for the table. "No no, allow me!" He's not getting him more wine. He's getting him one of each sandwich. That's what you said you wanted, isn't it? Isn't it, Angel? "These rapscallions of yours sound fun! If you do run into them, bring them by the hotel!"

Valera

Valera hums, resting her head on Pentious' chest as she thinks back. Did she have any spicy backstory? Not specifically, but if he followed the same trend as the others she'd known... "I think he got disowned by his biological family? Possibly for protecting a woman from being accosted by a drunk politician, but I'd have to ask for specifics." A shrug, fingers tippy tapping up to grip her fiance's shoulders as she pointedly side-eyes Alastor. "I could be off base, but I think that's what happened. Having a criminal record in Japan can ruin your life. Assault charges against a man in power? Even worse."

But that was neither here nor there. "Regardless. I'd be very sad to see a bunch of bratty kids get on the bad side of any Overlord! Keep a few eyes out, my dearest Angel. I'm sure Charlie would love to get her hands on them." Another affectionate squeeze, muscles rippling under Angel's hands as he strokes along her scales. Oh, but she purrs. Too bad she can't reach the sandwiches without getting up, she's eyeing the Veci flesh hardcore.

Angel

Angel zones out a few, processing the things Alastor says. He was right. To his surprise. His words sounded like they came straight out of some self-help manual the resident lesbian hotel staff kept insisting he read. Which he totally has. In a hypothetical world where he had x-ray vision.

Valera was also right. He couldn't be letting ANYTHING happen to those kids. He'd have to do so under his boss' radar. Can't have THAT sort of reputation hitting the elite, right? Right? Everyone was SO right. It was overwhelming. WHERE WAS THE WINE? HE SWORE IT WAS THERE-

OH, this was very WRONG. Angel finally came too at the sight of a full plate in front of him. His eyes widened and sparkled like the post Extermination sky, but his brows steeped with guilt. Nonetheless, he mustered a teary grin. He couldn't be rude. He'd have to. For many reasons. Most apparent was the hint of drool and all but immediate pleading of his bowels to Get A Grip. He compromised by offering Valera the Veci sandwich out of Alastor's selection. That was the one he started with, right?

" I'm... gonna have to, " he relented with a drag of his sights to the adjacent corner of the room as he took another bite from a sandwich at random. His expression reacted with bliss. " I wouldn't TRUST THEM ta their own devices soon as their hypothetical stake down 'ere hits reality. It comes ta that, I'm gonna be countin' on y'all. "

Alastor

He shrugs off the side-eye on the grounds that he knows he's said and done nothing to warrant it.

Well, if Valera wants the Veci sandwiches, they should say something! Alastor can lean over, grab the plate, and offer it to—oh, Angel got to it. Alastor gives Angel a sharp look for giving away his food; but he started out with that flavor, didn't he? He'll let it slide. Instead Alastor serves himself one and offers the plate to Sir Pentious, want one?

"If they are down here, they've most likely been dead for decades, haven't they? I'm sure they can handle themselves as well as anybody can by now." Angel might have known them as children, but that isn't what they are anymore, not a chance.

Valera

Luxury was a fancy little sandwich being handed to you while you lounge on your man's chest. She accepts the sandwich with a cheerful wiggle of her fins, and a moment later it's gone.

"Mmm! Delicious, you'd never guess he was so insufferable in life. Fine work, Alastor." A pause while she shifts her position again, a hand moving down to rub her stomach. Maybe that was enough food for now, her innards were complaining. "I assume you've heard all about the soiree by now, yes?"

Sir Pentious

*Politicians.* Ah, that would do it, wouldn't it. SIr Pentious doesn't have much to contribute to the conversation, mostly just watching the others and petting Valera's hair. And then he's kind of being addressed again! More sandwiches!! He will happily take the veci meat kind, and bite into it. Mmmm... murderous intent.

"I HADN'T TOLD HIM HOW IT HAD GONE--IT ssssSLIPPED MY MIND."

Angel

Since when was the Radio Demon the angel on anyone's shoulder? He nodded reflectively and sunk back into the sandwiches. They really were good. He could easily absentmindedly eat the whole plate before realizing what he was doing- oh there went HALF.

Alastor

Alastor perks up at the mention of the soirée. "I keep meaning to ask for the story, and we keep getting on other topics instead." He turns away from Angel now that he's sure he's eating and focuses his attention on Sir Pentious. "I've been dying all over again to hear the bloody details!"

Valera

Oh good, Angel was handling the sandwiches without her help. Thank goodness for that! Maybe between the three demons, they could actually clear a platter, bunch of skinny old men that they were.

Valera looks at Pentious in mock offense, gasping ever so daintily as she presses a hand to her cheek. "All this time and you didn't tell him? Well you'd better get to it before I do, my dear. I doubt anyone but Angel would want to hear *my* version of the story."

Sir Pentious

"IT DID NOT COME UP AND I DIDN'T REMEMBER TO TELL HIM!!! AS I SSAID, IT SSLIPPED MY MIND!" Something something old man. Anyway, he sits up straighter, splaying his talons against his chest as he begins to recount the tail, "VALERA INVITED ME TO ONE OF HER PEOPLES' PARTIES! SOME FANCY TO DO, THAT SsssORT OF THING. I KNEW THAT THAT ONE MAN, THE SSSTEWARD THAT HASSS BEEN PESSSTERING VALERA SSO, HE WAS AN ENORMOUS BRUTE OF A FELLOW. HE REALLY MADE A POOR FIRSSSST IMPRESSION, YOU SEE, AS HE CONTINUALLY REFERRED TO VALERA AS 'RUNT' TO HER FACE! AND TO MINE."

Sir Pentious produces his cane--where was he keeping that--and holds it up, "SO I WARNED HIM NOT TO INSSSULT VALERA, FOR SHE WAS BETTER THAN HIM, AND TO NOT INSSSULT ME, EITHER. HE CONTINUED TO DO SSSO.... AND SO, I DID WHAT ANY GENTLEMAN WORTH HISSSS *SALT* WOULD." With a press of a button, the cane transformed into that automatic tinkertoy looking rifle, "I PRESSED THE MUZZLE OF MY RIFLE AGAINST THE SIDE OF HIS HEAD AND BLEW HIS ssssssSKULL APART! NYAAAA HA HA HA HA HAHAAAAAAAAA!"

Alastor

"Oh, I'm sure your version of the story is plenty fascinating," he tells Valera; but yeah, he wants Sir Pentious's. As evidenced by the fact that as soon as Sir Pentious starts telling it, his attention is totally riveted—complete with his invisible studio audience providing oohs, aahs, and applause where appropriate.

He nearly scoots off the edge of his seat when he leans forward to inspect the tinkertoy rifle-cane. "Did you make—? Well, of course you did, what a stupid question! Clever, very clever!" Can he hold it? He wants to hold it. He's half reaching for it like he's just waiting for an invitation to touch it. "Was this the kind of party where committing a murder to defend the honor of one's betrothed is encouraged, or did you two have to beat a hasty retreat?"

Valera

Valera had been content to let Pentious tell the story, but Alastor's questions were enough to have her snort, blurting out a response before she could think about it. "What, you think I'd have to run from my own party?! In my own--" Ahem. She clears her throat, laying herself back down.

"Apologies. Don't mind me. Go on, dear."

Sir Pentious

Oh Alastor is doing the grabby hands. Sir Pentious eyes him a moment before handing the weapon off. It's not loaded anymore, anyway.

"NO NO, WE DIDN'T RUN. IT WAS VALERA'S COURT. THEY COULDN'T *TOUCH* ME. WOULDN'T DARE! I MADE THEM ALL MY--".... Sweats. He clears his throat, "I MADE THEM *QUITE* AWARE OF WHO I *AM*. THEY WERE ALL *QUIVERING* BEFORE MY MIGHT!! OHHH, IT WAS *INVIGORATING.*"

Alastor

“Well, how should I know! On Earth, if a world leader’s fiancé murders someone during a state party, the party’s overrun by police and journalists and that’s the end of the event; in Hell, the same act would probably garner polite applause.”

He eagerly claims the cane and starts examining it, turning it over in his hands and holding it close to study how it re-folds itself when it switches between rifle and cane. Oh, what a beautiful piece of work. He’d love to try this out, see whether the gimmick has taken away from any of its efficiency as a gun...

What did you make them, Sir Pentious? All your what? Go on, Alastor would love to hear. Look at that smirk of his, and it’s getting wider. Whadja make ‘em? “A first impression they won’t soon be forgetting, I’m sure! Pity I didn’t get to see it—you are a sight when you’re performing for an audience!” He’s a sight to see at any time. Go on, keep preening. “No doubt they’d never been in the presence of a bona fide supervillain before.”

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious is really basking in this praise and attention. Look at him! He's petting his talons down his hood, his eyes are closed as he smiles. Oh, he is bad and he knows it!

"THEY ARE TOO USED TO THEIR MAGIC, IT SEEMED. MY MACHINES ARE A COMPLETE *MYSTERY* TO THEM, AND WITH MY FIRST VIOLENT ACT, I WENT FROM MERE PALACE RUMOR TO *FEARSOME LEGEND.* AH, IT WAS LIKE MY LIVING DAYS, THOSE FINAL YEARS! UNTOUCHABLE AND POWERFUL! NO ONE COULD COMPARE TO MY MAGNIFICENCE!!!" He takes Valera's hand, and presses a kiss to it. There's a ring there! "I WON'T HAVE ANY MEMBERS OF THAT COURT INSSSULTING MY LOVE TO MY FACE, OR BEHIND MY BACK. THEY WILL BE DEALT WITH SSSSWIFTLY."

Angel

OH. There's a RING NOW! Angel takes to it with a similar but respectfully distant interest as Alastor took to the cane. He stretches over his now empty platter a little. _He wants to see it, TOO..._

Alastor

“And no one’s ever going to compare, I’m sure! A bunch of too-proud magicians who don’t know what to do in front of a few pieces of cleverly constructed steel—not all that different from down here, is it?”

It’s why Alastor’s convinced that Sir Pentious is the only wanna-be conqueror with a shot at the throne: in terms of magic, the strongest sinner will never equal a fallen angel—but the most sublime, secular human virtue is the capacity to invent machinery that far surpasses any mere mortal’s strengths. Sure, John Henry beat the drill machine—once—but imagine if he’d been running it. And imagine if Sir Pentious had designed it.

For a second there Alastor got so caught up in this man-overthrows-the-devil fantasy that he almost misses the new ring. (It only briefly squeezes his heart.) So that IS what Sir Pentious was robbing a jewelry store for. Alastor knew it.

... He teleports another sandwich onto Angel’s plate while he’s distracted.

Valera

Ah, looks like Angel's caught on! Valera purrs, eyes squinting up as she glances over to her totally legit spusband. "Ah! Yes, we never told them, dearest. Here, Angel, admire my love's workmanship." She pulls her hand away, turning her head to give Pentious a quick peck to the lips as she extends her hand out for the local spider to get a good look at. Oh yes, it *is* shaped nontraditionally. An eel curled around her finger, woven through tiny holes pierced through the webbing to twist in a dramatic shape.

She is looking VERY smug about this. She's been DYING to talk about this since he proposed.

Sir Pentious

Yep. This man's ego is being inflated so much he'll probably float away at this rate. And now everyone was looking at the ring that Valera was wearing.

"I DESIGNED *AND* CRAFTED THAT NUMBER MYSsssSELF! ONLY THE ABSsssOLUTE BESSST FOR MY WIFE."

Angel

" Holy shit that's BLINDIN'! " Angel exclaimed with drama dialed to eleven. He quickly jerked back upon realizing he made himself a fluff sandwich. Nonetheless, the show went on as he brushed the crumbs from his chest and salvaged the important parts. " Nothin less than whatcha deserve, Val. M'glad fa ya both ~ " He smiled sweetly, genuinely. Their love was contagious. " Ya gotta date set fa the I Do's? "

Alastor

Oh, "workmanship"? He didn't just grab one from the jewelry store? (Well, no, of course he wouldn't.) Alastor leans forward to look too. "I was starting to worry you two were going to get to the wedding and realize you'd forgotten a ring." In truth, he half suspected they were going to get to the wedding and realize they'd forgotten to propose entirely. "Why an eel—it's what you get when you cross a fish with a snake?"

Valera

Valera beams back at her friend, smugness forgotten in the face of such a sweet display. Who could be anything less than ecstatic at a time like this?  "Thank you, Angel Dust. No date set yet, but we'll get there."

Alastor could joke, but it had been a real possibility with these two. She snorts, turning her hand to admire the way the ring sparkled. "I wouldn't have put it past us. We nearly _did_. But yes, a nice symbolic cross between us. Penny has a ring too, he just keeps it in his pocket."

Pausing as an idea comes to mind, she grins even wider, reaching out to pat at Angel's hand. "Hey, hey. Be my babe of honor. You wanted to help me plan anyway, might as well get the fancy title. "

Sir Pentious

Oh! That reminded him. Babe of honor... Hmm. Sir Pentious turned his head right over to Alastor, that enormous C smile over most of his face! He leans over on the armrest of the couch, chin resting on the backs of his fingers as he flicks his tongue at the deerman.  Hello~

Angel

Oh how WIDE his eyes BLEW. His jaw dropped but he was speechless. Dramatically, his eyes darted. His throat produced demonic giggles of glee behind clasped hands. Had Angel really been given the opportunity to play such a vital part of what was touted as one of the most important days of one's life? She was right, yes, he had already pitched the assistance. Though he hadn't told anyone or made his presence known, he HAD been browsing their fashion tag ( for reasons undefined but browsing nonetheless. )

When he finally gathered his graces, he grabbed Valera's hand in all four of his and excitedly bounced as much as the muscular tail around his waist would let him.

" OH FUCKIN' HELL YEAH GIVE IT TA ME!! " Angel exclaimed, " If THAT ain't the highest fuckin' honor a BITCH could HAVE! "

Suddenly, he had to be free. He had to wiggle. His arms reached for her, fluff and hips vibrating at a higher frequency than the naked eye could track. Grabby GRABBY. He had to join the newlywed pile and SQUISH her.

Alastor

He watches the exchange between Valera and Angel with quiet surprise, before scooting back into his chair a little and pulling the cane rifle onto his lap to give the vibrating pile of limbs more room to excitedly wiggle around. Are they that close? But they hardly know each other, don't they? Does Valera have so few friends to call upon to perform such an important wedding function? Or maybe Alastor's mistaken—he's only been aware of their familiarity with each other for a few weeks, but then again he's also only been tuned into the same band of the internet as them for a few weeks—perhaps they've been acquainted much longer and simply hadn't brought it up...

... He is being Looked At by Sir Pentious. Alastor meets his gaze questioningly. "Yes?"

Valera

The response is both immediate and everything Val could have hoped for. They wiggle their fins as Angel starts vibrating, the excitement nearly palpable and highly infectious as he clasps her hand in his own. "Wouldn't settle for anything less than the best, babe. I know you'll be *amazing*."

Oh that spider is a WIGGLIN', and good for him! He's freed in moments, and before she can blink Valera is lovingly squished by a pink and white pile of vibrating fluff. They loop their arms around Angel in turn, nuzzling their nose against his cheek with a girlish giggle. Oh wow, that chest fluff really IS as soft as it looks, they could cuddle into that *forever*. But alas, their stomach doesn't really appreciate this kind of squishing nonsense, making its disapproval known with an unpleasant churn that leaves Valera wincing. But fuck that, they're going to cuddle this fuzzy spider _anyway_.

Sir Pentious

Oh shit Angel is suddenly cuddling up on Valera--Sir Pentious' head whips back around to watch with a bit of an indignant pout--but. He had to just *remind* himself that there was no way that Angel would be interested in her that way. This was... friendly cuddling? He and Alastor had lied on each other before, just not this. Aggressively. Sir Pentious was rather certain he would *crush* the deerman under his weight should he attempt something like that.

Back to Alastor--Sir Pentious resumes his charming little pose, "I WASS THINKING... YOU COULD BE MY BESSST MAN!" He didn't really... have any friends, after all. Alastor was one of the few people he knew that really wanted to be around him, and actively enjoyed his presence, and Pentious enjoyed his as well. Platonically, this was the nicest little arrangement he'd had in *years*.

"THAT ISS, IF WEDDINGSS ARE YOUR THING."

Angel

How he loved this fucking fish. Angel couldn't remember the last time he felt so happy for someone else. Valera's wedding. His system full of eggs. The bright future they'd surely have. He could cry. Tears beading from all eight corners, his heightened sensitivity caught on and cut his celebration short. In fact, it hit him like a TRUCK. He was covered in hypersensitive hairs. Sensitive enough to convey SYMPATHY PAINS.

" Oh, fuck, Val, you...? " Angel tuned in. Those weren't nice sounds. He was too close to see his face but he was nonetheless worried. " You ok? Ya ain't soundin' good in there, Babes... " He ceased to let go, but his excitedly suffocating hold turned to more of one carefully beholding glass. Soothing fingers raked their hair, smoothed over scales. A hand even dropped to their stomach to venture a possible feel of the movement. Angel bit his lip, heart beginning to pound through his dense volume of fluff. " ... Snacks not agreein' wit' ya...? Want me t' getcha some water? "

Alastor

Really? Him? HIM? Are they that close? But they hardly know each other, don't they? Does Sir Pentious have so few friends... oh, yeah, he probably does. Who else would be able to do it? Two eggs standing on each other?

Can Alastor go through with it? Can he stand just a few feet away, close enough to touch Sir Pentious as he recites his vows, and watch?

A broad, exuberant smile crosses his face as his heart plummets into his stomach. "Why—my good sir, it would be the greatest honor! And here I thought I was going to have to sneak into the back and steal a slice of wedding cake when no one was looking! I'd come give you a hug too, but the sofa is..." he glances over as Angel starts fussing over Valera, "... looking a little... cramped."

Valera

Valera chuckles, a hint of nerves creeping into their voice as they loosen their grip on Angel and sit up. Their hands rest on Angel's shoulders now, more for support than to keep him close. "Oh don't let us stop you, Alastor." Deep breath. It was probably nothing, they're fine. A gentle squeeze, and they drop their hands down to pat their stomach. Behave, damn you. "Yes, some water sounds good, if you wouldn't mind!"

They're fine. This is fine. They're even smiling! It's a queasy smile, but hey! Points for trying.

Sir Pentious

Oh! Alastor said yes! Nevermind Valera suffering right next to him, Sir Pentious is beaming--all teeth! And those excited half moon eyes. He's looking absolutely delighted. He reaches a hand out to take one of Alastor's, squeezing it with glee, "GOOD, *GOOD!* A MAN I CAN TRUSSSST BY MY SSSIDE. YESSS, INDEED. IT WILL BE--"

His head whips backwards, and he looks to Valera with deep concern, "MY DEAR???" That deep breath, and the fact that Angel was talking to her like that... C o n c e r n . "ARE YOU IN PAIN?"

Angel

He knew that face too well. Gently clasping the sides of their face, Angel glanced to Alastor in a vaguely implicit plea to get the water for him. " Ya look like ya gonna pass out... " He then looked at Penny. Did he know what to do when Valera felt sick? ' In sickness and in health ' and all that jazz...?

But he looked just as confused. What did Alastor know? What did HE know?? If it had been one of his girls in the club he'd immediately flip on his professional switch and handle the situation with three hands tied behind his back.

But THIS was VALERA.

" ... Water ain't gonna be fixin' that, Sweets, uh... " Panic - rimmed eyes looked to Penny and Alastor as he shifted and braced himself to handle more of their weight. _What do we DO?!_

Alastor

And regardless of what Valera says, THAT'S why now is not the appropriate time for him to fling himself all over Sir Pentious. (That, plus, the witnesses.)

He's keeping the hand though. He figures he's about to lose access to it.

Everyone else is already fussing over Valera, no need for Alastor to pile on and give them one more question they have to reply to. He nods slightly at Angel's look, cheerily says, "Brace yourselves!" before opening a portal in the air next to him and watching in mild interest as a dozen booze bottles from the bar downstairs fall through and crash on the ground. He fishes out a plastic water bottle that survived the fall from among the glass shards and offers it to Angel to pass to Valera.

Valera

Oh, well! That sure was a lot of loud breaking glass and a LOT of alcohol hitting the air at once, what a _stench_. In an interesting maneuver, Valera manages to both flinch away and gag at the same time, fins flat to their head as they huddle against Angel's chest and eke out a low whine from their throat. Not a dignified look, really. Lets pretend that didn't happen.

A shake of their head and they pull back, pupils blown wide and smile turned to something of a grimace. "Well if I wasn't in pain *before* I sure am *now*. Cheers, loves." They'll be taking that (slippery with alcohol) water bottle now, thank you. Not a snatch, not from Angel, but they're determined to chug the entire thing down. As fish do. "If what I think is happening is happening? Uh. Fuck." Another wince, and they try again. "I'll be fine, this'll be over in like. Five minutes, I'll probably swear a lot, and then we can all relax. No worries." See? It's all good, no need to fret you poor idiots.

Sir Pentious

--NOW HOLD ON JUST A FUCKING MINUTE!!

There was A LOT HAPPENING! First, Alastor opens a portal and the floor to his room is POSITIVELY RUINED with alcohol and broken glass! The LOUD NOISE, the STENCH-- his hood FLOOPS open and he pulls his hand away from Alastor only to *snarl* at the deerman, "WHAT ARE YOU *DOING* YOU BLITHERING--" Oh, oh-- oh back to Valera. He's looking her over, fingers flexing as he looks her up and down in sheer *panic.*

Oh no, oh no. Oh no! Is she having her eggs???? His experience with child birth was None Experience, but the way of childbirth in Victorian England was not exactly the most *hopeful* of ventures. These eggs were duds, but it wasn't like that was taking away from Penny's anxiety. What was he supposed to do???? "F-FIVE MINUTESS??? MY LOVE, YOU ARE POSSITIVELY *BURSSSTING*, YOU CANNOT BE SSSERIOUSSS! THERE ARE PLENTY OF WORRIESSSS TO BE H-HAD!"

Oh, he's looking pale. Local snake is starting to shake! He can't sweat, so instead he'll just grab the brim of his hat and pull it down in panic!

Angel

Bursting? Uh... O h . Penny's panic dissuaded his own and the pieces started coming together. If The Father was going to be preoccupied and The Best Man was probably going to be NEEDED, it was up to him. It had to be up to him. Planting a soft kiss onto Valera's crown, he cradled their head into his chest and released his tertiary set of arms. This was going to take a LOT of care and a LOT of power.

Angel took a few moments to concentrate, maneuvering his hands about Valera's body to gauge both where her weight was distributed and where she was tender. He then stook out a leg and straightened his back as they were lifted into his many arms, cradled to the best of his ability.

" I'm takin' 'em t' the en suite, " Angel announced as he maneuvered himself and his precious bundle of eggnant fish around the mess, " Um, you two... " He appeared to be struggling much more with his words as opposed to the way he seemed to be breaking all laws of physics. A spindly form such as his shouldn't be able to support such a concentrated mass of raw muscle, right? Especially not one filled with eggs, RIGHT?

" ... Come help when ya can... " Angel didn't intend to be rude or condenscending, but his mouth failed where the sincerity of his eyes attempted to fill before he turned on his heels and made his way.

Alastor

Static hisses quietly around him in alarm as Sir Pentious pulls away. Ow. He probably deserved that, he startled the room more than he'd expected. "In retrospect, I could have been a little less expedient." It's almost an apology.

Damage control. He dropped the mess in a place where it wouldn't NEED to be maneuvered around—he was overly generous in his estimation of everyone else's tolerance for sudden noises, that didn't mean he hadn't put ANY thought into his actions—but even so, he's gonna briefly open a second portal under the pile of broken glass. It doesn't un-soak the carpet, but now the bottles are Husk's problem. Alastor can clean the carpet later, right now he's sure that's a distant second on everyone's list of concerns.

He stands and puts a hand on Sir Pentious's shoulder—he'll risk Sir Pentious's wrath when he clearly needs somebody grounding him. "Steady. Their quantity means they're small and their shape means they're aerodynamic, they"—he narrowly suppresses the urge to say *they'll slip right out*—"have no risk of causing complications." He hasn't a damn clue  if that's true. But he sure sounds like he does. "And we've got magic to help ease the process, haven't we?"

Honestly, in his heart of hearts, he doubts Valera needs anything but to be given a little polite distance by the pair of half-panicked busybodies fussing over them. But if it will calm everyone down enough to let Valera to get through their five minute ordeal without having to manage everyone ELSE'S distress as well, then Alastor had better help more directly. His lower body is already turned toward the bathroom door as he prepares to go see what he can do—but not until he's sure that leaving won't mean turning his back on Sir Pentious during a building panic attack. Either Alastor's got to stabilize him or he's got to make sure that Sir Pentious is going to come along to have his panic attack in the bathroom.

Valera

Bless Angel Dust and all the brain cells he seems to have stolen from the rest of the party. Valera is more than happy to curl up and let him carry her to the en suite, purring softly to self soothe as much as try to comfort her spindly rescuer.

"Bathtub should work." There's the fake casual tone again, but it was better than being hysterical right now. If it was only going to be her and Angel here for this, best to make sure it went smoothly. Which meant taking his sudden competence and rolling with it. "Drop me in, and uh. I don't know, hold my hand?"

Sir Pentious

OooOoohh dear. Alastor's hand is on his shoulder, and Pentious has only just watched Angel carry away his wife. Pentious places a hand to his mouth, listening to Alastor attempt to reassure him with the.... *autonomy* of the situation. He pales further, looking a little ill.

His tongue is hanging out of his mouth in the most pathetic fashion, and he looks towards the en suite, going on quite the face journey. He should be there, but he couldn't *move*, it was like being tied to a dead weight!

*Foolish, stupid old man. Failing your wife again?* Oh no this was a TERRIBLE time for panicked thoughts. His hand grips Alastor's once more, and his mind races as he just looks like he might die!

Angel

" I ain't gonna DROP ya, tesoro ~ " he cooed as he gently lowered them and got lucky with the first cabinet he opened. Without leaving her side, he folded a towel over the edge for her head. " I dunno if ya done this before, but I sure haven't so... "

Angel knelt before the tub and held Valera's hands, dipping the bottom half of his face below the brim as four pairs of puppy dog eyes stared at them, brows twisted wtth worry. " D'ya... want the warm water fa the cramps...? Eggs can't drown, right? "

Alastor

Well, THAT didn’t help. So much for the appeal to logos. Shoot for pathos instead, he supposes.

Alastor lowers his voice. “Listen.” He squeezes Sir Pentious’s hand reassuringly. “Valera’s going to be just fine. I promise you. But I bet she’ll feel better about the whole thing if she has her genius, notorious fiancé at her side.” He nods toward the door encouragingly. “Don’t you think?”

If he thought it would help, he’d pull Sir Pentious into a hug and hold him tight, until whatever’s in his head putting those horrible expressions on his face is gone. But he doubts anything but Sir Pentious’s fiancée can help. So he has to just, sort of, try to telepathically transmit a hug through hand-holding.

Valera

Good thinking, Angel. All Valera's research and prep kind of flew out the window as soon as the situation got real. She settles back, sighing in relief as her hand curls tight around his. "Thanks, babe." She turns her head, flashing him the cheekiest wink she can muster up. "Don't worry, fish are remarkably hard to drown. Water sounds great. Think it'll be us two, or are the two old timers going to show up and make this a _real_ party?"

Sir Pentious

Telepathic hug...

Sir Pentious' eyes widen, his talons tapping against Alastor's hand as he's grounding himself with the other's voice. Genius, *notorious* fiance! Oh, yes... Yes! He SHOULD be there!! Sir Pentious sits up, quite suddenly, and turns his head to Alastor.

"YESSS, YOU'RE RIGHT! YESSS. I SHOULD BE THERE... I CANNOT HAVE THAT SSSPIDER SHOW ME UP!!! I..." Urp. "I WILL! HANDLE THISS!! AS I SHOULD!"

And... he slithers off of the couch, adjusting his bowtie as he enters into the en suite, trying not to look like he's about to die.

Angel

_No fucking DUH..._ Angel silently cursed to himself as an extra hand went for the water and tested it for warmth. That was the benefit to being in Hell ; it came out hot and they had to wait for _cold._

" I dunno, " he sighed, " Pen was lookin' pretty shaken up. He might need a minute or two t'- oh! Speak a the serpentine devil ~ ! " Exasperation turned to relief as he scooted to make way to Valera on his knees. " You ok t' take over fa me? " he said with a respectful offering of his fiancé's hands.

Alastor

Success! Alastor keeps his grip on Sir Pentious's hand as long as he can, but lets him slip free before they reach the en suite. That's for Valera now.

He hovers in the doorway. "Do you need any other assistance, or would I just be adding to the tripping hazards if I came in?" He wouldn't mind coming in—if there's no way he can help, he'd be happy to sit on the toilet lid and provide color commentary—but the room already contains a guy with six arms and a fifteen-foot snake, he doesn't really need to add to the crowd if he's not going to be productive.

Valera

Oh, speak of the devil indeed! Valera grins up at Pentious, in far better spirits now that she's in nice warm water and laying back. Infinitely better than trying to sit on a couch while her body tried to act up. It was unfortunate that her pretty silk nightgown was getting just short of boiled, but ah well. Sacrifices must be made and all that.

Oh, and Alastor too? Goodness, she really did know how to summon them. Another wince, and then she clears her throat and pipes up, overly cheery again. "Unless you've got a nice strip of leather that might survive my teeth gnawing on it, I don't know!"

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious makes his way forward, flicking his tongue in long stretches, *clearly* stressed out with his crazy eyes... but he hunkers down by the tub so that he can grasp Valera's hands in his, and stare into her eyes. Was he looking handsome right now? Absolutely not, but he had to be here! He must! For his wife's sake. And... not. Think about the eggs, and. Urp. Oh, he is paling. Keep the smelling salts on hand,,

"ALASSSTOR." Sir Pentious turns his head round, backwards, "DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE THISSSS ROOM!"

Angel

" Yeah, Al, c'mere. " With a grunt, Angel pushed off his knees and braced himself against the edge of the tub near the running faucet. If not for how _tensely_ he taut his muscles in the high stress of the moment, being on his knees would've felt as natural as laying down...

... but this wasn't about _his_ pain.

" Think they're gonna need ya... " he said assertively with a fish ( pun not intended ) through his fluff for a pen of waterproof liner. " Ya think ya can cash in a favor wit' ya friend Prince, uh... " He couldn't help a nervous snicker as he held it out and ushered Alastor forward. " _Demon's epidurals?_ Whatever it takes, I'll make up fa it. "

Could he compare labor to being shot? Maybe being shot in the DICK, but if that sigil was powerful enough for him to be poked and prodded through with close to no pain at all? Valera deserved that level of relief. He wanted that for him more than anything right about now.

Alastor

"I won't, I'm not leaving." He picks his way around Sir Pentious's tail to stand next to him and squeeze his shoulder again. See? Right here, not going anywhere.

He takes the liner, glances over Valera's body thoughtfully, then says, "I can give you a magical painkiller, but it involves drawing an infernal prince's sigil directly on your skin as close to the point of greatest pain as possible. Do you have any objections to any part of that process? If you DO, I have other painkillers, but they're slower."

Valera

Valera scoots to the edge of the tub, both hands wrapped around Pentious' to try and comfort him with gentle squeezes. "I'll be fine, love. But if this is too much, I won't be upset if you need to leave." Mwah, a kiss for the back of his hand.

Oh, hm. Interesting proposal there, pain relief does sound rather tempting with the way her body is feeling. "If we had more than, at my guess, ten minutes before this was over, I'd consider alternatives. But what's a little infernal magic between friends?" Better to feel hungover later than break Pentious' hand now! Hit her with your best personal space invasion, Alastor.

Sir Pentious

The talk of painkillers is kind of going over Sir Pentious' head. It's not like they didn't exist back when he was alive, but he was more fixated on trying to keep his stomach contents inside of his body, and not faint on the spot, also. Alastor's hand on his shoulder, as well as Valera's hands on his was *very* comforting, and he just kind of sat there, looking stricken with concern.

"HOW-- *INVASSSSIVE* WILL THISSS SSSSSIGIL BE???"

Angel

" He ain't gonna be shovin' it up 'is VAGINA or anythin'! " Angel proclaimed with a twist and drag of his neckline to reveal his bandage, " Just aroun' the top, like he did me 'ere... " He then circled a claw around the spot where his wound was healing. _Modesty ain't the goal here, Penny, c'mon ~_ he mused silently, instead urging the snake prioritize better with his Look. He also reached down to give a section of Penny's tail a gentle pat. Physical reassurance seemed to be doing... something for them both. " It works wonders. _Trust us ~ "_

Alastor

"It was up top for YOU, Angel, because your INJURY was up top. For Valera, in order for me to get as close to the point of the pain as possible—well, truth be told, the only downside to trying to shove it up the aforementioned anatomy is the fact that I wouldn't be able to draw like that! As it is," he nods to Valera, "if you'd be so good as to expose a bit of skin somewhere abdominal where I can draw, please. At least as much surface area as the palm of your hand, as close as you can get to the point of maximum pain."

Valera

Another little squeeze for Pentious' hand, this poor fool looked like he was about to keel over, and then Valera pulls her hands free. Unfortunately, they were needed elsewhere.

"Alastor, as much as I trust your unwavering capacity for professionalism, I think I'll pass on the infernal fisting, for both of our sakes." A snort, and she unbuttons over her stomach, scooting back to make sure it was above the water's surface. Angel's eyeliner was good, but she doubted it was _that_ good. "Have at it, but you may need to towel the area off to get better traction. Fish are slippery and all that."

Sir Pentious

His hood FLOOMPS out with indignant fury at being spoken to that way by Angel, and he moves his tail away from the other!!

"DO NOT TOUCH Me, YOU-" Wait, where. Oh no.

Sir Pentious is going to sit on himself, hands clasped together on his lap and just. Scream internally as he would have to watch Alastor touch his fiancée in such.

Specific places. The talk of slippery and needing better traction as him swallow hard, trying not to think about the fact he was *in the birthing chambers oh God oh God oh God he feels like he's unlocked some long buried repressed memories.*

Sit neatly, Penny. No need for fuss.

Angel

Angel sighed and drained some of the water. That couldn't be a bad call, right? He also reached to revisit the cabinet from prior for another towel. A second one. He gave them both to Valera.

" Here... one fa dryin' and another if ya wanna... cover up, " he mumbled, eyes darting around the room for anything else he could do to try and settle the atmosphere.

Coming up empty, he shifted back towards the faucet to give Alastor some space. He could touch _her_ tail, right? An ankle? Angel leaned back. He'd be at the ready where he was guaranteed to be needed.

Alastor

"Infernal fss—!" Hold on while Alastor's studio audience cracks up. "Hah, no! I don't have the right manicure for that, do I!"

Alastor waits until Valera has toweled a patch of skin dry, then perches on the edge of the tub, leans across it to brace one elbow on the opposite side, and hastily scrawls out Prince Gaap's sigil. He doesn't straighten up until it's started to glow. "There! Instant painkiller—and partial invulnerability to injury as well. You can take a stab or two but don't climb into any trash compactors."

He offers the liner to Angel and squeezes Sir Pentious's shoulder again. There, not so bad, is it? Alastor didn't even have to touch Valera, it was all the liner.

Valera

"Just so, my dear fellow! Maybe next time." She doesn't have a good angle to really study the sigil, but she cranes her head down to take a look, fins flaring in surprise. "Oh! Gaap, huh? How fitting, this sort of thing is just up his alley."

Instant relief! She could _kiss_ the radio man. But she'll settle for laying back again, fixing her position and getting comfortable. Just in time, it'd been getting pretty hard to keep up appearances.

Sir Pentious

Very prickly snake man may have to apologize to Angel Dust later, for being so thankless. This was the primary reason Pentious had so few friends.

He's just watching Valera now, focused on her and reaching out for her hand.

Angel

With a deep sigh of relief, Angel put his liner away and busied himself with fussing over the tap. Particularly the chain connecting the handle to the plug. It was so entertaining. Was he being too loud and obnoxious, jingling and making faces at the thing to manually steer himself from further upsetting Penny? _Perhaps._ But now that Valera was comfortable at long last, the remainder of his nervous energy had go go _somewhere._

Alastor

"Oh, do you know him!" He perks up. "Where did you meet?! We haven't been narrowly missing each other at big parties for the past decade, have we? Say, if I..."

He trails off as he remembers what, exactly, they're in the middle of.

Then he cheerily adds, "Maybe we'll exchange Gaap gossip later."

Valera

She offers a slightly strained smile, but keeps her tone light. "Later, yes. We'll have lunch, make a day of it. It'll be fun." Deep breath, this is it lads.

The actual laying process is, at least on Valera's end, largely uneventful and over with in a few minutes of undignified grimacing and shifting in place. There's a brief stab of dulled pain as the process begins in earnest, but with the combination of adrenaline and magic, she barely feels a thing beyond 'vague discomfort'. Thanks, Alastor.

Three pristine white orbs, roughly the size of ostrich eggs, with soft, leathery shells. The proud (?) Mother sits up, taking a moment to catch her breath before she nudges them out of her robe. She lifts and inspects each egg in turn, turning them this way and that, then drops them back into the water and drapes herself over the edge of the tub, looking quite pleased with herself. "Sturdy shells, healthy sizes and weights. For all intents and purposes, picture perfect eggs. Damn I'm good." Thumbs up for the audience.

Sir Pentious

What was the great Sir Pentious doing for most of this? Trying to not throw up, actually. He kind of looks more like a White Snake right now, swaying a little from side to side... once he sees those eggs? And the thought that they came from inside of her? Oh, and also, the various faces she made before?

Sploosh. He just *fainted*, with his head RIGHT into the tub.

Angel

Valera's making faces... VALERA'S MAKING FACES! At the sound of her beginning grunting, Angel promptly turned from his stimming and leaned towards her from a respectful distance, all four hands clenching the edge of the tub for dear life. For a moment he worried the sigil wasn't working, or was somehow rubbing off in the water. He was a FOOL. His liner wasn't designed for scales. WHAT WERE THEY GOING TO DO-?!

If his face wasn't already stark as a sheet, his fleeing soul took the rest of his pigment from his body upon reaizing he wasn't squeezing just the tub. Sometime during their labor, he'd crept closer and closer and found himself squeezing the living daylights out of Alastor's arm. Angel flailed his arms away as quickly as he realized, but not fast enough to escape THE SPLASH.

All his glorious volume. GONE.

He hugged the rim of the tub right next to Valera to shield himself, just to find himself close enough to the eggs to see their texture. The size of his eyes mirrored their diameter. A BABY could come out of those... They'd need care... protection... guidance... The rest of the en suite felt silent as a void save for the turn of his head towards Valera. Back to the eggs. And to him again. Angel shrunk.

" C... " he struggled, " Can... I hold 'em...? "

Alastor

Initially, Alastor's content (more or less) to remain sitting on the edge of the tub, gaze pointed politely at the ceiling to allow Valera a modicum of dignity.

Which means he’s unalert when SOMEBODY grabs his arm. He beeps out a startled *di-di-dah-dah-di-dit* and shoots Angel a look. Under the circumstances, he’ll let it slide. Considering that Alastor’s the only person in the room who isn’t emotionally compromised, he must look a pillar of reassuring stability, mustn’t he?

When Sir Pentious faints, Alastor elects to share some of that stability, slithers down to the floor, pulls Sir Pentious from the tub, and holds him upright. That's a totally normal friend thing to do, right? Supporting a pal? Helping a homey? Embracing a buddy? Tenderly cradling a comrade in your loving arms? Oh so softly humming a sweet melody to sooth an unconscious amigo? Affectionately allowing a friendaroonie to rest his head upon your shoulder—

Oh, is the show over? Alastor glances into the tub, offers a round of applause from the studio audience, and dryly says, "Well done."

All that fuss for so little. Considering the meager help they provided and the eggs’ infertility, they were less three midwives assisting in a birth and more three gawkers watching somebody shit out an unusually large constipated turd. Alastor should have handed Valera a water bottle, administered a painkiller, and left—and he faintly resents the other two for trapping him in this rude intrusion.

But, well. He's here now. Arms available to all who need support, apparently.

Valera

Sparing a bemused look at Alastor holding up Pentious' unconscious pasta noodle of a corpse, Valera scoops one of the eggs out of the water and offers it out to Angel. "I think the father is usually supposed to hold the results of his efforts first, but seeing as my poor beau wants to play the part of Alastor's fashionable new accessory? You may have the honor."

A snort as she hands the egg off, and she flicks a few drops of water onto Penny's face. "Rise and shine, Sir Pentious. The ordeal is over, wake up before Alastor decides to start eating your children like some kind of opportunistic mongoose."

Sir Pentious

The flecks of water kind of don't do much for him at the moment, since he did end up getting an entire *faceful* of water not that long ago. Maybe smelling salts or something would do the trick!

Angel

If Angel's eyes got any bigger, they'd surpass the borders of his face. An EGG. He was holding AN EGG. His dead demon heart aflutter, he could not contain the way he vibrated. He even forgot how self conscious he would've been in the moment to be sporting a damp, flattened chest.

Gently smoothing his thumbs over the soft, leathery surface, he moved to kneel before the cuddling comrades, affectionate amigos, bosom buddies. " Hey, Pen, buddy... " Angel had no smelling salts on hand, but he attempted to call the snake's attention as he carefully held the egg out to him, ready to retract like LIGHTNING if he so happened to get startled. " It's ya happy lil' mistake ~ Val's wantin' ya t' hold 'em ~ "

He sang and smiled brightly to fruitless avail. Not wanting to risk crossing Penny's boundaries again, he looked to Alastor. " Your turn. Smack 'im, or somethin'. He's more t' forgive you fa that than me, " Angel suggested with a snicker.

Alastor

"I would never," Alastor says, as if the very suggestion was unimaginable. "They're YOUR eggs, OBVIOUSLY the mother and father should have the first opportunity to eat them! I was even going to offer to fry them up for you." What kind of a guest do they take him for, honestly.

"I'm not smacking him. Hold on, I've got some salt of hartshorn." As much as he'd like to continue cuddling his chum, he supposes it's going to look weird if he doesn't help. He opens a small portal—AWAY from Angel—and rummages through it until he withdraws a package of smelling salts. There, sniff that. Wakey wakey.

Valera

"I appreciate the thoughtfulness, Alastor! How did you know I was absolutely starved?"

A snort, and Val drags more of herself out of the tub, upper torso hanging over the edge as she watches the scene. She's never seen someone react to smelling salts before!

Sir Pentious

Well, that whiff was definitely enough to get his eyes fluttering open, and his face *wrinkling* at the scent.

"UGH--WHAT... WHAT?" He was all wet, and he hated that a great deal, and he was being held in Alastor's arms. Hm. Sir Pentious' head swivels to and fro, and he looks to Valera. There's a big smile!

And then he immediately remembers what had happened and pales again, "OH." Feeling foolish, his neck sinks into his collar, "MUSSST EVERYONE SSSTARE AT ME!!!?"

Weh!

Angel

" This lil' thing'd be starin' at ya TOO an' callin' ya DADDY if it 'ad eyes. An' a mouth. " Angel continued presenting the egg in both hands as if it were the most precious thing to exist. He had just the right amount of hands to hold all three as such, but perhaps Penny would gather enough of his graces to fish them out of the tub himself. He agreed with Valera. He should have the honor. ~~But that didn't stop his staring longingly at them from the corner of his eyes.~~ It would take everything in his person to refrain from IMMEDIATELY getting another egg in his hands as soon as Penny relieved him. " C'mon, Pen, say HELLO t' my LIL' FRIEND ~ " he snorted.

Alastor

Alastor loosens his embrace but doesn't quite break it, then politely tips his head back and looks at the ceiling—there, see? Not staring anymore.

"Eyes, a mouth, or an actual life inside it," Alastor mutters wryly, then tips his still-tilted head sideways to roll his eyes to Valera. "I'd bring you some catering from the next room over, but I don't think I've been forgiven yet from the last time I got you a snack."

Valera

Valera watches Pentious' reaction with a snort, then hauls herself up to sit on the edge of the tub and start wringing water out of her poor nightgown. Ugh, wet silk... Ah well, a little magic and it's as flouncy and befluffed with heaps of lace as ever, and now she can properly step out of the tub and join the rest of them on the floor without turning it into a hazard. There, it's a floor party now.

"Perhaps not, Alastor! I suppose I'll survive another hour or so before I start gnawing at anyone's kneecaps." A dramatic sigh, a long stretch, and she settles in to start finger combing her hair. "Angel, honey, I see you eyeing them. It's alright, you can hold them all." A pause, and she scoots over to cuddle up to Angel's side so she can half-murmur to him. "Not sure if Penny dear is up to even looking at them, look how pale he is! My feelings would be hurt if I hadn't expected some level of horror at the process."

Sir Pentious

Feelings *hurt*? Oh no. Usually he wouldn't care but this was Valera, his love, his light. There's a big frown as he looks at one of the eggs.

It's okay now, don't think about how it came out of her--he reaches a shaking hand toward the egg. Being called daddy by a little eelish child.... His eyes to THE THING as he takes hold of the egg with both hands....

And brings it in close against his chest. There might not be anything inside, but.... The fact there *could* be at a later date, a child between him and Valera....

Oh those big eyes aren't going away.

Angel

He didn't need to be told twice. Soon as he handed off the first egg to Penny, Angel dove back into the tub for the rest and promptly sat back up with them. He must've cleared the tub with how much water he threw, but the widest smile he could muster as he cuddled the two duds didn't care.

" They gotta be WARM though, don't they...? " he pouted first at Valera, then down at his chest. Forget FORM. NOW the famous fluff lost its FUNCTION. " Ya got a blowdrier in 'ere? Just gimme a minute wit' it and I'll be toastin' these babies in NO TIME! "

Alastor

Sir Pentious is taking the egg, does that mean it's safe to look at him again—? Oh. Oh look at that wonder on his face.

Nope. Definitely wasn't safe to look yet. Alastor drags his gaze away.

Now, why does Angel care about keeping the eggs warm? If anything, they ought to be kept cold to keep them from spoiling longer. They'd only need to be warm if something was in them—

Alastor's ear twitch as something in him quietly dings in realization. He turns to catch Valera's eye: *do you want to tell him or shall I?*

Valera

Catching Valera's eye is a bit harder than usual with the way she's watching Pentious go from grossed out to over the moon, but once he has it her eyes flicker between him and Angel. Processing, processing, give her a moment while she sorts through egg brain..

"I don't think we have one in here, actually? Penny doesn't have hair, and I don't need one. We'd have to ask Charlie or Niffty.. it's okay though, they'd be..." Oh wait.

The light turns on, and she nods a _go ahead_ to the cherry red radio man. Time to scoot her way to Pentious and give him a lil peck on the cheek with only A LITTLE hesitation. "Hi honey." A familiar doll manifests in Valera's hands, offered out to the proud father himself. She's still SOMEWHAT worried he might faint again, so. Look! A cute doll, easier to think about that!

Sir Pentious

His eyes are so big, it's amazing that they can do that considering he's not a feline. When he's kissed on the cheek, he looks to Valera, flicking his tongue--oh there's a cute doll!!! He remembers this doll. Going to take the doll too................ COBRA PURR. It sounds very horrifying unless you're in love with Sir Pentious,

Don't mind him, he's off in his own world here. Only barely listening to everyone else.

Angel

Off in his own adjacent world, Angel continued holding and beaming at the eggs like a proud mother of twins. If a drier was out of the question at the moment, he could towel dry. They had plenty of towels. He made a quick makeshift nest for the eggs in the middle of his crossed legs before doing due diligence with his fluff.

Then it dawned at him that he wasn't the only one in the room with hair. Fur. No matter. Fluff was fluff and it included deer fluff.

" Hey, Al. " Angel peeked at him from beneath a towel. " Ya got a drier in that void a yours I could borrow? " he asked as a pair of spare hands tucked in the eggs.

Alastor

Oh he's got a cobra purring against him. Said cobra isn't paying attention to him but it doesn't matter. He's being purred on. Hold on. Give him a second. He's having a moment of euphoria here—

—hold on who's talking to him. "Hm?" For a split second, between having rapidly dumped the prior conversation out of his short-term memory and the deep rumbling that Sir Pentious is putting out, he interprets "drier" as a clothing drier and nearly asks if Angel's planning to scramble the eggs in one. "I'm afraid not!"

Then he leans toward Angel as much as he thinks he can get away with without reminding Sir Pentious of where he's sitting, props his elbow on the rim of the tub and his cheek against his hand, nods toward the carefully-constructed nest, and asks, "Oh, Angel? You ARE aware that those eggs aren't alive, aren't you?"

Valera

Pentious and his horrible cobra purrs, charming two people in existence and nobody else. Valera grins, all set to snuggle into his side until she remembers that there are other people in the room. It's fine, she'll settle for a casual drape over his tail as she tunes back in.

"Oh? Uh, yeah Angel. They've got everything they need in there, but no spark of life to kick them off. I feel like I've mentioned that before?" She cocks her head, looking at Angel and his little nest. "Though if I'd known you'd get so parental over them..." A shrug, and she makes a vague, wiggly fingers motion at the eggs in his lap.

Angel

" You-uh... What? " Angel's brows sloped like a church steeple as he fought with how little to believe his ears. For all he knew, Alastor could be mocking him. His eyes almost narrowed, but rapidly MOISTENED as he took in what Valera had to say. _Guess they were RIGHT and HE was a paternally lovesick FOOL._

" ... No... " he responded solemnly with a pout, " Must a... went over m'head... " Was that a SNIFFLE? Angel was, in fact, sniffling. Whether it'd come to ANYONE'S surprise was up for debate. Either way, he was embarassed. So he twisted towards the tub and buried his face into his arms as the others hugged the nest.

" What a... " SNIFFLE. " We gonna be doin' wit' em', then...? " He popped a daring eye at Alastor. _' Don't say " eat them " , don't say " eat them " , **BRO. YA BETTA NOT SAY " EAT THEM " I SWEAR T' MARY JOSEPH AN' JESUS...!**_ '

Alastor

Alastor wants very very badly to laugh at Angel. Instead he stretches out one hand to Angel’s back. Pat pat.

“That’s entirely up to the parents!” Please say eat them, please say eat them, he’d really like to eat them—

Valera

Oh noooo... Valera reaches out, smiling sympathetically as she pats Angel's knee. Many pats on all sides for this spider, there there. "I know I'm the one who made them and all, but I'm leaving that up to my beau! ..Who's probably still out of it. Hang on." She slaps at Penny's back with her tail, just enough to jostle him.

"Babe! What do you want to do with the eggs? Keep them? Throw them out? Feed them to Alastor? Pretty sure Alastor wants to eat them, he's been joking about it the whole time."

Sir Pentious

Oh and jostled he is. His upper body wiggles in place like a cartoon character, comical woobwoobwoo sound and all!

He makes a *face* at Valera for that, promptly remembers he's holding an egg and a doll, and floomps out his hood--Sorry Alastor. You get a hood to the face. Smells like Sir Pentious though.

"EAT THEM??? THROW THEM OUT?!? NO!!! THEY ARE *MINE* AND NO ONE CAN HAVE THEM!!" And with that, he shoves the egg in his hat. The hat is making something akin to an uwu face.

"ANGEL DUST, GIVE ME THE OTHER EGGS AT O----Are you crying???"

Angel

" NO!! " A muffled Angel yelled from a towel, " I AIN'T CRYIN'! YOUSE THE FATHER! **YOU'RE** CRYIN'! "

Without freeing his face from the towel, his secondary and tertiary hands felt about the nest before carefully offering them off to Penny like the precious gems they were.

" THEY AIN'T ALIVE. REMEMBER?? " SNIFF! " THERE AIN'T! NOTHIN' T' BE CRYIN' ABOUT! " If he were to lift his face from that towel, it'd be covered in dusty pink make up and runny mascara. It's his now. He'll have to grope his way down the halls to his room before giving it up.

Alastor

Alastor’s immediately filled with a horrible mix of rage and terror at Valera’s words—it’s fine when HE talks about eating the eggs because he’s been very careful to phrase it as an OFFER to fry them up should the parents be interested, but if Valera’s words are Sir Pentious’s first introduction to the topic he’s going to think Alastor’s been preparing to snatch them up and dart off to the nearest skillet, and there’s another shard chiseled off of the very slender pillar of trust Alastor’s managed to build up with Sir Pentious—

And before he can start to consider damage control, he gets smacked in the face with a hood. He might have enjoyed the scent if he didn’t suddenly have his nose smashed into his face.

By the time Alastor manages to see around Sir Pentious’s hood, Angel is crying, Sir Pentious looks like he might be on the verge of crying, and Alastor’s not sure what to do but exchange a glance with Valera. All this for a bunch of duds.

Valera

Valera's trying not to laugh, she really is. But the melodrama happening in the bathroom is better than any soap opera she's ever seen, and it's happening live, audience participation mandatory! She grins gleefully at Alastor, all her teeth on display, then schools her expression back to the picture of sympathy as she scoots closer to stroke Angel's hair. There there, get a hug you sad spider.

"Hey, it's okay Angel. You're alright! I might be crying too, if I wasn't deathly averse to being vulnerable." Or if she were particularly emotional at the moment, but she's high on adrenaline and magic, not to mention SUPER hungry.

Sir Pentious

.................. He's gonna take these eggs, thank you. Into his hat they go. And then put his hat back on his head.

Strangely, the hat doesn't seem all that different, and it's also not drooping at all.

... Weird.

SIr Pentious sits back, and looks at Alastor with a *squint*. "WERE YOU GOING TO EAT THEM??? THEY CAME OUT OF MY WIFE, ALASTOR." That's as *Dude* as it gets.

Angel

Angel turned into Valera's chest to hide and try to preserve some dignity. He carefully wiped his face and eyes, intending to do so until no more makeup came off, but Penny yelling at Alastor caught his attention. A reddened eye subtly peeked from the fluff of the towel to catch the next act of drama now that he was off center stage.

Alastor

“*Valera* said I was going to eat them,” Alastor clarified patiently. “*I* said—*after* this initial accusation was made—that if the parents *wanted,* I would be *willing* to cook them up for you. I didn’t broach the topic and once it was broached I didn’t even ask to eat them myself. This is character assassination.”

Valera

The accused fish snorts, no venom in their voice as they lovingly combs their claws through Angel's hair. The gentlest little head scratches. You would accuse them, Alastor? They're over here looking like the next Virgin Mary comforting this weeping wannabe dad, and you accuse them of character assassination? Unbelievable. They'd be offended if they didn't love every second of this. "A vicious attack against the local cannibal, truly. He has a point though, he never said it outright."

They'll leave the implications of that statement up to interpretation, right now they have to nuzzle their face into top of Angel's head and purr for him. See? Much too busy comforting their friend for such things.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious blinked, looking from Alastor to Valera before he LAUGHED, putting an arm around Alastor and *bumping* his head to the deerman's.

"CHARACTER ASSSSSASSSSSINATION?? WHY, THAT MUSSSST BE THE ONLY THING THAT CAN KILL YOU IN HELL, MAN! NYA HA HA HAAAAAAA!"

Angel

There's still a bit of blackened smudge around his eyes, but OH is he in _BLISS!_ Instinctively, Angel's cheek chases the rumble of their throat and digs into the bones of Valera's collar for some more of that sweet, _sweet_ sensation. No drama. Just purring ~

Followed by snickering. Alastor's a bit _invested,_ isn't he?

Alastor

Is he ever invested. His eyes fly wide open when Sir Pentious pulls him in to bump, and then slide shut as he leeeans into the touch.

"The Radio Demon's only weakness." He's grinning dumbly, oh, this is so nice. Can he hug back, he's gonna hug back. "When you're as dangerous as I am, the only part of you that can be damaged is your reputation!"

Valera

Valera narrows her eyes, but holds her tongue, ignoring Pentious and Alastor in favor of doting on Angel. Just gonna curl her tail around the spusband and stay in her lane here.

A gentle murmur into that soft fluff. "I'm sorry Angel, if I'd known you were so excited about them being fertile eggs, I could have done something about it! But tell you what. Whenever I have a *real* clutch, I'll let you suggest a name, okay? Not guaranteed to use it, but I'll consider it."

Sir Pentious

It's a good thing that Sir Pentious couldn't see that eye narrowing, or else the mood would have taken a sharp turn into frigid winters. He was completely oblivious to Alastor's true feelings for him, assuming this was all well and good for friends to do. It was acceptable in his day, at least, for male friends to hang out like so and topple over one another. Although, he didn't really have friends of his own to topple with, so... this could be why he was so strange about it.

"AH, YESS! THAT ISS TRUE!! I SSTILL CONSSIDER MYSSSELF A MAN OF REPUTATION, OF A CERTAIN SSSTANDING! ALTHOUGH I DOUBT YOURSSS IS TARNISHED FROM WANTING TO EAT EGGSS. YOU DO EAT *PEOPLE.* IF YOU ARE SSSO SSSTARVED FOR AN OVAL DISH, YOU COULD GRAB ONE OF MINE!!!" A pause, "EGG BOIS. I MEAN EGG BOISS." WHat else would you have meant,

And then his eyes kind of go cross eyed.

"WHY ARE WE ALL SSITTING ON THE FLOOR!?"

Angel

The spider stifled some more GIGGLES when Valera offered him the high honor. TOO high an honor. Not so much because of WHO she was asking, but where the MOBSTER came from and the CUSTOMS they had.

" Oh, no. Babe. _No~_ " Angel earnestly prepared to administer himself a burn. " Have ya EVER heard a the names mafiosi come up wit' fa each other? Ontop a that, I gave M'SELF the name Angel Dust. Ya gonna end up wit' a name like Ecstasy. 'Cause that's what it fuckin'... FELT LIKE thinkin' these bambinos was live... "

He then plastered a playfully shameful hand over his face, sandwiching his head between that and Valera's chest. " Or _Babyface Bobby._ " YEAH. NO. Don't HUMOR HIM.

" Well there's only one seat in 'ere, " Angel joked with a jut of a thumb towards the toilet, " This place ain't made fa an audience, but 'ere we ARE... " He pushed up from Valera just enough to see their face. " Ya doin' ok, Sweets? "

Alastor

"It's not the eating of eggs that would damage my reputation," Alastor said, with an artificial air of great dignity. "It's the suggestion that I would start demanding the infertile offspring of a friend to eat without first waiting to see what said friend wants to do with them! I am not so inconsiderate to my friends!"

His invisible audience laughed at Angel's toilet explanation, and he cheerfully added, "The floor is a perfectly adequate seat!" Then he leaned over to elbow Angel. "If a child can be named Joy or Felicity with no trouble, I don't see any problem with Ecstasy." Look at that shit-eating grin.

Valera

The grin on Val's face is edging towards Maniacally Cheerful as opposed to comforting and maternal, but it's fine. Angel can't be upset if he's busy cracking up like a microwaved egg. The daintiest little gasp, and she places the very tips of her fingers to her cheek.

"But hun, darling, baby, that's exactly what I want! You think any kid unfortunate enough to come out of me is getting a *normal* name? I expect only the FINEST suggestions." A pause to dramatically chef kiss her fingers, and she carries on with gusto. "I'm talking the WORST puns imaginable. Same goes for you, Alastor. Don't let me down."

Sir Pentious

Well now they're all speaking loud enough for Penny to hear them... And he's frowning. Puns??? Of course, he liked a good pun, but. All he could imagine was his beloved future daughter being mocked for having a ridiculous name!

So he begins moving like he's intending to get up, "THE FLOOR ISSS NOT NEARLY AS COMFORTABLE AS THE SSSOFA. I SHALL RETURN THERE! THE LEFTOVER TEA CALLSSSS TO ME." And he swivels his body around, moving to just PICK UP Valera, pulling her into his arms, "ALSO I AM TAKING *MY* WIFE WITH ME." Why does he say that so pointedly. Why are you so aggressive, Penny.

He. Can't fully lift her, but she can ride the Penny Engine out of the bathroom, byeeee.

Angel

In the midst of tossing his head back to LAUGH, Angel bumped his head on the edge of the sink. He only cringed for a second, though, as he all but immediately continued bursting.

" 'AIGHT VAL, I won't let ya down. If ya get yourself another set of triplets, Joy, Felicity, and Ecstacy are contenders. "

He leaned out of the way of the shifting masses of enormous tails, waving off his friend with an imaginary hankie. " Go ahead. I'll clean up all the water and be back after I, uh... dry. " Being seen without his fluff was worse than being seen without makeup. And now the three of them had experienced both.  Angel hid his embarassment best he could with a casual jut of his chin in Alastor's direction.

" Ya need help cleanin' up the bottles, too? "

Alastor

Alastor gets to his feet. Goodness, he’s soaking too. With a flick of one hand he casts the worst of it out of his clothing, leaving himself only slightly damp.

“The glass has already been dealt with.” The glass has already been relocated, at any rate; whether or not it’s been dealt with is up to Husk now. “I can clean up the booze myself!”

He glances around the bathroom, decides he’s been plenty helpful enough already and no need to clean up the water too, and sweeps out to rejoin the party. There’s a whole table of snacks he left behind and he’s starving.

[ofcnoel]

               𝓻𝓪𝓺'𝓼 ( 𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 )  𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 002

        hey y’all  it’s  me,  lowering the bar  for  us  all.  as usual  let  me  know  if  i  missed  anything  cause  to  no  one’s  surprise : i’m  dumb !  now  that  i  have  4  muses  i  wanna  like,,,, make  sure  i  have  a  good  amount  of  plots  for  each  one  sooooo don’t  mind  me  if  i  roll  up  demanding  attention.  alright, bye love u plot with me pls imma do replies now

𝔹𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥  /  24

leigh-anne pinnock. cisfemale.  she/her.  ／  billie prescott  just pulled up blasting girls need love by summer walker — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-four year old singer, i’ve heard they’re really pessimistic,  but that they make up for it by being so audacious. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say small forgotten &  meaningless tattoos, patron filled shot glasses, and texts left on read . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! (  it’s me raq im sorry u have to see 4 muses from me )

intro  here

pinterest tba

vc: little mix  //  leigh-anne pinnock ( * possibly summer walker im. still debating ) 

tl;dr :  her  parents  were  divorced,  which  sent  her  into  a  crazy  phase  of  running  away  and  not  trusting  anyone  around  her.  her  father  gave  up  on  her,  she  hates  her  mother  –  her  grandfather  billy  is  the  only  person  who  seemed  to  continue  to  care  and  support  her .  she’s  still  quite  untrusting,  her  best  defense  mechanism  being  sarcasm  and  a  little  bit  of  coldness.  she’s  not  the  best  lover  cause  she  doesn’t  believe  in  all  that  but  she  is  a  rather  loyal  friend.  if  you  know  any  of  my  older  muses  she’s,,, a  margo  lite.  margo  with  some  goals  and  direction .

current  connections :  

best  friends :  girls  of  equilibrium,  harris,  milena ,  kami 

i-- lmao that’s it i’m working on the rest

wanted  connections: 

party  friends 

bad influences on her

good  influences on her

people she’s a bad influence on

someone  new  to  the  industry  that  she’s  protective  over

casual  flings

exes 

anything pls

𝔻𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘  /  23

 normani. cis-female. she/her. ／  dove darling just pulled up blasting pressing me by rico nasty — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty three year old actress/musician, i’ve heard they’re really stubborn, but that they make up for it by being so vivacious . if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say early 2000s r&b playlists, princess cut diamonds, and shiny lipgloss over perfectly lined lips . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble !

intro here.

pinterest tba.

vc:  doja  cat  &  normani

she’s  a  hollywood  starlite  but  also  kinda  a  meme.  daughter  of  an  actor  and  a  socialite  –  dove  comes  from  bunches  of  money.  she’s  a  bit  spoiled,  but  that  doesn’t  really  make  her  any  less  friendly.  tends  to  expect  people  to  like  her  cause  she’s  so  good  at  pretending.  still,  she  balances  that  with  being  genuine.  often  described  as  surprisingly  quirky in  the  media  dove  is   honestly  too  fucking  silly  for  her  own  good.   probably  anime  trash  on  the  low.  your pr  team’s  wet  dream  thanks  to  her  squeaky  clean  public  reputation .   just  because  she’s  never  been  caught  doing  something  bad –  definitely  does  not  mean  she’s   an  angel  by  any  means.  

current connections:

best / close  friends:  marnie,  kaia ,  maeve,  parker, jack,  allie, ashley , 

current  pr boyfriend :  brodie

childhood best friend: milena

ex on good terms:  rhett  

exes on bad terms: harris

flirtationship:  logan

party friends: angel

ex fiance: harris

wanted connections:

party friends aka people dove really only hangs with in passing,  usually  after  a  few  drinks .

ex on bad terms  there  probably  aren’t  many  of  these !  but,  give  her  one  that  just  really doesn’t  like  her  bc  they  dated  after  her  engagement  was  called  off and she  was  more  emotionally  unavailable  than  ever.

ex pr relationships:  self  explaintory  but,  i’d  like  to  see maybe  one where they  fell for  her  and  she’s  like “lmao this is fake… relax.”

enemies ! the more the better to balence out how many friends she has skajafs

anything else!

ℕ𝕠𝕖𝕝 𝕃𝕒𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 / 22

―   chance perdomo. he/him. cismale.  ／  noel laurent  just pulled up blasting a boy is a gun by tyler, the creator  — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-two year old rapper, i’ve heard they’re really reckless, but that they make up for it by being so altruistic. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say rolled up sleeves on an oversized sweater, missed 2am calls, messy notebooks filled with lyrics. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble !

intro here

pinterest tba

vc: kevin abstract

aka   gay   panic .  my mother  trucking  baby.  period.  too  kind  to  ever  really  stand  up  for  himself.  my  one muse  that  is  definitely  a  pacifist  and  avoids  confrontation  at  all  costs  – unless you’re  coming  for  someone  he  loves. ( but tbh even  then  he  doesn’t  really  want  smoke sgkads)   literally  just  a  sweet  boy. super  soft  inside  and  out,  loyal  to  a  fault,  and  overall  well meaning.   nurturer /  dad  friend .  will  often  ignore  his  own  problems  simply  for  what  he  thinks  is  the  greater  good  of  his  friends.  selfless  to  a  fault.   tendency  to  fall  into  bad  situations  thanks  to  his  reckless  nature  and  inability  to  say  no.

current  connections:

best  /  close  friends:  malachi,  future  iridescence  boys,  milena,  brodie,  maeve, marnie, 

neighbor /  light  meaningless  admiration / neighbors : harris

complicated not ( but definitely ) boyfriend: scout

weird terms: samyr 

he’s  scared  of  them: parker lmao

past  hookups: valentina

friendzoned  friends :  kaia

sister: hallie 

wanted  connections:

more  of  the  irridesence  boys  ( deadass  the  next  person  who  brings  one  of  them  will  get  free  dash  icons  from  me.  any  style.  i’m  begging.  bribery?  it  works !  )

unlikely  friends !

exes  on  bad  terms  and  good   terms.

people  he  produces  for .

anything  else  your  sweet  lil  head  desires !

𝕊𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕥.𝕁𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 / 23

luke hemmings. cismale. he/him. ／  scotty  st.james  just pulled up blasting despicable by grandson — that song is so them ! you know, for a(n) twenty-three year old musician, i’ve heard they’re really  detached ,but that they make up for it by being so venturesome . if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say old guitars, the smell of cigarettes and bourbon, and hundred dollar bills thrown in the air . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( it’s me! the raq )

intro

pinterest here

vc: 5sos /  luke hemmings

a  hot…. mess  tbh.  scott’s   been  through  so  much  so  he’s  really  guarded ,  over  protective ,  and self  loathing  as  hell.  tendency  to  keep  everyone  at  an  arms  length  unless   you’re  someone  very  special  to  him  and  does  not  deal  well  with  whatever  he  deems  betrayal.  though,  that  doesn’t  stop  him  from  being  an  absolute  buffoon  when  it  comes  to  seriously  committing. as  a  side  effect  though,  if  you’re  on  the  list  of  people  he  really  fucks  with  he  will  fight  for  you.  also,  will  fight  cause  he’s  short  tempered  and  shit  at  expressing  himself.   really  fears  abandonment   seriously.  lowkey  scared  of  the  dark  eye – :( he’s  such  a  sweet  boy  on  the  inside  but  outwardly  a  prick  like  99.9% of  the  time.

current  connections:

best  /  good  friends:  brodie ,  harris ,   maeve ,   gus  and  parker

enemies:  angel / harris

acquaintances ( aka  friends  but  he’s  too  much  of  a  dick  to  claim  them ):   ashley,   kaia??

his sister but he doesn’t know it :  ashley 

ex on  really  bad  terms:  genevieve /  marnie

adoptive sibling: stas, scout 

childhood  girlfriend  /  something  really  complicated :  maeve

wanted  connections:

unrequited crush on him because im sure he milked that bc he wants affection w/o the commitment

party “friends”  friends  is  so  loose because  he…  never  calls  more than like 4  ppl  his  friend  but  he  treats  them  like  friends akass

a very  bad ex  pr  relationship  that  he  publicly  cheated  on  so  they  could  end  things  because  he  literally  can’t  fucking  stan  pr  shit akjdfas

neighbors !

an enemies with  benefits Perhaps? dont see that going further than they bicker but also smash ig sakfdjafd

anything else !

[actingdeep]

Jean & Cat

Give me your hand. Only give 'yes' or 'no' answers for now. We will go back later at the end. Close your eyes. I'm going to start by saying the Lord's Prayer.        "Okay."        That was all Lorraine could say these days. She would eat oatmeal when we set a bowl for her and she would smile. We put a red cigarette in her fingers and told her to inhale. She would cough twice in an elderly way, with sunken eyes staring straight forward, and she would smile.        We shifted our intimate yet quaint and twisted car songs and dialogues to the back porch around 6 a.m., after tiptoeing past conked couple Jean and Ryan crashing on their living room floorbed, making coffee, using the restroom and watering the silly-looking dog. There is a very alien type of relaxation that comes with being the last ones alive from a late night civil war on your own good health, with everyone else defenseless and asleep like regrettable casualties.        The horizon stretched and yawned. Past our feet, in the dew-covered grass, layed the sheepdoglike Lily, with her green bone flinging around her teeth. Cat had abilities within her revealing dormant truths and hidden pasts in others. I had amphetamines within me releasing all boring skepticism and reason. By the end of the night, she had given me a personal palm reading. The accuracy was daunting at first (and still is). It was a superstitious and almost laughable act, yes; but it was pinnacle altruism--and at that moment, after all these years, it was finally clear to me that she was my friend.        I was feeling a little effete as a hidden star burnished the scale of an overripe and infirm world. Cat and I had inadvertently stayed up all night. We were either still drunk, or low-key tweaking, or probably both. Our eager spirits were about to be given another boost out of their usual pockets of time and space. We lounged with sleepless energy in squat gray outdoor chairs on the small back porch, with blowing trees and birds singing in the early summer morning. Jean had already long fallen asleep on her living room floorbed, and now that I finally had Cat out of the car, I could let my blood cool between easy nature and cheap science.        The dome of the pipe we were smoking Annie from caught some outside debris from the wind that was blowing and made a slight brownish blemish on the inside, which made the taste of the rolling smoke a little less clean than the previous hits. Many a time when Jean and I were gulping down cherry-flavored vodka around this time six or seven years ago, in the bedroom right behind Cat's, when they still had their old house, I had never fathomed a table could turn so drastically: the table being my relationship with these two women--mother and daughter--over time frames scattered and separated by intermittent spaces of buildup and decay. The days when talking to Cat filled me with dread seemed like false memories when I looked at her now. I almost liked her more than Jean these days--a funny thought, indeed.        "Are you still hungry?"        "Okay."        At 4 a.m. we were back from the bar, and pulled in the driveway of Jean's grandparent's house. She struggled to shut her car door and sauntered inside. I followed, but before I made it in the house, I heard my name called back from behind me from the driveway. I turned to see Cat gesturing for me under the dim car light. She was looking around in the car for something I don't remember what. I got back in to help her search for something likely of the highest unimportance. As we began to talk more, we ended up being in the car for at least an hour. When Cat begins to chatter with you, an angel should come down from Headache Heaven to give you a Valium and a bucket of popcorn. We hadn't talked very much all night, only because once she dropped off Jean and I at the bar, she didn't come in to join us finally until around the last half hour we were there, where I would eventually start a scene that would close the entire bar for the night.        We laughed about that, and caught up with one another in general about the changes and differences in our respective current lives. Her overall pleasantness caught me off-guard, somewhat. As conversations in parked vehicles usually go, especially with our current bodily chemical states, we eventually graduated from serious discussion, to banter, to no words--just full duet performances to bands like The Violent Femmes and Fleetwood Mac, stridulate and true.        This is nothing like using Tarot cards. Those things are complete bull shit. I am going to try to knock something loose here.        They're screaming again: this time, passively-aggressively around the edges of the room, little hash symbols and asterisks and ampersands tunneling in the air and in and out of Lorraine's smiling ears. At first, the day was calm: quiet snores, with the T.V. playing The Price is Right, as some were still laid out on the floor asleep, some in chairs with coffee and paper, awake. The small house seemed much more open than it should have been. I watched the game show and sat on the couch next to Brenda, Cat's girlfriend, as she was scrolling her finger on a phone screen and grimacing a little. Jean's disheveled head was zzzing right next to my left foot. I put back large gulps of the coffee Brenda made me to put off my ineludible crash, and had cigarettes on the bright, thin clean carpet.        Brenda started it; it was around 11:30 a.m. Grunting, she staggered over to Cat's floorbed to lean down, and WHUP!, smack her on her overturned body, making her yelp in a terrible way, like a little, running dog that pivoted wrong and twisted it's paw. Some moments you don't want to ever remember--that is--until you really can't. She had only been asleep for about twenty minutes, and immediately:        "Fuck! What is...what is wrong with you?" cried Cat, still stridulate.        "Who's all these motherfuckers in yer phone messagin' ya? Always fuckin' around on me, ain't ya? Don't give a rat's ass about me."        "I don't talk to anyone, Brenda. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"        "Ah, bull shit," waved Brenda, turning away like a troll.        "Fuck you!"        "Fuck you right back, bitch."        "I haven't gotten any sleep all night, Brenda. I was up talking to Derek all night, and I just fucking fell asleep."        "Well, good morning bitch!"        And so on. This match lasted hours; piercing echoes branching off into littler sub-arguments (but just as loud) over other things they thought would be good also brought up, neither showing mercy, except to make a jeer and cackle at the other's expense. Dan had already taken Ryan to his morning college class and hadn't gotten back yet, so between sleeping Jean, contented Lorraine, and highly tired I, no one was attempting to dampen the vicious quarrel in any way. I was sitting quietly, looking down at my feet and Jean's stirring hair ball, not from lack of sleep, but from the plain child greenness of these two women.        I knew Cat as a married woman to a husband, once. But no surprise came to me when I met her current girlfriend (womanfriend). I knew this was more of an emotionally-hinged relationship and sexually less so; only the emotions in use were nothing but petulant combativeness, desperation, and cold resentment; they were fools together. After a while, crash impending, I would simply walk outside, away from it all, until the screams muffled themselves in the distance.        "Okay."        Dan was the man of the house, and also Cat's dad. He was a few years shy of sixty years. Although I had never met him before, having stayed the night at his house, he was quite jolly and approachable. He smoked cigarettes with the front door open. His wife Lorraine sat by him in a low-back rocking chair, onlooking. The rooms of the house were typical in the grandparently sense: white-gold ceiling fan, porcelain figurines behind glass cases, mini fish tank, placemats on multiple kitchen tables, a smiling woman sitting in a smiling rocking chair, big television. The only thing out of place was the smoking; it was a subtle invasion of a seemingly innocent atmosphere, akin to squeezing your girlfriend's ass at church service. I couldn't believe I was smoking a square on a davenport.        Did you know the dead see the future?        Back in school, when Jean and I dated as teenagers, her mother Cat was in a seriously disobliging state--dependent on drugs like Xanax and methadone. She would stay in her room twenty-four seven and roar at us to turn the music down. She only left the house when absolutely necessary, and had a round, evil scorn forever in her floating eyes. She was ponderous, choleric and painstakingly contrary, instigating daily screaming matches with her husband, or daughter, or both. She was always in carping pain, and loved to spite her old pasts to herself in drugged, futile insanity. When she would bring her mom her dinner trays, Jean usually took accusation and insult as gratuity. On the occasions she was in good spirits (which usually implied she was unusually zapped), she would talk to you for what seemed like long hours about things like ghosts or glory days if you weren't careful to sneak past her bedroom door, which was permanently ajar, with a low, rambling sound leaking out of it always. I loved being in Jean's room more than anywhere in those days. I remember a pink sheet covering an overhead window making every movement and shadow a cotton candy daydream, sitting on a stack of two single mattresses, with us both leaning against a wall with blanketed legs and her kitten, soft and white between us, with secret, window eyes.        And there would be Jean: beautiful and youthful in blonde and black and pink and brown eyes. She was in the school's color guard and I would watch her practice double and triple rifle spins in her backyard for hours, smoking dirt weed to her music playlists. We were underage drinkers; but she always had a guy to buy alcohol for us (to them, just her), and once he would drop it off, she would cutely thank him and send him away, bringing it into her room where I waited, and we would drink from the bottle, giggling; or, we would just stay in her room for hours to avoid Cat by playing music, taking pictures, or just making each other laugh hysterically in various ways. I hope I never forget that laugh.        "Okay, honey."        We carried our drinks over to a rounded booth in the corner and talked for a while, saying hello to the barkeep Stephen as we walked in, and to all the other puffy, smiling faces we recognized, but didn't know. It was just Jean and I right now, talking like we always could, no matter where or when we ever were. Apparently, Cat was sticking around the parking lot for a while to connect to the internet on her phone for something rather (or was she?), and selling soupcons of various pills here and there to her bar regular buddies, amiably, with wrinkled eye corners.        Something is coming through. A man with a flattop military haircut. I also see an older man sitting in an easy chair. How well do you remember your childhood? Does the name Tom mean anything to you?        Jean and I sat near the DJ booth, which wasn't really a booth inasmuch as it was a large man sitting in a folding chair with a laptop. We laughed, but were loving what he was playing. Her and I have always been able to listen to music together comfortably for long periods of time, often with naps and cool silences. In the moment, I felt that we were actually a good couple when we were seventeen, even though it only lasted a couple weeks, tops; but being friends was barely different, and easy to do. She had many boyfriends, one at a time, in constant replicating sequences--one, and another, and another. I never minded that--it is a task for most people to be alone. Ryan was her current boyfriend, but she didn't bring him to the bar--and not just because he was underage. She used men like a body pillow or an aspirin; leave them at the house and use them for comfort as needed (and they were always young). She was dull now. I had to entertain her because she was dull, and I loved her; but of course, in loving her, I was dull, also. After some rounds, we would smile more easily.        I asked when her mom was going to join us, because, to this point, I really had no clue as to what Cat was even doing, us having sat there drinking, unjoined for an hour or two now.        "She's in the car, smoking speed. That's her drug of choice now." After I gave off a questioning look, she continued: "I really don't mind it. I mean, at least she can function."        Hmmm.        I rounded my eyes, and curled my wet lips. I excused myself, and bolted outside towards the car. I knew Cat would share; greed a moral hit-man. The dim car light was on across the street.        After twenty minutes or so, I sat back down in the booth and readjusted my eyes, feeling fresh. Jean was standing by the DJ booth.        "Do you take requests?"        "I take donations."        An older woman with a strained gait and a proud, pauper air waddled up to our booth and gave a friendly hello-how-are-you to Jean, but not to me. Jean had a subtle knack for being pleasurable and forebearing to humdrum dishwater persons, the subjective soul inside me under a spell of well whiskey, and also Cat's treat, slowly making my thoughts increasingly insubordinate here.        "Aye! A Jeanie in a bottle!"        "Hi, it's good to see you."        (No it isn't. She's foul!)        "Been missin' ya round this place. Where ya been, girly?"        "Just working, and taking care of grandma."        "Oh, bless your heart! How is she?        (She's okay.)        "Y'know--good days and bad days."        (Too bad this Jeanie can't grant wishes; she'd make it no days.)        At one point, I reached over and took a sip out of Jean's beer bottle. The woman slowly straightened her mouth and furrowed her brow, glaring at me.        "You're disrespectful."        "I bought this. I've bought all her drinks." A cheap maneuver. She turned to Jean:        "You should find better friends."        I saw Jean's mouth twitch a little, then turn up again. "This is my oldest friend," she defended me cooly, with an undertone of hate only I could detect. I smiled at the woman as if to say, "How about that?" She had a countenance that was one part protectiveness for Jean, another part antipathy for me, and a third part, something I couldn't place, but that was definitely for herself.        "It's okay, honey, he's really okay," said Jean sedatively. Jean looked more allayed than I was once the woman had eventually returned to her table.        The front door was slowly staving off tottering bodies as the night bloomed into day. As she passed by them, coming back in from a cigarette, Jean looked up and noticed an old school friend of hers, who was talking to a man that happened to be sitting right next to me, at the far end of the bar. This made her face light right up, I noticed, which contented me quite well, as Jean in general wasn't particularly boisterous. She skipped up to the old friend and gave a kind and delighted hello. But this girl was obviously completely disinterested in her, and gave her a lowbred, patronizing sneer.        "Okay."        Freshly cold-shouldered, Jean rubbed her arms, and became specially downcast, then: this was not okay. Seeing her so depreciated so abruptly sparked a most tender agony within me that would prod my heart, even under the many obtunding whiskeys I had imbibed over the night. I called the insipid girl's attention, and seconds later, she looked up at me, and when she looked up at me, I vengefully, and without restriction, said:        "What kind of rude, phony, fucking bitch are you?" Her body didn't move, but her fingers and face started to contort as she glared at me. She dropped her jaw a little, and then clenched it, and widened her thick, black eyes as a fire rose in them. Jean stood back a little, and the girl began to defend herself in belligerent fury, while I held my own ground in the meantime. Every sentence she spoke bumbled over the next; she was clearly plastered, and in rage. I continued to fuel that rage as I rebounded spurring insults like "Fuck you!" and "What do you know?" with gibes like "I can't! I'm outta cash!" and "Fish swim, birds fly, and you're a cunt!"        This soon started a mini-uproar on that end of the bar, and very quickly had all the remaining bar-goers perking up from their glasses. Some people began to hover nearby us gingerly, in case of the possibility that things could get physical, as her and I continued to altercate, teams now forming behind us.        After about three more minutes of her drunkenly calling me names and I relentlessly making fun of her for being fake and angry, the bartender Stephen kicked her out. He was good friends with Jean (a regular there), and had saw us together all night, and must have been partial. He told the friends of the girl I accosted, now a tornado of nails and hair and fury, body still unmoved, to take her outside, and so they did. He locked the doors, then turned to give me a face of exhausted vitriol. I still sat there at the long bar next to my friend Cat, the medium, and her deservedly defended daughter, one of my most nascent and esteemed loves from years and years ago. Because of our mutual friend Jean, he would only give me a little hell for causing such a row, and I gave him a most disingenuous apology.        We reset and regrouped, and were soon out the door. What a perfect pleasure it is to mislay all complacency and trepidation, and to actuate defiance in the face of all of our false, permeable cordialities, and to see just how easily it can all fall away. To feel what I did to be an imperative as to glorify a strayed memory of a forgotten devotion only moreover authenticates my conviction that the ways we go, and the happenings in our lives, occur for no reason at all but for our own attempts at nullifying an unavoidable and steadfast state of lifelong suffering. Jean thanked me for standing up for her, and gifted me an old look and smile that, so many years ago, I would have never believed I had forgotten.        "Okay."

[elatedmarvel]

Shadow: Part 9

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky rescue someone from their past. Being hunted down, they bring you to the Avengers. Will it be enough to keep you safe?

A/N at the end this time.

Masterlist  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

Waking up was easy this morning. After the emotionally draining moments with Bucky yesterday, the night was full of physically exhausting acts. You smile to yourself as you think of how amazing he was. His strong and safe arms loosely draped over you as you burrowed your head into his chest.

Looking up at him, you traced his nose, and lips with the tip of your finger, trying to make sure he was real. He looked so perfect and angelic that your heart swelled knowing this man was yours.

His lips curled into a smile and gently pressed a kiss to your finger as he awoke. Waking up with you was always his favorite thing, but now it was in a bed that the two of you would share. You would be there every morning and he couldn’t wait. Opening his eyes, his cheeks flushed as he saw the look of pure adoration on your face.

“Morning” he rasped as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You smiled and just buried your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and it grounded you to the moment. He was real and right besides you like he would be for the rest of your life.

“Morning” you breathed out “sleep well?”

“Always, when you’re here” he said sincerely.

“We should get up and use that state of the art kitchen you installed” you smiled at him.

“And she cooks too. The whole package” he teases.

You laugh at him and slide out of bed, grabbing the closest item of clothing, his shirt, and letting it swallow your frame.    

The rest of the day passes in similar fashion, Bucky and you lazily exploring what your new home had to offer. Small but passionate kisses, touches, and hugs were exchanged as you cooked and he cleaned the dishes. You sat out on the balcony that was attached to your living room and looked out at Manhattan wrapped in a blanket and him. Talking about anything and everything and it all seemed to fall into place.

Six o’clock rolled around and after a steamy shower with Bucky you were sitting in front of your vanity doing your makeup for the gala Stark was throwing tonight. You stared at yourself and almost didn’t recognize the person that stared back.

She was without a doubt happy and very much in love. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, a healthy and natural flush to your cheeks, and a permanent smile. You could get used to this, to living with Bucky and not having a care in the world. You didn’t ever think this would be your future but now here you sit, happiest you have ever been and you didn’t want it to end.

So busy staring at your own reflection you missed Bucky coming up behind you until he started to massage your shoulders.

“You look ravishing” he whispers into your ear before playful nipping at it.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” you moan. Meeting his eyes in the mirror you stand up and turn to face him.

“This suit will probably get you laid Barnes” you smirk at him before slowly walking to the closet and pulling out the dress you had bought with Wanda and Nat yesterday. “But this dress will definitely get me laid.” you teased.

Stepping into the dress, Bucky’s eyes wandered your figured. It was so hard now not to take his eye off of you. Slowly, like a routine you turned so your back was facing him and lifted your hair up. Well trained from his soldat days, he quickly places one hand on your hip as the other pulls the zipper up and just like always goosebump erupted in his wake. It seemed like a full circle now, before he would undress you before you had to seduce someone. Now, he was the one that got to do both.

Tugging on the zipper one more time he stepped back as you spun around so he could see the front. You watched as his eyes went from shock and lust to awe and love.

“What do you think?” you whispered. The dress was a dark red that he said was his favorite color on you. Thin straps held the low cut sweetheart neckline that cinched perfectly at your waist and gave way to an a-line skirt that fell perfectly.

“I think that if anyone else even looks at you tonight, I might have to murder them. You are mine.” he growls as he places his arms around you protectively.

“Yours” you agree as you tenderly kiss him.

Stepping out of the elevator, it was like you were transported into another world. The decorations were so gold and bright it was almost gaudy. People dressed to the nines were talking or swaying on the dance floor as servers moved between the bodies. It was like a fairytale and prince charming was on your arm, leading you to where Steve, Nat and Sam stood nursing various drinks.

An hour later, you excused yourself to use the restroom. Coming out with your head down, brushing down your skirt, you bumped into someone.

“Sorry!” you apologize and look up. Your blood runs cold and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“No need to apologize my dear. But I will need you to come with me.” he deviously smiles before easily pulling you to a dark corner.

The moment you saw him you were in panic mode. Not being able to move, your lungs felt like they had stopped working. In front of you all you could see were the cruel eyes that had tortured you for days before Steve, Nat, and Bucky found you.

Alexi stood before you, looking like the doppelganger of his dead son, Fyodor.

Your eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for Bucky or anyone at this point. You located the back of his head easily by his tied up hair but he was across the room laughing with the rest of the Avengers. You wanted to scream at how carefree and joyous they looked when you were frozen in fear. Logically, you knew it looked like two people talking to each other to the untrained eye so no one would come and help you.

Looking him straight in the eyes, a chill ran down your spine when you saw his slimy smile.

“What do you want” you said, proud that you sounded assertive, not showing the gripping fear you felt.

“My son back.” he states “But, that is not going to happen, so the next best thing would be you, dead.”  

“You know that they are all here tonight. All I have to do is scream and the Avengers will be on you in seconds.” you try to reason with him.

“Ah my dear, that pretty head of your is obviously not filled with much.” he says as he traces your collarbone. You shrug him off and he retaliates by gripping your arm.

“Why do you think I chose tonight to come back to you?” he hisses. “Everyone has their guard down and there are civilians. See those servers?” he nudges his head to the burly men dressed in white shirts and black slacks. “We got here a little early to set up and left some gifts under the tables.” His other hand raises to the light so you can see the device, a simple black rod with a button on the end. “One click and it all blows, all those poor civilians. Not to mention how this building would just crumple, killing pretty much everything and one in a 3 mile radius.” and he sounds almost proud.

You can taste the bile in your mouth as you comprehend what he is saying.

“If I disappear they will know it’s you” you breath out, trying to find all possible ways out of this.

“That’s why you are going to break it off with your little Bucky. Tell him you don’t love him, that you are leaving because that is what you do best. Run. He and the rest of the heartbroken Avengers would never come for someone that didn’t want them.” and your eyes blur from the tears thinking about how you would have to lie and break their hearts.

But he was right, you were always a flight risk. If they thought you were leaving because you didn’t love him or them, they would never try to find you again. They were good people who believed that it was your decision to leave and try and respect it. That, and they would be too devastated to actually look. You knew he had you. It was over.

Nodding your head slightly he grins like a hyena, knowing you saw that you were in checkmate.

“Go tell them, now. Meet me downstairs, a black town car will be right outside the tower. Remember, one wrong move and boom.” he wolfishly grins and gestures.   

Moving past him it took you all your strength to walk towards the team and not shout at everyone to get out of the building. For a moment you were selfish enough to think what would happen if you just told them that ABA was here. But, looking around the room you saw too many smiling faces, happy men and women that were mothers and fathers and children and siblings of others. You couldn’t do that to the thousands if not millions of people it would destroy.

So you put on a tight smile and walked slowly to the table where your family sat. Forcing yourself to be cool and keep your poker face strong.  

“Y/N” Steve greeted “did you get lost on your way back or something?” he tried to joke but your face showed no sign of registering what he was saying.

“Кукла” Bucky questions, seeing no light behind your eyes.

You curse yourself for thinking that you could trick Bucky into thinking everything was fine. Mustering up all the courage you could, you looked at them one by one before uttering the words you never wanted to say.

“I’m leaving”

“Oh no! Are you not feeling well тень?” Nat questions, not understand the true weight behind your words.

“I feel fine” you lie between your teeth, “I mean, I’m leaving the team.”

Silence engulfs the small area as your friends look at you with bewilderment.

“Is this about ABA? Because you’ll be safe here and we can protect you and ourselves Y/N” Steve says and the rest of them nod in agreement. You do your best to suppress your emotions and give him a cold, hard stare.

“This isn’t about them” and you snort internally, “This isn’t where I’m supposed to be. I’m not meant for this.”

“You’re being silly тень” Nat starts but you cut her off.

“I do not want to be here and I do not want to be part of this family.” you force each word out, exaggerating here and family. A small part of you breaks as you see the crushed looks they try to hide.

Nodding to yourself, you steal a glance at Bucky who has been silent this entire time and you wish you hadn’t. He looks at you with such sorrow that you want to break down and tell him the truth. Too many civilians, you think to yourself, get through this and get downstairs.

You turn and almost run to the elevators when Bucky grabs your wrist, forcing you to collide with his solid mass as he holds on to you for dear life. He wraps his arms around your side as he tries to keep you with him, tries to keep his heart from leaving him.

“You’re lying” he says softly.

“No I’m not.” Yes I am.

“Did… did something happen I wasn’t aware of? We were happy…” he trails off, eyes searching your face for anything. But you knew you had to be strong, to out play him. You took a deep breath before settling your hands on his arms, trying to pry them off of you.

“No Bucky, you thought we were happy. I’m not meant for this, I can’t stay and certainly not with you.” All I want is to stay with you.

“So what, all of this was a lie? Everything you said about loving me and wanting a family?” he says with injury as you struggle against his hold.

“I never wanted any of it. I just didn’t know how to say no.” I want all of it, with you and only you.

“You can’t… I’m not going to let you… please…  I love you.” he tries to get the words out, but all he can do now is to beg you to tell him it was all a joke and you loved him. He feels like he’s drowning in the pain and nothing can save him.

“I don’t feel anything. I never wanted any of this and I never loved you.” I’m so sorry. I love you so much it physically hurts.

The last words twisted his face into pure agony and you couldn’t do it anymore. You had to go before he broke you. Quickly rubbing three circles with your thumb on his arm that was holding you, you ripped yourself away from him and fled.

You got to the elevators, turned around and instantly regretted doing so. Bucky hadn’t moved from his position in the middle of the room, looking at you with such betrayal and hurt that you wanted to throw up. Tears bubbled to your eyes as the doors closed and you slid to the ground. Not being able to hold yourself up anymore with the grief that flooded you.  

The ‘ding’ of the doors opening brought you back to the moment as you tried your hardest to delay all of your movements. You were walking out of safety, out of your home and into the lion’s den.

The black town car rolled up to the front of the tower and you had to use all your strength to not flee and walk calmly towards it. A tall man stepped out and opened the backdoor for you, ready to pounce on you with any slight foreign movement. You slid into the car slowly before he slammed the door shut loudly and got back into the car.   

“Y/N!” you heard his familiar voice shout and you saw Bucky running out of the lobby, straight towards you.

“Did you tell them?” the driver screamed at you.

“No! I swear!” you cried. He looked at you for a split second more before deciding you looked too heartbroken to be lying and slammed on the gas.

“Y/N” you could hear and you twisted your head back to see him running behind the car until he could not longer keep up, all while bawling out your name. He was getting further and further away until he was just a small speck.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying anymore and the floodgates opened. A sob tore through you as you realized what you had lost. The magnitude of what you did hit you. I’m sorry, you repeated over and over in your head.

In a matter of a few minutes, you had lost everything again.

Translations:

Кукла- doll  

тень - shadow

A/N: I am so so sorry, I totally cried and broke my own heart writing this (runs and hides forever). Thank you so much for reading! ~J 

Part 10 

Taglist:

@bexboo616  @sebstanwassup  @buckyb4rnacle​  @captainbuckyreid��  @demoncrypt1066  @elaacreditava  @writing-soldiers  @aroyaldarknessblr  @cumberbabe92  @tearsandbloodofmyenemies  @oceanshockey  @astronomyturtle  @owhatshername1  @shadowingthemoonlight  @jimmyisfab  @littlepartofheaven  @sadanddeadsoul  @rhaeneris  @mcuimxgine  @isnow-0r-never  @sleepretreat  @learisa  @beefybuffybucky  @death-by-teacup

[taenys]

♢ shinee world v in la ♢

alright so I’ve finally gotten home and have been able to write a detailed fan account of the whole thing which includes their airport arrival!!! the whole thing ended up being over 2.5k :’))) unsurprising considering who I am (resident essay writer of the internet) but i did try to keep it as short and to the point as possible. 

anyways if any of y’all are interested in reading a really emo and sappy essay about shinee and what was undeniably the best day of my life from my seat in the pit, read on!

Airport arrival: I saw Jonghyun’s face so clearly. Key went by me in a flash clinging to him, so I got a clear profile shot. Taemin’s face was covered but his beautiful eyes were visible and I got a very clear look at him. Minho as well, although he was wearing sunglasses, he was tall and brooding. Onew passed before I could see him. Taemin looked at me wide-eyed, inquisitively. I was in front of their van on the sidewalk making hearts at them while they got in and got ready to enter traffic to leave and Minho and Taemin got a clear frontal view of me doing so and both of them smiled, but Taemin’s eyes were on me for quite a while. Once they started to drive away, I waved frantically at them and Minho waved back at all of us. 

Jonghyun’s face caught me off guard. I was in a stunned silence when I saw him, his poreless, airbrushed, perfectly chiseled angelic beautiful unreal face. The entire time I said nothing. No words came out of my mouth, no screams. I was silent. In complete and utter AWE. I’ve never experienced that before meeting an idol. At SNSD’s fanmeet, I screamed (to the dismay of Jessica lol). At every concert I’ve screamed as is customary lol. When I saw f(x) at the airport I called out their names. At EXO’s fanmeet I screamed to get Kris’ attention. But seeing SHINee, right in front of me, their beautiful faces materialized, and even more breathtaking than I could possibly comprehend, the 5 boys I have adored so completely for 7+ years, who’s music has been a constant soundtrack playing on repeat every day of my life…I couldn’t formulate words or sounds to express all those emotions. There were none that could do them justice. The love I felt was so fucking overwhelming, as soon as their van started to drive away and Minho’s waving ceased I broke. I cracked. The suffocating sense of adoration and joy at seeing them, seeing my boys, my loves, and my reasons for existence, I fucking SOBBED. Not small tears but full on snot inducing yelps. I literally choked on my emotions. I had to run back into the airport to my mom to hide these tears from everyone else because they were just so ridiculous lol. Everyone else was all giddy and going over their fancams and screaming with each other. I just cried and cried. I could not believe it. I couldn’t process the whole experience. I love them so much, I can’t even begin to tell you guys just how much. I realized it at that airport when I saw them. It was such a different experience than all my other crazy kpop idol meeting experiences. 

Also, just as a note, the whole thing about them being mobbed was greatly exaggerated. It only looked that way on camera because we had all unfortunately formed our organized lines in front of the doors, but they ended up coming down an escalator so we all had to run over and form NEW lines from the escalator to the door and so it looks like we all tried to swarm them. They all tend to walk really fast so we didn’t even have the opportunity to form new lines since by the time we got to them, they were already nearing the exit so at that point we all just tried to see them and welcome them as best we could. There were only like 1-2 fans who were being disrespectful and obnoxious, but trust me when I say most of us were filming and following from a safe enough distance or at least trying to.

The concert: As soon as I found my seat, which was in row D in the pit aka the 4th row from the stage, my heart stopped. I was so close. SO FUCKING CLOSE to the stage SHINee would be on. And I was right in the center too, I’d have a clear center super close view of them, and the realization of that was utterly staggering. The energy around me was filled with excitement and glee, but I was in my own little bubble of heart quenching awe and disbelief. I could see my mom and my sister in the row behind me and I gave my mom the “Can you believe this is happening” look and she smiled and nodded. She and Ruby (sis) were experiencing their own waves of excitement but I wasn’t with them to share in it. I was alone where I sat but that was what ended up happening during the ticket buying bonanza. I was able to score 1 pit ticket, and we all agreed it would be mine since I was the “main” fan in our little trio. SHINee was ours, but first and foremost they were mine. But luckily my mom and sister got seats together and only a row behind me, so they were just as close as I was to the stage. While we waited for the show to start the venue played their music and the crowd chanted along to most of them. I sang too with my eyes closed, ready for the inevitable. I had to told myself in the weeks approaching the date that I would do my best to study and analyze every member’s face and mannerisms as best I could. Since I knew they’d move around and switch sides a lot, I knew I’d have an opportunity to see every member at some point.  When the venue got dark and the light blared and the first VCR started my heart was racing a million miles an hour. My mind was repeating “this is real, this is happening, they’re going to come out and you’re going to see them, you’re going to actually fucking SEE them. The boys who’ve made your entire life worth living for the past almost 8 years are going to be right in front of you, singing all your favorite songs (because all their songs are my favorites, LITERALLY), and you’re close enough that they’re going to see YOU too,” that last thought being the MOST mind blowing of them all. The people sitting directly in front of me were luckily not taller than me, so my head was higher than theirs when we stood which meant SHINee would get a clear shot at my face when they looked in this direction. I opted to wear these cute aqua cat ears with flowers on them in my hair to hopefully draw their eye. 

Finally the VCR ended and we all stood up and we knew it was time. We screamed. I screamed “I’m not emotionally ready oh my god” to the girl sitting next to me (lol). I wasn’t ready and I don’t think I ever WOULD be ready. How do you prepare to see your favorite humans of all time? They opened with Hitchhiking and I was screaming the lyrics along with them, and oh my god they were so close to the edge of the stage, closer to me than I even imagined, I could see every detail of their faces and it was breathtaking. At one point Jonghyun looked directly into my eyes and held my gaze for a few seconds and smirked. What I noticed first was, they’re all so much more beautiful in real life than is even humanly possible, and secondly they were all dancing SO HARD and with SO MUCH INTENSITY it was stunning. They were dripping in sweat after the first 3 songs but MAN did they dance with every ounce of strength they had. Their passion and drive was just astonishing and inspiring to witness. Onew’s dancing was especially impressive. Taemin’s dancing is so fluid and poetic and I can’t believe I got to witness his shirtless godlike body in person so close WOW. Minho is so much more godly than you can imagine. Jonghyun is small (smol) and darling with those sharp cheekbones and puppy eyes. Key is so intense and cat-like in his features which are more defined in real life. Onew is pure gorgeousness, his smile is the most beautiful thing that exists and will ever exist. It’s hard to believe any of them could be so beautiful. I won’t go song by song describing how they looked and how they felt because I’d have to write over 10 pages and who has time to read all of that lmao I’ll just point out the “highlights.” Key’s English. I know we all know it’s great but hearing it in real life was an experience. He sounds so confident and cool, I adore it with my life. When he told us that this was real and we weren’t seeing them through youtube I fucking BALLED. Because that’s exactly what was so shocking and emotional for me, that I was actually seeing them. And they were fucking seeing me too. Minho and Key being playful and silly speaking English added 10 years to my life. Honestly, Minkey are so important. Their banter is the best thing. I couldn’t believe I was experiencing my otps in real life too LMAO. They were all exactly how I knew they’d be. Taemin would be shy and smiley, like the baby he is, Onew would be aloof and dorky and too precious for words, Jonghyun would be flirty and silly and not try out any English lol, Minho would be so cool and sexy during performances but turn into a sweet cinnamon roll during talks, and Key would be the leader, confident and charismatic and intense. They were all so perfect. Jongtae hugging, Taemin speaking English, it was all too cute to witness. 

Minho spent a lot of time on my side so I got the most fanservice from him. It was unfuckingbelievable. He is an actual god among mortals I’m telling you. His endlessly long legs and slim abdomen, and that tiny gorgeous face with those huge expressive frog eyes and round lips, his entire existence is bliss. He looked at me and smiled a TON because I was making hearts. Taemin was in front of me at one point too, with nothing obstructing his view of my face since the people in front were small and he looked at me and smiled that babyish smiley of his that I live for. Key looked at me and raised an eyebrow curiously at one point as well. Onew got wide-eyed and excited when he saw me and a few others make the “MVP” with our hands during his line in replay. I can’t express enough just how fucking gorgeous and perfect their faces are. I can picture them all so fucking clearly in my mind, it gives me heart palpitations. Even my mom said afterwards at the hotel that there’s no way they’re real. Speaking of my mom, Taemin is the actual love of her life, so when he did his solo stage of Goodbye she snuck up to the front row just to watch him lol. Also during Savior, Minho came right over to their side and I looked behind me to see if my mom and sister would get any fanserivce since he had a clear view of them in the aisle seat they had, and sure enough I saw my mom smiling the biggest I’ve ever seen from her, and waving at him and he looked at her and smiled and waved back. When the fans around saw that interaction between them, they all started waving too, wanting to get a hello from him as well and so he obliged and started waving around the entire section. But the waving was started by my mom and she won’t let anyone forget it lol. “Remember when Minho waved at you and smiled” has been a constant phrase we’ve been saying at random intervals through the day. 

This day meant just as much to her as it did to me. Just seeing them perform was indescribable though. I’ve loved their music and choreo for so long, and witnessing it was a whole different experience. I saw them at SMTOWN, sure, but that was only for a few songs and I was a lot farther from the stage. And even when I think back to that concert, where I saw SNSD and EXO and f(x) and so many other performers, SHINee’s has ALWAYS stood out to me as the most memorable and emotional. SHINee has always been my number one.  Seeing them for nearly 3 hours, I sang so loud and so hard (I kept my screaming to a minimum and focused on singing and doing fanchants so they’d see that we love their music here and despite the language barrier, we know their lyrics and hopefully they’d come back again someday soon). I lost my voice by the end and ended up with a sore throat and a fever the next day, but it was well worth it. I also couldn’t walk for the rest of the week lmao It was like I’d run a marathon after living a sedentary life for years and not doing any kind of training beforehand. My legs did not survive. And neither did my heart. I couldn’t listen to or watch anything SHINee related this whole week honestly. Even seeing pictures and fancams of the event (speaking of which, my sister got a fucking glorious fancam of Onew) hurt my heart and so I avoided everything like the plague. It ended too quickly. The whole experience ruined me though. I crave them so much more now. I want to save up to go to Korea to see them since I know they probably won’t do another US tour. I am going to live out the rest of my life just following their careers and loving them unconditionally as I do now, maybe even more so if that’s even possible. If I had the means and the money I’d probably drop everything and become a fansite owner who travels everywhere and sees them and even befriends them. 

Their music represents so much for me. It represents the bond I have with my mother most especially. Experiencing all of this with her made it so much more emotional. We’ve bonded over SHINee since the beginning. As soon as I discovered them nearly 8 years ago, I showed them to mom. She was the first person I showed a kpop video too and of course it was SHINee We watched Hello Baby and their other shows together, and she learned about them with me and grew to love them as much as I have. Her and I listened to their music more than anything and their songs, their passion, their existence gave her and I a sense of happiness and motivation in a difficult time in our lives. We all just…clung to SHINee’s music. Their music is just so fucking GOOD. She has her own copies of all their Korean albums in her car and they’re the only thing she listens to. It was my dream, my ultimate dream to go to a SHINee concert with her. I wanted her to see them. I saw them before at SMTOWN in 2012 and it was MAGICAL. My mom didn’t get to attend because we couldn’t afford another ticket but she was in the parking lot waiting to pick us up and decided to get off and wait inside to try and hear some of the concert and she says she heard Sherlock and saw glimpses of SHINee performing through the curtains in the venue and she cried. She cried because she was so happy that my sister and I were there seeing them, and she sang along to the song and felt like she was a part of that experience with us. And now she got to see them with us, and us with her, and it was pure and utter magic. 

Anyways, SHINee is my entire life and I will never be over this experience. But man oh man, loving them this much has only made the whole “post-concert depression” about a million times more painful and unbearable than anything I’ve ever experienced. Something that can only be cured by seeing them again. I NEED to see them again.

[timeflies1007-blog]

Doctor Who Reviews by a Female Doctor, Season 4, p. 2

The Doctor’s Daughter: This isn’t the worst episode of the reboot, but it might be the most emotionally unsatisfying. Producing a biological relative for the Doctor by putting his hand in a machine for a few seconds undercuts his grief about the loss of his people without really any payoff—his lackluster relationship with his daughter just doesn’t do enough to compensate for the notion that apparently getting Time Lords back into the world is a lot easier than we thought. There are a couple of nice moments in which the Doctor refers to his grief about his Time Lord family, but his sense of loneliness—usually taken very seriously by the show—is undermined more often than it is accentuated here.

           I’m not really sure why Martha is in this episode, as she doesn’t want to be there and there’s very little for her to do. She forms sort of a nice bond with one of the fish creatures, but the Hath are mostly so dull that Martha’s forced to wander around in a weird, personality-less void in which fish with legs stand around breathing. She’s not really missing out on much while she’s a captive of the Hath, as the human civilization is also entirely without interest. There’s a lot of talk about war, and then there’s a brief creation myth, and then one of the humans claims that peace and genocide are the same thing so that the Doctor can yell about violence and Jenny can point out how violent he is. We’ve had an awful lot of this theme (the Doctor thinks he is above violence! but also the Doctor is violent!) in the past couple of episodes, which would be fine if it were going anywhere interesting but it’s basically not. The plot twist—in which it is revealed that the war has been going on for only a matter of days—is genuinely pretty surprising, but it’s so difficult to invest in these characters or this world that it doesn’t mean very much.  

           Jenny herself is likeable enough, but is one of the clearest foray into Mary Sue territory that the show has ever done. She’s born perky, quick-witted, and intensely athletic, and can easily understand other people’s motives and characteristics in spite of having only just sprung into existence. Other talents include asking lots of questions so that we get exposition about stuff that we already know, doing back flips through laser beams, and flirting. The actress (Peter Davison’s daughter and Tennant’s future wife) does as much as she can with the material, and she really does have a very charming screen presence, but the script confines her so thoroughly to the “attractive, physically gifted woman” box that there’s not much for her to work with. Given her origins, it’s not surprising that her connection to the Doctor comes across as forced and artificial, but I just never buy any real emotional connection between them.

           I’m even more annoyed by the “death” of the daughter, as her return to life is weirdly emotionless and doesn’t follow any of what we know about Time Lord regeneration. This non-death also lands us with one of the worst-ever Doctor speeches. Tennant generally does grief and anger very well, but his shouty speech directed at the warring figures comes across as absolutely moronic. The Doctor has a tendency to tell other people what to do, which is somewhat justified by his years of experience in dealing with conflict, but it’s a lot more palatable when it’s tempered by his awareness of his own mistakes and problems. Here, he pretty straightforwardly tells the people of this planet to model their society around their consciousness of how much better than them he is, and it’s just absolutely insufferable. I do think that his claims that he “never would” engage in their destructive behavior are deliberate irony on the part of the show, in the sense that this season does give us fairly consistent reminders that the Doctor is always trying to distance himself from violence without ever quite succeeding. That makes sense of this scene’s role in the larger arc of the season, but it doesn’t explain why the character himself has so little self-awareness or so much willingness to lie to himself that he can bring himself to say nonsense like this.

           Donna is loveable as usual here, and I particularly like her insistence that the Doctor take seriously his connection to his daughter. She also describes the feeling of stepping off the TARDIS onto a new place as being like “swallowing a hamster,” which is pretty fabulous. (I could do without the Doctor sending a mechanical mouse toy to distract a guard because Donna’s “wiles” aren’t enough, though.) She just doesn’t play a large enough role in this story to save it from the cheap emotional foundation; the entire concept of “we need the Doctor to feel feelings, preferably loudly and angrily, let’s put a blonde in” is so tired by this point that it’s difficult to watch. C/C-

The Unicorn and the Wasp: And we’re back to good episodes for a while! This is easy to forget in light of the bigger, flashier episodes to come this season, but it’s very fun. Donna’s having a great time pretending to be a 1920s socialite, and the episode gives both Tate and Tennant a lot of opportunity to demonstrate their marvelous comedic timing. Meeting Agatha Christie at a country house when someone has been murdered is a similar enough idea to “The Unquiet Dead” and “The Shakespeare Code” that they actually have Donna make a joke about it, but it’s a premise worth repeating. I do think that Agatha Christie would have written a much better mystery than this one, as none of the twists are particularly effective and the resolution is moderately entertaining but unremarkable. Still, having a giant wasp attack a bunch of rich white people (aka WASPs) is a good joke, and watching the characters try to figure out what’s going on is fun even in the absence of a compelling mystery.

           Christie herself is generally pretty well-written, but among the major historical figures the show has portrayed, she’s not one of my favorites. Part of the problem is that the actress gets sort of upstaged by some of the other guest stars. The not-yet-famous Felicity Jones is a delight as a jewel thief, but the wonderful Felicity Kendal (one of the stars of the great 1970s comedy The Good Life) steals the show. I don’t think she’s really supposed to, as she’s a fairly minor character whose function is to have a dark secret that informs the mystery, but I find myself watching her rather than Agatha Christie when they’re on screen together. Nonetheless, the idea that the events of this episode are the reason why Christie disappeared for a few days gives it a nice sense of importance, and the revelation that her books are perpetual bestsellers is not quite as moving as the similar moment in “The Unquiet Dead” but is still quite lovely.

           The heart of this story is not the character herself, really, but rather the whimsical adventures that ensue from the Vespiform’s absorption of her writing. A couple of serious moments exist, including Donna’s willingness to kill the Vespiform when the Doctor refuses, but for the most part this episode is all about the comedy. There are silly flashbacks, exaggerated plot twists, and at one point there’s a lengthy comedic bit about the Doctor cleansing poison from his system. There are also lots of accidental references to books that Christie hasn’t written yet, and Donna unsuccessfully tries to get herself into a copyright page. Nothing really remarkable happens here, but it’s just so bubbly and charming that the episode is an absolute joy to watch. A-/B+

Silence in the Library: Even if the story itself had been boring, I would have really enjoyed this episode just for the beautiful, terrifying library in which it takes place. I love libraries, and if I were in charge of the show we’d probably have a library setting about once a season. Happily, this library is home to a compelling story, with a spooky new set of monsters and a marvelous debut for River Song.

           River is definitely the highlight of this two-parter, and Alex Kingston is immediately fantastic as the doomed time-traveler. It’s a bold move to introduce a new character, heavily imply that she’s the Doctor’s wife, suggest that there are lots more adventures with her in the Doctor’s future, and then kill her by the end of the two-episode story. I can’t think of many other characters on the show who have been introduced with quite so much fanfare, and so it’s a testament to Kingston’s performance that the emotional impact of the character exceeds the impressiveness of the plot to which she is attached. She has immediate chemistry with the Doctor, and her distress at having met a version of the Doctor who doesn’t know her unfolds beautifully across the episode. In spite of this distress, though, there’s just such a tremendous sense of enjoyment and energy in everything she does, as if she can’t help relishing the challenge and the adrenaline in spite of everything that’s going wrong. The rest of her crew aren’t quite as interesting, and Miss Evangelista’s brainlessness is a bit overplayed, although I do like the brief friendship she strikes up with Donna. This two-parter is basically about the chemistry between River and the Doctor, though, and even when the supporting cast isn’t quite as good, these two absolutely sparkle.  

           The Vashta Nerada aren’t quite as memorable to me as the Gas Mask Child or the Angels, but they are solidly scary monsters, and the fact that we see the gnawed skeletons that they produce but never see the monsters themselves definitely adds to the effect. The statues with human faces don’t really do much for me, and even when we see Donna’s face at the end of the episode I’m mostly unimpressed. I’m much more interested in the ghostly remnants of consciousness that linger in those the Vashta Nerada have killed—the notion of digitally-saved consciousness is creepy in itself, but hearing Proper Dave and Miss Evangelista continuing to speak even after their deaths is absolutely harrowing. Between the dangers that lie in the shadows and the terror of listening to the dead continue to speak, there are lots of properly terrifying moments.

           The one major problem that I have with this episode is that I don’t really find the computer universe to be particularly interesting. I like the concept of having “saved” people to a computer, but I spend most of the scenes with the little girl and Dr. Moon just waiting to get back to the library. To be fair, the use of her television is pretty cool, as is the fact that she has a picture of a blond woman and a wolf on her wall, but I find the character herself to be pretty irritating. There are enough things that don’t work for me here that I don’t find this story to be quite as compelling as “Blink” or “The Empty Child,” but the gorgeous setting and the terrific introduction of River are enough to make this one of the stronger episodes of the season. A/A-

Forest of the Dead: Unreal universes clearly fascinate Moffat, who will return to this trope a number of times in later episodes. This two-parter is his first foray into a story like this, which gives it a sense of originality that diminishes as we see the concept repeat in subsequent seasons, but I would argue that this fake universe—which becomes more prevalent here than it was in the previous episode—is nowhere near as interesting as the ones that appear later on in episodes like “Last Christmas” and “Extremis” or Simon Nye’s “Amy’s Choice.” It is genuinely sad to see Donna realize that her children aren’t real, and it’s even sadder that she never finds out that her husband in the fake universe was in fact an actual person, but the whole place just says Fake Sci-Fi Universe so blatantly that I never find any interest in it as an alternate reality. It also feels oddly uncreative; I get that the other reality was initially created for Cal’s benefit, and that might explain the domestic focus, but the thoroughly unadventurous world isn’t very exciting and doesn’t seem completely suitable as a happily-ever-after for someone as energetic as Donna. Miss Evangelista, who experienced an error in translation that increased her IQ but also resulted in physical disfigurement, is a striking presence but even she doesn’t really hold my interest. (It’s also unfortunate that the script isn’t as clear as it could be about the relationship between the two changes that she experienced; I don’t think she really says anything that implies a causal relationship between the two, but a slightly vague sentence structure makes it possible to read this as a claim that her decreased attractiveness made possible her increased intelligence, which would definitely have been worth avoiding.)            

Because I don’t really enjoy the world to which Donna and others have been “saved,” this episode only really works for me when we’re in the library itself. Fortunately, there are a number of good scenes in the library and then one absolutely sublime one, as River sacrifices herself so that the Doctor can live to make all of the memories that she’s already had with him. It’s an absolutely stunning piece of writing, acting, and musical underscoring, and River’s death is so moving that it’s difficult to believe that this is only her second episode. I’m not sure what gets to me the most in this scene; it might be River telling the Doctor “you watch us run,” as she thinks of the time together that’s still to come for him, or it might be the Doctor’s acknowledgment that there’s only one reason why he would ever have told her his name, or it might be some of the best music Murray Gold’s ever composed, but in retrospect, I think what makes me saddest is the fact that one of the last things she hears is the Doctor unknowingly saying her mother’s favorite expression. She’s quick to shut down the idea that time can be rewritten in this case, but if you watch this after seeing later seasons, the words allow the spirit of Amy Pond to make a brief, heartbreaking appearance in her daughter’s final moments.

           River’s connection to the Doctor works marvelously well throughout the episode, and the notion that he’s like seeing a photograph of someone from before you knew them gives us a lovely way into her feelings. The Doctor takes an embarrassingly long time to get the connection between books and trees, but he does do some pretty stellar thinking as he figures out what it means to have “saved” all four thousand people. (He figures this out in the middle of Anita trying to have a meaningful last conversation, which isn’t his kindest moment, but it’s still impressive.) The Vashta Nerada and their creepy shadows continue to be very frightening, but the resolution—in which the Doctor intimidates them into leaving everyone alone by telling them to look him up in the library’s books—is not the most satisfying end to the main plot. The final moments, though, in which he “saves” River to the library computer, make for a much stronger conclusion. River is one of the many characters to only sort-of die, and my lack of interest in the computer universe means that I’m not that excited about the continued existence of her consciousness within it. However, the Doctor’s realization of why he gave her his screwdriver and his rush to “save” her is so compellingly done that I’m very moved by the scene in spite of the minor issues that I have with it.

           As in the first part, I don’t find this episode quite as brilliant as some of Moffat’s other early episodes, like “The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances” and “Blink.” The Vashta Nerada are solid villains, and the library is a gorgeous setting, but this episode is really only sensational to me when River is on screen. Still, even with some pieces that I don’t especially like, this episode contains enough brilliant moments to make it a very strong story overall. A/A-