#shes also failing said con saves

[camilla-obscura]

my dnd character is beefing with a tiefling and in order to prove that his fire resistance isnt special shes actively lighting herself on fire and rolling con saves just to prove a point

[gguk-n]

Chapter 5- Racing for Love

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N spends her time in Netherland with Max while his girlfriend no where to be seen. They spend Christmas and New Year together. Y/N can't get over Max; maybe it's for the best. Max realised he loves her.

{Reader's POV}

I headed back to the hotel after the race to get dressed and meet up with Max. Every one was going to be celebrating Max's win at the club. All the drivers were also joining, making it the perfect opportunity for us to meet. I was so excited. I wore a navy blue body con midi dress, it made me look and feel hot. I had told Max I'd meet him there, yet he insisted on picking me up. I was almost done getting ready when Max knocked on my door. I opened it to a much cleaner Max. I grabbed my purse and headed out with Max. "Is your girlfriend in the car?" I asked walking along with him. "No" he answered and then we walked in silence to the car. On the way there I asked again, "Is she meeting us there?" "No" he replied shortly. "Why?" I asked again. "She went back home" Max said in a tone that meant he didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

At the party, I had a lot of fun. I got to meet everyone who were very kind, welcoming and funny. They were all shocked that Max had a friend for so long that no one knew about, Charles and Lando included. We laughed, we drank, Max was pretty sober, not having touched a drink since we got there. "Why aren't you drinking?" I slurred having gulped down my previous shot of vodka, I'd lost the count of how much I had to drink since I got handed a glass as soon as one finished. "I drove here, we need to drive back to the hotel" he replied. "OHHHHH, LET'S DANCE" I shouted over the loud music. "You should go, I'm good here." Max replied while preventing Lando from toppling over. I sauntered my way to the dance floor, a guy had made my acquaintance as soon as I started dancing and we were having a lot of fun until, Max came dragging me back to where we were sat. "Max, I'm having fun. Lemme go" I whined trying to pull my hand away from his but drunk me wasn't very strong. "Drink some water and then we're leaving." he stated. "What? But we just got here. Look at all those bottle" I pointed at the bottles behind the bartender, "I need to sample those" I cried. "You can sample the alcohol later. We don't want you to get alcohol poisoning." he said shaking his head. "I have a good tolerance. SEE" I said while finally breaking free from him to try to walk in a straight line only to fail miserably and almost fall. I was only saved by Max's crazy fast reflexes, who caught me at the right moment and carried me over his shoulder back to his car, all the while I was screaming. "PUT ME DOWN....MAXIE.....YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY....PLEASE....I THINK I'M GONNA puke" I puked as soon as he put me down next to his car; thankfully having the brain to stop myself from puking all over his expensive car. I brushed the back of my right hand against my lips after puking, "Thank god I didn't puke on your car. haha. I don't think I can afford to clean it" I laughed. He handed me a bottle of water and got me in the car after that. The hang over wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be; maybe because Max got me medicines to help.

I spent the next few days in Zandvoort going to some of the very few places Max was allowed to go and have fun as a kid. We even went go karting. It was a shitty feeling racing against a World Champion since that idiot can't just enjoy the race. He had to make everything a competition. How did he expect me to win when this was the first time I was karting while he did this as a living for many years. We had bet on the fact that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted; in all my confidence I had said yes, I had forgotten that my opponent was Max Verstappen. Yet, when he won after one pout, Max forgot he's the winner and let me get what I wanted since it was technically cheating since this wasn't his first time and it was mine. So, that's how we ended up watching Barbie at the end of the day. As I wiped away tears, I saw that Max was also wiping away tears. I'm never gonna let him hear the end of this.

The next few days were a blur, I tried to make the best of the situation since I wasn't sure when I would get to meet Max again. I packed up my stuff, a question still lingered on my mind; where the fuck was his girlfriend?. So, I decided to have this conversation in the car where he wouldn't be able to escape me like he did the last few days. Max carried my stuff to his car and loaded it in the car. I sat down on the passenger seat waiting for Max to come. We drove off towards the airport when I said, "Maxie, I haven't seen your girlfriend since the race. I was really looking forward to getting to know her" "Oh, umm" he sighed, "Actually, we broke up" he said while looking straight ahead. "What? Why? Is it because you hugged me first at the race. Fuck, should I apologise?" I rambled. "Schat, nonsense. We hadn't been getting along for a while. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her for a while, it just happened when you were there. It's not your fault" he clarified. My shoulders sank while I waited to get to the airport. I bid Max a good bye and he promised to come visit or have me visit during the off season. I promised to meet him soon. With a heavy heart, Max disappeared in the crowd as I walked into the airport.

We went back to our previous routine of talking on video calls. I ended being spoiled a lot more now that he knew where I lived because I would come home to a new package I didn't remember ordering at my front door when I returned from work. If I asked him why, and he'd just shrug it off and say that it was something that reminded him of me when he was in that country for the race. After a few packages, it was overwhelming me. I felt like I was using my rich friend for financial gain. We were on call after I had opened up a package I got from Brazil. Y/N- Max, you can't keep sending me so much stuff. There was a box full of trinkets and snacks from Brazil. Max- It was nothing, did you like it? Y/N- No Max- oh ok, what do you want? I can get that for you? Y/N- Maaaaxxxxx, that's not what I meant. You have to stop sending me stuff now. It's getting over whelming. Max- But...I just wanted to bring a little something back from every race. Y/N- Yes, do that for yourself. Not me Max- I've always wanted to take you along to races and bring you stuff back from races since I've known you. Now that I can, let me make up for all the lost time. Y/N- I get the sentiment Max, I do, but no. It's making me feel crappy since I'm not able to get you anything. I enjoy our friendship, I do not want to feel like I'm using you. Max- You're not using me. I'm using myself, honestly. Y/N- I don't want to come home to anymore packages any more. If you really want to get me something, think about it for a couple time. One or two items that you would like to get for me, is perfectly fine. Max- Ok...I really wanted to get you things though. Y/N- You can tell me about your weekend. I'll listen but this is overbearing to me. Finally he got what I meant.

We ended up making a plan for the off season. Max had won the season with the amount of points he had scored. It was a given that he was gonna be the World Drivers Champion for 2023. So, I wanted to celebrate it with him. He offered to fly me out to Abu Dhabi for the race which would not be possible since I had work. That's why we planned to spend the Christmas break together. I did suggest leaving a few days before Christmas so he can spend it with his family but he was vehemently against it. I had started Christmas shopping in November, could've done it earlier. I got Max an ugly Christmas sweater with the grinch and a matching one for myself. It would be like a friendship bracelet. We would be spending the holiday in Monaco because of the privacy and I wanted to get away from here for a few days at least. I kind of wanted to clear my feeling for Max during this trip too. Being on the receiving end of Max's affection with gifts or the phone calls wasn't easy when you were in love with him. He made it so difficult to try and get over him when he would sweet talk his way back into my heart whenever I thought I didn't like him in that way.

I had sent my collection to the author I was editing for currently since she wanted to read it ever since I mentioned that I wrote. I sent her the email a couple days after going over the collection one last time. It was exciting and nerve wrecking. Maybe getting the opinion of a fellow author would help me make it better and improve it, if need be.

The last race of the season was upon us. Max was crowned the World Driver's Champion for the third time. I texted him as soon as the race ended and congratulated him. I couldn't believe that I got to witness a Max win. The day couldn't get any better when I got a call from the author I was editing for who said that she loved the collection of poems I sent her and she wanted to help me get it published under the publication she worked for. She had been working for that publication for so long and was the biggest earner that they couldn't deny her request. In her defence, she said that the poems were so good that any one stupid would only reject it. I was asked to edit it and the author was an angel to help me out. Her reasoning was that this was a mutually beneficial relationship since she hadn't enjoyed working with someone as much as she enjoyed working with me.

Winter break couldn't come any sooner. I had packed my bags; no work, done with my editing side gig. I couldn't wait to hang out with Max. The flight there felt so long, maybe it was the excitement of wanting to see him. Max was waiting for me at the airport when I got there. A big smile on his face as I walked towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him. He twirled me around a little before putting me down. We walked back to the car with my bag in Max's hand. The ride there was filled with a lot of talking on Max's part. Hearing him go on about what he loved was the warmest feeling. "The cats are so excited to see you" he said. "So, you aren't?" I joked. "What no" he was flustered. "I'm excited to." he mumbled a tint of red visible on his cheeks. My heart leapt in my chest as I watched him blush. What if I wasn't delusional? What if he liked me? I thought.

At his home, the cats were a little cautious of the stranger that had entered their space but recognised me quickly by my voice and a few hours later I was sat with both of them sat on either side of me; petting the two with both of my hands. Max snapped a picture of us sat on the couch. "Can't believe this is the life you live" I said petting his cats, a soft purring exuding from both. "Having cats is the best thing ever" I almost screamed from excitement. Max laughed. "I might kidnap them" I suggested. Max shook his head, "You will do no such thing"

The next few days leading up to Christmas were a a blur, we spent time around the city, walking around and site seeing. Max was a great tour guide since he stored the most random information in his head. He gave me a quick history lesson on a lot of the places we went to. We walked along the track in Monaco since I wanted to. We went hiking; I was very out of shape is the conclusion I've come too. We spent the day leading up to Christmas cooking at home and decorating the place. This was the first time since I moved out from my parents place did I end up celebrating Christmas.

We ended up sleeping on the couch as we watched Christmas movies after tiring our self out with the decoration. I woke up in Max's arms, a warm fuzzy feeling erupted in my stomach as I watched soft snores emit from Max's lips. I carefully pried myself out of Max's grasp. When I returned, I found a disheveled Max sat on the couch. "where did you go?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. "I had to pee" I said, now sitting down on the couch beside him. "Should we open presents?" I asked. "Lemme freshen up" Max mumbled while getting up. He came back, much more awake and with 2 cups of coffee for us. We drank in silence until Max brought his present for me from under the tree and handed it to me. There were a few actually; a book on Formula One with Max's face on it, a pendent with a sapphire stone and a stupid coffee cup saying 'best friends forever'. I smiled as I held the cup against my lips acting like I was sipping coffee. "Thank you Maxie" I said. He just smile. "Now, it's your turn." I said. He grabbed the other presents; which included an ugly sweater, a Sid from Ice Age plushy and a perfume from Max's favourite brand. "These are a lot of things" he said. "Yeah, I wanted to spoil you" I smiled. "I feel spoilt" he smiled back. "I got us matching ugly sweater" I said while going to grab mine. We ended up putting our sweaters on. "I didn't tell you but I got signed by a publication" I said while Max inspected his sweater. He looked up with shock and happiness in his eyes. He quickly hugged me, "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it" he said while hugging me. I hugged back, "Thank you for believing in me" I said with tears in my eyes.

Christmas was a weird day, we had Turkish kabab because Max wanted to. I wasn't one to say no to delicious food. The days between Christmas and New Year were a bit of a blur honestly. On new year's eve, we went out with a couple of his friends. I had decided not to drink my weight in alcohol. As we all counted down the time to new year, the excitement palpable. When the clock struck 12, I was pulled towards the guy next to me who had made acquaintance much to Max's dismay. He pressed his lips against my lips, easing me into a kiss. When I pulled away to look at Max, who's eyes flashed hurt. I hugged Max wishing him a happy new year. We left a little while later. Max was uncharacteristically quite as we drove home.

We never spoke about the silent treatment Max gave me on the way back from the club. I left Monaco a few days after. Our friendship returning to it's long distance status. With Max having to train for the next season and me having to prepare for school and my book.

The next few months were a blur with both of us quite busy. Max kept is his streak of winning the races and watching him win was a proud feeling. He would call me at the end of the day to discuss what happened and I enjoyed listening to him even though I didn't know shit about cars.

I spent the entirety of my spring break and summer break with Max, travelling to his races; which he insisted I joined. The feelings I had for him only grew. I tried to keep myself in check but all the small things he would do made it impossible. He was caring and sweet and kind, and most of all my first love that I had a hard time moving on from.

His summer break was spent lounging around my house. He accompanied me to the launch of my book; going as far as to promote it on his socials. People had started to speculate that there was something going on in between us. Max didn't really answer those questions or even try to kill the rumours. He got me a big bouquet of my favourite flowers when he came to the book launch. We went out for dinner to celebrate; ending up on all the tabloids the next day. I apologised to Max about the mess but he was unbothered, a little smile played on his face after he read the articles but nothing more.

After the summer break, Max was flying out to Netherland, for his home race. I couldn't join him due to there being a few tests I needed to grade but promised to be there for the race. I flew in the morning of the race, Max showing up at the airport to pick me up. He wouldn't let me be on my own, if he was there. We caught up on the stuff that happened in the 2 days we didn't speak. It felt like routine talking to Max. If we didn't, it felt like my day had gone my horribly and everything that could go wrong would go wrong. There was comfort in Max's voice and his arms whenever he hugged me.

I accompanied Max to the paddock, the cheers loud. Last year, was the first time I was here, this year it felt so familiar even though it was only my second time. Max wasn't starting pole but he could still finish first since he was in the front row. The race started off with Max over taking Lando at turn 1. The chance of Max wining his home race for the fourth time seemed more likely. But as the race went on, Max lost his P1 to Lando who kept the distance between him and Max a constant. Making Max finish P2, the way he started. He got out of the car to find me and his team waiting for him. I mouthed a congratulations as he walked towards me. He had tears in his eyes, "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner." he said wiping his tears. My heart skipped a beat; "You can still ask me out" I suggested. "But I'm scared of what you'll say" he muttered. "My answer would be the same, whether you were P1 or P2" I said. "And what's that?" he asked expectantly. "I would love to go out with you, Maxie" I said with a smile and tears in my eyes. Max almost jumped when he heard me, "Go on and finish up. We have a lot to talk about" I said pushing him towards the media pen.

I was waiting in his driver's room just like last year. But this time it was different, there were butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. I found myself pacing around the room, imagining what we would say. I was pulled out of my thought by Max now standing at the door. "Hi" he greeted shyly. "Hey" I replied, sitting on the sofa followed by Max. We sat facing each other, he took my hands in his, "Lifde, I can't believe this" he began. "me neither" I chimed in. "I've liked you for so long, I don't remember a time I didn't like you since I've known you" I continued. Max couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you felt the same" I said. "I didn't think you felt the same either." He added. "Y/N I really wanted to win this race and ask you out as a race winner." He sulked. "You're already a race winner and a three time champion at that. I couldn't ask for more. Plus I couldn't care less; to me you'll always be a winner" I said. He took my face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. I nodded. His lips inched closer to mine before they touched, our eyes fluttered close, his lips dry and chapped against my soft shiny glossed lips. Our lips moved in synchrony, tilting our head as we deepened the kiss. His hand trailing down from my cheek to my waist to pull me closer, I was now sat on his lap. I pulled away breathless, our foreheads touching, breaths intermingling, eyes locked; "I love you Y/N" he stated. "I have for a while. I didn't know how to say it. I'm glad not winning pushed me over the edge" "I love you too, Maxie. Can't wait to celebrate your fourth championship" I said. "You think?" he asked. "I know" I said, cupping his cheeks to kiss him again. His hands on my waist pulled me closer, as if it was even possible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in between kisses. "Yes" I breathed out as we continued to kiss.

When god sends blessings, it becomes hard to count. I got the man of my dreams and the stepping stone to my career goals.

[purple-babygirl]

One With Nature

Pairing: (dom)!Fae Lord!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader Word count: 1,850 Warnings: Supernatural elements, 18+ Content: mention of kidnapping, BDSM elements, being tied up, non-con/animal-assisted scene, nipple play, use of a pet name, use of sir and master, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum play A/N: this is what happens when I wake up way too early on a Saturday. I'm sorry that my mind is messed up. Ily tho:"💜💜 ~

Felt horny, might delete later

But dom!fae lord!Bucky who is a crazy bastard. He’d kidnapped sweet, shy reader a while ago using a fae trap. He fucked her day and night into submission until she could barely remember anything of her previous life before him and his cock.

Soon, she has accepted that there was no way out for her. That fae lord controlled her and everything around her.

One day as he let her naked body lie on the soft grass, basking in the sunlight and the afterglow of 3 orgasms, she smiled dazedly and said “oh how nice it is to be part of nature.”

Any other fae lord would have been thrilled that she has accepted her new reality, that she was finally enjoying her place here, but not Bucky.

Oh, no, no, Bucky had much dirtier thoughts in mind, thoughts that made him harder than he’s ever been before.

Which brought her to the present.

He has her naked, her back against the largest tree in his forest as tendrils wrap tightly around her wrists and ankles, keeping her in place and stretching her wide open for him.

She looks at him with confused need in her eyes as the cool breeze hits her pussy and hardens her nipples.

If he wanted her, why didn’t he just take her privately like he usually does? Why in the middle of the forest where birds were flying around and squirrels were climbing up trees?

She knew they were just animals but she couldn’t help but feel dirty being exposed to their eyes, even if their gazes weren’t interested.

“You wanted to become part of nature, bunny.” Bucky answers her unspoken question with a smirk, “didn’t you?”

When she fails to answer, shocked and embarrassingly wet at how exposed she was, he slaps the inside of her soft thigh.

“I asked you a question, bunbun.” Bucky’s glare is hard despite the use of her petname.

“Yes, sir.” She nods, swallowing her nerves.

She never knew what to expect with this lunatic, but her body was excited regardless.

“Good, today I’m gonna teach you yet another lesson, bunny. It’s called ‘be careful what you wish for’.” His smirk widens as she swallows again.

Bucky waves his fingers in the air and three birds instantly show up in the air by his head, floating, awaiting their next orders.

Her heart sinks even though she doesn’t know what he intends to do with the birds, but she knew it was going to be something crazy, something she’s never experienced before.

Bucky walks closer, raising his hands in the air and the tendrils lift her body up higher against the tree.

She gasps, whining when her thighs are spread further apart.

Bucky’s hands cup her breasts, rubbing her nipples between his fingers.

Her eyes close as another needy gasp leaves her.

“What do you say when your master is teaching you a lesson, bunny?”

“Thank y-you.. thank you, sir.” She pants as Bucky’s hand slides to her core.

“Atta girl,” he praises, nuzzling her neck, feeling her pulse under his lips. “Already so wet for me, bunny. Is it that I have you helplessly open for me that makes your pussy drool?” he teases meanly, chuckling when she whines.

Bucky watches her face closely as he rubs her clit slowly, her mouth open as low moans escape her.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you bunny?” He slaps her pussy and she jumps up the tiniest bit, the tendrils holding her in place.

“As much as I like seeing you fall apart for me, I also enjoy watching you beg for it.” Bucky steps away from her.

“Please—”

He clicks his tongue, interrupting her begging with a smirk, “save your voice, bunny, you’re gonna need it.”

Bucky waves his hands again and the birds move towards her as if under mind control. Two birds float by her boobs and one between her legs.

Her heart races as she tries to close her legs, panicking at what Bucky could possibly have brought the birds for, “sir?”

Bucky laughs, his eyes darkening with messed up desire, “don’t worry, bunny. Nature wants to be close to you too.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the birds move closer to where she’s most sensitive.

She closes her eyes in anticipation and bites her lip, but then her whole body tenses up because she feels it.

3 blunt beaks are nudging her nipples and clit, repeatedly and in unison.

“Oh god!” Her surprised moan echoes through the forest, making Bucky chuckle.

She doesn’t know what to feel, her mind too clouded. She feels violated by those birds. Hell, she feels like she’s violating those birds.

She squirms but their beaks follow her sensitive nubs like a beacon. They keep pecking at her like a woodpecker would a tree, except it is just blunt beaks vibrating and nudging her most sensitive areas.

She’s trying not to enjoy it, and Bucky doesn’t like that very much.

He walks closer, his frown turning into a smirk as his hands delve between her legs. He holds her gaze as his thumb ever so gently pulls up the hood of her clit, leaving the aching button exposed to the bird’s beak.

A scream rips through her chest at the first peck, but then more nudges keep coming and she starts begging like a madwoman, her words turning into gibberish as her stomach clenches.

If someone had told her before that she would be nearing orgasm because a bird was pecking at her clit, she would have definitely called them insane, sick even.

And that’s exactly what fae!,Bucky was.

As he kept her torment going, his other hand palmed his unbelievably hard cock, pleasuring himself to her screams and pleas. Yet soon enough, his own touch wasn’t what he wanted.

Bucky lets her clit go and with a flick of his fingers, the birds retreat and fly away.

Her body sags slightly and her screams finally quiet down. She doesn’t realize she’s been crying until Bucky’s thumb touches her cheeks.

“What is it, bunbun? Couldn’t handle nature?” He teases with a smirk, his strong hands lifting her thighs to wrap around his waist.

“Please,” she whispers weakly and Bucky knows exactly what she’s begging for.

Holding his hard cock in hand, he swipes the leaking tip up and down her pussy, “cry about it all you want, bunny, but your body doesn’t lie.”

She shivers, her eyes closing as his cock teases her cunt.

“My pussy doesn’t lie,” Bucky groans as he pushes in.

She screams a moan as Bucky bottoms out in one thrust, his girth stretching her deliciously.

Bucky stays still and buries his nose in her neck. He presses the softest kisses to her skin as if he doesn’t have her impaled on his cock in the middle of the forest.

His fingers soon find her nipples and start plucking teasingly.

She throws her head back and before any of them can realize it, she’s cumming on his unmoving cock.

Bucky almost loses his balance as she quivers and clenches around him, his hand leaning on the tree behind her, “fuck, bunny.”

He groans, his blunt nails meanly keeping the torture going on her sensitive nipples until he’s milked her orgasm out of her.

She sags against him yet again, panting as tremors of pleasure ripple through her body.

Bucky holds her close, pressing his smirking lips to her shoulder.

She just had an orgasm merely from having her nipples stimulated. He has never made her do that before but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last time.

“Oh sweet bunny,” Bucky kisses up the side of her neck, “my sensitive, responsive, helpless bunny.”

He pulls his face away from the crook of her neck and looks at her, “open your eyes, bunbun.”

She obeys, and as soon as her glossy gaze meets his, Bucky grinds his cock inside of her.

The moan she lets out is music to his ears and the way her back arches makes him lose control.

He pulls his cock out before quickly sheathing himself whole inside of her again. He gives her his cock again and again until she’s a babbling mess once more.

Bucky likes her like this, screaming in pleasure she was made to take as he pushes her body to its limits, turning into a possessed soul on his cock.

His fingers find her puffy clit and she gasps, trying to squirm as she begged him not to.

Bucky only smirks before his fingers start thrumming her abused pearl, his cock driving deep inside of her, nudging her spongy spot repeatedly.

Her mouth opens and her eyes roll back as she gushes all over Bucky’s cock, her release dripping down onto the crunchy autumn leaves beneath their feet.

“Look at you squirting for me in the middle of the forest, bunny. Shameless.” Bucky keeps fucking her through it until her body can’t shake anymore and her forehead fall to his shoulder.

“Good bunny, so good for me,” Bucky growls in her ear as he fucks her harder, “gonna fill you up so good, you’d feel me in that sweet pussy for days.”

Her tired body is still thrumming with pleasure when she feels the first spurt of Bucky’s hot cum filling her up and she whines.

“Take it, bunbun. Take your master’s cum,” Bucky groans as he keeps filling her up.

When he finally pulls his cock out of her, he groans at the sight of her puffy, well-fucked pussy dripping of his cum.

He collects the leaking cum and pushes it back into her pussy, making her whine.

Bucky chuckles, “come on now, bunny, can’t waste a drop.”

He pushes his fingers deeper and starts fingering his cum into her, not stopping until she was screaming the last of her voice and cumming for him again.

She’s too out of it when the tendrils let her limbs go, falling into Bucky’s arms.

He carries her with a smile, kissing her temple, “you were such a good girl for me today, bunny.”

Bucky lets her close her eyes and drift off. He takes her home and cleans her up, dressing her into a soft, silky nightgown, and of course, no underwear.

When she finally opens her eyes, she’s met with his handsome smile and cannot help but give a shy one of her own.

“How are you feeling, little bunny? Are you okay?” He asks as his large hand caresses down her back as he kisses her forehead.

“Yes, sir.” Her voice is hoarse from screaming and it makes Bucky smile wider.

“You did so good for me today, bunbun. I’m proud of you.” Bucky kisses her lips softly.

She’s too lost in the kiss to notice his hand sneaking under her nightgown to her bare butt.

She gasps against his lips when his index massages up and down her tightest hole.

“But you better have learned to be careful what you wish for or I’ll have my squirrels plugging this ass with acorns next.”

I'm sorry I-

~

Tag list: @harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love @tiedyedghoulette @saint-marvel @helenaellie @onceithough @raynelbabe @a-very-fictional-girl @justabeluga @lindababe69

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 8)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 📍 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smutty💦

Part 8 - Trust

Detective Brady is sharper than you initially thought, though Alastor is (seemingly) unfazed by the threat. While you both explore the idea of ‘home’ a familiar face shows up at your apartment.

「Warnings/Tags: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, Detective Brady exists a lot and maybe too much, fingering lol, phone calls, almost our first fight, stress, Disney mom rule, Ruth is pretty alright for now, Brenda」

forgot to tag you in the deleted scene for TRDFAHS

M👻D☠️N👽I😈

Your mother always said ‘Anger is your sword and shield’. So you postured yourself as someone mad. One hip out, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

“Sir I don’t appreciate a man in a lady’s space.”

Brady bit his tongue, wanting to say something sharp.

 I don’t see any ladies here.

 He met the glares of the women behind you. “Ah, well-,”

“Do you really expect her to leave in her robe?”

“Aren’t you the man whose been stalking her?”

“Autumn I’ll go with you.”

“You want her to get into a strange man’s car?”

He felt like a fox about to be pecked to death by the hens.

“Now-! Alright I’m seeing I maybe,” he set your shoes down and slid past you and between the other performers, “got a little eager to speak to you.”

“Does Janet know you like to hang around burlesquers?” Someone said as his back was turned.

Like having ice water poured over his head, his shoulders tensed as did his tone. “I’ll be right out the door.”

You tried to hide the tremble in your hands, but failed. Ruth slid beside you, “What do you need?”

A phone. But the cord wouldn’t reach that far. You wanted to tell Alastor. You needed him to know that detective had you cornered and knew of his existence.

“Could you stay with me? I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll feel safer if I’m not talking to him alone. In case he tries to drag me out. He seems a little off his rocker.” You were genuinely scared he would grab you by the arm and pull you out of the theater if he didn’t think anyone would see. 

She patted your back, the others filing in to continue with their work of getting dressed and undressed. You took your time, trying to plan what you would say.

Brady felt an embarrassed blush take hold as the women moved past him with scowls and tsks. He could feel a little bit of his sanity slip back now that you were in front of him. 

“I have some questions about Tommy. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks. We can head down now.”

Oddly, your mother also taught you, ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’ 

She didn’t always make a lot of sense, contradicting herself daily. 

Time to use the tried and true tactic, “I am sorry, detective. I had some trouble recently and have been keeping to myself… going home as soon as possible. Just trying to keep my nose clean. So to speak.”

Brady watched you look up at him with a face his daughter often gave him when she was in trouble. But you weren’t a child and you surely weren’t his daughter. “That’s no excuse to dodge me.”

Your turn to bite your tongue, “Of course, sir.”

Ruth was… confused. She’d never seen you so obedient. You had more venom in your voice after taking a hit from Tommy knowing a third could be close behind. Why were you being so small?

“Are you ready to go?” He fished in his pocket for his car door keys. 

Ruth felt the need to interject, “She’s not going anywhere.”

Perfect.

You nodded, “I won’t be out at night, sir. You know better than most about the dangers.” Your dangers. Your darling Alastor.

“No, no no,” an unhinged chuckle from the fraying detective, “You’re not slipping away again. I have my car, I’ll take you there and bring you home.”

Ruth looked to you, then back to the detective, “Is she under arrest?”

Brady rolled his eyes, “Of course not.”

“Then? What gives you the right?”

Technically, nothing. He didn’t need to talk to you. His lead still stood. But maybe you’d slip and say something to expedite his search for the radio man. Maybe this would only end with Tommy. But he felt something tickling the back of his skull. An urge to not stop pushing.

“I’ll meet you at the station tomorrow morning. Is it the address on the card you gave me?” Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn’t. You just needed him gone so you could call Alastor. 

He was shaking his notebook, key looped onto his finger. A nervous habit. “You still have my card?”

A smile, “Of course. In case any news came up. I’d have called but I didn’t realize you were so worked up.”

He scoffed. He wasn’t worked up. He was just annoyed. Maybe a little rougher in demeanor than usual but whose fault was that?

“If you don’t turn up tomorrow-,”

Ruth, taller than most women and some men and wide at the shoulders, leaned in.

Brady’s eyeline adjusted from yours to Ruth’s. Skye Scraper wasn’t just a pun, it was a cruel nickname she took ownership of. “Finish that sentence.”

The conversation ended there, Brady leaving with a huff.

You’d memorized the number the night Alastor gave it to you, too scared to write it down. He warned you though he wouldn’t be the one to answer.

“Is Alastor still there?” You tried to smile so you sounded less panicked. Ruth mouthed his name and pretended to swoon as you held the phone close to your ear. 

“Uhh depends, who is this?” Brenda answered, a voice you’d never heard but a woman Alastor had primed you for. 

“….”, but why hadn’t you thought through this part, what name was safe? Which was recognizable? You didn’t like the idea of this woman knowing your name. “Tell him it’s Autumn.”

“….” 

You laughed at Ruth, waiting still for a reply from Brenda, “Hello?”

“Is this a crank? Autumn like the season? I-,” a commotion, “Hey there! No. I don’t know. Well it’s past hours anywa-.”

Alastor was lying across Brenda’s desk to reach the phone, having wrestled it from the woman’s grip, “I’m here. What’s wrong? I was about to leave.”

“I’ll walk home tonight.” It hurt, physically hurt, to say it.

Alastor tried to keep his face neutral, “Oh.” Nervous fingers twirling the cord, “One second.” 

Harsh whispers, some clicks, and he was back, “I’m in my office. What happened?”

“Yeah Ruth is with me. It’s okay. I’ll call you like normal tomorrow?” 

“Should I swing by your apartment?” He considered doing it regardless of your answer.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ll be heading to the police station early tomorrow so I’ll be asleep as soon as I’m flat.” Putting your hand over the receiver, you spoke to Ruth, “Thank you, we got it figured out.”

His heart sank to his stomach, “Did he finally manage to catch you?”

“Yeah. Or—-,” your voice cracked a little, the fear rolling in as soon as Ruth walked away, “Yeah.”

“I’m coming over to the theater.”

Cupping the phone you curved your shoulders in and turned away from the staff milling about, “Don’t, that’s worse.” Tears stung your eyes. You felt like you’d failed him. You had somehow, hadn’t you? The loose thread Brady could grab ahold of was you.

“If you can’t come to the alley I’ll leave after a couple minutes. But I’ll be there in twenty, same time as our normal pick up.”

“Alastor, that’s reckless.”

“Please, dear, I don’t want our first fight to be over my work line.” A calming breath, “You don’t have to meet me, but I’ll be there. Just five minutes, then I’ll be off.”

You decided the safest thing to do was to wait in the alley. If you saw any signs of Brady or anyone coming out, you’d go back inside and just miss the meeting. But the idea of Alastor being just beyond the wall, waiting all alone, was too much.

But how much harder would it be if the wall was of the prison? Or worse, dense earth under your feet? That’s what Brady was wanting. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been chewing your nails until his car turned down the alley from the back and you tore off much of the length of your thumbnail.

Your arms were thrown around him before he was fully out of the car, “Alastor, he knows I have a guy. He wanted me to go down right now but I managed to push it to tomorrow.” Alastor tried to decipher the words as you spoke them into his vest, “What do I do?”

Normally you’d have your own plans in mind but this was too big, this was capable of hurting him more than anyone else. 

He smelled like ink and smoke, a scent you inhaled as you tried to calm your breath.

A large hand patted your head, “Okay. You go tomorrow. It’ll be fine. Don’t stress.” Pulling you off he placed chaste kisses across your face. “Think about what you want to say to him and we can talk it out in the morning. Everything is fine.”

The reality of you standing in a dirty alley crying into the arms of a murderer set in. Then the little detail you were both killers creeped over your chest and took hold of your throat.

He was impressed at the strength of your hands as you gripped at his clothes. Leaning against the car, he offered you his most charming smile.

“Deep breaths, dear. Do I look scared?”

He didn’t. He looked like a magazine ad for French cologne or razor blades that left the softest skin. 

“No.” You shook your head.

“No.” He nodded. “It’ll be okay. If you don’t go, he will hound you worse. If you do go, maybe he’ll realize he’s got a handful of nothing.”

His smile blinded you. Bright grin as he rested against his car, arms open. 

“Do you really think so? A handful of nothing?”

“Did he say my name?”

“No.”

“Did he–” he elongated the word, lips pursed as he searched the sky for his next words, “have Tommy’s body?”

You laughed, morbid but preposterous, “I didn’t pat him down. Coulda.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, “We’ll have to just assume he didn’t.” A moment of tension. The act of joking barely traversing the space between your bodies let alone reaching the stress under your skin. His hands came to your shoulders; firm, secure. “Did you want to have that fight now? About me coming over here.”

You rolled your eyes, obviously not. “Ala-,” you started and stopped.

“I’ll admit I’m being reckless but I think we can both agree my way is more fun.” Smile sliding into a smirk, he cocked his head and lowered it to get back into your line of sight. When you stuck your tongue out he took a deep breath in, relief. “Are you sure I can’t take you home?”

To which home, you wondered. He used the word so casually and interchangeably…

Face close to yours. Eyes solely on you. Perhaps the stage wasn’t as necessary as you’d once thought. Lips on lips, the feeling of his smile spreading as he returned the kiss. A second of panic as you realized you couldn’t see or hear or sense what else was happening anymore in the alley. Brady could have had you in handcuffs and you wouldn’t be the wiser. Not as long as Alastor’s mouth was moving over yours.

“I’ll call in the morning.” He said into your exhale.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet. Not ready to return to earth. A pout from you. A chuckle from him. “I’ll be waiting,” You finally said. 

While you did your waiting, shuffling around the theater and later tossing around in bed, Alastor fell into a different kind of purgatory.

One he hadn’t realized he’d made for himself until you weren’t there. 

The house was quiet, almost eerie. Even with music on he found himself nearly uncomfortable. He shifted several times in his chair while reading, not finding any way to settle in. 

His bed was lopsided. Suddenly one side was too light. Multiple times his hand slid under the sheets in search of you out of habit. 

What a terrible feeling; to want someone. To know you could have them but they just… weren’t there.

It didn't make any sense. He knew he’d see you soon, in less than a day's time even. He typically enjoyed his home and its silence. Being alone was predictable and therefore comforting. Well, it had been. Before you. 

The feeling in his chest, akin to a magnet tugging through his sternum toward a distant partner, didn’t abate.

Only when he heard your voice again over the phone did he find a sliver of peace.

“I’ve decided I’ll deny I have a guy. And, I’ll never tell him about you. It’s safer if he never connects us.”

Alastor was listening, honestly, but he wasn’t really processing. His mind was worried about something else. The detective genuinely didn’t bother him but he had to agree, “I suppose that’s best. As long as we can manage it, to not let him know we’re together.”

Together.

You were together with him. An item. How spectacular you must be to be a part of anything with him.

But for how long? With a certain detective breathing down your neck…, “I’m scared. Actually.”

You could hear the smile in Alastor’s breath, it was odd but eased you. 

“He will never have enough to convict us. He’ll drive himself crazy trying. Trust me.” He soothed. 

Did you have any choice? “Okay. You’re right. I trust you.” Unequivocally so. 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry to change the subject…”

“Please.”

“I want you to come over again tonight. What do you think?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course, don’t even need to ask. I’ll always say yes.” All you needed to do was get through Brady and you’d be home.

But for Alastor, well, he wasn’t done asking the question. A moment of panic from a place unrecognized in his brain, fear of losing himself entirely. But what good was a safe harbor if he never ventured out to sea? That’s just a restraint then, isn’t it? 

Maybe you held a place for him even richer in its comforts than his solitude.

So he let himself drift away from familiar shores, no sails and no compass, “I think it’d be smart to bring over a couple sets of clothes. I can keep them washed and always here for you. Would that be alright?” He had wanted to suggest it while together, but Brady was ruining more than his sleep.

Oh.

The same silence from when he first extended the invitation, the deja vu not lost on you. You struggled to decipher the second meaning you were sure was there. Maybe he didn't know what he had asked. 

“I know it’s boring out in the boonies but, you’re welcome to just stay over while I go to work. I can come back and get you for rehearsals… I’ll enjoy the clubs or come back and make something for a late dinner for us, and bring you home when you’re done.”

He said it. He hadn’t really meant to, so he felt the need to clarify, but you also needed him to clarify just as quickly, “I -,”

“Did you me-?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No I interrupted you-,”

“Not at all pl-,”

“Alastor for the love of God please don’t make me keep talking right now.” You lightly knocked your head with the phone a few times. Your heart was gasping for an ounce of understanding.

He chuckled, glad you were still very much yourself, “I meant, take you home as in, away from work. So, here. Or, there, if you’d prefer.” His face scrunched up, this wasn’t a conversation he had any practice in, “Anywhere really. I’ll drive you anywhere.”

“Alabama?”

He looked at the phone as if you were in it. Alabama? 

“Like— the first time you asked me over.” You added quickly. A terrible joke, a bad callback that made it painfully obvious you committed everything he said to memory.

Alastor rested his cheek on the dining table, laughing into the wood before bringing the receiver back. You always offered him an out of uncomfortable situations, “Well the offer still stands. I'd be willing to even venture at least halfway across Texas.” 

“The best half of Texas is on our side so that’s a generous offer. But, given our work schedules, I think your house would be much better. Time wise.” 

He let his eyes close as he felt the coldness of the wood, “Is that a yes then? To bringing over a couple of items… for ease.” Was it a mistake? Would he regret it? 

You were worth regrets. He had decided. He wanted you to say yes.

The weight of what he was asking wasn’t lost on you an ounce. You could see your window from the phone booth. You took great pride in your little apartment. It was your space and no one else’s. As a child you struggled to have your own anything, so you valued your home. 

But could you call any place so far from Alastor a home?

It’s just a few items. You weren’t giving up your lease. It’s a baby step. One you could easily walk back if you needed to later. It’s not like you hadn’t spent every night possible already since that first offer.

“Yes.” 

It was a plan that took your mind off cops. Have your interrogation, go home, then go home for a relaxing evening of jazz and drink.

The levity ended though the second you hung up the receiver. An obstacle between you and him still stood. You pulled out your bag but couldn’t find the will to pack it. Your hands were too busy as you chewed on your thumbnail again.

Brady noticed the uneven length when you sat down and set your hands on the table.

“Surprised you showed.” He opened his notebook and readied his pencil. “First things first, what is your legal name?”

A chill. You’d gotten your warning the night before to prepare something to say but ignored it. Your mind was flipping through words and images. Piercing all of it were the white reflective eyes of the deer along the road. You decided to lean into what you knew. 

“Autumn.”

“Really? Never heard the name Autumn before.”

“Me either. Made for an easy stage name.”

“I’ll need to see your birth records, just to be sure.”

You sucked your teeth. “Ah, unfortunately…all that stuff was left behind with my mom when I moved.”

“And where can I find her?

“Corner of North Villere street and Piety.”

“And your address?”

You paused. His eyes rose and met yours. The radiant aqua from the cafe morning was now an icy color. “I don’t give my address out. You know where I work.”

“But you’re fine giving me your mother’s address? That’s cold.”

“Not as cold as she is, I’m sure of that.”

“Fine, I’ll find it in the census records.” He flipped the page, “Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged.” He tapped his notepad on the table like it was the starting bell of a fight.

You wished Alastor was with you, but also wished he would never enter that station. “Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he,” you remembered the man and his ugly tie, “introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently.”

“And who was that?”

You searched your memory, “S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening.”

Brady nodded, “And then he knocked you around?”

You winced without meaning too, “Yeah. Got me good.”

Brady waited for you to continue talking, but you had learned this game. People know silence is uncomfortable and will use that against you. So you let the silence stay. Let the awkward tension build. You had limited time, he knew that.

He caved first. “And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that.”

Lying was second nature to you. You had killed for Alastor. You could do this. Deep breaths, slink into yourself. You imagined Alastor choked on the park grounds, wet and unmoving. Imagined him cold to the touch.

“Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection.” Tears welled. Bloody hands and a large rock. “But as soon as he got his money he left.” 

Brady was writing, “And the man? What was his name.”

“Something foreign. Kerr-something. Or Car?”

He looked up slightly, “You’re pretty terrible at names.”

You wiped away your tears, “I had more pressing concerns at the time than trying to remember that man’s name. I was hoping I’d never need to know it.”

Brady hummed, “Yeah. And what did your beau think of this?”

Did you hide it? The flash of panic that rolled under the flesh of your face, “If I had a beau Tommy wouldn’t have made me do that. He said that himself.”

“Too bad he’s not here to confirm.”

“If he was we wouldn’t be having this conversation, detective.”

“Touché. Clever little lady aren’t you?”

Fuck.

You shifted slightly in your seat, looking downward in an attempt at being bashful. “That’s kind to say.”

“So why did,” he flipped through his book, “Beth say you stopped singin’ on Sundays cuz of your radio boyfriend?”

“Ah,” a weak laugh to hide the way your breath got sucked in with panic. The words ‘radio boyfriend’ punched the air from your lungs. “You must mean the rake. Took me for a ride at a club corner and sent me off in a cab to never see me again. Didn’t know he was in radio though.” 

“Well now you’re lying and I don’t appreciate it one ounce ma’am.“

“What?”

“Beth says he’s been coming to your shows for nearly half a year.”

No acting necessary for this part. “What are you talking about? I met him at a club. We arranged a date and he picked me up at—“

“Beth’s dive.”

“…. Yeah. Well.” He’d been there before? So often? And you never noticed…, “That’s news to me, that he had been there for so long, it’s got its regulars though so...” You shifted again, this time with a clear uncomfortable edge. 

“He stopped coming when you stopped singing.”

“….guess he got what he wanted then. A fun time in the swing hall bathroom.”  Anger. Unreal and unfounded. Trying your best to hide how confused you were.

“Sounds like a stalker, miss. Maybe one who woulda been quite unhappy to hear you were selli-,”

You cut him off, eyes snapping up to meet his, “I really recommend you reconsider your wording.”

Brady laughed with a huff, “A man dizzy with a dame can do some funny stuff. Especially if he hears she’s in a pickle.”

“Well, no knight coming to rescue me. I’ve sworn off men. It’s why I’ve been leaving work early. Getting home, reading, sleeping. He really did a number on my heart and my pride as a woman.”

Brady’s pencil stopped moving. 

“And his name?”

You’d never fucking say it. He could walk in on you moaning ‘Alastor’ and you’d still act like you’d never heard that string of syllables in your life. 

“John.”

Brady laughed and tossed the pencil to the table, “Let me guess, last name Doe?”

You shrugged, “We weren’t on a full name basis. He was handsome, he took me out, we fucked, I never saw him again” You delighted in the way his face screwed up at your unladylike language. 

“So, someone in radio named John. You know I’m going to be at every broadcaster talking to every John, right?” The nervous shaking of his notebook again. 

“When you find him let me know.”

“Oh I will.” He said it so quickly, so sharply you could feel it cut at your cheek as the words flew past you.

You pulled your hands into your lap, eyes firmly locked on Brady’s. “You look tired, sir. I hope my answers will help you. So you can rest.”

“I am tired. Of people jerking me around. You won’t give me your address, you don’t remember anyone’s name, not even your own, and you deny having a man I know you have.”

If you screamed would he have you committed? “I’m terribly sorry,” you leaned over the table and pulled a piece of fuzz off his shoulder, “my friend gave you inaccurate and dated information. I am genuinely trying to help as much as I can.”

Upon closer inspection, his eyes were more than just blue. They were dark and light, deep and shallow. Blue so far down it was nearly black. A blue so bright it was a cousin of white. Eyes you were sure would haunt you. 

“Help me then, Autumn.” Your brows rose at the request. He leaned back and away from you, “Just tell me what happened to Tommy. What your guy did. If he was trying to protect your name then we could find a sympathetic jury.”

Sympathy? Your smile was too wide, stare gone too soft. What sympathy did he have or would anyone have for you? Did he think you wanted the tender hearts of strangers? “Tommy ran off with a bag of money. He was a good man with a bad habit. That’s all I know. I have no partner, man or otherwise.”

A standstill. 

Brady felt a twitch in his hands he wasn’t used to. An itch to move. Unlike him, and a little frightening. 

Maybe he had been running himself ragged. 

Back sliding down slightly in his chair, he laced his fingers and rested them in his lap, “You know I’m gonna find out what happened, right?” His tone had shifted to something serious and calm. He said it like he was telling you a secret. Low but firm. Steady and sure. 

Those eyes. No, worse. What was behind them. You could see it clearly; unflappable determination. He absolutely would. 

“I trust you will.” A moment of silence again as you both felt the conversation die. As you stood, Brady did too.

“I wasn’t bluffing about him going to Beth’s for more than half a year now. I don’t know how you think this is gonna end but it won’t end pretty. Whether it was just your boss or all the others on my desk, end it with him and help us bring Tommy home to his mother.”

You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, “I don’t know how many time-,”

“Autumn. I’ve seen enough make up covered bruises to clock em from across the room. That’s the act of a possessive, immature man. Just think about what I said,” You opened the door in an effort to keep your hands from shooting to your neck. “There’s no white picket fence or church bells for you two. He’s a bad man. I think he may even be an evil man. You’re gonna end up hurt, or dead.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest but you managed to stifle it. With an honest smile you replied, “We’re all gonna end up dead someday, Detective. I’ll call if I have any news. Thanks for your concern and … evident hard work.” You offered a little nod of your head before leaving the room and the station as quickly as you could without running. 

When he set down his notebook after returning to his desk, he couldn’t sit. Energy was buzzing in his limbs. He needed to run or swing or pace.

His desk neighbor watched him immediately pick up the notebook again and grab his hat. A few other men shared a glance as Brady rushed out, an unsettling feeling passed among them. 

“He’s still on that case?” One asked quietly, going back to his papers.

“Not officially….” Answered Freeman, standing at the window and watching Brady flag down a taxi.

“North Villere street and Piety, please.” He told the driver, not noticing his friend in the window.

It wasn’t near the station, nor the dance scene. He wondered if your mother would be any more amiable. What kind of woman would raise such a creature as you?

When the car slowed, Brady clicked back into his surroundings. He looked through every window hoping to see something different.

After a long pause the cabbie asked, “Ya gonna get out?”

His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. “No. Take me back to the station.”

His blood pressure rose so quickly he was sure he would black out as the cab turned around and drove back past the sign; Vincent DePaul cemetery.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor kissed away the worries when he took your bag from you. Every detail of the interview was just hummed away. “Even if he finds me, without a body he has no case.” He reminded you like it was nothing short of fact.

“What if he gets one?”

“Not one of mine, I can assure you. He’d sooner need to kill someone himself and call it my fault.” A pause, was that something the detective would do? He shook off the thought. 

He was so confident that even though you knew it was just skin deep it still gave you a sense of calm. The bodies, where they went after he was done with them in the greenhouse, was the last step he hadn’t shared with you.

There was one thing you didn’t mention about the interrogation. 

You waited until you were a few drinks in, Alastor’s bowtie off and shirt unbuttoned several buttons before bringing it up. Uncharacteristically nervous about how he’d react when you broached the topic, you needed several deep breaths to get up your courage. Normally the idea of offending a man with an honest question wouldn’t ruffle you a bit, but once again there was nothing normal about you and Alastor. He made you so unlike yourself but not necessarily worse. Perhaps some consideration of other’s reactions wasn’t a bad thing. 

“This is awkward to ask.” It was dark already, the sun setting earlier and earlier. The buzz of the kitchen light could be heard through the screen door, the light just enough to let you see each other's features clearly. Leaning back on both hands for support, your legs rested in an unladylike spread down the porch stairs. No shoes. No girdle. No pretense.

Would he be mad? Or maybe offended?

“Brady said you had been going to my Sunday shows for awhile. Months before we actually met. Did you really meet me by coincidence?”

“Or was I stalking you as my next victim?” His head fell to the side, eyes closed and smile wide. “I saw you there, yes. And though you weren’t the best singer, I did enjoy your shows.”

You tried to see him without directly turning your head. 

“But yes, it was a coincidence. I had noticed that brute of a man a couple weeks in a row, staring at you so intensely. Word got around he had made a scene some time ago with a dancer.” 

You listened like someone was telling you your own story. It was an odd feeling, hearing someone recount your days from a different perspective. An unknown one. 

“I was surprised to see you at the theater when I followed him there. Even more so to see you in the alleyway.”

If he had said it wasn’t a coincidence, you genuinely didn’t know what you’d have done. You’d be scared and angry. Another predator lurking just past the tree lines.

Your relief must have been visible. “He really got to you, didn’t he?” Alastor asked, leaning over and letting his shoulder bump into yours. He was still riding the high of putting away your belongings in his closet and drawers. 

“Yeah. He gives me a bad feeling. Like…a brick wall barreling toward me.” You kicked a leaf off the steps, “Or like, when you see a big dark cloud on the horizon. Can’t do anything but wait and hunker down.”

How do you wait out a storm so set on burying you?

“Dear,” his hands rose and palms flipped up in a way that said he wasn’t hiding anything, “We get hurricanes annually. We’ve survived every one thus far. He’s just a drip. A sprinkle of a man.”

People have drowned on land before. A sprinkle could lead to pneumonia and that could lead to a wooden box. 

He tried to change the topic, laughing about Brenda’s reaction to the call and making plans for an evening out when things settled down again. You listened, but it was your turn to be half there. 

You could barely muster concern when you realized you’d forgotten your makeup and hair wrap at home when you were preparing for bed. What you would give for going home barefaced with a ruined hairdo to be the biggest stress of your week. 

The distance in your stare was weighing down his joy, how could he relish in the newest addition to his home when you were so burdened? Even in the moonless night he could see the faintest light reflecting off your eyes as you stared at the ceiling. Did you even feel his stare? 

He couldn’t let Brady poison his bed, and the man was clearly there now. Chasing you in your mind still. 

“Could I offer you a distraction?” Alastor slipped up against you, hand finding your hip. He could see your smile forming. 

“I wouldn’t argue against a distraction…,” you’d beg for one if you didn’t want to feel any lower than you already did. 

“Perfect. This bed isn’t made for three, so let’s eject that little nag, dear.” His hands slipped down your legs, “I want to replace your thoughts with better ones.” He pulled you to him, your back pressed into his broad chest. The way his soft hands smoothed over your silk slip felt like foreplay, so smooth and slick. Frictionless and gentle. Those same hands ran down and between your legs, following the line of your thighs until they found your center. “It seems you forgot something else.” Two fingers caressed your lower lips, barely parting them, “Not that I’m complaining…,” his lips found the back of your neck as his fingers rubbed gently at your core. 

It took so very little to get your body on board, wet and relaxed for his practiced hand. Your own fingers coming down to rub at your clit quickly when you felt your pleasure winding up. 

He sighed directly into the shell of your ear, hands working in tandem with yours under the covers. His back pressed against you, hips rolling into your backside in time with his fingers. 

“What are you thinking about?” Barely above a whisper as he said it into your heated skin.

“Fingers.”

“Whose?” His voice was deeper than his usual speaking tone. A tenor that made you clench around him.

“Yours.”

You’d never been so satisfied with hands before. With breath. With the sounds of a man. Never saw stars while clothed and not under the lights of the stage. Warm and wet kisses to your neck as you came down from your high, you’d never considered sex could be more than a man fucking someone. Nor that a man could find pleasure so readily with his cock still in his pants. But the way he hummed and growled softly into your skin was proof of his good time. 

You’d learned a lot from those progressively chillier nights at Alastor’s over the first week of your constant cohabitation. How much you liked waking up with someone just a reach away. How Alastor woke slowly, incapable of coherent speech for at least the first twenty minutes of his day. He’d stare and smile as his eyes blinked out of sync, rolling back occasionally as he fought the urge to fall back into sleep. Hair disheveled and soft.

When the weekend came, Alastor offered again to take you out. A promise to take you somewhere no detectives would be hiding about. A week without a peep, you were sure he had followed up with your mother and was probably steaming to get at you. But, for some reason or another, he hadn’t appeared again in the crowd of your shows. 

A week of going into work unmade and unkempt, you finally gave in and asked to be taken to your apartment early Friday. You’d grab a few items you needed, take them to work, and be back home that night. 

Your eyes were on Alastor when his car pulled up to your building. When he kissed you, your hand scratched at the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck. Eyes closed, you could smell him and feel him so much clearer. Perhaps when you were old together you wouldn’t have to worry about your sight giving out, you thought. Because you’d always know it was him by the way his skin on yours lit you up. 

“Pack something you’d like to wear out tomorrow night.” He reminded you before you pulled yourself from the car and waved him off. You lingered for a moment as he drove away, wondering if maybe the storm had been pushed off course.

“Oooh, who is he?”

Whipping around, you saw a familiar face sitting on the stoop of your building. An unwelcome one, though. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Mavis?” Your bag fell from your hands as the strength drained from your limbs.

She patted the dust off her dress before bouncing down the steps.  “The names Ephi now.” A half sister, though perhaps a quarter sister would be best to describe the often absentminded, when not literally absent, sibling. 

“That’s not a name that’s a fucking letter of the alphabet. Mama would smack the color of your cheeks if she heard you.” You were sure you’d not see her ever again, not after she ran off to head north before your mother passed. She scowled, arms crossed as you brushed past her. “I don’t have any money so you wasted a trip. See ya in another decade.”

Ephi grinned up at you as you climbed the stairs, “Looked like he had some money. Mr. Big Shot and his shiny bus.”

“Lotsa people have cars.” Your eyes landed on the suitcase poorly hidden behind the steps. Hand halting its search for the building key as you could feel the stare of your mother looking…down? A weight slipping over your shoulders like a man’s heavy winter coat.

“Well I don’t need money or cars. I need a place to crash.”

Your head fell. You could feel it coming. The gust of wind dragging the clouds slowly towards you. No, the storm wasn’t off course. It was just building momentum.

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @whateverlololo    , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

[deezee112]

Concept twst AU Squid Game

( Before you guys read this, let me tell you that English is not my first language. If I type something wrong, you can tell me and I will fix it. )

P.S. MC is clearly written as a woman, height, history, and personality, but does not specify physical appearance.

GN!MC

First of all, this AU takes place in a timeline before MC enters the twst world, so I think it would be interesting that before MC meets them in the twst world, MC meets them in the real world first.

And another interesting thing for me is that in the world of twst, they are rich, have a good status, and have a stable job. But in the real world, they have a lot of debt and are poor. (ruggie is still as poor as ever)

I think when MC came to play this game, it was because of the debt he had, maybe from his family or whatever he wanted.

But I think MC has some history similar to 120 (I can't remember her name) that she used to be a special forces soldier So I think she might be several times taller than the average woman, maybe over 180, and might have a figure similar to a man.

And in this AU, Grim and ortho are humans, so I guess they also have debts.

I think this game timeline can be viewed in two ways as part 1 or part 2. So you can imagine that you are in part 1 or part 2.

And of course as I said MC is number 456.

And here are the debts they probably have ( me and my friend discussed this And I randomize the numbers so most of the numbers I randomize.).

Riddle Rosehearts

Player : 101

Debt : Financial ruin after trying to uphold impossible standards as a perfectionist lawyer.

Trey Clover

Player : 277

Debt : Financial ruin after trying to uphold impossible standards as a perfectionist lawyer.

Cater Diamond

Player : 345

Debt : Overspending on his fake social media persona left him bankrupt.

Ace Trappola

Player : 089

Debt : Lost everything gambling after being scammed by friends.

Deuce Spade

Player : 112

Debt : His desire to help his struggling family led him to loan sharks.

Leona Kingscholar

Player : 150

Debt : Reckless spending and failed investments drained his family’s fortune.

Ruggie Bucchi

Player : 223

Debt : Grew up in poverty and borrowed money to support his family but fell deeper into debt.

Jack Howl

Player : 309

Debt : Took on debts to pay for college but was unable to keep up with payments.

Azul Ashengrotto

Player : 175

Debt : His once-successful luxury food business collapsed under competition, leaving him with unpaid loans.

Jade Leech

Player : 051

Debt : Co-signed Azul’s loans and got dragged into the fallout.

Floyd Leech

Player : 052

Debt : Recklessly spent money on gambling and lost big.

Kalim Al-Asim

Player : 304

Debt : His once-wealthy family was conned out of their fortune, leaving him penniless.

Jamil Viper

Player : 174

Debt : Took on Kalim’s debts to protect him but is bitter about the situation.

Vil Schoenheit

Player : 091

Debt : Fell from fame due to scandals and lawsuits, losing everything.

Epel Felmier

Player : 333

Debt : Family farm went bankrupt, and he took on loans to try saving it.

Rook Hunt

Player : 404

Debt : Spent exorbitant amounts pursuing his artistic hobbies, leading to financial ruin.

Idia Shroud

Player : 012

Debt : Crippling gambling addiction tied to his love of online games.

Ortho Shroud (Human)

Player : 101

Debt : Ortho’s debt stems from medical bills, failed technological projects, and personal loans that he took out to try and keep his family business alive after their passing. These debts were exacerbated by his desperation

Malleus Draconia

Player : 065

Debt : Lost his family fortune due to mysterious circumstances, now a recluse.

Lilia Vanrouge

Player : 184

Debt : Took on debts trying to help others but was betrayed

Silver

Player : 217

Debt : Inherited debt from his family, despite trying to live modestly.

Sebek zigvolt

Player : 324

Debt : He owes a large sum of money to a powerful group that used his debts to manipulate and control him.

y/n

Player : 456

Debt : No personal debt but Need money to pay off family debts

Grim (Human)

Player : 067

Debt : Gambling addiction left him deeply in debt after losing his family’s inheritance

Che'nya

Player : 297

Debt : A combination of gambling debts and reckless investments in travel and lifestyle.

Neige LeBlanche

Player : 209

Debt : His extravagant lifestyle, including luxury purchases and costly beauty treatments, left him in crippling debt after his fame faded.

Rollo Flamme

Player : 315

Debt : Lost his fortune after an unsuccessful business venture in the entertainment industry, now trying to regain his family’s lost wealth.

Ernesto Foulworth

Player : 234

Debt : A high-stakes gambler with an obsession with luxury cars and expensive hobbies. His addiction led to his financial downfall.

Skully J Graves

Player : 103

Debt : A failed actor with mountains of debt after gambling away his small inheritance. His pursuit of fame turned into an obsession with keeping up appearances.

Imagine MC playing Six-Legged Pentathlon with Azul.

[mysillytdsideblog]

My headcanons for mike & co

Vito

Co-host w/ Mike from ages 14-16

Mentally 18-19 ish

System big brother

Handles a lot of the family issues

The one who steps up fr

Sexual Protector Alter

Trauma Holder, but doesnt have a full picture of their trauma

Sexualizes self for attention

Just a cool guy if u get to know him

Wishes he was more built irl lol

He was the one dating their first girlfriend

She didnt know about their DID, both Mike and Vito would rather keep that private

Wants a normal life

Also held down their first job (semi-canon)

He gives a shit but can be emotionally reserved

He doesn’t hate Mal, he just finds him frustrating

A bit of a troublemaker but not out of wanting bad for the system, it’s just the way he is

Creeped out by Mal, thats why he doesn’t like him

Secretly holds grudges but doesn’t tell them unless he’s picking a fight

Kinda a pothead

Chester

Mentally 60s-70s

No specific trauma memories, but he was split from trauma

Has never been the host but he switches in quite often

One of the first alters to have been discovered by their psych

At first the psych thought they were faking just cause of how theatrical Chester was, and how much it annoyed Mal

The psych thought they were faking to get out of juvie

Not to help, Mal said it was a “voice in his head” and would talk to him out loud, not caring who heard

He’s not an introject, but they don’t know why he’s old

He just is who he is

They don’t know why he has a scar over his eye, they presume there’s a trauma reason for it but nobody has any memory of something bad happening to their eye

He feels like he’s a grandfather to Mike, but the feeling’s not reciprocated

Not yet at least

Mike learns to love him

He gets annoyed by Chester still but he finds him more endearing

He likes his hot beverages and pastries

And yelling at the tv

He finds commenting on everything so entertaining

He’s co-con 80% of the time

He finds fronting to be physically exhausting, like it makes him physically feel his age

Has chronic pain in his hips and joints, his psych says it’s phantom pain

He loves his psych, he could go on for hours

He loves little kitty cats! There has never been a cat he couldn’t pet

He wishes he was more welcome when visiting nursing homes, he feels lonely but they don’t like his “portrayal” of an old man

He had gotten kicked out before

Actually, he gets kicked out of places quite often

He has health anxiety and constantly thinks he’s going to fall ill and die

His doctor is so fed up

He believes so many wives tales and basically you can tell him anything and he will believe you (unless he’s in a mood, then he’s just going to shout at you)

Mal

Ambigious early childhood to age 13 host

Mentally shifts between 13 to 17

Persecutor/Protector

Mainly a physical protector, kind of the mind’s back up plan for when things get rough and he needs to protect himself or take action

Holds most of the memory of the physical abuse

Split directly for that reason

He was one of the first

Hates his parents and tries to cause problems as a revenge for all the abuse he endured

Sadistic for this reason

He knew from a very young age that nobody was coming to save him, and they never did

Telling all the trauma he knew about in a court ordered psychiatric evaluation was the main reason he got diagnosed, but he was hoping it was going to put his parents in prison

It didnt

He was originally going to be diagnosed with ASPD before they scrapped that for just a DID diagnosis, mainly because his symptoms were too mixed and inconsistent due to the other alters existing

He still agrees ASPD fits him though and after TDAS he does more specific treatments for it in therapy

They do get diagnosed with ODD though

Basically everyone but Svetlana shows symptoms for it

Mal has it the worst because he has so much pent up hatred from everyone who hurt or failed him

And he only gets the bare minimum when he takes it into his own hands, but its better than nothing

Really clashed with Zoey at first but he was the one to make her understand them more, in his own roundabout way

Actually became close friends with Zoey even if they have their conflicts

Mike

Same age as body

Kinda bigender tbh but he’s not ready for that

Thinks he should be the one to call all the shots because he thinks hes the original

Hes not, there is none

Doesn’t have a lot of childhood memories

Nobody tells him about their trauma

Besides Mal when he’s trying to prove a point

He hates Mal because Mal threatens his sense of control

He overcompensates, being a system scares him so if he’s in charge he will be able to make sure everything’s ok

Just finally coming out of denial, still half in it

He hates being a system

Rude to his alters!!!

After All Stars, he sees his psych again who scolds him

And teaches him to accept his disorder

He does better

He compromises more, he learns that his alters are people too, he adapts to his multiplicity and eventually is the key to achieving functionality between all of them

He struggles to accept Mal, because of his persecutory nature, but he learns why Mal does what he does and with a little work from them both they are able to compromise

Mal has to grow and learn too don’t get me wrong

Svetlana

Same age as body

Transbian

Doesn’t mind being a system tbh

She likes the company

Hosts for short periods but only for upcoming competitions really because its hard for her to pretend to be a singlet

She doesn’t like hiding who she is, she’s way more open about her DID than the others are

She wishes she has more girl friends to talk with but they all know her as mike or mal :(

Total sporty girl she is multi talented in soooo many sports

Gymnastics is her fav obv

Why she has an accent? Who knows? Possibly an introject or maybe shes just like that but as far back as they remember she was there

They are all confused

Has good childhood memories, trauma free

She definitely loved recess and fronted a lot during the school years

Loves making friends, shes very social and kind!!

She’s also the most understanding and gives the best advice

Very emotional and it can be quite theatrical, on par with chester

She’s the one who gets along the most with their parents

Picky eater

She likes to eat clean and hates that the other alters eat meat because she finds it soooo gross

Has her own separate drawer in their dresser for her clothes

Bird lover and has owned pet birds before

Manitoba

Introject, half indiana jones-half steve irwin

Not a fusion he was just made like that

30s-40s

The most recent split

Has a fleshed out part of the interworld including NPCs (like his wife) and spends most of his time there (semi-canon)

He doesn’t prefer to front, he just found total drama fun to compete in

Dreams of traveling the world

Really longs for his innerworld to be real

Tries to keep everyone in line

Wishes they would be less trouble

He doesn’t side with anyone, which makes Mike very angry but he can also see a side to Mal that Mike can’t

He’s the most logical and level headed one

Loves collecting things especially memorabilia from places he’s been

He knows so many animal facts and just general knowledge

It makes Mike feel stupid cause he doesn’t know all that but its in his brain, it confused him how that works still

[sarawritestories]

Love Story (All Too Well Chapter 1 Pt 2)

Cassian X OC, Eris X OC

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Torture, Dub con, Physical abuse, Under the mountain trials

A/N: Special Thanks to @milswrites and @eve175 for keeping me sane when I wrote this and honestly prevented me from scraping and starting over again!

Also Two post in one day from me! I am on a roll! And probably will be taking a small break 😅😅

All Too Well Master List ACOTAR Masterlist

The sound of Amarantha’s screams was like music to Eris Vanserra’s ears. He watched as Tamlin ripped her to shreds, glancing over to see Estella holding Feyre’s body close to her murmuring something to herself that his fae hearing couldn’t pick up on. The screams ceased and Tamlin walked back to where the young fae princess and the human cursebreaker.

Eris watched as Estella a tear-streaked face looked up at the High Lord of Spring her laced covered chest heaving, “I’m so sorry Tamlin.” She lowered her head in shame, as if this was her fault.

Tamlin lifted Estella’s face to meet his eyes, “This wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

Eris moved toward Amarantha’s mutilated body as he heard Estella let out a sob, “You asked me to protect her I failed.” Eris closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest hoping the ache would dissipate.

Eris looked over at Amarantha’s remains that were mostly ribbons of flesh and found what he was looking for as Tamlin hushed the Princess of Night. “You did no such thing, Stella, now please give her to me.”  Tamlin’s voice was tender as he knelt in front of the female holding his love’s corpse. “Come on, Flower.”  

Romeo Save Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Eris looked over at the dais to see Estella, half of her pinned to the back of her head, the rest of her hair had fallen past her breast in soft curls. Clad in a sheer orange gown, the fabric barely covering anything, especially how his high queen had her positioned on Tamlin’s lap. Her legs spread by his thighs, her back pressed against his chest. The Princess placed her hand over the Lord of Spring and Eris noticed his thumb moved over hers and began swiping periodically. As if he was trying to bring her comfort. The heir of Autumn knew those two were friends just never realized how close the pair was.

The red-haired male moved his gaze to the rest of the ballroom, fighting the urge to clench his fist, he caught his brother’s attention. His russet eyes met with a similar pair of Lucien, his metal eye zeroing in on him. The young Emissary of the spring court’s face was impassive though his eyes, held pure resentment. Lucien didn’t let his stare linger on his brother rather it moved to his two friends at the front of the room. Guilt threatened to take hold, but the eldest Vanserra brother forced it down in a box where he kept most of his emotions shutting the lid tight. Another person that he had let down.

“Estella, darling be a dear and entertain us.” Amarantha’s voice drew Eris his attention back to the princess of night. “Dance.”

Estella froze, “Your Majesty?”

Amarantha pinched her chin, “I said dance, has whoring you around my court made you dumb.” Eris gripped the side of his leg tightly as he glanced over to the High Lord of Night, his tanned face a mask of cool indifference, Eris gazed lowered to Rhysand’s hands to find his knuckles were white as a result of gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

“No, Your Majesty,” Estella responded. “Or perhaps you would prefer to give a dance to one person.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, “Your majesty, I would be-“

Amarantha whipped her head, “No.” She looked out to the assembly in the hall. “I will accept volunteers from anyone that is not related to her.”

Eris’s feet moved of his own accord and managed to reach the dais before Lucien could. As he bowed lowed, “Your majesty. Though I have no need for a dance, I would be honored.”

Amarantha’s voice had a jovial lilt to it, “Ah Eris Vanserra. Yes, you have my permission to use her, however, you please. Rise. Claim your whore.”

Eris rose to his full height and walked up to the young heiress. He held out a hand for her, “Come now, Viper.” Estella curled her mouth in a small snarl, though her eyes were vacant, hallow as if she mentally went somewhere else. Though she gripped his hand all the same. He yanked her off Tamlin’s lap and pressed her chest to his. His arm snaked around her waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of her hip. Electricity bolted up his arm at the contact though he easily ignored it.

“Estella, how do you thank Eris, for claiming you this evening.” Amarantha prodded; Eris didn’t miss her face contorted in a grimace. Before she looked up her ice blue eyes meeting his warm copper ones, life had returned to her, but Eris could feel her dread, it emulated around her like a shield. Though that didn’t stop her from lifting her hand sliding it up the red velvet embroidered vest he was wearing. Or when her soft, gentle fingers slid up his neck and through the silken strands of his long hair.

She rose on her tippy toes her plump lips inches away from his own, “Thank you, Prince Eris,” Estella closed the distance kissed him. Eris slid his hand up her back, lightly grazing her spine as his hand wrapped around her raven-colored locks and yanked her back hard enough to cause a gasp from the princess’ mouth, giving the Autumn Court Heir access to slide his tongue against her. She tasted as sweet as he hoped she would. His tongue clashing with hers he could have sworn a small moan escaped her throat.

The need for oxygen and knowing that the two had put on enough of a show for their audience, Eris pulled away, with a smirk as Estella opened her eyes her pupils blissed out from their moment. Before he could ask, Amarantha, was waving her hand, “Eris you and your pet are dismissed for the evening.”

Eris bowed, and Estella followed suit, aware that it would expose her backside to the fae standing behind them. Eris placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out into the hall. The two had walked down for a few moments the sound of Estella’s skirt swishing against her skin, her hands clasped in front of her, when she asked, “What do you plan on doing with me, Princeling?”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on the prince’s body, as he sighed, “Sleep, My Little Viper. We’re going to sleep.”

This Love Is Difficult, But It's Real

The whole court ogled around and watched as the High Lords of Prythian dropped a kernel of power on the human girl that saved them all. Eris Vanserra on the other hand watched as his brother held onto the Princess of Night as her sobs softened. He could see Lucien whispering in her ear though from where he stood even his fae hearing wouldn’t be able to decipher. Ignoring the spectacle Eris walked over to one his handmaidens.

She bowed when he approached, saying nothing, he gripped the plump woman’s sleeve and began wiping the blood of the Tiara he grabbed. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked over to Lucien and Estella. The youngest Vanserra son tightened his hold on Estella when Eris approached. “Relax, brother, today is a joyous day. We can put aside our differences for now.” Lucien growled, “Feel free to hate me again tomorrow.”

Estella’s eyes pierced the Autumn Prince’s and Eris presents the tiara glancing down at the lace covered bodice of her dress that dipped down to her stomach, “I believe this belongs to you, Little Viper.”  He smirked as he met her eyes again. She glanced at his hands and reached out to grab the accessory from him, tearing herself from Lucien’s arms as she did so. Eris took a step back and dangled the tiara above her head, “Allow me.” He motions for his index finger to spin around. She obeyed and crossed her arms, the dark red silk of her dress swirling as she did. Her scent of Ocean mist and Jasmine invaded his nose he fought the notion to bask in her scent, as he placed the tiara on top of her head. Stepped closer and noticed the sharp breath she took as his nose brushed against her ear, “There now you look fit to rule a kingdom, Princess.”

He could hear her heartrate quicken as he took a step away and once more as cheers erupted through the cave. The three of them turned to find Feyre embraced in Tamlin’s arms, ears pointed heartbeat strong and steady. “By the Cauldron.” Lucien whispered and ran up to his friends. Leaving the two alone.

“I have to thank you, Princeling.” Estella’s voice broke the tension.

“For?”

“Giving me brief little moments of reprieve from this nightmare.” Her piercing eyes met his, “I am in your debt.”

Eris was about to dispute it when in a flash arm wrapped around Estella pulling her into a tight embrace, had he not seen the matching raven-colored hair, the heir of Autumn would have prepared for an attack. Rhysand pulled away as if remembering where he had put his hands in his pockets assessed his sister. “Are you hurt?”

Estella turned to Eris only to find he was already gone. She sighed and looked back at her brother. “I’m fine, Rhys.”

He nodded and, in her mind said, The High Lords are meeting to figure out the next steps. I don’t know how long that will take. Then out loud he said, “As your High Lord, I’m demanding you head home immediately and make sure our court held up in our absence.” Estella noticed the hint of a smirk on his face, Tell Cassian hello for me, and that I’ll be home soon.

Estella’s face lit up, she kissed her brother on the cheek, “Thank you, High Lord.” She took a step, looked back toward Lucien and Tamlin. Both males embracing Feyre. Green eyes met hers and with a dip of his chin she bolted and winnowed home.

I’ll Be Waiting

The Summer night breeze kissed her skin as she arrived in front of the town home. Home. She was home. Picking up her skirts she bolted through the front door of the town home. She could hear laughter in the dining room pause when the door slammed shut. Before anyone could get up, she ran into the room. Gasp and fallen utensils were the only thing she heard before, Morrigan her hair in perfect waves and dressed in her signature red gown rose from her seat, her eyes turning glassy. “So, it’s true? It’s over?” She asked.

Estella wiped the stray tears that had begun to fall, “Yeah. Its over.” She croaked as Mor pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck, I have missed you guys.”

A pair of scarred calloused hands tugged at her bare shoulders, “Don’t hog her, Mor.” Azriel’s deep voice joked as he pulled her into an embrace of his own. He pulled away and she felt the cool kiss of his shadows up and around her body, checking for injuries. He pressed his forehead to hers, “Its good to have your home.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and guided her to a chair. He began to make her a plate of food, as he asked, “Where’s Rhys?”

Estella eyes grew wide with the spread Azriel placed before her. Taking a heaping bite before she answered, she couldn’t help but moan as the warm food met her mouth. The bountiful flavor bursting on her tongue. She looked at Mor, and Az as she swallowed her food and said, “He said there would be a meeting with the High Lord’s about what is going to happen next, no doubt trying to get Amarantha’s” She fought the cringe at the sound of the female’s name coming out of her mouth, “men collected and figuring out what to do with them.”

Amren’s cold calculating voice was a welcome reprieve, “Why didn’t you stay with him?”

Estella turned her head to the female and smiled, “He wanted me to come home, let you know he would be back soon.” Estella, smiled and looked at the table, acutely aware of the empty missing, “Where is he?”

Azriel gave her a warm smile and placed his hand on top of her own his hazel eyes ablaze with warmth and happiness, “He went to the Illyrian camps a few weeks ago. He has been spending a lot of time up there to personally train his soldiers.  He says its to make sure they have the best training we can offer.”

Estella felt guilt bubble in her stomach, “But?”

Azriel’s face fell slightly, his shadows curling around him as a form of comfort, “He had been struggling staying in Velaris for too long. It Reminded him of you and the future you two were planning. He missed you.”

“We all did, Girl.” Amren corrected. Estella’s blue eyes met her swirling silver ones, “Don’t look so surprised. Your quick wit against these overgrown bats was impressive. It was nice to not be the only one with a silver tongue.”

Estella blinked; she couldn’t remember a time when Amren had outwardly complimented her. Though she wasn’t about to question the tiny one’s motives, she went back to shoveling food in her mouth. She went for seconds and cleaned that plate too, Azriel grabbed her plate when she attempted to go for more, “Pace yourself, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“The food was awful down there.” If she got any that was. She didn’t miss the concerned glances from her friends when she arrived. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in 50 years and she was afraid to, terrified at what her reflection might reveal. How badly Amarantha’s abuse taken a toll on her physically as it had emotionally.  Estella met Azriel’s gaze and he gave her a smile, kissing the side of her head. Estella cleared her throat, “Um, I am going to go upstairs and wash up.”

Mor gave her a warm smile, one she never thought she would see again, “Your room has not been touched, your clothes have been routinely cleaned.”

Estella rubbed her chest and the base of her throat fighting the emotion threatening to come up. “Thank you.” 

Azriel cupped her cheek. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, “Welcome home, Princess.”

She wrapped her arms around Az and squeezed him tightly. “I missed you. I never thought I would see you again.”

“Likewise.” He pressed his hand on the back of her head holding her close. “Fuck.” She pulled away at the Shadow  Singer’s expletive and saw that his eyes lined with silver. “I’m just..” He took a deep breath, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Me too, Az. I missed your face.” He laughed wiping his eyes, as she looked to all three of her friends, “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.” The two females rose from their seats and as if they were reading each other’s thoughts smothered the young female into a tight embrace, where she let her tears flow freely.

Home. She was finally, Home.

On The Balcony In Summer Air

The cool night air kissed Estella's skin for the first time in fifty years as she leaned against the balcony the silk of her red night gown doing nothing to prevent the chill, but the female couldn’t bring herself to care. Looking up at the night sky. She couldn't help but smile as tears pickled her pale blue eyes. This is what it felt like:

To be free

"Hello, Sweetheart." The low timbre of a familiar voice elicited a sob to escape her throat. Turning from the view of the city, she met glassy hazel eyes, bruises darkening his tanned skin under them. His wings were tucked back, but his siphons glowed.

She gave him a watery smile, "Hello, General." She covered her mouth to stifle the sobbed. Not being able to contain herself, she leaped into his awaiting arms and legs wrapping around his waist. Burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Cassian's arm held her up by her waist, his free hand pressing the back of her head holding her close, tears streaming down his own face. Estella pulled away and pressed her lips to his.

Cassian pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, "Welcome home, Estella." And his lips reattached to hers as he took her to their shared bed. Plopping her down on the bed his hazel eyes met her blue ones he swiped a strand of hair from her face.

She cupped her hands against his face, and took a moment to look at him, his eyes had dark circles under them, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in the last fifty years. He had grown out a beard the scruff rough against her skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”  She whispered.

Cassian cupped his hand against her cheek, tears spilling down his face. “I’m thinking that you are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” He kissed her forehead, “I’m thinking that I can’t believe that you are right here in my arms.” She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’m thinking…” He took a deep breath, and she opened her eyes. “I’m thinking, how I never thought I would see you again. And yet here you are.”

Estella smiled, “Here I am.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart and he closed his eyes as he felt its steady beat. “Cassian, not a day went by where I didn’t wish to be with you. To be in your arms.” Tears threatened to fall but she forced it down. “I missed you so much.”

Cassian shushed her and placed his lips on to hers in a gentle kiss, “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know. I missed you. More than you could ever know.” He kissed her again, “And just so we’re clear when your brother comes home. I am beating the shit out of him.”

“Cass?”

“Hmm?” He smirked.

She gripped the collar of his leathers and pulled him closer to him, he growled in approval as she whispered on his lips, “Do not say my brother’s name while you’re in my bed.” And she clashed her lips onto his.

Estella ran her fingers through Cassian’s curls as the General was fast asleep on his stomach.  Sliding out of her bed, she opened the drawer of her nightstand, grabbed a piece of parchment, and walked back out onto her balcony. Looking back once more she made sure that Cassian remained asleep as she turned back to the parchment in her hands. Opening the parchment thinking about the author of the note.

Estella awoke back in her cell. The memory of Autumn leaves and cinnamon returning to her.  She adjusted to a sitting position her brows furrowing as she felt something in her palm. Opening the note, her breath quickened as bile threatened to rise as the question, she asked the night before came to the forefront of her mind:

“Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

One sentence gave her his answer in perfectly neat handwriting.

I want you, My Little Viper.

Estella folded the paper and threw it on the opposite side of the cell. Pulling her knees up to her chest she had to question just how far the Prince of Autumn would go to get what he wants.

Estella sighed, staring down at the swirls of Eris’ handwriting, questions swirling in her mind.  As if she summoned him with her thoughts; a note appeared in front of her. Grabbing the parchment, she unfolded it.

Will you ever truly be free, Little Viper?

Estella glared at the parchment hoping it would erupt into flames. Folding both notes, she walked into her room, placed the notes in her nightstand, and went back to bed. The General of the Night Court’s armies arm pulling her against his chest. Though luscious red hair and russet eyes plagued her dreams.

You’ll Be The Prince and I’ll Be the Princess

After fifty long years Eris, stepped into the familiar room of orange, red and gold hues of his study. Twelve heads perked up as they saw Eris step in. The familiar dark eyes of his hounds perked up and all of them ran to their owner’s side. He bent down on a knee and allowed each of them a total of one lick per dog. Unable to fight the smile from his features of reuniting with his companions. “Hello dear Friends. I have missed you dearly.”   They all swished their tails at the sound of their master’s voice.

Home after Amarantha’s fall, the High Lords met for two days in a row and after sitting in a room with massive egos, it was nice to return home to the quiet of his study.  He walked over to his desk the mountain of paperwork there. He sighed and leaned against his chair closing his eyes, only for the ice blue eyes and raven-black hair plagued his brain. He pressed his hands to his eyes and groaned.

He sat up and removed his hands from his eyes, as an idea began to form. Opening his drawer to find his favorite quill and ink pots right where he left them. Pulling them out along with the stack of parchment. Eris began to write, as soft pink lips and the scent of Ocean Mist and Jasmine lingered in his mind as his quill began swirling across the parchment:

My Sweet Little Viper. My Beautiful Mate.

It’s A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes

To Be Continued...

Story tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357 @shadowdaddies @bxm-1012 @inkyvelvet @chasing-autumns-chill @ghostwritermia @esposadomd @anuttellaa @slytherintaco @marigold-morelli @saltedcoffeescotch

If I missed someone please let me know!

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 1/14/2024

"surely this will be the worst book i read as part of this gay and lesbian erotica project," i say with faint hope. while i was discussing it with my bestie via facetime mackintosh completely gave up killing mr cactus so i can only assume she was KO'd by this book too

patch notes: split up the reading section into "article" and "not an article" for easier navigation

listening

another one for the "SOMEBODY COME FUCK THIS (GAY)" playlist. just fun horny pop with some sick riffs. thank you spotify weekly recs.

-

reading (article)

sometimes i think i've found a completely new type of guy, and then i find out what flavor of engineering he's retired from (metallurgical) and it suddenly makes him a known and cataloged typed of guy and i know where to shelve him. very charming home website, very charming writeup about buying out failing pinball businesses, the difficulties of production, and just like the love of the game? as a loving maintainer of things myself, i am fascinated by other loving maintainers.

i also had some very loose thoughts about cycles of games in various categories of play in general but then looked up some stuff to make sure i knew what the fuck i was talking about and guess what! i don't.

"There's a cycle of pinball. It's like a seven-year cycle, ups and downs and so forth," Young said. "Peak might have been about 1992 if you look at the number of games produced. It was like 120,000 games." But, from there, Young said, it was a steady decline of roughly 10 percent per year. ... Young eventually bought out Gottlieb's backlog of parts and numerous pieces of manufacturing equipment, operating a revenue share with the company for a time before taking outright control of the inventory. That's how The Pinball Resource became the de facto source for all things Gottlieb, but it wouldn't end there. "We've picked up all these pieces as the pinball business has shrunk and fallen apart," Young said. "I sat down once with a yellow pad, and I started writing down the number of distributors that I bought their stock, right? And I filled the side of the page and turned the page over before I got done." ... "This is probably one of the world's largest collections of schematics," Young said. "Every Gottlieb schematic in the world is in that filing cabinet." Schematics from other manufacturers sit nearby, along with endless manuals covering games from many brands and eras. I told him that the 1986 Williams machine High Speed was my favorite. Ten seconds later, he had the original manual in hand.

-

reading (not an article)

and now for the erotica. this has four stars on goodreads and i have zero fucking clue why.

this is published in 2010 by Intaglio and is the author's eleventh novel. it is difficult to believe this is her eleventh novel and that she had beta readers (who she thanks) bc there is very little internal consistency. unpleasant paper texture also.

Professor Tess Rawlins spent the last twelve years teaching agriculture in California, away from Montana and her heart. When she’s called back to the sprawling Double R cattle ranch and her ailing father, Tess is thrown back into the world she had nearly forgotten since the death of her brother two years earlier. Unsettling memories boil to the surface for Tess, and her only pleasant distraction is the new cook Claire Redman and her son Jack. However, there is more facing Professor Rawlins than dealing with the memory of her brother or her attraction to Claire. Tess must figure a way to save the Rawlins’s five thousand acres of rich grassland. It has thrived for five generations, when her great-grandfather started the dynasty in the 1880s; now she may lose it all to an unscrupulous land developer. Set in the foothills of the Bitterroots, Tess and Claire find themselves in the fight of their lives—for love and the sea of grass.

the only fun bit of construction is the beginning, with a prologue starring Tess's beloved great-uncle at the university he teaches at, and then a time skip to his great-niece in the same room teaching at the same university worrying about a lot of the same things. other than that, not a well constructed book, from a technical standpoint. in the first eighteen pages: seventeen laughs, ten grins, seven smiles, four cheek kisses, and three regular kisses. and a partridge in a pear tree. this will continue throughout the book. sometimes people will laugh more than once in a sentence. sometimes three people will laugh as a dialogue tag back to back. it has a very Go Dog Go early reader feel at times. it is difficult to believe real alive humans would say some of this dialogue. erotic. EROTIC. extremely erotic!!!

not a lot of internal consistency either: they get very worried about how they lost more calves than they thought they would and then ten pages later they are like actually we lost almost none! there are abrupt seasonal changes from what is established to be early April with snow on the ground to a blazingly hot afternoon necessitating dunking your whole head in a water trough within a (again, established! In the text!) week. one chapter it’s September and the next chapter they’re talking about the Fourth of July rodeo next month. i had to reread a page three times to figure out how they teleported to the middle of the pasture from the middle of the kitchen and not in a “and they found themselves outside” way. someone goes from leaning on a counter to leaning on a fence post.

the murder mystery resolves by someone going to jail but we never actually find out what happened. like ever. there is a fade to black after a fight in the street bc Tess has a hunch and suddenly the guy is in jail. how did her brother die? and why? who knows! the romantic progression also makes wild stuttering leaps forward. there is a very halfhearted jealousy subplot with a man. there is a third act breakup for no plausible reason, and the love interest is essentially kidnapped off a train, dragged back to the ranch, and everyone claps. literally claps.

not very coherent or detail-oriented. some of the most lackluster sex scenes i have ever read. not really sure why this one is sandwiched between two fade to black scenes.

this made me appreciate last week's book way more bc while it was not for me, it was at least coherent and had interesting progressions of both characters and events.

-

watching

Night Train to Munich (1940, dir. Reed).

Carol Reed’s Night Train to Munich is a twisting, turning, cloak-and-dagger delight, combining comedy, romance, and thrills with the greatest of ease. Paced like an out-of-control locomotive, Night Train takes viewers on a journey from Prague to England to the Swiss Alps as Nazis pursue a Czech scientist and his daughter (Margaret Lockwood), who are being aided by a debonair British undercover agent, played by Rex Harrison. This captivating, long-overlooked adventure—which features Paul Henreid and a clever screenplay by Frank Launder and Sidney Gilliat, best known for writing Alfred Hitchcock’s The Lady Vanishes—is a deftly concocted spy game that could give the Master of Suspense a run for his money.

i don't think it's as briskly paced as the criterion collection (above) thinks it is, but it was a good, tense watch. darkly, dryly funny-- there's a copy of Gone With The Wind on a newsstand between copies of Mein Kampf.

THE most high-stakes fake dating ever devised. they are constantly swooning over each other and the instant they are alone they are hissing at each other about how if you could FIND it in your HEART to find me ANYWHERE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF ATTRACTIVE, maybewecanwiggleoutofthispickle!!! i do not typically like fake dating but this fucked, thank u carol reed director of my heart

-

playing

i have been playing genshin impact since 1.0 and this week have discovered one chest in each of the two earliest areas. do i have eyes at all. do i know how to use them. the first case i had to pick every carrot in a patch, in the second case i had to kick some medium-strong enemies to the curb before accidentally knocking over an archery target. and apparently i have not done either of those things for four fucking years! it's kind of wild how much the game has moved away from hidden chests and puzzles like that.

one other annoyance: this game Does Not Want to let me climb on balloons. this is in the teapot, a place where you can stash furnishings and companions and make little scenes, but can i go to the cool balloon? no. fuck you.

-

making

my allergies have been acting up even after diligent cleaning and filter changing and vigorous cat brushing and letting the debri from all that die back down. have YOU ever taken all the little glass shades off all your ceiling fans and bathroom light fixtures and put them through the dishwasher? i don't think anyone had ever cleaned the fans in this apartment. ever.

[auras-moonstone]

Holaaa me emocione bastante con saber q eres de argentina (yo no soy de argentina soy de Mexico) pero esta cool saber q también hablas español lol

llevo rato leyendo tus trabajos y me encanta como escribeees, no se que te parezca la idea de una historia de Ethan como Spiderman tbh es mi head canon favorito y no hay mucha gente que lo escriba ahí una idea no se si sigas aceptando requests o si ya habías escrito algo de Ethan como Spiderman pero me encantaría leer algo así escrito por ti obvi 🤭

(En ingles ofc!)

Perdooon si escribí bastante me emocione jajaja apenas agarre el valor Para dejar un request

hola 🇲🇽 ! perdón por haber tardado tanto en escribir esta request😫 me encantó la idea, hace bastante que quería escribir algo sobre ethan como spiderman <3 espero que te guste❤️🫶🏻

the story of us — ethan landry

word count: 2,693

pairing: spider-man!ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan and y/n’s relationship might be ending soon because of the boy’s behaviour and secrets.

based on: the story of us by taylor swift

warnings: mention of blood. a bit of angst.

Y/N SHOULDN’T FEEL SURPRISED FOR HAVING BEEN STOOD UP BY ETHAN, it seemed to be his favourite hobby lately. But when he came up to her with regretful puppy eyes asking for them to meet so he could explain the reason behind his behaviour, she really thought he would keep his word and show up to fix things.

But once again he failed her, and now Y/N was walking back home alone with mascara running down her face and with her chest filled with disappointment and sadness.

Y/N was walking through the dark and unsafe NYC streets, wondering what excuse her boyfriend was going to use this time, when she heard a whimper coming from the creepy unlit alley she was passing by. Her whole body tightened with fear, hands instantly became sweaty, her heart thundered dangerously fast and yet she stopped walking. Then the noise came again, this time more clear—it was a pained curse from a male voice.

The girl couldn’t decide if she was stupid or too brave, but she walked towards the person. Her eyes widened at the scene—there, sitting next to a container, was Spiderman; a bleeding Spiderman.

“Holy hell, are you okay?” she cried, inspecting the wound. “Of course you’re not okay! You’re bleeding a lot! A lot!”

Ethan cursed internally. Of all the people who could have found him, it had to be her. “Thanks for the calming words.” the superhero said between gritted teeth.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have said that. I was exaggerating, it’s not that bad.” Y/N tried to convince him.

“You’re a horrible liar” his hands were shaking as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here, the smell is awful.” the girl said, putting one of his—very strong and muscled—arms around her shoulders. “I know you’re in pain, but I need you to use a bit of your strength to help me lift you to your feet. Can you do that?” the masked figure nodded. “Okay, at the count of three.”

Ethan closed his eyes in pain as he let out a cry of agony. He had been walking towards the cafe where Y/N worked when he heard screaming. An old woman and her granddaughter were being robbed and it was his duty to save them. He would’ve made it to his date with Y/N if the thief’s partner hadn’t caught him off guard and sliced his stomach. Time didn’t matter anymore, he couldn’t show up wounded, and he didn’t have the energy to walk so he stayed in that creepy alley where Y/N found him.

“Ouch!” he yelled when the girl carelessly dropped him on her couch as soon as they arrived to her apartment.

“Sorry!” Y/N said guiltily. “My arms hurt.”

“It’s okay. Thank you, I just need to rest here for a few minutes and I’ll be out of your sight.” he panted.

“You can’t leave! I need to clean you up and then you need to eat something.”

“No, it’s okay. Look, just lend me a first-aid kit, I’ll do it myself. Then I’m leaving.” it wasn’t that Ethan was ungrateful for her help, he just didn’t want to be a burden. Also, if she was to see his body, she was going to recognize him instantly. And Ethan was not going to let that happen.

“Hey, you’re always saving our asses, it’s time someone finally takes care of you.” she smiled softly.

“I really appreciate that, seriously. But I’d be more comfortable doing it myself, if you don’t mind.”

“As you wish.” she said in understanding. And as he stitched himself up, Y/N went to the kitchen to prepare something for him to eat.

Ethan watched her from the doorframe. He wanted to close the space so badly, he wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and never let go. They saw each other everyday, but it’s been days since the last time he got to hold her, kiss her, touch her.

Y/N was really pissed at him, and with good reason. Countless were the times he had stood her up and he slowly—and absentmindedly—started to distance himself from her. And a few days ago, Y/N just exploded and they started fighting. Instead of telling her the truth (that he was a superhero and that the NYC streets were more dangerous than he had thought) he told her she was being dramatic and that he needed a bit of space. He regretted it instantly, and wanted to throw up as soon as his eyes caught her hurt expression. He was trying to keep her safe, but he handed everything in the worst way possible and ended up wounding the person that meant the most to him.

“You cooked for me?” he spoke up. Even though she couldn’t see it, she felt the smile on his voice.

“I told you, it’s time someone takes care of you.” she answered. “Is the wound okay? Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’m a big tough boy.” he said in a teasing voice when she finished. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved me.”

“Anytime, Spider-boy. And honestly, you shouldn’t even thank me, you risk your life for us every- wait a minute.” she stopped when she realised something. “How do you know my name?”

Fuck, he cursed internally. He had messed up. “You told me.” he tried to sound confident.

“No, I didn’t. Do we know each other? Do we go to the same college?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I need to go.” he stood up abruptly, and a whimper of pain left his mouth.

“No! I’m sorry, I won’t press the subject.” she said, grabbing his forearms to sit him back on the chair. “I respect you wanting to keep your identity hidden. I won’t ask any more questions, but please stay. You’re still weak, you need to eat something.”

“You already did a lot. Really.”

“I swear to god, stop being stubborn.”

Who was he kidding with the hesitation? Just one look at her doe eyes and he was on his knees. As he ate, Y/N had her back to him so he could take his mask off. She could have turned around at any time and discover that the friendly neighbour hero was her boyfriend, but she never did. She respected his wish of not wanting to show his face, and that made him love her ever more.

“Your omelette was great” he said as he put the plate on the dishwasher. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Why were you crying?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. Ethan and Y/N weren’t on speaking terms, so maybe by talking to her through his secret identity would give him an insight on how to fix the relationship he tore up.

The sad girl frowned and pressed her lips into a line. She didn’t talk to her friends much about Ethan because she didn’t want to put them in an uncomfortable position, as they were all friends, so she had been keeping her frustrations bottled up. And now there was this trustful kind stranger asking her about it, so she gave in.

“My boyfriend didn’t show up to our date. He has been acting so strange lately. He shows up late, he always has a different excuse and gets all nervous and defensive because he’s obviously lying, but most times he doesn’t even show up. Like today.” the exhaustion and defeat was evident on her tone and it broke his heart. “He was supposed to meet me today, so he could open up and tell me what’s going on in his life, but…”

“He let you down again.” he added in a sad tone. Y/N nodded, tears blurring her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I love him, I really do, but our relationship has become one-sided. I’m trying to save it, but it seems like he doesn’t care anymore.”

Fear crept into his mind. Was that it? Was it their end? Was she going to break up with him the next day? He wouldn’t blame her. Yet, he couldn’t help being selfish—he did not want them to break up.

“Maybe there is something going on in his life… something that he can’t tell you for your own good.” he said, and he knew he sounded stupid.

“What could be so bad that he can’t talk to me about it? We have always been honest with each other. He knows he can tell me anything, he knows that he’ll have my support no matter what. I just want him to talk to me. I don’t know what happened with our relationship, but there’s nothing I can do unless he talks to me.”

“Things are going to get better.” the superhero said, rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture.

Ethan had multiple opportunities to be honest with her, to explain why he had become so distant and yet he held his pride and told her she was exaggerating the whole situation. So, as much as she tried to be positive and believe Spider-man’s words, she was scared the story of them might be ending soon.

ETHAN REACHED THE TABLE WHERE THE GROUP WAS SITTING AT and eyed the two empty spots left. One was next to Chad, who was talking animatedly with Tara and Mindy, and the other one was beside Y/N. His spot had always been the one next to hers, but with their current complications and not knowing exactly in which page they were at, he didn’t know what to do. Seeing the way she was nervously pulling at her clothes and tried to look busy, he ended up choosing the first option.

Even though she was trying hard to avoid looking at him, his presence was overwhelming and it took all of her strength to hold back from peaking a glance at his gorgeous smile and perfect curls. She was dying to know if the situation was killing him as much as it was killing her.

Little did she know the boy was losing his mind. The anguish was too much, so many thoughts were running through his mind. He was dying to let her know what was going on, but he was scared it was going to put her in danger. He would rather have her be angry at him than her getting hurt because of him. The wiser thing would be to let her go, to free her from the chaos that came with being involved with a superhero, but he the selfish part of him couldn’t break things up—Ethan loved her too much to give her up.

He needed to come up with a decision. This contest of who could act like they cared less needed to end and he could not tolerate the loud silence between them anymore. “Do you think we could talk tonight?”

“If you have the decency to show up.” she shrugged.

Her armour was up, and it was understandable. “I will. I’ll meet you at your apartment after Econ?”

“Okay.” Y/N nodded. “I’m serious, Ethan. Show up. This is your last chance.”

“I won’t let you down again, Y/N/N. I promise.”

ETHAN DIDN'T KNOW IF THE AREA WHERE Y/N WORKED IN WAS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS OR IF HE JUST HAD BAD LUCK, but every time he was near, something happened that forced him to step in. Thankfully, this time it was an inexperienced thief he easily managed to bring down but his wound wasn't fully healed yet so he was in a bit of pain after the fight. But the important thing was that he made it to Y/N's house.

The girl was unable to hide her relief when she opened the door, but it soon turned into worry. "Ethan, what the hell happened? You're bleeding!"

The curly-haired boy looked down to find a scarlet stain on his blue polo shirt. The wound on his abdomen must have opened while he was stopping the thief, and he didn't even noticed because of the adrenaline. "Um, it's nothing, I-"

"Sit down." she ordered right before leaving to grab the first-aid kit. When she lifted his shirt up, she frowned.

"What is it?" Ethan asked worriedly.

"Ethan, when did this happen?"

"Um, I was robbed while making my way here." the lie slipped off his tongue in an instant.

"You keep lying to me." she let out a humourless laugh. "This has been stitched before, Ethan."

He sighed, thinking of another excuse. "Okay, fine. It's not new. I fell and landed on something sharp, and it cut my stomach."

"Okay, now I'm not only angry because you lied to me twice in the past sixty seconds, but also because you think I'm stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid."

"If you believe I'd buy that shitty excuse, then yes, I think you think I'm stupid." she spat. "Tell me the truth. Right now, Ethan."

Silence embraced the room. As Y/N worked on the wound, Ethan tried to find the words to explain. "I don't know where to start."

"Let's start by telling me how did you get this."

"A thief did it to me." he said, and ignoring his girlfriend's warning glance, he continued, "but he wasn't robbing me. He was stealing from an old woman and I stepped in. He cut me while I was distracted."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as they scrutinised his face, trying to spot any sign that told her he was lying. She find none. "You fought them?" she asked in disbelief, and Ethan nodded. "That's... that's really brave. And stupid."

"It's my job." he blurted out, making her look at him in confusion. "Well, it's not a job job, because I don't get paid. Not that I'd do it for money, even though I need it-"

"Eth!" she interrupted him. "I love it when you ramble, you're adorable, but could you please explain?"

"I missed you calling me Eth." he whispered, caressing her right cheek. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Eth. But we need to talk. Well, you need to talk. What is going on with you? Why are you so distant? Why do you keep missing our dates? What did you mean by 'It's my job'?"

"I'll tell you, but I need to warn you first. You were in danger before knowing this, but after I tell you... you are going to be an even bigger target. And you can't tell anyone, okay? No one knows, and no one has to know."

"Okay, just spit it out, Ethan."

"I'm Spider-man."

It was as if their surroundings had frozen, and minutes felt like hours. Y/N sat on the couch, dumbfounded, and Ethan's leg bounced as he bit his nails.

Meanwhile, Y/N's brain worked at a fast pace, trying to connect the dots. Now, in hindsight, everything made sense. His bruises, his wounds, why he was always in high alert, why his walls were up, his grades dropping, his tardiness... he became the friendly neighborhood spiderman. The vigilante she had found bleeding the previous night.

"Hey! You used your secret identity to get information out of me, asshole!"

"That's all you have to say?!"

"I mean, no... but I don't really know what to say."

"You're not mad?"

"I don't think so. I really wish you would've told me, could've saved up lots of arguments, but I do understand why you didn't tell me. I'm glad you opened up, tho. I am really tired of missing you and not kissing you."

Ethan laughed. “I love you. I missed you like crazy, and I'm sorry for everything.” he hold her close to his chest and let himself relax for the first time in weeks. “By the way, you need to quit that job. I swear there’s a robbery every five fucking minutes.”

“Have you been following me?” she arched her eyebrow.

“Keeping an eye on you.” he corrected. “I can’t let anything happen to my girl, and like I said, it’s a dangerous area.”

Y/N laughed and kissed his lips tenderly “I love you, my little stalker. Don’t keep secrets from me ever again.”

“Never. I promise. We’re a team.”

[misguidedasgardian]

The Winter Sun (21)

21. The dangerous Road

MASTERLIST

Summary: War came at a heavy price

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, death of a character, war and all that comes with it, mentions of pedicide (killing of a baby), threats of non-con, technically adultery, might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: Like I said, the pace is picking hehe, and it will get dark for a couple of chapters. SO SORRY FOR THIS LOVES

“I bled once”, you whispered to the maester, “but the symptoms hadn't stopped, I thought to be with child”

“after the birth of a child it could be tricky”, he warned with a warm smile, “forgive me my lady but I must check you out” 

It was an uncomfortable afternoon with the maester, but afterwards, you left his tower to search for Sara

The test that he had made you do was going to take time to… “develop”, so you had a couple of days before receiving any news 

Sara, and you, had started a quick net of communication throughout the North, you had contact with White Harbor, with the Lady Mara, and the Lady Bolton from the Dreadfort, all the way up to the Bear Island, even down at Widow’s watch, you exchanged ravens regularly, you even created, with Cregan, the “Dragon watchers”, dragons were faster than ravens, but you had placed outposts with huge beacons of fire that were to be lit as soon as they see or hear them, so as soon as it is lit, the next one will light them also, creating a line of fire to be seen miles away in Winterfell

You were nervous, the people were nervous, you had yet to receive news of Cregan, but if you think about it more carefully, it could be dangerous for him to be writing where they are and where theta e going, letters can be easily intercepted, an the last months you realized people who believe a man should have priority to ascend the Iron Throne over a woman is bigger than you expected.

You could have Aegon royalists within Winterfell without even knowing 

When you found Sara, you gasped

She was a mess, clutching to her own chest, heaving and crying by the window in her room

“Sara!”. you called for her name, running to her, hugging her, “what happened?”

“I don’t know!”, she managed to whine, “I saw something”

“What did you see? What happened? are you alright?”, you were so confused, she was distraught

She weeped in your arms, and you hugged her to comfort her, you directed her to sit on the bed, and you cuddled her. She eventually calmed, but she still shook with the sobs

“I don’t know what happened”, she whispered, “one minute I was here, and another…I was somewhere else”

“What do you mean?”, you asked her softly

“That somehow, I was somewhere else, I was something else”, you believed in magic, you believed in people who could dream about things that were going to happen, everyone in your family knew the tale of Daenys the dreamer and how her visions saved the Targaryens from The Doom. Once you were hiding from the boys with Helaena, and she couldn’t stop whispering about stars in the middle of the day, you didn’t listen and when the boys found you you ran from them, failing to see the edge of a wooden furniture and banging your head against it, you passed for several minutes in which you could see silvery stars under your eyelids 

But this was something else

In the book Cregan had lent you, you had read about wildlings north of the wall that could take the body of animals and use them as their own… but it was only a tale, wasn’t it?

“I was in the skies”, she continued, “I was flying, I was big, I saw Dragonstone”

“Dragonstone?”, you asked

“I think it was, I- I had never seen it”, she explain, still catching her breath, “it was big and dark, seemed like it was built front he rock itself, and… had many dragons sculptures all over”, that was a fair description of the castle of your family

“What else did you see?”, you asked

“I took flight towards the west”, she said shakily, “over the seas until I could see a castle, surrounded by a powerful wall, and a small village, under the protection of another wall”, she said, she was with you, but her eyes were seeing something outside of the room, they were lost in her memories, “the castle was made of gray rock with reddened tiles in their towers”, you paled then, “a banner was hanging from the biggest one, two black wings over a white banner, in front of a checkered black and gray field”

“House Staunton”, you whispered, “a house front he crownlands, loyal to Rhaenyra”

“They were under siege, and I was going to help them, but then…”

“Sara…”, your heart was pounding in your chest

“Two huge beasts, Vhagar, and another golden dragon flew down upon me, jaws open, a breath of fire and I…”, her eyes filled with tears again and she wept in your arms, “I could smell the burnt flesh, and the reek of death!”, she weeped again, and you held her against you

“Shhh, it’s alright”, you whispered, “it is alright”

But it was not

You could feel it 

And you were made certain the very next day

“See that he is bathed gently”, you said to the main maid that took care of RIckon, “Even though he likes the heat, just like a little dragon”you giggled, playing with his feet, “I would bathe him myself but I have a meeting with the master at arms”

“Yes My lady”, she said gently, you liked her, she was sweet and cared for RIckon as he was her own, she took him gently and accommodate him in her arms

“Who is this handsome boy that needs a bath?”, she cooed, “let’s take a bath and let mommy focus on her meeting”, she said as she walked away

You smiled as you saw her leave the rooms, but were called by a pup, Rickon’s pup as he barked at you playfully, moving her triangular tail

“Don’t believe you are free of a bath!”, you chided playfully, and he barked again but ran to hide from you with a whimper. 

You giggled

They were really clever animals Direwolves 

But as you were preparing to leave your rooms to your meeting, there was a knock on the door

“Yes?”, you asked cheerfully, as you were the Lady of Winterfell, and you needed to show yourself strong, but the face the maester had, it immediately told you something was wrong

Very wrong

“I have letter for you, My Lady”, he said, he sounded apologetic

“What is it?”, you whispered

“One if from Dragonstone, but the other… is it from Harrenhal, from Aemond Targaryen”

You palet

you received the two small scrolls, your hand already trembling, you didn’t know which one to open first, you decided, that the one from Dragonstone

It surprised you to see it was from Rhaena, you had never had a personal relationship with her, but still you read the few lines she wrote

And as you did you whimpered, bitter tears falling from your eyes

Rhaenys was dead

Her and Melys had been burnt by Aemond and Aegon in both their dragons

Just like Sara described

Rhaena goes on saying  she wanted you to hear it from her, because she knew how dear you were to her grandmother and vice-versa

“No, no, no please”, you cried, clutching your chest, falling to your knees

“My Lady!”, the maester fell to the floor on his knees beside you, clutching you tightly, “Are alright?” he placed his hand on your forehead 

“No!”, you whined, you let out a scream of pain as you felt your heart was ripped from your chest. Sara showed up, taking the place of the maester by your side, grabbing you tightly 

“I will bring you a special tea, to calm your nerves”, he left the room

“She is gone, Aemond killed her”, you whined, grabbing into Sara, “my aunt is gone”

“I’m so sorry”, she whined, “I should have seen it sooner”

“It’s not your fault”, you whispered, your voice as broken as your spirit. You then looked at the other scroll that had fallen by your skirts, this had to mean something… something else…

You couldn’t resist, you couldn’t

You opened it

What you found there didn’t surprise you, there were threats, a warning, and a demand

You whined at the sight of his poisonous words 

But now… you jumped from the grief, straight to the anger

It was him!

The source of all your pains, all your traumas, it was him, for taking your baby nephew, and now your dear aunt

It was him

And you were the only one who could stop him

Sara looked at you, petrified and scared of what she found in your eyes

“No”, she whispered, when you looked straight ahead, tears were no longer falling from your eyes, all it was there was fire, and bloodthirst, “whatever you think you need to do…”

“I have to”, you answered barely, standing from the floor, your hands made fists

“No! you need to stay here!”, she cried, “please!”

“I am the only one who can stop him, stop this”, she took the scroll from your hand and read it, and she whimpered

“Its a trap!”, she said

But you were already on your feet, grabbing your riding gear, the thickest pants you could find and the upper part to go with it

“Please! think of Cregan! of Rickon!”, she insisted 

“Is for them I’m doing this”, you said, all emotion in your voice disappeared

“Please! they can fight him”, she insisted

“I can get close to him and kill him, I’m the only one who can”

“But at what price?”, she asked

“the debt is high already”, she whispered, “and it will only take me”

“please!”, you turned to look at Sara

“Tell Cregan I’m sorry”, you whined, tears falling down your cheeks again

“You tell him yourself!”, she insisted

“Take care of my son”, you cried, “please love him as your own”

“You will!”, she said, now desperate, “you will love him, and see him grow!”

“I did the best I could for the North, I’m sorry if it wasn't enough”, you cried

“It was! but is not over!”, she grabbed your arms, “please!”

“I’m the only one that can stop him”, you insisted, “I can kill him”, she knew there was no convincing you, she can see it in your eyes

“Please”

“No one else is going to die for me”, your voice again a flat line, “Cregan will be spared, and the crown will belong to Rhaenyra”

“But please let’s wait until we can reach Cregan”

“You know what his answer is going to be”, you said, but you realized Sara was not going to let you leave, so instead, you agreed to wait

Only to sneak out in the middle of the night, after telling the nannies to take RIckon for the night claiming you needed to be alone, they took him without question.

You couldn’t dare to see Rickon for one last time, if you did, you would second guess your decision and you couldn’t

This was more important than yourself

This was about the future of the seven Kingdoms and the future of your family and everyone you loved

This was bigger

Vhaelar was waiting for you outside the Winterfell gates, she roared into the night air but at this point you didn’t care if everyone listened, you will be in the air by the time they think they can do something to stop you

So you climbed on top of your dragon, Aemond’s words burning inside your brain

“I killed Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest, it wasn’t personal, but I know your husband is marching down with his army, you have three days to come to Harrenhal, if you do not, I will burn them alive, and then I will ride North and take you anyways. Spare the Starks, give yourself to me”

You had to answer his call

It was true, you can come to him willingly, you had a dragon, you could hide a blade in your undergarments, and after, you could slay him in his sleep or something, anything, but when he said it was the end of house Stark, it meant your baby as well, pedicide is not something you would put past Aemond. You knew he was capable and able to do it

For Rickon

For Cregan

And for Sara and the North

Yourself was a small price to pay

The night was long but you didn’t plan to stop as Vhaelar flew decisively under you

You believed you had until morning until Winterfell wakes up and sends a raven to Cregan, if you manage to fly over them it will be too late also

In the air, atop your dragon, nothing could stop you

Unless perhaps, another dragon

All night, all the way south, your mind was blank, there was only grief, pain, and rage.

You did not deemed yourself as vengeful person, and yet, you wanted it, desire it, you felt a fire growing within you, that wanted to burn everything in your path

You felt such heat within you you barely felt the still cold air that hit your face in the heights, and before you even knew it, the sun was shining in the horizon.

You felt no hunger, no tiredness, no nothing

Only the rage

It was Midday when you saw the unmistakable burnt towers of Harrenhal

Your dragon growled, like she was in pain, feeling your anger

You led her to descend upon the castle with a velocity that made your stomach drop, but you didn’t care about that, you cared about vengeance

But you were in a close distance, you felt the fire burning within you, one command and you could burn Harrenhal and the Green forces within them, Aemond probably was there, inside 

“Dra-!”

As you were going to give the order, you were interrupted by a low growl. Vhagar appeared from nowhere, pushing your dragon and you in the air

Vhaelar whined as she struggled to keep in the air and you knew then and there, that against the monstrous Vhagar, you could do nothing. Even if your dragons was one of the largest 

The Queen of dragons growled in greeting and you could feel Vhaelar’s nervousness as your own.

Or perhaps you were your own

Some people would say that you are more lamb than dragon, because of your mother’s house

But they were wrong

You were a dragon he awakened 

You landed heavily by the gates, you could see the restlessness of the soldiers in you and your dragon’s presence. You abandoned the want to burn everything, against Vhagar you couldn’t win. you had to be smart about this, she had the upper hand, the surprise factor was ruined 

“WHITE DRAGON!”, they chanted all over the walls, but you didn’t attacked them

Perhaps that is what you should do.

Burn them all

But the retaliation from King’s landing and the Greens could be worse

Aemond appeared by your side, he did not hide his smile, his happiness of seeing you there. 

Bold, you assumed, as you were near your dragon, you could burn him, here and now

The temptation was great

“You came”, he greeted, “good girl”

“I came to the call of your insanity”, you growled, he came to you, quick on his feet, you took a step backwards, still he grabbed you by the back of your neck

Vhaelar growled, dangerously, but VHagr was there, right by her side, she grabbed your dragon by the neck, furiously, dangerously

“NO!”, you screamed

Vhaelar whined in agony, and Vhagar released her, it was only a warning, but her black blood flowed profusely from the injury in her neck

“NO!”, you wanted to go to her, but Aemond held on to you tight

“If you don’t want me to finish her off, you will come with me”, he had to drag you towards the castle, as you could hear her whines of agony as her pain as if was your own

He dragged you through the halls, the stench of dead was clinging into you by every forceful step, and you whined under Aemond’s brutal hold

He threw you into a room. It held no windows, no nothing, but it was furnished with the very best he could find in his proximity, you realized. A luxurious big bed, with small tales on each side, many candles all over the room to light it up since it had no windows, and a table with chairs on one corners, tapestries on the floor and hanging from the walls to give it a more comfortable feel to it, but it didn’t hide what it was, it was a prison, only made for you

“A room for a princess”, he said mockingly, closing the door behind him, “you will stay here”

“I did as you asked”, you said, trying to regain control, “I came, I did as you said, promise me you will kill no one else”, you whined, “please”, he only smirked

“I promise I will no seek the death of anyone else”, he pleaded with a hand on his chest and another raised, but all seemed like a mockery, “I only wanted you, it is good that you finally saw this”

“I don’t understand”, you whined, “why me? after everything”

“That is not for you to know, now put on the dress I selected for you”, he said, taking your shoulders and directing you to look upon the bed, where a very revealing dark green dress was waiting for you. “You are to please me, since you are married, since you didn’t want to marry me, you will be nothing else, but my whore”

A single tear fell down your cheek as you contemplated what you willingly let your life turn into. 

@severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker 

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @​​mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel 

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog

@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @​​trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul @aelora-a @a-mexican-waffle @ateliefloresdaprimavera @alexa4040 @lrboyd @anditsmywholeheart  @weaselyssss  @scarlettqueen190 @deeeeexx @cloudroomblog @dreaming-of-the-reality

[altocat]

As much as I do love and support Lucretia's dubious science wrongs, I think it's important to remember everyone on the Jenova Project (sans Hojo) Really did believe that Jenova was a Cetra. To Lucretia her baby, if everything went correctly, would be no different from a human aside from having the ability to speak with the Planet and help find the "promised land".

Doing so would be the greatest feat in science, it would abate an inevitable energy crisis and make the entire world a better place, basically the ultimate repentance for wrong she felt she committed to Grimoire. She did not know she was putting evil alien genes into her baby, and it was Hojo's abusive ass who kept that information from her and everyone else. Her tragedy is more in the fact she was conned than her setting out to do evil science from go.

I would definitely argue that Gast is way worse than Lucrecia. From what I understand, he eventually found OUT that Jenova wasn't a Cetra and rather than take responsibility for his actions, he dumped Sephiroth in order to pursue something else, leaving him at the mercy of Hojo. I understand this is all offscreen subtext that they could easily retcon it in Part 3, but yeah. Lucrecia still did nothing wrong compared to Gast.

I frame Lucrecia's logic as her committing to the Jenova Project as a way to make up for what happened with Grimoire, as you said above. I believe she genuinely thought this was a redemption of sorts, and that she'd be permitted to be involved in Sephiroth's upbringing. There's nothing in her speech or motives that suggests that she would have EVER sanctioned Sephiroth becoming a weapon. I think that's probably why Hojo stole Sephiroth from her at the first opportunity. Lucrecia probably thought she was birthing some sort of child-savior that she could groom and nurture into becoming a protector of the planet, a Cetra that could revolutionize the foundations of the world. Her shock and horror at Sephiroth being taken AWAY from her suggests that she WANTED him in her life, and that she recognized that giving him over to Hojo was a bad thing.

I'd also like to point out that (also unlike Gast), Lucrecia left because there was no rational way for her to reach Sephiroth. Having failed to save Vincent, she likely reasoned that she was completely powerless in going up against a major organization like Shinra. If she can't even rescue her baby from Hojo, how could she possibly go up against the very SYMBOL of fascist capitalism? The very same organization that starts WARS with ARMIES of soldiers at its disposal? Sephiroth would have been heavily guarded. And Hojo could just as easily threaten his life if Lucrecia got any fancy ideas. Whereas Gast fled for his own selfish pursuits, Lucrecia fled out of despair and complete futility, looking to PUNISH herself any way that her body would allow in penance for her sins. She wanted her son. But she couldn't have him. It was one more life she couldn't save. And since she couldn't die on her own terms, she sought whatever means necessary to isolate herself from the rest of the world, to ensure that she couldn't do any more damage.

Do I think Lucrecia would have been a good mother to Sephiroth? No, probably not. I think she would have loved him, and would have done her best to be a good mother to him. But I also think her demons would have caught up with her and she would not always be the most stable presence to be around. I think having her in his life would have been infinitely healthier for Sephiroth than the canon alternative. But that doesn't mean that Lucrecia would be the ideal mother he fantasizes about.

I just think that Lucrecia is NOT the unholy satanic abomination that "fans" label her to be. She's a tragic character caught in a downward spiral. With no idea how to claw her way out. She's done terrible things, but not out of malice or the desire to cause harm to others. She wants to fix her mistakes. But she doesn't know how. And so she punishes herself over and over and over again, unintentionally making the situation worse. It's honestly kind of depressing. I don't think she needs to be a perfect, flawless, angelic character. But she's far from the worst offender in the Jenova Project.

[illuminatedquill]

The Measure

A Sabine Wren Analysis

Natasha Liu Bordizzo, the actress for Sabine Wren, recently gave an interview discussing Sabine’s narrative arc towards becoming a Jedi (snippets of which can be found here).

I’m not going to discuss the argument whether Sabine should or shouldn’t be a Jedi although, speaking for myself, I’m absolutely for it even though, yes, I’m frustrated as to not knowing the reason why she wants to be one. What I am discussing in this post is the interesting commentary that Natasha provides on Sabine’s battle with the bandits she encounters while on Peridea:

"During the interview, Bordizzo also said the fight with the bandits was a key moment because Sabine started out trying to fight like she always did, and she almost lost. It wasn't until after she drew her lightsaber and had to try to focus on the person she wanted to become that she was able to make a connection. This is not only a great metaphor for life, but it is also true to Sabine's character and honors her history. After all, learning to use the Force through battle is such a Mandalorian way to grow in the Force."

This is a level of nuance that I hadn't noticed before in the fight scenes with Sabine so, naturally, I had to go back and re-watch all of them to see if the narrative arc rings true.

And it does. There's a deeper context to those scenes now that I'd like to analyze and what that means for Sabine's ongoing narrative arc for her character, not only in this season but, potentially, in the next one. For Sabine, it isn't so much the ongoing struggle with touching the Force that is driving her inner conflict - it's the reconciliation between the two natures within her: the inherent Mandalorian nature she was raised on and the newly emerging Jedi nature that Ahsoka is trying to instill.

Let's go to the first one in Ahsoka 1x01, where Sabine duels against Shin.

Sabine's first big fight in the Ahsoka series sees her do something strange: she doesn't pick up her Mandalorian armor or blasters. It's a far cry from the Sabine we know in Rebels who wouldn't be caught dead without her usual armament, especially since it would be specifically useful in a duel like this against a lightsaber wielder.

Sabine grabs her lightsaber first. This is important to note. She effectively eschews her Mandalorian upbringing in favor of the Jedi training, believing it to be the best choice in this situation.

It's a definite sign that things are different for her this time around; Sabine is trying something new. The recent visit from Ahsoka and the promise of finally being able to find her old friend, Ezra Bridger, has reignited a desire within her - to be something else.

To be something more. The classic call to adventure that every hero feels before going on their journey.

But, as we all know now, this battle doesn't end well for Sabine. Shin is well-trained and stronger in her capabilities than she is. Sabine is left on the cusp of death, saved only by the intervention of her master, Ahsoka Tano. It puts quite the dent in Sabine's confidence and she struggles to make up for it in the battles to follow. Matters aren't helped by Ahsoka, either, who continues to show a reticence in furthering her training.

It's Huyang who breaks through Sabine's excuses for why she continues to fail with this simple line:

Huyang: The only time you are wasting is your own.

With Ezra's life on the line, Sabine has to decide, once and for all, who she wants to be. There's no more time to waste, no more excuses to be had. She accepts the lightsaber back, but her confidence is still shaken from her duel with Shin.

So, she falls back on old ways. She finds her Mandalorian armor and equipment and wears it once again.

Her reunion with Ahsoka later on is the first time we see the former Jedi Knight express something else other than disappointment with her former Padawan. Which connects to how Ahsoka sees Sabine and her issues, as revealed later on in Ahsoka 1x06 during a conversation with Huyang:

Ahsoka: I don't need Sabine to be a Jedi. I need her to be herself.

Sabine has always been an interesting character because she is simultaneously focused and driven, yet fractured, unsure of herself and her innermost feelings. It's an aspect of her character that was shown during Rebels - especially in the standout Trials of the Darksaber episode - but in Ahsoka we really see her issues stand out in stark relief. Struggling with her training as a Jedi, Sabine's flaws become detrimental to any further progress. This wasn't an issue during her time with the Ghost crew since they operated as a team, with each member covering for the other's weaknesses. But now she only has herself and Ahsoka to rely on, with the latter still not finding it easy to trust her.

Ahsoka hones in on Sabine's true problem: she feels as though Sabine is trying to be something she's not. Not in the sense that Ahsoka doesn't believe that Sabine shouldn't be a Jedi - rather that Sabine is trying to follow in what she perceives to be how a Jedi should fight and act (presumably based upon her experiences fighting alongside Kanan and Ezra), which clashes against her Mandalorian nature.

To be a Jedi is to be in tune with your feelings and yourself. It's not necessarily following some Code but in understanding your place in the wider universe and how you can best contribute to it. And that is something Sabine seems to be searching for during this post-war period: her sense of purpose, her sense of self that goes beyond what she knows. It heavily implies to me that Sabine is dissatisfied with how she currently is and seeks to attain the best possible version of herself.

The problem, as pointed out succinctly by Ahsoka, is Sabine's trying to do that in the wrong way. She's cherry picking parts of herself and the Jedi path, trying to see what works and what doesn't. What Sabine needs to do is embrace all of herself, even the parts she doesn't particularly like.

She needs to be herself. All of herself.

Even with reaffirming her Mandalorian identity and answering the call to adventure, Sabine continues to grapple with balancing her Mandalorian side with the Jedi side. As we reach the climatic events of Ahsoka 1x04, we see that struggle continue with her second duel with Shin - only this time, it's better balanced. Her Mandalorian armor and weapons make up for the gap in skills between the two combatants and Sabine fights the mercenary to a draw this time.

This is pure speculation on my part but it's not a stretch that Ahsoka had always been aware of Sabine's deep feelings towards Ezra (regardless of whether or not you think they're romantic, what Sabine feels towards him is still substantial considering what she did to find him). She approaches Sabine the wrong way in trying to get across how dire the situation is, suggesting that if the outcome is fixed then the best they can do is destroy the map, thus stranding Thrawn - and Ezra - in another galaxy, permanently.

Even though Ahsoka understands Sabine's issues and how she's struggling to find herself in the midst of this new path, the former Jedi Knight doesn't see how this approach is wrong. In not counseling and guiding Sabine through setting aside her personal feelings for Ezra, it made her vulnerable to them. It's a mistake long in the making since she found out Vader's true identity; the Jedi do not forbid emotions or feelings for others - they only forbid the attachments that come with them. Sabine's feelings towards Ezra should have been viewed as a strength, not a weakness.

It's an integral part of being herself, just like Ahsoka needs her to be. But she didn't figure that out until it was too late. Sabine handed over the map to Baylon, and the galaxy's future spun onto darker paths. She's arguably at her lowest point, not only within the series narrative but also her life. And Sabine knows it.

So, what changes for Sabine? How does she come to reconcile the two conflicting natures within her and become fully open to the Force by the series end?

She reunites with Ezra.

I've written before how finding Ezra changes many things for Sabine; how it restores her in so many ways that are hugely beneficial to herself and the path she now walks. He's a part of her that was missing for so long and having him back, alive and well, brings her not only back to her old self but also gives her the confidence and determination to truly step forward in her Jedi training.

There's a lot of expectations that have always been heaped upon Sabine; whether through her family, Clan Wren, or via Ahsoka, her Jedi Master. All of them had a specific version of her that they wanted to see realized. But only one person has ever seen and accepted Sabine for who she truly is, with no expectations placed upon her in return.

Ezra Bridger.

Rewind to the Battle of Lothal's conclusion; Ezra and Thrawn disappearing into a galaxy far, far away. Sabine and Hera watching his final farewell message to him, listening to what he's asking but not really understanding until later. And then Sabine, with Ezra's private message to her and her alone, realizing what he is truly asking: to find and bring him home.

Reuniting with Ezra in the present, I suspect, helped Sabine remember who she is and allows her to finally embrace the final missing part of herself, literally. Because Ezra Bridger did not ask Sabine Wren the Jedi to come find him. He had no way of knowing the path she would undertake in his absence.

No, Ezra Bridger trusted above all else, Sabine Wren - his closest friend and partner. He asked her to do the impossible, just as she was. He wouldn't have asked her to become a Jedi on his behalf to find him. He didn't need her to have Force powers or know how to properly wield a lightsaber.

He just needed Sabine to be herself and nothing else. That's who he trusted.

And that's who came to find him. Sabine Wren, his friend and partner - as herself.

When Shin and her bandits come to strike at the reunited pair, this growth in Sabine is immediately evident; she's much more confident in this fight, not struggling with the bandits at all in contrast to her first encounter with them. She smoothly switches from her blasters to the lightsaber when the situation demands it.

And then there's this fun scene:

Now that's a Mandalorian Jedi, if I've ever seen one.

The combination of Ezra's Force pull along with Sabine's use of the flamethrower to fend off Shin fully shows how she's combining both the Jedi and Mandalorian natures within her. They're no longer clashing - they're working in tandem to give her an edge in the fight. And she doesn't even have the Force yet.

The past and the future come to a head when Ahsoka arrives, at last. With her renewed faith in herself and in her Padawan, Sabine is finally given the final boost she needs to achieve what was previously thought impossible:

Ezra Bridger and Ahsoka Tano are, arguably, the two most important people in her life at this moment, much like how Kanan and Sabine were to Ezra during Rebels. Both represent different sides of her identity: Ezra, knowing her as the Mandalorian, and Ahsoka, knowing her as the Jedi padawan. When they're brought together and reaffirm their faith in her - Ezra's never wavering during his exile and Ahsoka renewing hers - Sabine can genuinely be herself. And that is what she needed the most to continue with her journey.

Sabine doesn't need to focus on being a successful Jedi or a Mandalorian. That's not the point of her journey. It never was.

She just needs to succeed at being herself. And with Ezra and Ahsoka having faith in her (you know Ezra would be understanding of what she did), then Sabine is more than ready to face the trials ahead and become the best possible version of herself; not strictly Mandalorian or Jedi.

Just as Sabine Wren, whoever she decides that is.

"Everyone fails at who they're supposed to be. A measure of a person, of a hero, is how well they succeed at being who they are." - Frigga, Avengers: Endgame

[in1-nutshell]

And I also wanted to see of Maxima being a con (in the same universe as Ophelia btw if you remember!)

I’ll probably request more, but like usual ill request just two per open request

Almost forgot about writing that one for the summaries!

Here it is now!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima turns into a Con

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Maxima had been quiet for the past few days.

Ever since her brief encounter with Megatron and Ophelia…

She knew she needed to come up with an answer or some sort of plan.

Maxima knew what would happen if she betrayed the Autobots.

If she betrayed Optimus…

But who then was going to save Opehlia?

Megatron was going to terminate her the next battle if she didn’t join his ranks.

All she needed to do was shoot someone and that would guarantee Ophelia’ safety.

The decision needed to be made fast, the others were starting to notice the change.

Miko going up to Maxima: “Hey you wanna go dune bashing?” Maxima looks down at Miko: “Not today Miko.” Miko pats her pede: “You okay Maxima? You’ve been acting a bit weird lately. You sick? Wait can you guys get sick?” Jack: “Who’s sick?” Raf: “Someone’s sick?” Maxima: “No one is sick. Its just… I have a lot of things going up in the old helm. We can go dune bashing another day, okay?” Miko and the others seem satisfied with the answer and leave her alone. Maxima sighs and goes to return to her habsuite, but a servo stops her. It was Optimus. Optimus: “Maxima, is everything all right?” Maxima gives him a tired smile: “Not so much, but I’m handling it.” Optimus: “If you need help Maxima, do not be afraid to ask for assistance from me or the others.” Maxima stomps down the little cry in her throat: “Understood… and thank you.” Maxima slips through the Prime’s servos and quietly enters her room. Optimus stays in the same place for a bit before Ratchet walks over. Ratchet: “Something’s going on with her Optimus.” Optimus: “Agreed old friend.” Ratchet: “Did she tell you anything?” Optimus: " Nothing that would serve of use. But I am sure she will come to us if the problem does prove to be much.” Ratchet mumbles a bit: “Let’s hope so.” Optimus nods to this as well.

Finally, the day came.

Maxima took an extra hour before the mission to make sure her fail safe plans in the base had been set up.

Hopefully someone would snoop around and see the recordings.

She said her goodbyes to the children and gave a quick hug to Ratchet and ran into the groundbridge.

As expected, the ‘ambush’ was there waiting for them.

Maxima stayed on the defense until Megatron arrived.

She stopped her movements and stared at the warlord from across the field.

Maxima activated her blasters, shakingly.

Tears began pooling around her optics.

She knew who was behind her.

She knew what this would do to the team.

She knew what this would do to her.

… But who knows what Megatron would do to Ophelia if she didn’t do it.

Without taking her teary gaze from Megatron, Maxima fires one blast.

…

…

… straight into Optimus Prime’s chassis.

The entire battlefield went quiet seeing the mighty Prime fall from the blast. Maxima can’t hear anything other than the white noise in her audials. She can’t hear her teammates calling to her. She barely felt Megatron dragging her to the groundbridge. Before she knew it, the colors of the Nemesis filled her vision. Megatron clamps her shoulders wearing a proud smile. Something she hadn’t seen since she was a sparkling. Megatron: “My fellow Decepticons! What you have just witnessed was the death of an Autobot and the rise of a Decepticon. Maxima is now one of us.” Maxima feels the waterworks slowly coming. Megatron guides Maxima to a room. Maxima: “Where are we?” Megatron: “Your new shared quarters.” He opens the door. Megatron: “As promised, no harm done.” Ophelia gasps seeing Maxima at the doorframe. Megatron gives her another pat on the shoulder: “For future reference, I am the only one who can kill Optimus Prime… welcome to your new home my child.” SLAM! The door closes as Maxima falls to her knees. Ophelia runs over to her. Ophelia: “What are you doing here!? What did—” Maxima pulls her close and starts sobbing: “Y-you’re alive! Oh t-thank the Prime’s you’re- you’re okay!” Ophelia starts crying too and hugs back. Ophelia: “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Maxima just hugs tighter as a new wave of tears arrives. Only time would tell what would happen to the two now. But at least they were safe… for the time being at least…

[thymo-leonta]

today on mëohen's terrible very bad day

tried to find out where to hashtag party from an NPC and instead poorly flirted his way into a cross country competition with said NPC

sends his employee niquessë to try and find out what the competition is because he uh. forgot to actually ask in his huff of accepting the challenge

niquessë tells him that it's going to be a cross country footrace but fails to tell him that the plan is to strand him after a one way race without any way home besides walking. too bad for duilin (the NPC) that his employees also hate him are are going to strand him as well

niquessë drops an invite to a rager which he finds

mëohen goes to the rager. the night before he is going to do a cross county footrace.

he fails his con save

he shows up at dawn hungover and tired af

he fails his first athletics roll

he barely passes his next con save

he makes it to the end but barely. his legs give out. duilin kind of tries to catch him but fails.

they have to walk back together

they get back. he goes to find niquessë because he wants to complain and eat and sleep for 5 years

he walks in on a court processing in front of the king and also his princess crush (idril) sweaty as hell and exhausted and is immediately asked to testify for his employee's good character

antar very pointedly introduces him

the only upside is that idril is psychically feeding him lines because she wants this to go in niquessë's favor (it does)

also he got to see antar be Uncomfortable when maedhros shows up. maedhros who antar certainly said they didn't know last session but maedhros certainly seems to know them!

[thaidakar-is-hot]

Kelsier Essay Part 2

With this in mind, let’s jump into the criteria necessary for one (In this case, Kelsier) to be diagnosed with ASPD. While Kelsier waits in the waiting room, rather annoyed, let’s overview his case file. I will be pulling The Final Empire (TFE), Secret History (SH), and Eleventh Metal (EM). To make things clearer, I am using the Arcanum Unbounded version of SH and EM.

Failing to Conform with Laws and Social Norms

“Yes, he pocketed the gemstones in the vault, but that was more out of pragmatism than anything else.” (SH)

“Individual must show a pattern of Failing to conform with laws and social norms.” This one is tricky, as we are speaking of a fictional character in a brutal society hell bent on slaughtering those like Kelsier. Him becoming a thief was his way of surviving. While a thief, he was known as trusting, fair, just, and great to work with. When speaking to Vin after saving her from Camon’s beating, he explains just what sort of thief and crew leader he is, which puzzles her for quite a few pages as she notices the level of trust he places in other people.

“…Well Dox and I, we’re scavengers too, we’re just a higher quality scavenger. We’re more well bred, you might say-or perhaps just more ambitious.” (Chapter 3, page 56, TFE). After Clubs leaves in a huff, Yeden exclaims that he has to be dealt with, and Kelsier shuts him down.

“You’re just going to let him go?” “…I don’t work that way, Yeden. I invited Clubs where I outlined a dangerous plan-one some people might even call stupid. I’m not going to have him assassinated because he decided it was too dangerous. If you do things like that, pretty soon nobody will come listen to your plans in the first place.” (chapter 4, page 80, TFE).

Clubs, upon his return, remarks he’s heard that Kelsier would never use emotional allomancy to sway someone to his side. “You’re a smoker Clubs. He couldn’t do much to you, not if you didn’t want him too.” “I don’t like Soothers…Men like that…well you can’t trust you aren’t being manipulated when they are around. Copper or no copper.” “I wouldn’t rely on something like that to get your loyalty.” “So I’ve heard.” (Chapter 5, page 87, TFE).

If we mark his thieving and conning as a pattern in this trope, we also have to mark it against Dockson, Hammond, Breeze, Vin, and Clubs, not to mention hundreds of other Skaa and half-skaa that are just trying to live. Thus, this particular criterion is being ignored due to the outstanding circumstances of the Final Empire and how it was run.

Deceitfulness for Profit or Pleasure

“And the third…well, that was Kelsier’s favorite. It involved a tongue coated with zinc. Instead of a knife it used confusion, and instead of prowling it worked in the open.” (SH)

As a con-artist and thief, Kelsier throughly enjoys his trade. He made it a mission in life to con his way to the top of the thieving world, becoming the most “Infamous crewleader in Luthadel” (Chapter 5, page 89, TFE). He loved terrifying the Ire out of their possessions and the orb of Investiture. The man enjoys his profession in life; he didn’t fall into it out of necessity or trick. He even states, in narration of his own in the Eleventh Metal, that when he Snapped as a Mistborn, he immediately gravitated towards Zinc and Brass, as they could “manipulate other people’s emotions.” (Eleventh Metal, page 159). “We’re thieves, gentlemen- and we’re extraordinarily good ones. We can rob the unrobbable and fool the unfoolable…” (Chapter 4, page 75, TFE). That being said, he doesn’t lie to his crewmembers. (Ghostblood’s are a bit different, and I’ll get to that later.) He is upfront and honest with his crew members, never expecting them to go into something without all the information. He has never used emotional allomancy to manipulate his friends. “Despite what Breeze says, it’s bad manners to use emotional Allomancy on your friends.” (Chapter 11, page 212, TFE).

His dealings with the Ghostbloods get a little trickier. I do not think lying to them about having powers has anything to do with profit or pleasure, more, it has to do with his position and what he is. A little mystery aids his position, and I’m sure those closest to him know quite well he lacks powers. 

To sum it up, Kelsier does meet this criterion. He enjoys the con, lives for it.

Impulsivity with a Failure to Plan Ahead

“Oh hell,” Kelsier said. “There’s actually a God?”“Yes.”Kelsier decked him. (SH) Impulsiveness, in regards to ASPD, is described as someone who is not only impulsive, but also fails to plan ahead. To quote the exact text. “Impulsivity with a failure to plan ahead.” They lack any way of preparing for large tasks or what they are going to do in the future. In regards to Kelsier, he can certainly be impulsive. Heat of the moment decisions is one of his major strengths, along with one of his major flaws. He’s fond of brash decisions against those he deems slighted him or others (Punching Leras/Ruin in Secret History.) He will jump headlong into danger in order to save those in helpless situations. (Running to save the army, only to be stopped by Vin.) His foray into Kredik Shaw could be called impulsive, though I read it as him believing that since he didn’t plan at all, there was no way he could be betrayed, as had happened last time. Him taking Vin was certainly a foolish choice, though I wouldn’t call it impulsive.

Speaking of his impulsiveness, other characters are aware of it as well. Vin, inspecting the crates that will be shipped to the caves, says that “Even the new, more responsible Kelsier was an impulsive man.” upon learning he planned to go to the caves with Yeden to inspect the army. (Chapter 20, page 331, TFE).

His slaughter of the noblemen and women in the town of Longsfellow after they murdered a young girl could be seen as impulsive. He did it without regard for their plan,  which angered Mare.

That being said, Kelsier does not fit this criteria, despite being an impulsive man, as he does not fail to plan ahead. All of Kelsier’s life as a thief was nothing but planning; job after job, all planned out and discussed with his friends/crewmates.

“It was an unfamiliar experience for him. [faltering/indecision] He’d always had a plan, before. Plans upon plans…” (Eleventh Metal, page 152).

“…all those plans, all of those heists, all of his grand visions.” (Eleventh Metal, page 164).

Beginning in Eleventh Metal, Kelsier forms his plan that we see enacted in The Final Empire. Specifically, this line. “Nobody fights, he thought, Nobody thinks they can fight. But they’re wrong. We can fight…I can fight.” (Eleventh Metal, page 165). “A plan began to bud, a plan he barely dared consider for its audacity. Vengeance. And more.” (Eleventh Metal, Page 169).

This plan carries us into the main narrative of The Final Empire. Every major event, barring a few hiccups, is fully orchestrated by Kelsier. He planned for the House War, long before he sat down with his friends and discussed it in Club’s Shop. The beginnings of it were at Trestings Plantation, where he “stirred up a little trouble.” (Prologue, page 12, TFE).

His death, at the end of the novel, was part of a plan; hidden deep under other sets of plans, a hidden leaf of paper among many: A plan to get the Skaa to rise up.

I doubt I need to fully list all of Kelsier’s planning and plotting throughout the books; it’s extensive and would fill several sheets of paper. While we can all agree that Kelsier is an impulsive man, I believe a suitable picture has been drawn up that proves that he doesn’t fit this particular criteria.

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e6 rewatch notes - part 1

I'm breaking this up over two days (for length, clarity, and my own mental health) - I pause and scribble my way through scenes as I go, so there may be a few repeats here and there.

Natalie's bereft face in the opening, attempting to disassociate but failing miserably because that's not her coping style. She obviously doesn't even smoke by the way she's holding the cigarette, she just does it because - much like working inside a commercial kitchen - it's the only legitimate excuse for a break from the chaos. Both she and Mikey act like they've just exited the fog of war (because they have) and - unlike Carmy - they've never had the emotional or material means to escape it.

Sugar's "No one can make anyone else act a certain way" comment to Mikey - it's very clear that they perceive mental illness from very different angles. Mikey admonishes Natalie for her check-ins as an attempt to blunt/control Donna's outbursts, and Sugar's skepticism of Mikey's strategy of just riding the lightning/ignoring the outburst (while acknowledging that he and Carmy have more success, but she attributes most of that to being the female middle child of a grievously ill female narcissist).

Carmy coming out = a hot mess of family dynamics. He asks Mikey (innocently enough) to come in and handle the crowd by being "fun cool guy" and Mikey assures him that he will, but with a vacant look in his eye (no wonder this man was on drugs, what other choices was he afforded?). Fak is literally yelling indistinctly inside, upping the chaos, as Richie bursts outdoors amidst the three siblings to ask if "there's any family shit going on that he should know about".

Along with just trying to be ok themselves, these three adult Berzattos are a magnet for every other wayward adult-child who needs a home to reckon with their own trauma, and their inclusion becomes their problem as well and only ups the frequency of the despair. Mikey literally makes space for the three of them by dismissing Richie "for a minute", and you can tell that's not normal protocol.

"Would it kill you to pick up the phone?" - Carmy is already wounded by Mikey more than 4 years before his death. You can immediately tell by Mikey's earnest response (along with his previous discussion with Sugar) that he was just keeping Carmy at arms length to ensure he never returned, to spare just one of them from a life of hardship. In spite of everything else we see about Mikey and how poorly he manages his trauma in this episode, he is an inherently good brother who started early in inciting loathing in the person he loves above all others just to save him.

I wanted to peek behind the "Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us" bit, as you know damn well it wasn't selected by Storer by accident. The whole idea is that Mary, the Mother of Victory "pleads our cause with a mother’s heart and concern with whatever we bring her. Confident that Our Lady’s prayers are always heard we pray"

I may be reading too much into this, but that's a whole fuckton of power projected onto Donna. Even though it's said in jest, its maternal compassion and mercy that was never extended to the Berzatto kids. It could also be seen as "only Donna's prayers are heard and answered" (through the placating and emotional gymnastics performed by her children) so they utter this little prayer to her as much as they do to God - for control, for relative calm, for the day to simply be ok. They know better than to expect much more than that.

What is the actual point of Fak and Ted? I mean this narratively. I know that the Ricky actor who plays Ted originally worked on the set of The Bear in S1. Did the producers think they had an awesome "boys club" vibe and just plop them in as chauvinistic comic relief? Or is this part of a long-con? Do Fak and Teddy embezzle all of The Bear's money and retreat to Hawaii or something? Right now it's giving "Matty Matheson needs to sell more cookware" and I need a reason for this set-up, as the rest of the players offer more than enough relevant chaos to the episode.

Also, when they ask "Mrs. B, are our skateboards in here? Can we sleep over?" as Donna is cycling in the kitchen - Matty Matheson is in his 40's, so he time-traveled back to a rough-looking 35 to freeload off of his fake-besties Mom and aid in her spiral? I don't get the age timelines/ideas on what arrested development in this show are anymore....

"Say the fucking words" - ooof. I feel like a lot of ink has already been spilled on what the word "love" means in the Berzatto realm, but no wonder Carmy can't comprehend it even when it's right in front of him. Love to him is sacrifice and struggle, panic attacks, pacifying meltdowns, idealization and inevitable betrayal (hello other shoe!), and just saying the word because it diffuses an argument - not unlike rubbing one's chest.

So....what's the likelihood that the abusive chef at EMP is just a projection of Donna living rent-free in Carmy's head at this point? The way she lobs the ball at Carmy with all of the elements that need to be swapped when the timer goes off, the practical matters of running a high-pressure kitchen trailed with jests and insults and total emasculation. Yeah...I think it's pretty high up there.

The second Richie and Carmy trade off the homemade Sprite (before Carmy can grab the prosciutto and mortadella that his mom asked for 2 seconds ago) is just enough silence for Donna to feel abandoned and start unravelling again/start screaming about moving the pot. I can't quite place my finger on the weird amalgam of mental illnesses they gave this woman (hit me up, psych majors) but if its not over-scripted/acted, its a lot.....

Richie and Mikeys "Just take a break from being a mopey little fuck" - phew, these dudes really think that a high-school chick will be Carmy's salvation.

"I don't have a love of my life?" Carmy doesn't even flinch or show recognition of who they're talking about at first, and then it dawns on him that they've probably embarrassed him and he wants to crawl in a hole and die (which is the most honest feeling expressed this episode to date).

And wow. Donna intercepts the whole thing by throwing a spoon at Stevie and screaming "Richard, bring her the fucking pop!" - a.k.a the title of the previous episode with the house party. Those words ended the gang's harassment re: Claire, but then future Carmy willingly waded right back into the abyss of thoughtless conversations, bullying, projections, others' expectations, and the terrible Christmas.

Ok, that's it for now - I'll be back on my bullshit tomorrow.