#so you get a HUGE FUCKING LINKS MASTERPOST INSTEAD

[notjustjavierpena]

Hurried Morning

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Back already with something for you all. Hopefully you’ll enjoy what I wrote yesterday morning. Ah! I love young Joel Miller, neighborhood dilf.

Summary: Joel neglects himself before you have to leave to give you one last dopamine high.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (minors DNI), clit stimulation, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, Joel has big strong hands and just likes to please if he is in control

Word count: 1.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47667250

Hurried Morning

Joel says that he is merely feeling generous with you as he pulls your half-naked frame into his lap, so that your back is resting comfortably against his broad chest. You want to say that he is simply lazy but it’s not like you are ever going to let that slip from your mouth.

It’s late Sunday morning and you’re both seated against the headboard of Joel’s bed. Sarah will be home just before noon, and Joel has to change his bedsheets, air out the room, have a shower and maybe fix up some lunch for him and his daughter. You, on the other hand, just have to get cleaned up and go home before she is here.

He doesn’t have to tell you about his generosity; you know he is insatiable, giving and generous by now, actually knew about a week after the first night that he had taken you to his bed. You know it is cliche to sleep with the hot neighbor, but no one knows about it yet, so you’ll bask in the beauty of how he makes you tremble until someone finds out that you’re screwing the hot single father. You pray, no pun intended, it isn’t the God-fearing Adlers.

You’re in a loose t-shirt that screams weekend, a Batman logo on your chest, but beneath the hem, a pair of cotton panties with a little bow cover your core. You rest your head against Joel’s shoulder as he rests right hand just above your belly button, it seeming undecided at whether or not to go down. His left hand is placed on top of your thigh, scratching slightly until you shiver.

“Do you have a plan with those hands?” You ask him.

“We ain’t got much time,” he muses with a sigh in his pretty little Texas accent. You squirm a little, “I’ll just have to forget myself for a moment, hopefully I’ll forgive myself for it.”

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You ask with disappointment in your tone but the left hand curls around your thigh to pull it a little to the side, opening you up for him.

“‘Fraid not, sweetheart, but I’ll have you chanting my name anyway,” he spreads out your other leg too, noses along your throat and grins into your skin as he sees your toes curl in anticipation.

“O-okay,” you reply, simply waiting for more.

Joel kisses your throat then, right hand descending to hover over your underwear. He only hesitates for a split-second before he cups your sex, fingers sliding over your cunt and then rubbing his whole palm over you to feel the warmth radiating through the fabric. You sigh contentedly.

“Feels good?” He asks, holding his hand there for a moment and a bit of slick seeps out of you. For someone who said that you were short on time together, he sure is taking it.

“Yes,” you try to breathe in deeply but the breath ends up hitching in your throat as he finds your clit on the outside of your underwear. The pads of his index- and middle finger rub slow and lazy circles.

“So this is what we’re gonna do,” he booms behind you. You ready yourself for instructions, “I’ll make you come on my fingers, and then you’re gonna go home and not think ‘bout me all day and night. Night, do you hear me? Especially all night.”

Oh good lord, that went straight to your pussy. You nod quickly, “Whatever you say. I’ll do it.”

The fingers on your clit disappear again but only so Joel can use his thumb instead, and you’re reminded of how huge his hands and fingers are. He presses down on your sensitive nub for a moment, and blood rushes between your legs.

His free hand goes from your thigh to slide up under your t-shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze before his thumb and forefinger tease your nipple. It hardens immediately, and you instinctively buck up your hips. It makes Joel hum behind you, and soon, you feel his generous size poke into the small of your back. It is unbearable to remember that he told you that he won’t put it in you.

“You don’t have to say anything, I know,” he tells you as you moan into the room, turning your head so your face is towards his jaw. You have your eyes squeezed shut as he scratches a little from side to side, making you clench around nothing but emptiness. He continues speaking filth, “I know, baby. I’ll touch you properly soon. Hang in there.”

Your legs shift a little on the sheets when he starts going in circles again, coaxing more arousal out of you until your panties feel sticky. To think that you were happy that you had a pair that wasn’t ruined by him, and with a chance of being dry underneath the jeans that you were going to wear as you walked home later.

You moan a little louder as a bolt of arousal pulls from inside your cunt and goes to your clit. You can feel it pulse against the fabric, against Joel’s thick finger.

“You can have it all, baby— shit, listen to you,” he gropes your breast obscenely, even tugs a little, as he rubs you off with a little more pressure. You want more than this, want him to go inside and relieve some of the pressure that builds inside of you.

“Please, Joel,” you plead shakily, “It’s not enough.”

“I know, never is,” he removes both hands from your body but only to slide them up and down your thighs a few times, finally going inwards to grab on either side of the front of your underwear. He pulls the fabric upwards and taut against your clit, making you whimper as he doesn’t relent quickly again, “Bet you could come so prettily like this. Bet you you’ll go home and do it to yourself later whilst not thinking of me.”

Joel’s breath is hot against the shell of your ear, even slightly elevated from what the both of you are doing. He is still rock hard against you, so you grind back into him.

“Stop,” he commands immediately. His hand flies up to grab the front of your throat, fingers digging slightly into your carotid artery and making your head spin.

“It won’t go away without me,” you pout as he lets go again when your hips have stilled.

“This ain’t about me,” he tells you, then follows up patting your swollen cunt a few times on the front of your underwear. You keen, and he shushes you softly, “This is about you. About her.”

The fabric has smoothed out once more after Joel had to let go of it, so now, both of his hands slide underneath the waistband to touch you directly. He trails a finger from each hand over your labia, expertly avoiding your clit. They go down, one scooping up some of your slick by dipping into your for just a second before going back up.

You are shaking like a leaf, a string of noises leaving you. They were supposed to be words but it’s like you have lost connection to the part of your brain that controls speech. Joel chuckles behind you.

He rubs your clit again with his arousal-covered finger for a moment but then decides against it. For less than a second, you start to feel the pressures in your lower abdomen fade but then Joel uses his other hand to pull back the hood of your clit. When his slick finger starts touching you so directly, you can feel it spike immediately again. It is intense. You thrash on the bed.

“Fuck!” You cry out and look down where his hands are in your panties, moving and straining pornographically underneath the fabric, “Keep going. You’re— you’ll make me come like this.”

“That’s not the plan,” he growls in your ear, panting slightly but not making any effort to stop what he is doing, “I’ll make you fucking gush, yeah? Just like last night. Sheets have to be changed anyway or I’ll smell you on them and fuck my hand without getting any shit done around here.”

“Then do it,” you buck up into his hand like before, but this time also lifting your hips off the bed just slightly. Joel removes the finger from the hood of your clit to slam down your hips again, but despite everything, it just feels nice to not be so directly touched. You don’t want to know what you could’ve missed if you had come right now.

Roughly, the way you like it, Joel pulls your panties to the side. He reaches further down and shoves two fingers inside of your cunt, tilting his wrist downwards to finger against your g-spot quickly. The wet squelches of your wetness fill the room along with your mewls as your orgasm builds again without warning.

Your hands find purchase on Joel’s strong thighs but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Something is building right behind your clit, all muscles around your womb tightening like a coil being pulled. You want it, want it to snap.

“Please, please, please, oh fuck, Joel, make me come,” you are inconsolable, knowing that you’ll start sobbing if it doesn’t happen soon.

“Should’ve had a mirror right in front of us, so you can see my fingers sink into your little pussy,” he moans for the first time, feeling your walls flutter around his two digits and your clit throbbing against his index finger on the other hand. He rubs you and fucks you open in earnest.

Your right hand reaches up to cup the back of his head, fingers curling into the soft hair at the back of his neck. You hold on for dear life, pulling then to embrace what is coming. Joel growls behind you.

And then it happens. Everything that has been pulled tight releases into a high that has you feeling like you’ll melt into the mattress or lift off into the air from it. Your legs shake violently, and as soon as Joel notices the first spasm of your cunt, he pulls his fingers out to see the wet gush that leaves you and forms a stain on the sheets. He fingers you again and repeats the move, watches you gush a few times more.

You quickly grab at his wrist with a sharp intake of breath when the over sensitivity sets in. He stops moving his fingers on you and instead cups what he feels is his more than yours.

“Christ,” you hear him mutter, attempting to rub your cunt soothingly but you whimper, gripping his wrist tighter. He kisses behind your ear, “Wore the little plaything out, didn’t I?”

“What time is it?” You ask quietly, exhaustedly.

“We have an hour,” Joel says after looking at his wristwatch that is on the bedside table, “Think you should take a cold shower, soothe yourself a little.”

“You’re not joining me?” You look up at him with big innocent eyes. They’re pleasing but Joel is strong enough to resist.

“I’ll clean up here, finish up here too or we won’t make it out of the bathroom in time. Can you stand?”

You accept it.

“Yes, hold on,” you crawl off of him, avoiding the wet spot on the bed. You’ll accept anything from a man that has just given you an earth shattering orgasm.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[stabbyfoxandrew]

🕊️ WIP Wednesday (11/20) 🕊️

Hi!!! <33 I hope you have a good day! I really wanna finish vampjean this week, finally! So I'm not sure how many I'll take but I'm excited to get these stories rolling again! :D

Thanks for comments! They’re always appreciated. Love you. <3

1. Vampire Andrew AU 2. Guardian Angel Neil AU 3. Mafia Front Restaurant AU 4. Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU 5. Mer Roadtrip AU 6. Demon Neil AU

*click the links for masterposts for each au!

Here’s some Arson Neil (Part 262):

That's a bit sad, Andrew thinks. But he doesn't say it.

"You're welcome." is what he says instead. Then 10 beams.

"Wait a second. I have something for you, too." He reaches into the backseat right behind Andrew's chair and pulls out a huge gift bag with a pair of silly-looking snowmen on it. He passes it to Andrew and it is fucking hefty.

Andrew lowers it into his lap and gives 10 a look, but the arsonist just smiles encouragingly. “It’s all good stuff, I promise.”

[steviestits]

In The Family Way - Part 3.1

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Argyle/Jonathan Rating: E Summary: The Munson family has never had the typical values that most modern Americans have as they find thrill in all that's mysterious and spooky. Steve Harrington, a black widow omega, hadn't known this when he mated with the family's eldest alpha, Eddie, and thought that he'd be another easy mark that he could kill to inherit the millions that Eddie owned. However, not only do all his murder attempts fail, but Eddie actually enjoys them! And to make matters worse, the alpha wants to try for a pup! Steve has to find a way to off Eddie for good, before he gets pregnant and maybe actually falls for the death-crazed alpha. (Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester) Trigger Warning: Attempted Murder as a love language, Mpreg

THERE IS EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER THE CUT, ONLY CONTINUE IF YOU'RE 18+!

(Link to previous part)

When Jonathan and Argyle first became mates, Eddie had thought that he’d never have an omega of his own. He’d always been a little too creepy, a little too kooky. He wasn’t the right kind of mysterious or spooky like his adopted brother. In all honesty, he was all together ooky for someone from the Munson family, which made him the less desirable brother. A freak even among the freaks according to an unsuccessful blind date and her conjoined twin.

That’s why Eddie had been surprised when Steve expressed interest in him. Steve was such a beautiful omega, like a bloom of oleander or foxgloves. The very sight of him made Eddie’s heart race and pulse quicken in the same way one might experience when a pack of wolves was chasing them. To believe that the feeling was mutual was beyond Eddie’s wildest dreams, yet here they were, mated with Steve bent over the kitchen counter as they attempted to pup him.

They developed a routine over the past month and a half where Steve would seduce Eddie with attempted murder before Eddie bent him over the nearest surface to fuck the omega until the alpha’s knot popped. Today, for example, Steve had invited Eddie into the kitchen for some crème brûlée but used a flamethrower instead of a blow torch. The ends of Eddie’s hair had been singed, but that didn’t stop him from bending the omega over the counter to start fingering him until soft, delightful mewls were escaping from Steve’s mouth.

“Eddie!” Steve whined with ragged breaths. “Eddie, please!”

“Please what?” Eddie asked, as if he didn’t know what the needy omega wanted.

“Knot me! Alpha, need you to stretch my pussy with your huge knot! Please, want it so badly!”

Eddie removed his fingers, wiping the slick onto his jeans before he undid them to pull out his cock. His little minx of an omega had stopped wearing underwear after their second night together, so it was easy for him to hike Steve’s pastel blue skirt up and thrust into him with one fluid motion. When Eddie did, however, he couldn’t help but pause as he enjoyed the feeling of the wet heat that encased him.

“Move!” Steve growled. “Fuck me, damn it!”

“Patience, my pet,” Eddie cooed, moving a hand to rub small circles into the omega’s hip. “Let me enjoy you first.”

Huffing, he asked, “What’s there to enjoy? It’s the same pussy you fucked yesterday.”

“Maybe it is, but it’s also the pussy of my mate, so I’ll never get tired of it.”

“Whatever. Just make sure to fuck me some time this year or you won’t live to see the next one.”

Red colored the tips of Steve’s ears despite his harsh words, which Eddie found endearing. He found that he loved teasing the omega until venomous threats dripped from Steve’s tongue and every bit of the omega was flushed pink with wanton desire. Sweet sounds would keen from Steve’s throat, as well, making the temptation too great, so Eddie had to play with his mate each time simply to see this beautiful side of him.

Eddie wasn’t cruel, however, and soon began to thrust into the omega as he wished. With a small whine, Steve adjusted himself, spreading his legs wider, but he besides that, he didn’t move, allowing Eddie to do all the work. Not that Eddie minded, he relished in pleasuring his omega, nearly finishing early whenever he found just the right spot that made Steve deeply moan in such an unintentionally sensual way.

All of Steve’s little sounds drove Eddie right to the edge, only he refused to cum first. He’d done that on their honeymoon, as he’d been unable to last due to him never having sex before then. The disappointment on Steve’s face had been clear, which was why Eddie had developed his training routine of watching different porn movies and reading books about sexual positions. He practiced with toys, working up his endurance in order to give his omega what he needed.

Given that Steve seemed to be desire sex so often, Eddie felt he could safely conclude that his efforts had worked. He’d taken Steve on almost every surface in the house as the omega’s murderous intent had increased since they decided to start trying for a pup. It seemed that Argyle had been right when he had theorized that Steve was being so seductive because he wanted to get pregnant and to start a family of their own.

“Alpha!” Steve shouted with a groan. “So, close Alpha! Want your knot! Want to feel you cum inside me! Please, Alpha! I need it!”

Steve’s pussy then started to contract, roughly milking Eddie’s cock as he came. The attention proved to be too much for Eddie to take, which made him release his seed as his knot popped. He could feel Steve orgasming as the knot stretched his pussy, locking them in place while his belly bloated slightly from the cum trapped inside him. Seeing this, Eddie couldn’t help but reach around to stroke Steve’s protruding stomach while pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“So good for me, Omega,” Eddie muttered before nipping at Steve’s ear. “Do you think it caught this time? Do you think you have a pup in you?”

“Probably not,” Steve said, shifting awkwardly. “It hasn’t been that long since we started trying, and I haven’t gone through a heat yet either. Besides, there’s no need to rush. You’ll pup me, or die trying. I can guarantee it.”

Humming in agreement, the alpha wrapped his arms around his omega protectively. He knew that it was only a matter of time, but he could only imagine how anxious Steve was after going without a pup for so long. The almost desperate way Steve had increased the daily poison whiskeys he mixed for Eddie was a clear indication that he’d prefer that it’d happen sooner rather than later.

“When is your next heat?”

Steve stiffened in his hold. “What?”

“Your next heat, my pet. When is it?”

“Soon... Uh, well, you see, it’s sporadic. No real set date,” the omega explained. “It’s been like that since I first presented. Any day now, probably. I’ll let you know.”

Eddie nodded, not seeing any problem with Steve’s statement. He didn’t know much about omegas given that most of his family were alphas or betas. Plus, his uncle had said that every person’s body was different. What was true for one omega was different from another, so if Steve said that his heats were sporadic then he believed him.

Part 2.3 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 3.2

[axelsandwich]

yuzuru hanyu: an exhaustive introduction

YUZURU HANYU IN 8 SECONDS: A SUMMARY 

the weird goat noise crying at the end is yuzu himself basically going ‘nooo no way, no I don’t want this, that was scary, so scaryyy’

THIS IS ALSO YUZURU HANYU IN 13 SECONDS

YUZURU HANYU JUST BEING HIMSELF (PART 2)

choose your fighter

he’s happy a lot

basically the embodiment of the n__n emoji

and cute

the cutest 

ever

loves nature on the rare occasions he goes outside

hitting his coach with a fan

scaring his other coach and then running away

adorable w kids

loves teaching

but also falls down a lot. very cutely.

sometimes in a stupidly beautiful way

factual info you could probably Wikipedia but are too lazy to do so: Yuzuru Hanyu is a Japanese figure skater from Sendai, born 7 December 1994 who competes in the men's singles discipline.

PSA: YUZURU HANYU IS NOT THE MODEL FOR KATSUKI YUURI FROM YURI ON ICE (yuuri katsuki is canonically based on tatsuki machida thank u)

japanese media (esp in sendai) basically filmed him growing up and called him a young prodigy so we’re lucky to get footage of chipmunk-cheeked yuzu with his (flying) mushroom hair 

look at this tiny bean

he was interviewed in ice rink sendai with japan’s other figure skating gold medallist shizuka arakawa. to quote, when asked “can you become a gold medallist too?”, he said “probably”. and then he went and did exactly that.

he would get into fights with his rinkmates, used to ball up skate rink magazine flyers to hit like a baseball and basically had a 5min attention span after which he would get bored

he also remained top 5 in his class academically while competing internationally during high school and does online education at waseda university, which is one of the most prestigious universities in Japan (this kid was away the day God handed out laziness and procrastination I s2g)

he’s studying Human Informatics and Cognitive Sciences (ie. basically a massive maths nerd)

my favourite in-depth and extended interviews with yuzu are his press conferences with the foreign correspondents club in japan, he really lets his intelligence and thoughtfulness shine here in particular:

2014 post-sochi olympics

2018 post-pyeongchang olympics

2018 post-pyeongchang olympics (japanese media)

memelord mc memeface (no, I am serious)

literally can’t control his face

I could go on.........

for a long time

(this is my fave)

the duality of man

10 expressions for the price of one

‘yuzuru will also respond in english’

yuzuru was a victim of the 2011 Japanese earthquake and tsunami and lived in an emergency shelter with his family for about a week. spent the summer afterwards skating 60 different ice shows to raise money for the victims. he lost his home rink because of the earthquake and so would go to the show rinks early to practice ): 

it’s heartbreaking that he’s still very affected by the memories. he’s said he doesn’t take anything for granted and is always grateful to have a rink to skate on, and the impact he had on the survivors had a profound effect on his skating

he mentioned it in his post olympics interview

if you feel like crying really really hard today, watch yuzuru visiting sendai’s disaster affected areas and where he stayed initially in the days after the disaster

he donated all his olympic winnings to helping tohoku recover

the only regular TV appearance he does every year is 24hr TV which is a charity marathon to raise money for various causes, especially for areas affected by natural disaster 

“If it is because I visited them that those who suffered from the disaster can forget about their hardships for even just a moment, to me that would be something very meaningful. Therefore, at that moment, I thought that I wanted to get another Gold medal at the next Olympics.” 

the reason why he’s going for another olympic medal. cry with us

gets on with nobunari oda like a house on fire and carries out shenanigans whenever they meet

nobu and ex-tennis player matsuoka shuzo have been his most zealous and purest hype men since he was sixteen, it’s the cutest thing in the world, they’re regularly worried about him, stunned by him and moved to tears by his performances

here they are reacting to his olympics programs

here’s yuzu thanking shuzo for his support by putting his gold medal around shuzo-san’s neck

has the cutest bromance ever with training mate javier fernandez (eg. when he cried bc he didn’t win but was also super happy for javi, and when he watched javi’s free skate)

gives the best hugs to javi

iconic(TM)

just before the Olympic medal ceremony, yuzuru cried after javi told him this would be his last olympics and saying ‘no I can’t do it without you’ wow I didn’t need my heart or anything today

has the cutest interactions with all skaters including his direct competitors

here’s boyang jin giggling about how he got a hug from ‘the guy who likes Pooh’

nathan chen commenting on yuzu & both of them complimenting each other

dodges media attempts to pit him against shoma uno as bitter rivals bc they are NOT ABOUT THAT LIFE 

olympic gold medallist checking to make sure the olympic silver medallist has his jacket on straight and teaching shoma to wave bc he is actually just a mother

the only person who has the ability to make him lose focus: his forever-idol evgeni plushenko (now in motion) 

probably the only asian boy who willingly opted for a bowl cut 

who he shamelessly cheers on during ice shows

literally not capable of not being extra as fuck

here’s his pre-competition rituals aka. lipsyncing silently at a wall

he does it a lot

where every other male skater is in sensible shirts and pants, you will find yuzu standing there BEDECKED IN SEQUINS AND FEATHERS

he don’t give a fuck about your gender norms

and looks excellent while doing so

here he is, single-handedly destroying toxic masculinity

here he is just generally being Extra, with the rest of the men, bullying junhwan, bullying boyang... speed skating

tbh his milkshake seems to bring all the boys to the yard...seriously. and obviously most of the girls...

famous for his death glare murder face of hyper-competitive intensity

scariest thing is how quickly he can switch it on

there’s literally a collection of photos of yuzu - from when he was a bb to presently - eyeing the gold medal from another podium position like ‘my precious will be mine soon’ (here’s another one)

but also for being the sweetest kid ever 

he is truly SUPER polite wherever he goes

hugging his competitors at the 2018 pyeongchang olympics

staying behind to answer all questions from media at the competition

CRAWLING ON HIS HANDS AND KNEES behind competitor shoma uno so he doesn’t get in the background of shoma’s interview

mr worldwide (he thanked reporters at the Olympics in five languages)

watch him say thank you in korean

JP TV basically had entire TV segments where they were like ‘OBSERVE HIS GOD-LIKE BEHAVIOUR’. It continues to this day

there’s literally a shrine with kanji similar to his name and fans pray for him there

he has three dedicated shrines that his fans make pilgrimmages to - yuzuruha and the two seimei shrines. 

oda nobunari visited one and basically all the ema wishes were for him (yuzuru himself also visited the shrine to pray as well)

helping people repair the rink after competitions

single-handedly keeping the winnie the pooh soft toy industry alive.  

Disney-senpai finally noticed him in 2018

he donates all the toys he gets to local orphanages and charities

gives his fans regular heart attacks

watch him save jumps that shouldn’t have been physically possible

changing program halfway through when he failed a jump to accommodate #emergencyquad and #yolotripleaxel 

casually breaks world records because he was annoyed with himself

casual jump combinations during practices

casually says shit like wanting to jump hithero impossible jumps

jumped new quad when pissed off at the world team trophy It is REALLY IMPORTANT to know that the main reason for fan heart attacks is because he’s dealt with a distressing number of injuries, illnesses and misfortunes in his skating life but has somehow managed to come back and succeed in spite of them

a really scary accident that happened at cup of china 2014 and he decided to skate anyway because he wanted to qualify for the Grand Prix Final (which he then went on to win) and he really should not have been allowed to but he.......did that > <;

he then came back a month later to win the Grand Prix Final for the 2nd year in a row

he then had abdominal pain and surgery right after winning Japanese Nationals in 2014

and after spending a month recuperating, still managed to win a silver medal at worlds 2014

this is why we don’t talk about boston

important to note he skated his iconic chopin/seimei 2015 grand prix final programs WITH THAT INJURY

but then he came back and won the world championships in Helsinki in 2017

he missed almost the entire 2017-2018 olympic season he severely injured his ankle while practising the 4Lz in practice at the NHK Trophy, while recovering from a fever

is making his comeback from injury either at the pyeongchang team event or potentially yolo-ing it and going just for the individual event, we have no idea, we just know heart attacks are imminent

update: he skipped the team event and made his COMEBACK SKATE FROM INJURY after 3 months of no competitions and 1 month of prep at the individual mens event of the pyeongchang olympics.... AND FRIKKIN WON HIS SECOND OLYMPIC GOLD 

he then...injured himself again for the 2018-19 season, went out and skated anyway, won the event and showed up to the victory ceremony on crutches. he made a comeback at the world championships 2019 on painkillers yet again and still managed to get a silver medal

is proficient at disappearing like a ninja and subjecting his fans to radio silence for months on end, usually bc he injured himself ))):

so his fans made him a banner

(he has some ridiculously talented fans tbh)

a helpful guide to stanning yuzu (warning: you may feel Attacked)

did I mention he happens to be pretty good at figure skating? 

he’s broken the world record 16 times and counting (the video is his reaction to the first 11 (most of them are his own records)

he’s the first man in 66yrs since Dick Button to win back-to-back Olympic gold medals in mens figure skating (sochi 2014 and pyeongchang 2018)

I cannot emphasise HOW FRIKKIN #YOLO HIS 2018 OLYMPIC SEASON WAS. this was the medal he wanted his ENTIRE LIFE, which he had literally planned since he was a novice skater and had seriously begun planning since right after he won the gold in Sochi. this plan had to be adjusted due to the truly distressing number of injuries, illnesses and misfortunes he sustained during the last quad (his Olympic athlete profile has PARAGRAPHS dedicated to all his injuries - and note these are only the post-2014 ones). but yuzuru started the 2017-18 olympic season with a plan to basically break all 3 of his WRs at the olympics by recycling his Chopin and Seimei programs but upgrading the layout and introducing a new quad - the 4Lz - which he had been preparing for years. and then this plan was, once again, thrown out the window when he sustained the injury in NHK in early November, which was much more severe than he first thought. he sat out of competition for 3mths despite hoping to return first at Japanese Nationals and then to the Pyeongchang team event, but pulled out of both as well. yuzuru made his comeback from injury debut at the individual men’s event, aka. the BIG DEAL, after marching into the airport like a BOSS. we were told he had only recovered his triple axel 3 weeks ago and his quads 2 weeks ago, but post-Olympics, he’s slowly revealing that it was even more dire than that. he skated the entire Olympics on painkillers that were not working 100% which meant every jump landing hurt.  and he. frikkin. WON. by doing this. and this.  (it was also the 1000th medal in Winter Olympics history because destiny rewards those who are Most Extra)

seimei is arguably one of the greatest masterpieces of skating programs and yuzuru was involved in every step of putting it together

his iconic moves ; _ ; 

edges, have you seen anything more ridiculous

romeo and juliet 1.0 at worlds, less than 1yr after the tsunami disaster and really launched him onto the international stage

sochi olympic short program (the thing that won him the gold lbr)

sub point: his reaction to gold

sub point: his reactions to BOTH HIS GOLD MEDALS

chopin and seimei at Grand Prix Finals 2015/16 

WR for highest short program and total program score and he’s gonna bring them both back and try to surpass them for the Olympic season because he wasn’t already under enough pressure.........

hope and legacy FS at Worlds 2016/17 where he came back from 5th place in the short program to win the free and break his own world record yet again (annotated version)

broke his 12th WR in the first event of the 2017-2018 Olympic season at the ACI Challenger event with a sore knee and downgraded jump layout

hilariously, his coach brian orser was - uncharacteristically - warning everyone that his first skates of the season are like ‘first pancakes’ and to not expect too much from him before the SP

his fans, needless to say, were amused

he did go ahead and die in the free skate the following day though, and finished with his obligatory Canadian silver

Jumped and landed his first 4Lz in competition at the Rostelecom Cup 2017 (watch it clean - it’s a THING OF BEAUTY) and now has landed 4 types of quads in competition (4T, 4S, 4Lo and 4Lz). Has now said that being the first person ever to land the 4A - his childhood dream - is one of his key motivations. 

just go watch all his programs lol

has a majestic jump face. it’s art. literally. 

seemingly endless appetite for getting better and continually challenging himself

his favourite word: kuyashii (ie. frustrated)

one of my favourite interviews of him ever was right after his broke all 3 world records and went over 200 and 300 for the FS and total competition score for the first time at NHK 2015.  “[On losing to Patrick Chan at Skate Canada & the fact he was practising during gala rehearsal where everyone else was chilling] I thought I want to improve, even here right now.  Patrick was nearby and it was a really good motivation.   It’s like, ‘Watch me.'  I will definitely practise all kinds of jumps and I will grow for sure.  I will win the next time for sure, I have been practising with that in mind.”   Then 3 weeks later, at NHK Trophy, he had a different lay-out. Yuzu:  This is not related to Patrick anymore.  I was really fired up this time. Boyang Jin got 95 points in SP, right?  When I saw that score, I thought, wow NO MISTAKES!!  He gave the best of his abilities!  OH YES!!!! Matsu: You didn’t think OH NO!!!  You thought OH YES???? Yuzu:  I thought “It’s here!!!"  Since I was a child, I have never liked winning a competition when others made mistakes.  Everyone skates to their best, but I still come first, above all.  That is what I like. I like pushing myself to the edge—.” (translation cr: yuzusorbet) says volumes about his competitive mentality.

this is also iconic AF. ‘In your mind, what do you mean by wanting to win with a commanding lead?’ yuzuru (no hesitation and immediately): after everyone goes clean, I go clean and win. (matsuoka shuzo’s face is a MOOD)

oh, also he’s had asthma since he was two 

he talks about it here

it was referenced in a movie

he got an asthma attack 2wks before the World Championships in Helsinki 2017 and still went out and Did That

the new york times did a long feature on him and it’s mostly a pretty comprehensive article if you want an overview

has remained at number one in the world standings for the entire olympic cycle since 2013 despite aforementioned heart-attack-inducing injuries and illnesses

sucks at finding suits that fit him. because he needs one imperfection

questionable fashion sense in general (generally remains stuck at ‘japanese teenage boy circa 2005′)

he wears toe socks and has been seen wearing crocs once, ho n e st l y

Good Guy Yuzuru: doesn’t wear fitted suits often because he knows it’ll kill his fans and/or will only do so if he gets paid for it tbh

unless he’s wearing under armour

he can keep wearing under armour

seriously, why isn’t he being sponsored by under armour

why

really obsessed with earphones and has like 50 pairs, many of which are custom-made and cost over $1000. he gets really excited about sound quality & bonds with sound technicians over their headphones. basically it’s the only thing he talks about when interviewers want to know what he likes to do in his spare time

that and play games in his room by himself

he’s hyper-competitive about games too

is this a surprise at this point

he’s basically a shut in when he’s not on the ice rink, in competition or at an ice show. he is not v exciting

he got really obsessed with kendama and now has like 8 of them

can’t dance but has no shame (yeah) (YEAH. you’ve been warned). werq it boi

made his japanese film debut in a bald cap, playing the young lord of Sendai which he SORT OF BASICALLY IS

get you a man that loves you like the entire city of Sendai loves yuzuru

their cheer video for sochi and pyeongchang

as of originally writing this intro post - part of the top six men in figure skating right now. probably possesses the Most Lack of Chill, being world champion, olympic champion and holder of all 3 figure skating records. we’re all drinking heavily this olympic season, not in the least because Olympic season has been a Pretty Big Disaster So Far

BUT HE WON THE GOLD MEDAL AND THE MENS EVENT WAS - FOR THE MOST PART - PRETTY DAMN BRILLIANT, especially given all the disasters that happened this season.......so I recommend watching it all. ; __ ; 

alas Patrick Chan and Javier Fernandez have now retired ;;

he’s also b e a u t i f u l 

um excuse me, rude

VERY RUDE

apparently not interested in sex appeal......... 

‘acting’

want to research more? 

here’s a recommended watchpost

a compilation of interesting interviews by tsukihoshi14

gif cr: balladestorm

in conclusion, thank you for reading and I hope you know more about this special, brilliant boy ( : 

[bookwyrminspiration]

is it still council-hating hours? even if not, this is something that's been bothering me for....so long. and i am going to explode if i don't say it right now. (In fact i actually have a doc titled "council incompetence rant" that is. getting a little long.)

One of the things that annoys me the most in Keeper is how utterly incompetent the Council is. They are shit at their jobs! They don't make sense! And that would be fine if that was something that was explored and talked about in the story, but it's not?

Like, sure, it's brushed on a little, but Keeper never goes in-depth in order to explain just how flawed and corrupt the system is! We have no idea how far the rot goes because we haven't been given a chance to see how far it goes, and despite the earlier books being really great setup for all kinds of plots and discussions surrounding the Council, it feels like Messenger is completely dropping that in favor of..."Neverseen Bad, Council + Black Swan Good". Which I call fucking bullshit on, by the way, because this series has gone to pretty decent lengths before to show that it's not the case! So WHY are we getting to that now?

Well, I think all of this is the symptom of a bigger problem.

Note: I don't want to be mean, and please tell me if I'm being too critical here, but this series has some serious problems actually delivering on what it's saying.

Like, it's trying to tell us that Sophie shouldn't be doing all this because she's a kid, but then it treats her very own existence as a project as background information when that should absolutely be at the forefront (like it was in earlier books)!

It's trying to tell us that discrimination against the Talentless is bad, but then every single member of it's cast has an ability, has a strong ability, and regularly uses their ability! Even Dex, who could have easily been talentless and good with tech, gets to be a Super Good Gadget Person thanks to his ability as opposed to his own creativity and ingenuity.

It's trying to tell us that maybe banishing children is bad, but also tells us that Exillium is now """fixed""" because Oralie gave them...better tents? Food? And never touches on the fact that children are still. getting. banished. It doesn't explore Tam's anger in detail, Linh is only there to be the token asian girl, it does nothing to fully dispel any thought of the Council being alright.

And it's trying to tell us that the Council fucks up, it's showing us that Councillors have no problem being incredibly selfish and violent and so many other terrible things, but that never changes. Nothing in Keeper is changing. It is only maintaining the status quo!

I'm confused as to what Messenger is trying to tell her readers! Are the Council good or bad? Is working with the Council good or bad? Are the Black Swan and Neverseen actually morally grey? Should I be angry at what's happening in these books? Am I meant to look at all the rot and shrug because "that's just how it is"?

And like...I wouldn't be mad if Keeper was just...bad! I mean, I would, but I wouldn't be as distraught! What really grinds my gears is that Keeper has the chance to be good. It has the chance to do great things - and at times it absolutely does! - but it keeps reinforcing belief in a deeply flawed and broken system that is regularly hurting people. And those examples were just off the top of my head!

And again, if this was explored within the series, that would be amazing, but the problem is that it's...not. And that's just...a real fuckin' shame, honestly.

- pyro

(sorry if this was like...too angry? i started and then kinda just...couldn't stop. i should probably get a hobby that's not tearing a middle grade series apart. oops.)

it may have been over a week since you sent this (thank you for being patient with me!!), but fuck yes it is still council hating hours. it is always council hating hours in this household that is not actually a house. (also that incompetence rant sounds intriguing)

yes! you are right! they are so bad at what they're supposed to be doing it's like they're just figures for people to look to and say "yea they'll take care of it" to keep everyone else from acting out! but it's really interesting to see a government so awful and incompetent be such an integral and influential part of the story...without acknowledging that they're actually really bad? I know in Unlocked there's a line where Shannon says something like "Sophie had to figure out who the bad guys were: the black swan? the council? someone else entirely?" but then it's never touched on again that I can remember. Thinking through the series, I honestly can't think of a situation that the council, of their own volition, saw was an issue and corrected in a way that was beneficial to those who needed it. Like yea, Oralie gave money to Exillium, but that was after Sophie chewed her out about it. I think i've said it before but in case not: it feels like they've taken the "for the good of the many over the good of the few" ideology too far in a society that doesn't work for. If someone threatens the majority (and often that's just in appearance only) they get rid of them to preserve the image of the rest. It doesn't care about their people, it cares about the majority of people feeling undisturbed.

considering Sophie is part of a huge organization created literally because their society, led by that system, isn't working for a lot of people, they (the Black Swan) sure do go along with the council a whole lot. I think one of the linked posts in one of my masterposts is specifically about how making the Black Swan work so closely with the council screwed them over and completely undermined everything they were working towards. I'm going to make a very vague comparison here, but the Black Swan feel like "we need to fix the system" while the Neverseen are "the system is broken lets start over" (except the Neverseen added a lot more violence into the mix). It's absolutely infuriating to have them working side by side: one, because the Black Swan aren't accomplishing any of their goals and should cut their losses and go back to being mysterious underground groups with more freedom to move (in my opinion), but two, because it makes the council seem like it's trying to fix things when really it feels like a publicity thing to make the public think they're addressing the rebel issue while they're really just showing up in places and causing problems. And!! that's another thing! it feels like their collaboration with the Black Swan is to address the problem of having rebels, not the problems these rebels have identified and are trying to fix. Unfortunately, it seems the council is getting their way more than the Black Swan, getting them to act more legally and work closer with less room for working outside the system. if that makes sense.

considering it's literally stated in unlocked that there is no "good" and "bad," there does seem to be a lot of focus on associating the Black Swan with being Right, and the Neverseen with being Wrong. I can hope that it's the outward reactions to the Black Swan realizing they've done some fucked up stuff (Sophie) and are now overcompensating and trying to make sure their every move is the correct one. But I do think it will be interesting to see if Sophie makes the connection in canon (as she's already started to) that there isn't always a right option, there's just the best you can do with a situation and the Black Swan's insistence that she was "in the wrong" (a summary) helps her realize her own values and think through their decisions with her own perspective instead of just trusting them

response to your note: you're fine! you bring up a good point that this book sounds like it wanted to be a unique perspective (by having the "good guys" also be questionable and give the "bad guys" reasonable motives) but the execution misses the mark for a lot of us. so you're qualms and observations are entirely valid and I don't think you're being mean at all! I think you're expressing a frustration you have with something, which I support and encourage.

at times it feels like Shannon bit off more than she could chew in terms of all the complicated things she could get into when it comes to this series. not saying she's doing a bad job or a horrible author or anything, just that there are some things she introduced that kind of get left behind or unexplored because there's so much else going on. I think we can see that in the whole being experiment part of Sophie life. we saw sophie was uncomfortable with it in the first few books and would sometimes bring it up, but I personally would've been more satisfied if she'd either taken the time to process it (opposed to her think about that later strategy) or come to the realization that no, she isn't okay with it and she deserves to have her thoughts on the matter heard. she was literally created to serve someone elses purpose, and brought into the fight too early at that. and yet it's treated like an "oopsie, guess we just gotta go with it" thing, like this minor part of her story when I bet her thinking about it for more than a minute at a time would absolutely wreck her. but I'm getting caught up in this, so moving on!

I think we can see it in the talentless too, as it's treated like a "that doesn't affect me" thing for Sophie. because she doesn't have any friends that are talentless right now--the closest she's got is Marella, who I think is still legally considered talentless with her pyrokinesis. it's been acknowledged that she doesn't think the way talentless are treated is right, but it doesn't impact her right now so she's not really doing anything about it. maybe if this was brought back later with someone like Jensi, then that would be a satisfying conclusion to this issue (not a conclusion, but it wouldn't be left hanging, if that makes sense). And I can understand the benefit of leaving things open to go back and explore later from a writers perspective, but at a certain point it becomes more of a hindrance to the story than anything else.

and exillium! I have so many thoughts on Exillium that I actually started talking about it earlier in this post. They're not doing anything unless prompted and what they do is the bare minimum. With the tents and the food, they aren't fixing Exillium, they're making it into what it should've been at the very least were they going to actually go down that route. So I can't praise them for it when it's just basic decency to provide literal children with food and shelter when you force them to be somewhere they don't want to. But all this doesn't fix Exillium, because the problem is that it exists in the first place. The problem is that the council saw children who were struggling, and decided the best thing to do with them was to just get them out of the way for everyone else. Three coaches total for leadership? yeah, there's no way that place was ever supposed to be "alternate learning" or however Oralie phrased it, that was just so you could say you hadn't completely abandoned them in the middle of nowhere.

you're so right about the council fucks up bit--I think the most obvious example of this is with Sophie's ability restrictor. Yea, she's not wearing it anymore, but that's not because the council changed their minds. It's because she broke the law and the didn't punish her for it. this is a great example of how things keep trying to move forward, but the council isn't doing anything to stay up with it. "they are selfish and violent[...] but that never changes." yes!! this!! you put it so well! the council is still the same old council that we saw in book one, concerned with their own interests and their own views, just trying to mitigate the damage Sophie and her friends are capable of doing to their system. Note: the fact that a handful of teenagers who haven't even graduated can do this much damage might be telling of the structural integrity of their system. Bronte and Terik did a little flip, and Alina replaced the Now Crispy Kenric, but aside from that nothing has changed.

I will say, I personally don't want it to be clear who the good guys and bad guys are. (not saying that's what you're asking for! just piggybacking off your comment on the confusion). I'm glad that the characters make me think and I'm grateful there isn't just the "we're good and they're bad" element you see in other stories. not that that's bad, i just think realistically they'd be more complex and their simplicity grows repetitive after a while. But like I said, at times it feels like there's too much going on for there to be a clear message, which in and of itself could be the message. i could be seeing something where there's nothing, though. I think part of it might be Shannon trying to take on all these complex narratives and perspectives with a limited perspective (as in she only has Sophie to tell the story through), while also needing to make it enjoyable and palletable to a young audience.

and I agree with you! I think it's a lot of the potential we see not being used that makes us so infuriated (or me at least). Because there are some stories yo uread where you're like "ah. it's just one of those stories. cool." and you move past it. Because you know it's going to have a set perspective and you know it's going to accomplish what it wants, but Keeper seems to have so many possibilities and Shannon's getting stuck in this rut of good and bad after so long. maybe we'll get out of it in the next book with sophie thinking the Black Swan was in the wrong, but I also wouldn't be surprised if that Didn't Happen.

it's just like what i was saying about Ro! There's all these opportunities for these characters and this world to be really explored and fleshed out and complex, but we've gotten stuck in this romance drama and loosing fights again and again with little progress. All their actions are undoing the Neverseen's actions and counting it a victory because no one is dead. I just think there could be so much more that we're not getting because the story tried to go too broad when it wasn't ready for it.

this response got very long but in essence: I agree with your assessment of the story. is frustrating to see so many of the details and paths we'd like to see explored that often aren't in fiction just pass us by.

there is a special place for keeper in my heart and I will always appreciate it for that, but I also mourn what it could've been.

(also: you are not too angry! you have genuine thoughts about this series and they deserve to be heard! we are allowed to have complaints, even about the things we like. we don't have to appreciate every single aspect and we're allowed to be mad at the things we don't like.)

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Twelve

Link to Masterpost

I didn’t think I’d have this done so quickly, but here we are!

Content/Warning: While not intended to be a main focus of the work, this chapter does contain discussion of sexual orientation and the revelation of a side character as a trans man (who is almost assuredly not trans in the original canon). While I definitely want to be as respectful as possible even though I’m only barely broaching the topic, I cannot claim to be trans myself, so if I’ve gotten something wrong in my admittedly-minimal talk about it please tell me!

Today’s prompts:

Aelin getting stood up for a date

and

Inappropriate exclamations during an innocent massage

~*~*~

Aelin crossed her legs, leaning forward with an interest she was struggling to feel. “So, Ilias, you said you’re here for work? What is it you do?”

Ilias grinned a little too sharply at her, amusement flashing in sea-green eyes. “I work in… private security. I’m afraid I can’t say more than that.”

“Right.” She began to fidget with the skewer that had held her drink’s cherry, searching for something else to say.

“You seem uncomfortable. Want to get out of here?”

Oh gods, was he really…? Yes, he was leaning in, and the way his eyes flitted down her torso and then back up meant he was saying exactly what she thought he was saying.

“You know, if I’m being honest I don’t know if this is going to work,” she blurted out. “I mean, with you being based so far west of here, and traveling all over for your work… I’m not looking for forever on a first date, but maybe something a bit more stable than that.”

Ilias’ brow furrowed, then he nodded with an easy grin. “Fair enough. I definitely can’t promise stable.”

~*~*~

It had been a while since Aelin had been on a date with a woman, but she knew without a doubt that wasn’t the cause of the nerves settling in the pit of her stomach as golden eyes flashed at her from the barstool beside her. “Can I ask you a question that’s probably a bit rude?”

Her companion—Manon, that was her name—merely raised an amused eyebrow.

Aelin blurted out the question that had been at the tip of her tongue for the past several minutes. “Do you find that people being both scared and turned on is a normal reaction around you, or is it just me?”

Manon smirked, flicking her platinum braid over her shoulder. “It’s what I aim for,” she replied with a flash of sharp teeth.

Aelin laughed. “Okay, if I’m being honest we’re probably a terrible romantic match, but I like you. This is probably weird, since we’re on what’s supposed to be a date, but I have this friend who I think would absolutely love you…” Aelin trailed off, scrolling through the pictures on her phone.

Pointed nails dug into her shoulder as Manon peered at the screen. “I’m interested.”

Aelin blinked. “I haven’t told you anything about Elide.”

“I can see what I need to know about her from the way she’s holding herself in that picture. I’m willing to meet if she is.”

“I’ll introduce you on the condition that you teach me that trick you used on the guy you passed on your way in.”

“Deal.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

~*~*~

Aelin sighed from the corner of the bar, shaking her head as Lysandra gave her a questioning stare. Ress was late. Incredibly late, not just something she could attribute to traffic.

She swirled the whiskey in her glass, watching the amber liquid to stop herself from checking her phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. He would show up if and when he showed up, and she was determined to not be bothered by it even though it bothered her immensely.

Maybe she should take Lysandra up on her offer to set her up. It couldn’t be worse than her experience trying to find people on dating apps.

Finally, her phone chimed as the screen lit up with an unfamiliar number. Aelin, it’s Ress. I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s been a huge disaster at work and apparently I’m the one who gets to clean it up.

Aelin sighed. Well, at least he’d texted her.

~*~*~

“Three flops in as many weeks, Lysandra, I think I’m cursed.” Aelin sighed and nestled further into the couch. “I mean, I went on a run today to try and calm down. Who goes on runs?”

“Rowan goes on runs,” her friend replied wickedly. “And I told you from the start that dating apps were hit or miss. This isn’t college anymore.”

“I didn’t have to worry about it in college,” she reminded her.

“That’s right, you were doing that thing with Sam where you thought you were a lesbian and Sam hadn’t fully come to the realization that he was a guy yet. You know, I still can’t believe you two wound up staying friends after how that fell out.”

Aelin grimaced. Some days she couldn’t quite believe it, either; she had hardly been graceful about it in college. “It took a lot of distance and a lot of growing up,” she admitted. “And a lot of admitting that I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”

“Anyhow, if you’re ready to hear my ideas, I could set you up with Archer.”

Aelin frowned, rubbing at a sudden cramp in her calf muscles. “Is that a person’s name, or a profession?”

“It’s his name. I can help you with that, if you want.” Lysandra leaned forward and took over, deftly massaging her leg.

“And how exactly do you know this Archer?”

“I worked with him at that massage parlor in Rifthold.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Lysandra’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Aelin scowled. “No one from Rifthold.”

Green eyes softened in understanding. “He’s not like—”

“I don’t care. No.”

Thankfully, her friend dropped it there, instead focusing on working the knot out of her sore muscles. “I could also set you up with Rowan.”

Aelin groaned. “Oh gods, Lys. No.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My ability to live with him, and therefore my home?” She turned her head just enough to glare at her friend, otherwise remaining practically boneless as she sprawled across the couch.

Lysandra laughed. “You think Aedion wouldn’t kick him out over you?”

“I don’t want it to come to that. So no, you’re not setting me up with him.”

“But you could go on runs together, and when you push yourself too hard he could probably carry you home.”

“You’re a terrible influence. Remind me why we’re friends again?”

“Because you’re a worse one,” her friend grinned. “Besides, I can do this.”

A few deft strokes of Lysandra’s hands had the tension leaving her leg, and she moaned in relief. “Gods, that feels so good.”

“See? Everyone likes my hands, they’re one of my best features.”

“Don’t get all smug with me—yes, right there!”

A loud noise near the doorway had them both freezing and looking over, only to discover that Rowan had gotten home early and looked absolutely mortified. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aelin, you have a room.”

Aelin blushed hotly as she played back the last several moments of their conversation. Exactly how much had he heard? Hopefully it was just the last part; as awkward as it was, it was easier to explain than her misplaced attraction to him. “As trite as this sounds, it’s not what it looks like.”

“So you haven’t brought one of your recent dates home?” As odd as it was to think, she was relieved by the scowl on his face; the expression combined with his words indicated that he hadn’t heard them talking about him.

“Gods, no. This is Lysandra. From the bar, remember?”

Bless her, Lysandra stood and waved with a grin. She was less thrilled with what her friend proceeded to say, though. “Your friend here pushed too far running and hurt her leg. I was just helping with that.”

Immediately Rowan’s gaze fixated on her legs, obviously searching for any obvious sign of injury. Aelin sighed. “I’m fine, buzzard. It was just a muscle cramp.”

He nodded, the motion sharp and jerky, and strode into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water with almost mechanical precision. “I guarantee you didn’t drink enough water before you ran. This should help prevent it from coming back.”

She scowled, but obediently sipped from the glass after he handed it to her. “I thought you weren’t supposed to right before running. Doesn’t that upset your stomach?”

“I’m talking about yesterday, Aelin. You should be keeping well-hydrated on a daily basis if you’re going to take up running.”

“You just want me to drink more water,” she accused. “That sounds made up.”

“Just try it,” he replied. “You’ll thank me later.”

Her head jerked back toward the living area at the sound of a door closing, only to find that Lysandra had taken the opportunity to quietly let herself out. Her friend grinned and waved from the driveway when she saw her, clearly realizing she was caught and utterly unrepentant.

Aelin sighed and turned back to Rowan, who was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite identify. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “I just needed something to help me not think for a while after these shit dates I’ve been on lately, and I’m told drinking alone is a sign of having a problem.”

The corner of his lips quirked up in the barest hint of a smile. “They must’ve been really bad, to make you consider running as a viable option.”

Aelin shrugged. “I mean, I’ve had worse, but I’ve also had better? It was just one miss after another, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then turned toward the refrigerator. “I think I have everything we need to make pasta, if that’ll help you feel better.”

“You’d actually make me pasta?” She frowned; there had to be some kind of catch. There was no way he would simply allow that many carbs to be on his stovetop at the same time.

“I would,” he replied, heading toward the pantry and grabbing…

“Wait, that’s not pasta,” she blurted out. Gods, she knew there was a catch.

He laughed, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing their eggs as well. “It’s not pasta yet.”

“You can’t seriously mean—” There was no way he was actually making pasta from scratch. There was a reason it came in boxes, she was sure of it.

“I can and I do. Now either stop talking and watch or get out of my kitchen.”

Aelin chose to watch, and the play of muscles in his forearms as he made and kneaded his own pasta dough was almost enough to make her forget about why she’d thought it was a good idea to try dating again in the first place.

Almost.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @livsdriverslicense @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22 @rowaelinismyotp @sleeping-and-books @acciowests @stardelia @anidealiveson

[thebountyfucker]

The Two Princes - Royal AU

NSFW - 18+ ONLY

Embo x F!Reader x Cad Bane

Tags: sex party, public sex, double penetration, threesome, blowjob, handjob, overstimulation, maybe ooc but this is an AU so I don't care lol

CW: mentions of drugs, prostitution, power imbalance (the reader is a hired attendant, and both Embo and Cad are princes. Reader is not a part of either of their domains, so they have no control over her. However, I did want to include it just in case)

Here's a link to my masterpost and to the application for my taglist!

“So explain to me again what is going on?”

“There’s nothing else to say.” Your boss replied as he sorted through his collection of datapads, his fingers flicking through the stack until he found the right one. He pulled it out and thrust it in your direction. “Ya gotta sign it.”

“Sign… what?” You took the datapad into your hands and powered it on. A file appeared, one that was rather lengthy and full of legal words that you couldn’t, for the life of you, understand. You parsed through the paragraphs of Aurebesh, before pausing and glancing up. “Is this an NDA?”

“Yep.” Your boss was quick to reply, turning his stout body from you to search around his office for something else. You uneasily returned your attention to the swirling legalese, and faltered. Your boss noticed your hesitancy, and sighed. “I can tell you this - it’s the royal folk. One of them is planning some shindig, and needs you and the girls to help take care of them.”

“Is it… safe?”

“You tell me. You know them royal folk better than I do.”

You wouldn’t exactly say you knew them; one one-night stand with Prince Cad hardly seemed to count, in your opinion. Though, if this party was hosted by a royal, there was a good chance that you’d get to see him again. He’d protect you if things went wrong, right? You stared down at the datapad, and your boss huffed impatiently.

“Look, sign it or don’t. I need to know who to staff now. They aren’t the patient type.”

“Alright, alright.” You scribbled your signature down on the line and your boss snatched the datapad from your hand. He tossed it aside and waddled around from the other side of the desk, gesturing with two fingers for you to follow him.

“You and the others will caravan to The Veil, where you’ll meet the employer. Remember, none of what happens tonight can be talked about, or we’ll be sued to shit. You understand?” You nodded again at this, the uneasy sensation rising in your stomach once more. Your boss glanced over his shoulder at you, and scoffed. “They ain’t gonna eat you! Relax!”

“Easy for you, perhaps.” You muttered under your breath as you both slipped into the meeting room. About fifteen young women - your coworkers - were waiting in the room. Most seemed just as confused as you were.

“The employer has everything you’ll need. Don’t let them talk you into doing anything that isn’t in your job description, okay? You’re attendants, not whores.” Your boss drawled as he crossed his arms over his chest. The last line, specifically, caught your attention. You’re attendants, not whores. What about this job warranted that comment? He had to know more than he was letting on, and this bothered you. You supposed he, likely, had to sign a similar NDA, but at the same time, you hated going into jobs blind. Things were more likely to go wrong this way… and the royals weren’t the type you wanted to disappoint. “Get your asses moving. He’s waiting on you.”

-

The Veil was unlike anything you had ever seen before - it was a meeting hall affiliated with Azvergin Hotel - a high-end joint for billionaires and royals alike. This meeting hall was just as high-class, with high ceilings and sculpted arches and hand-carved crown moulding. Columns lined the grand hall, holding the heavy mosaic ceilings from toppling to the floor. Famous artwork was displayed along the walls. You were so caught in how awe-inspiring this hall was, you hardly noticed the room was empty. There were no tables or chairs to be seen - something you expected for a function fit for royalty.

“This way.” The grounds-keeper spoke, pulling your attention from the details of the room; it was then that you finally noticed how quiet everything was. You turned towards the groundskeeper, watching as they turned down a long hallway. You jogged after them, your coworkers following closely behind.

“Where is everything?” You asked, and the groundskeeper glanced over their shoulder at you.

“Downstairs.”

“Right…”

They turned to the left and knocked on a door; a small peephole opened, and someone from within called out.

“Who are these ladies?”

“Attendants.” The groundskeeper explained. “The prince sent for them.”

The peephole closed, and the door opened instead. The guard gestured for you to enter, which you did; you slowly descended down the flight of stairs, noting that the lighting had dimmed and that low, sultry music was playing over hidden speakers. You turned to look at your girls, the pieces of this puzzle slowly forming in your head; it wasn’t until the door opened that things finally started making sense.

The room was much smaller than the grand hall above, without the frills and displays of wealth. It was hard to tell what colors the walls and floors were, given how dark the room was compared to the hall above. Plush chairs, chaises, and even beds were dotted around the room. Men and women were already wandering around, dressed in lingerie or kink apparel. They glanced at you and your party, but didn’t say anything.

Against the wall closest to the entrance of the room was a table covered in sex toys, condoms, lube, and little flags of various colors.

You understood the NDA now; this was not your typical job. No… this was a sex party. You had been hired, by one of the royals, to attend to them while they’re likely doing dope and fucking the brains out of prostitutes. Great. This would be fun.

A door to the left of the room opened up, and out stepped Prince Embo, the tall, broad chested Kyuzan prince. He wore a loosely tied satin robe, which exposed his defined chest; tattooed across his exposed skin were dark green, blocky symbols. You could make out the facsimile of a sun printed along his collarbone, though no other shapes made sense to you. Your gaze trailed down his chest and abdomen, before noting the loose tie which held his robe shut. You wondered if he was wearing anything underneath it…

Embo cleared his throat, and you startled, your gaze ripped from the knot of his closure. Your gaze flicked up to his face, before you remember that he was royalty and some royals found eye contact with subordinates to be threatening; you briefly met his gaze, noting the amusement in his face, before you cast your gaze to the floor.

“What is this?” He inquired, looking you all over; he waded through the crowd, looking over each and every one of you personally. His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, sending shivers straight down your spine. “My attendants, yes? Come. I have uniforms for you.”

You tentatively followed him into the room he had just exited from. He started rifling through a box, paying no mind as the sixteen of you gathered around you.

“What will be our role here tonight, your majesty?”

“Attendants. As is your job title.” He answered bluntly as he pulled out enough uniforms and set them aside. “You do not have to do what you are not trained for. Just offer drinks and take care of my guests.”

“I… well… okay.” You nodded as you grabbed one of the dresses - they were short, but not too revealing. Guests would definitely be able to tell the difference between you and the entertainment, even in the dim light. You held it up to you, noting that the prince was watching you. His gaze held interest, but no ill intent; you weren’t sure why, but your stomach somersaulted and your heart skipped a beat.

“Is that a problem, miss?”

“No, your majesty.” You replied, and he stood to his full height, towering over you in a way not many others could. This, embarrassingly, sent spikes of pleasure to your cunt. If he was this tall, you knew he had a huge cock to match.

“Good. My guests shall be arriving any time now. Do not keep us waiting too long.”

He ducked out of the room, giving you ample room and privacy to change. You slipped out of your work uniform and pulled on the given dress; it was red in color, and made of silk. It clung to your body, accentuating your curves; there was something about this dress that made you feel so pretty. Most other uniforms you were given were unflattering at best and purposely ugly at the best. You appreciated the prince’s good tastes.

The others gossiped about the situation you all were in as you pulled on your shoes. You weren’t much for gossip usually, but you understood how odd this situation was.

“So the rumors of the Prince are true!”

“Who knew that a royal could have such a ravenous appetite!”

“Of course he would! Those types always get what they want.”

You chuckled as your mind wandered to your night with Cad. They weren’t entirely wrong; royals were just as fickle and just as horny as everyone else. But you couldn’t imagine Cad throwing such a party. Hell, you couldn’t even imagine him attending such a circus! Prince Embo surely was something else...

You made sure your shoes were on tightly, and slipped out the door. You wanted to get a feel for the place before the chaos began. You took note of the supplies on the table near the door, and of the bar you had somehow missed. So far, there was nothing illegal, but you weren’t certain it would stay that way.

The main floor was still only populated by prostitutes at this point, despite the Prince’s warning that guests would soon be arriving. Some were fixing their hair or make-up, and some were chatting it up with anyone around. Missing, however, was the Prince. You tried to find his towering frame in the crowd, but that was easier said than done.

A hand slid across your back to your shoulders, and you jumped in surprise. You turned, noting Prince Embo staring back at you. You lowered your gaze respectfully, and he responded by wheeling you around to face him, and gripping your chin in his free hand.

“I think I would like for you to be my personal attendant tonight.” He purred, tipping your head back so he could look at you better. His glowing gold eyes searched your soul, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in response. “Pretty thing. It is too bad you are not one of my entertainers tonight.”

His presence was engulfing, and your heart skipped a beat. His thumb brushed over your lips, and you had to stop yourself from parting your lips and accepting it into your mouth. Mindlessly, you edged closer, and the hand on your shoulder slid downward….

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A familiar voice drawled and you winced; of all the people that could have walked through the door at this time, it had to be Cad. The only royal who actively had a past with you, and the one you figured wouldn’t dare be seen at such a function. You turned away from Embo’s grasp, glancing over at an amused Cad. “Didn’t expect t’ see ya here.”

“I only hire the best.” Embo explained, sauntering over to his chair, which overlooked the rest of the room.

“Yeah. De best.” Cad smirked. There was no malice in his tone; rather, you figured this was his attempt at teasing. “Dat’s de one dat spilled wine all over yer mother’s dress."

Blood rushed to your face, and you were thankful that the lights are so dim; you had just barely forgotten about that whole mess, and now Cad had to bring it back up - to the Queen’s own son, nonetheless! You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Your self-pitying was cut short by a loud laugh from Embo; at first, you were glad that he wasn’t upset by this information. But then, you realized that he was likely laughing at you. Your mood soured, and you crossed your arms over your chest in a pout.

“So that was you? Oh, my mother raved about you for days after that.” Embo leaned back on his little throne, spreading out like he owned the place. Maybe he did.

“I… what?” You dropped your arms, confused.

“You gave her an excuse to change out of that gods-awful dress my father bought her. She wanted to hire you to ruin whatever gifts he gave her, but we had to talk her out of it.”

“Shouldn’t have.” Cad chuckled. “It would be the best job she’d ever have in her miserable little peasant life.”

“Hey now.” You frowned. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Cad waved you off as he drew closer. “You wouldn’t happen t’ be available tonight?”

“She is an attendant, Cad. And mine for the night.”

“Figures. You always bag de good ones.” Cad shook his head as he stood; he looked you up and down with a licentious smirk. “I’ll see you ‘round, den.”

“Of course.”

You watched Cad retreat to settle in a nearby chair. One of the prostitutes - a handsome man - approached, sitting on the arm of the chair. Well… at least Cad was there in case things got out of hand.

Embo called to you, and you turned toward him; he gestured with his two fingers, watching with an intensity as you approached. You bowed your head when you reached the foot of his chair, and he tsked.

“None of that.” He told you. “There is no need for pleasantries here. Now… fetch me a drink.”

-

You had never been around so much sex in your entire life. Everywhere you turned, there was someone giving someone else head, or someone riding someone else’s dick. The room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, of gagging, of slicked up cunts… and the moans… oh the moans!

You edged around one of the beds -where a princess was getting gangbanged by a group of various alien men- carrying the tray of goodies to your prince. Embo was leaned back in his chair, looking surprisingly bored even as two ladies fondled his cock. You leaned down to hand him his drink, which he accepted with a grunt.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this, my Prince.”

He just shrugged nonchalantly as he sipped at his drink. “I am not feeling particularly inspired.”

With a wave of the hand, he dismissed the two ladies, and closed his robe up. You set your tray down and knelt before him. He carded a hand through your hair, muttering something in his mother tongue. “Is there anything I can do to make this a better experience?”

He glanced over at you, his gaze lazily trailing down your form; something - which you figured was lust- sparked in his golden eyes, but he was not quick to act on his feelings. He gestured with his free hand, and you offered him some sort of smokable, which you figured was not smart given his need for a breathing mask. He lit it and slumped back in his chair.

“No. Stay your course, kamour.”

“Are you sure, my Prince? I… am offering to help you. You hired me to help, right?” You inquired, reaching out to touch his hand. He glanced over at you, and you wondered how much convincing it would take him before he realized you were serious. Not much, it turned out.

“I am no monster. Say the word and I will let you go.”

“Of course.” You settled between his parted legs, your soft hands slowly sliding up his naked thighs. What was it your boss said? Oh, that you were attendants and not whores. Well, what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Your hands swept under his satin robe, parting it open to reveal his large cock. You wrapped your hand around the base of it, and slowly worked your way up his length. He was already hard from the ministrations of the prostitutes, the head of his cock flushed a deep and needy green. You leaned forward, gathering spit in your mouth before drooling it out onto his cock; you locked gazes with him as you spread your saliva down and around his shaft.

“Now, dat ain’t fair.” Cad’s voice startled you from your task, and you turned to spy him sitting on the arm of an unused chair. He was completely naked, with his arms crossed over his chest. “You said she was an attendant.”

“I did not lie. She is attending.” Embo put his mask back into place, and ran his hand through your hair. “She is doing her duty.”

“Yeah, well, I want in on dis.”

“That is up to her.”

You hardly even had to think - you reached for Cad, wrapping your hand around his slick, hard cock. You gave him a pump, and Cad hissed through gritted teeth in response. You gestured for him to move closer, and he did; the princes met gazes but said nothing to each other as you reached the other hand out to stroke Embo’s cock.

You stroked them both at the same time, reveling in the hisses and grunts trickling from their mouths. The way their cocks pulsed in your hands was enough to make your pussy tingle, and arousal slowly built within you. There was something depraved about this - about a lowly attendant pleasuring two powerful princes in the midst of a sex party - but the depravity only added to your pleasure. You could hardly stop yourself from grinding your needy cunt against the heel of your own foot.

“Enough of dis pussy-footin’. Are ya gonna suck me off or what?” Cad drawled, as impatient as ever; you quirked a brow as you leaned forward to give him a long, wet lick. He growled in response, his hands threading in your hair. “Come on, doll… don’t be teasin’ me now.”

“You forget that you weren’t the first man I was pleasing.” You replied, your voice wavering. You weren’t sure it was a good idea to talk back to him, especially in this position. Though, you supposed, you held the power when you held his cock. Any wayward comment and you were in a prime position to bite him. You figured he wouldn’t risk it.

Cad scoffed and you leaned away to wrap your lips around the head of Embo’s cock. He chuckled and leaned back.

“She is not lying.”

“You shut up.” Cad muttered as he pressed a hand to the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to guide you. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

It went like this for a while - you’d take one into your mouth, bobbing and sucking like a good little whore, before pulling away to take the other one. You felt oddly powerful knowing you had the ability to bring these two princes to their knees with only a touch. You reveled in this power for as long as you could before Embo lifted you up and sat you on his lap. He pulled you close to his chest, purring.

“I am going in you.” He told you, giving you ample time to back out of it. When you didn’t protest, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing, and turned you to face Cad. He guided you onto his cock, and you winced as the head slipped into your drooling cunt. You hadn’t realized that he was quite this large. He gripped your hips, controlling how slowly you eased down onto him so you didn’t hurt yourself.

Cad waited until you were ready before offering his cock to your mouth once more. You parted your lips, your eyes half-lidded and darkened with lust, and he chuckled.

“Are ya cock-dumb already, doll?” He reached out to tangle his hand in your hair. “Are our cocks just dat good?”

You nodded in response to this, greedily latching around his cock and sucking hard. He let out a hiss and tugged at your hair, spurning you to start bobbing up and down his length. At the same time, you had fully engulfed Embo, sheathing his cock deep within you. Your whine was lost amongst the sloppy slurps of Cad’s cock easing in and out of your wet mouth.

Embo slowly, gingerly, eased in and out of you, taking care not to hurt you in the process. Every time he pulled his cock half out of you, you took Cad’s cock to the hilt with a gag. Every time Embo bottomed out within you, you pulled away to breathe. It was tough to find the right rhythm at first, but when you did, the pleasure was all-encompassing. Your head was spinning, arousal burning deep within the well of your stomach; your eyes rolled back and your hands went to your breasts, squeezing so tightly you were sure they’d bruise.

“Think she could take us both in there?” Cad asked, and your mind wandered at the prospect. You imagined the sensation of their cocks filling up your cunt, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The idea was fascinating, and a bit frightening. You didn’t realize that you were drooling around Cad’s cock until your spit splattered on your thigh.

Embo leaned you back against his chest, a finger probing at your cock-stuffed pussy. He slipped it inside, and your eyes went wide; Cad’s cock slipped from your mouth as the air vacated your lungs. You quivered against Embo, a pathetic little whimper escaping your lips.

“No… not unless you intend to split her in half.”

“Shame.” Cad shook his head; he pondered for a minute, before tipping your chin up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

As if you had other plans. Embo rested his head against you shoulder, purring softly. “I would like to see your pretty face, kamour.”

“Alright.” You turned around, facing the prince; you couldn’t tell for sure, but you guessed he was smiling behind that mask of his. His large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warmth.

“Beautiful.” He slowly rocked his hips up into you again, and you whimpered. “A beautiful, sex drunk whore. You like my cock, hm?”

“Yes.” You breathed, matching his thrusts by rolling your hips; his finger slipped out of your cunt, and instead stroked your swollen, trembling clit. A fire built in your stomach, and your vision went blurry. Your orgasm was within reach! You gasped out his name, your voice strained yet velveteen. Embo’s eyes brightened at this, and he reached up to wrap a steady hand around your neck.

“Say it again. Say my name again.” He commanded, his voice husky with his own desire. You whimpered.

“Embo….”

“Again!” He rubbed at your clit faster, slamming up into you with a ferocity you had never felt before. You could hardly find the strength within you, but you couldn’t displease him.

“Embo!” You cried out, your entire body quivering as the fire of orgasm consumed you. Your head danced in the clouds as your body went limp and useless against him. He held you close, his hands dancing over your form.

“Shit, did I miss out on all de fun?”

You lifted your head and glanced over your shoulder to spy Cad with his hands on his hips. You shook your head, your tongue weighing like lead in your mouth. You gestured for him to draw closer, which he did, and you gave his now condom-clad cock a stroke.

“I do think she can take more.” Embo hummed, his hand rubbing at your thigh. You nodded in agreement at this, and Cad leaned down to nip at your neck.

“Good. Do you still want to take de both of us?”

“Yes!” You chirped, and Cad chuckled.

“So eager.” Cad maneuvered you into Embo’s chest, giving him better access to your ass. Cad lubed you up with a bottle he had grabbed from somewhere, and gently eased into you. A strangled cry escaped from somewhere within you as Cad brushed against the thin, sensitive wall separating his cock from Embo’s. You could hardly keep yourself upright, the sensations quickly overwhelming you; Embo had to keep you from falling completely limp onto his chest.

“Easy now. This is not too much for you, is it?”

You shook your head at this. “N-no.”

“‘Course it ain’t.” Cad yanked on your hair, pulling your head back enough so you could look him in the eyes. He smirked, and then sheathed himself within you. You let out a cry, and his smirk deepened into a depraved smile. “Yer a good lil’ doll. You can handle us.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined in agreement as they both slowly rocked into you. Every inch of you was set ablaze as they took turns massaging that oh-so-sensitive wall. Cad released your hair, his hand instead sliding down to roll your nipple between two of his fingers. His other hand gripped at your hip, keeping you steady. Embo’s hand returned to your clit, pinching and rolling the overstimulated bud around until you were panting and pleading for release. Your admissions only made them hasten their paces, and soon, they were both slamming into you. Your head lolled back on your useless neck, resting squarely on Cad’s chest; your legs quivered and jerked as you chased after your second orgasm. Hands wandered, acquainting themselves with every aspect of your body; this only added fuel to the fire which threatened to consume you once more.

With only a few more thrusts, you came undone. Your vision went white as you rode waves of pure bliss, only faintly aware of how erratic their paces had become. It wasn’t until Cad lurched forward and bit you that you were pulled from your euphoria.

His fangs pierced your skin, surely drawing blood; his orgasm, contained by the condom, manifested in quick, jerky motions up into you. Slowly, he eased out of you, lapping up any blood that had trickled from the wound.

Embo found his pleasure not long after that, shooting his cum deep within you; the searing heat of his seed was unexpected, but wasn’t unpleasant. You were almost certain that if he hadn’t been wearing his mask, he probably would have bit you too. He, unlike Cad, didn’t ease out of you. He let you decide what it was you wanted to do, even if it meant keeping his soft cock in you until he hardened up again. You did, however, ease off of him to sit on his lap.

“Dat was good, doll. I might need t’ keep ya around.”

“Yes, well, you may have competition.” He leaned toward you, humming. “Though, I suppose it would be your choice.”

“Who says I have to choose?” You managed, your voice sultry. They cast glances at each other, and Cad shrugged.

“‘Spose that could work.”

Taglist!: @sat-nam-saint @that-clone-wars-girl

You leaned back into the warm chest of one of your Princes. Huh. You liked the sound of that. Who would have thought that someone like you could pull two Princes!

-

[babyboywilson]

Tinsel and Tourists Chapter Twenty-One

Word Count: 2,054 (longest chapter yet- chapter continued under the Read More)

Dean’s POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

“Dean,” Sam said, voice quiet as he walked up to him across the snow as Cas limped away.

“Don’t,” Dean threatened, tears burning his eyes. “Just don’t. Because if I have to hear you say I told you so-”

“I would never, Dean,” Sam said, hand coming out to rest on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean shrugged him off before making his way back through the forest towards the Impala, not wanting to be there for another second. He didn’t want to talk; didn’t want to think. Just wanted to drown himself in alcohol until he couldn’t feel the gaping hole in his heart.

They drove in complete silence, and when they got back to the motel, Sam tried again. “I’m sorry, Dean,” he said softly, expression morphing into one of pity.

Grabbing three beers from the fridge, Dean shook his head. “I’m getting some air.” Without waiting for Sam to respond, Dean pushed his way outside, letting the cold air bite his skin and whisk away the tears that stung his cheeks. For a while he sat on the hood of the Impala, draining one beer after another in record speed. But even with the buzz of the alcohol, Dean’s heart still ached in ways he’d never felt before.

Instead of heading back into the motel and facing Sam, Dean climbed into the backseat of the Impala and closed his eyes. He just needed something to ground him, and as the tears silently tracked down his cheeks, he let Baby be his comfort in the agonizing pain. He drifted off into a fitful sleep; nightmares of Cas getting attacked over and over again by the druid as he screamed out for Cas and tried to protect him.

A tap against the window startled Dean awake, leaving him feeling groggy and hungover, and he saw Sam outside; finger against the window. Pulling himself up, Dean rubbed a hand over his face and opened the door.

“We should hit the road. Bobby might have found us a case in Maine,” Sam said. There was still a hint of sympathy in Sam’s tone, as if he wasn’t sure if he should be getting Dean out of the state or encouraging him to stay.

Dean nodded without a word, dragging himself back into the motel and forcing himself into the shower; washing away the stale feeling and the heartbreak.

Twenty minutes later, everything was packed into the Impala and Dean was sitting behind the wheel. The engine was running, and Dean's hands were on the wheel, but he felt frozen in place. He couldn't do it. He couldn't. "Sam, I can't…" Dean whimpered, eyes stinging with tears as he turned his gaze to the passenger seat. "I can't."

He didn't even need to say the words- not that he could even articulate them- but Sam understood. Reaching out, Sam put his hand on Dean's forearm reassuringly. "You love him, don't you?" Sam whispered.

Dean nodded, heart lurching and cracking in his chest. "I'm so fucking in love with him that I can barely breathe," Dean admitted, words lodging in his throat

"Go find him and talk to him. Win him back, Dean."

"I can't. Sam. I can't. The look in his eyes last night… he told me to leave."

"And you're going to accept that and walk away? Who are you? Because that's not my brother. Get off your ass and chase after your man, Dean. Because if you don't, you'll regret it for the rest of your life," Sam said firmly.

"Great pep talk, Sammy."

Sam snorted. "Tough love. Go to the diner and tell him you love him or so help me God I'm feeding you to the next werewolf I come across."

Putting his hands up in defeat, Dean shut the car off and handed the keys to Sam. "Just in case you need them."

"I'll tell Bobby to find another hunter to get the case in Maine," Sam said as Dean climbed out of the car.

Dean speed walked to the diner, dodging past people on the streets; his mind intent on finding Cas. Every single thought in his mind was just Cas, Cas, Cas. God, he was so achingly in love he could feel it deep in his bones. He just needed five minutes- just five minutes to tell Cas he was completely and utterly in love with him.

Pushing his way into the diner, Dean heaved a sharp breath as his lungs burned from the fast walk. His eyes darted around, trying to peer into the kitchen to see if he could spot Cas’ beautiful blue eyes and messy hair. But just as Dean’s gaze settled on Cas and his heart skipped a beat, he was being forcefully grabbed by someone, pulled back towards the entrance with a sharp shove.

“You need to leave. My brother wants nothing to do with you,” a man said, marching Dean out.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah, that’s right. And you’re the asshat who broke my brother’s heart. Get out of here before I break your face,” Gabriel threatened, shoving Dean out the door, causing Dean to stumble and almost lose his footing on the icy snow.

“No! Wait! Please, I can explain. I just- I need five minutes with him. That’s all I’m asking for. I want to explain-”

“Explain what, exactly? That some monster attacked my brother, and you’re some “hero” here to save him?”

“He told you?” Dean asked in shock.

“You mean through the crying? Yeah, he told me. I had to bandage him up when he and Libby made their way back here last night. And let me tell ya, I’m not putting any trust in you either right now,” Gabriel said harshly.

“Please, Gabriel. Please? I’m begging. I just need to tell him-”

“Tell him what? That you’re a liar who kept shit from him? He trusted you, Dean. Do you even get how huge that was for him? No. You probably don’t, do you? Cas has already had his heart broken. He was engaged, and his fiance cheated on him and then humiliated him in the worst way possible. Cas hasn’t trusted anyone since, and he certainly hasn’t gone and fallen in love with anyone. He’s more guarded than a freaking bank vault with his heart. And he let you in, and you utterly destroyed him in ways that made his broken engagement look like child's play,” Gabriel hissed, jabbing a finger in Dean’s chest.

Dean felt the air leave his lungs in a sharp gasp, and his eyes stung. That’s what Cas was going to tell him after their ice skating date. Oh God. Oh God. What had he done? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’m not- you don’t understand. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. I’m so in love with your brother…” Dean trailed off, losing his words for a second as tears choked him, burning his throat. Pulling in a deep breath, Dean kicked at the snow before finally looking back up at Gabriel. “I’m so far gone for Cas it’s unreal. I’ve never- you have to understand,” Dean begged. “I’ve lived my whole life on the road. Hunting is my life. White picket fences and settling down, that was never going to happen for me. But then I met Cas… and I’ve never wanted love more in my entire life. I love him. Please. Just- just let me see him. Even if he doesn’t… want me anymore. I just. I just need him to know it was real. That I couldn’t even force myself to pull out of the motel parking lot and leave without telling him I’m earth-shatteringly in love with him.”

Something in Gabriel’s expression morphed, softening just slightly. “You love him?”

“Yes. God yes,” Dean said quickly. “I’m so in love with Cas I can barely breathe when I’m around him,” Dean admitted, and God, he thought it would be hard to say those words- to admit he was in love- but it wasn’t hard at all. It felt so goddamn right. Falling in love with Cas had felt like driving Baby on backroads; it felt like coming home.

Gabriel nodded slowly, puffing out a breath of air that fogged around them. “Alright, fine. You’ve got five minutes with him, alright? That’s it,” Gabriel said. “Stay here. I’ll go get him.”

And then Gabriel was disappearing back into the diner. He was only gone a couple of minutes, but those two minutes felt like the longest and most agonizing moments of Dean’s life.

The second Cas stepped outside, the air left Dean’s lungs in a sharp gasp and he found himself instantly leaning into Cas’ space before remembering himself; before remembering that Cas wasn’t his anymore.

“Five minutes. That’s it. And then you’re gone,” Cas said stiffly before moving to sit on the closest bench.

Dean hesitated for a second, hovering a few steps away before sitting down next to Cas. “Gabriel said you wanted to explain and had something important to say.”

Slowly, Dean reached out, brushing his fingers along the inside of Cas’ wrist. Cas stuttered out a breath, seemingly forgetting himself, as for a brief second he started to link their hands together, before realizing what he was doing and yanking his hand away.

Dean’s heart shattered in his chest all over again, and he couldn’t stop the whimper from slipping past his lips.

“Cas,” Dean whispered brokenly. “I need you to know- it was real. This. Us. We’re real. My feelings for you, they’re real. I’m devastatingly in love with you, Cas. Absolutely and utterly head over heels in love with you. You- you leave me breathless. I can barely stand to be away from you. I’m so freaking in love with you it aches in my bones. This is the most real thing I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I’m crazy about you. I need you to know, Cas. I need you to know that I’m achingly and madly in love with you,” Dean said, words hovering in the air between them.

Cas sat for a second, completely frozen. And then Dean started to panic. It was too late. He was too late. He'd lost Cas. His entire body began to shake, heart crumbling in his chest.

And then, after a solid minute of silence in which Dean thought he'd lost the best thing that had ever happened to him, Cas spoke up, whispering quietly, “You love me?”

Dean choked on a sob, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Cas’. “I’m so deeply in love with you. From the moment I met you, I was falling for you. But after our date, after our kisses, I’m so far gone for you that I'd propose to you right now if I could. I love you, Cas.”

Cas let out a little whine, leaning into Dean’s touch. Dean’s heart ricocheted in his chest, and he reached out, sliding his hands to Cas’ jaw, tilting his head up. “Let me kiss you? Please God, Cas, please let me kiss you,” Dean babbled, brushing his nose against Cas’ softly.

A sob slipped from Cas’ mouth and he nodded, hands reaching up to grip tightly to Dean’s wrists. “Kiss me.”

Dean lurched forwards, connecting their lips and kissing Cas like he was Dean’s source of air. He kissed and kissed and kissed him, hungrily sliding his tongue into Cas’ mouth and slotting their lips together.

Little soft gasps kept falling out of Cas' mouth, and Dean just kissed him harder, until all he could taste was Cas. Finally, when his lungs were absolutely burning, Dean broke the kiss, gasping for air before pecking Cas several more times on the lips.

"I love you," Dean murmured, pressing the confession against Cas' lips.

Cas' fingers came up and tangled in his hair. "I- I love you, too. Don't leave. Dean please. Don't leave. Stay."

Dean nodded, leaning forward to press another tender kiss to Cas' lips. When he pulled back, he moved to trail his fingertips over the bump at the back of Cas' head. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Cas said slowly. And then, "You owe me the truth, Dean."

"I do." Reaching out, Dean slipped his hand into Cas', head spinning as Cas tangled their fingers together. "What do you want to know?"

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine​ @bibelphegor​ @likepurplemuses​ @expectingtofly​ @neo-neo-neo​ @shadowywerewolfqueen​ @a-sweet-indisposition​ @feraladoration​ @xojo​

@oganizediguana​ @paintdriesfaster​ @adsp-destielcockles​ @destielangst​ @im-your-huckle-berry @justa-crayon​ @dea-stiel​ @superduckbatrebel​ @destielfactory​ @miluiel-erynion​

@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel​ @toxic-nebula​ @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat​ @proudace​ @galaxymysteryelephant​ @aelysianmuse​ @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean

@gmos-winter-wonderland @deansotherotherblog​ @trekkie24 @geo-val​ @dizzypinwheel​ @hermionevaldez9​ @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho​ @dickspeightjrs​ @imbiowaresbitch​

@destielle​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @organicpurplepants​ @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you​ @shut-up-dean​ @sapphirecobalt-1​ @eshaninjer​ @spnobsessed50​ @mishka​ @holygoddessofvictory​​

@jayus-fandom-writer​​ @2musiclover2​​ @rainbowscas @bennedict​ @cassiecasyl​ @jensenacklesruinedmylife​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @chaoticdean​ @destiel-trash-asf​ @tlakhtwritesdestiel​

@bri-winchester​ @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood​ @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

[petre-chose-violence]

The crit they linked is @ enderspawn’s c!techno-critical tag.

Wait, do you mean the entire tag? Did this person went "Just read a book" on you? Like, literally they went "check out this ENTIRE TAG and maybe you'll change your mind" instead of referring to specific points and posts? Bruh. The only way this is not just an elaborate way to say "fuck off" is if the are enderspawn themselves, lmao, but even then it's a dick move

I, mean, I promised to diss these takes, so I'll do my best, but my endurance is not eternal so I will probably not cover the ENTIRE THING.

And to my followers - don't you fucking dare dogpile enderspawn. I know there is probably not enough of you to do that, and I know that a lot of you are reasonable ppl, but if I am wrong about that hear me out - please don’t do any personal attacks and stuff. That’s a no no. Don’t even go and mass disagree with their takes.

Also @ enderspawn, or someone they reblog takes from, if you are reading this, I don't want to start any beef and I have nothing against most of you personally (yet). If you want to respond to this in any way, go ahead. I’m all about having a debate with reasonable people and clowning on unreasonable ones so It’s a win-win for me either way. Also feel free to ignore this if you want, you are not obligated to talk to anybody on the internet. The reason I am doing this is because this anon asked for help, not any form of personal attack.

I am not linking any posts I am responding to because this is more of a c!Techno defense masterpost rather then a diss.

/rp

Ok, formalities out of the way, lets go.

Doomsday Betrayal

So first we have a short take on how it’s wrong to frame Tommy’s betrayal on Doomsday as a betrayal because Techno did the same on Nov 16. This is funny because imagine if I turned it around and said that denying that Tommy’s betrayal is a betrayal while calling Nov 16 that is hypocritical (I actually might do that now). Newsflash - both of these are betrayal, and newflash 2 - an act of betrayal has no inherit moral vailue, it is given to it by context. Techno on Nov 16, Tommy on Doomsday, Quackity joining Pogtopia, Tubbo joining Pogtopia, Punz joining Tommy, Sam joining Tommy, Ranboo apologizing to Techno, Fundy and Niki going against L’manburg on Doomsday - All of these could be put under the “betrayal” umbrella and are good acts at the same time.

Also the difference between these specific examples is that Techno actually contributed to Pogtopia’s cause. /hj

Anyway my take is that Tommy’s betrayal was good for him and his mental health, reconnecting with Tubbo and all that. But, especially considering the circumstances such as being surrounded by enemies and not giving Techno his stuff back, it also was a huge dick move towards Techno and he has every right to be salty.

Also “Tommy apologized” to save his ass after being caught stealing from Techno. “Tommy feels guilty” Techno has no idea.

Technoblade uses his power over people

One of the hypocrisy takes, that for someone who doesn’t like tyranny techno too often uses his power over people to get things his way. Funny because Techno has zero power over people, he can’t even intimidate them properly, the only thing he has going for him is his fighting skill, and a couple of friends as of pretty recent.

Ok, but why using his fighting skills doesn’t make him a tyrant? Because he doesn’t benefit from it. He gets nothing out of destroying tyrannies - no wealth, no power. The only thing he gets from this is a giant neon sign that says “kill this if you want to be a government” over his head. He doesn’t even demand ppl to do something, he just wants them to not 1) be tyrants 2) threaten him, his friends, his pets. There is a difference.

Technoblade doesn’t feel remorse

Except when he does.

Technoblade teamed up with a tyrant and abuser (Dream)

Lol. Yea, Techno had no idea. Going from “Tommy is alone and afraid of an enemy that is much stronger then him in every way” to “Dream abused Tommy” is actually a giant leap to make. Tommy’s “I don’t know if he [Dream] is my friend” could give it away, but again, this just as well could be a complicated relationship.

Same about tyranny bit. For all Techno knows Dream is just some guy who everyone hates for some reason. Nobody ever bothered to tell him that he was a tyrant. “I am more of a president then you” kinda sus, but they were dissing Tubbo there.

And even without that this is a stupid argument because Techno would’ve destroyed L’mnaburg either way, Dre just happened to be offering his help at the time. I mean Tommy also teamed up with Dream for the Battle of the Lake, I don’t see any crit about that.

Holy fuck this is the same post and I am already tired I will return to this after a short break (probaly) in a form of a reblog.

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Complexities Unknowable- Chapter Two

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274334/chapters/55737937

Chapter One Link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/613354402381807616/complexities-unknowable-chapter-one

Masterpost

Relationships: Established Relationship Dukeceit, eventual intrualiceit, background analogince.

Warnings: Remus Says Things, everyone is sympathetic (but there are some misunderstandings and misconceptions about each other at first), food mention, Things will be sad and they will get more sad but then they will get much less sad very quickly as this story progresses (sorry idk how to tag chapter fics??? on tumblr???), cursing, lmk If I missed anything.

Word Count: 1,373

Deceit despised Patton, there was no doubt about that. He didn’t murder-despise him (he wasn’t a monster), but it was still very hard to find anything to like about the things Morality did. And said. And the ways he said it. And especially, especially, the way that sugar-coated empty-headed cotton ball looked at him- like Deceit actually had murdered someone (although Deceit would concede that when those looks were directed at Remus... it was pretty justified).  

But on the subject of things he hated! Being in The Conscious! Whenever he appeared it felt like a million little needles pricking him and reminding him that he was unwelcome. Another con: Deceit struggled without the ability to flow through rooms, undetectable, like in his half of the mindscape. He was far too exposed for his liking. 

Remus, however, loved being topside, and now that word about him was out he was visiting constantly. Remus also loved doing things that were dangerous and hazardous to himself and others when left unsupervised. And Deceit (regrettably) loved Remus. So. 

It was as the snake lifted his head to see a very upset Patton that he began to question if love was worth it, though. This was going to go so well for them.

Deceit had done what he always did when he was thrust into a situation he wanted no part in. He shut his mouth and observed. And instead of yelling at them, or having a fucking heart attack and insisting that Thomas was a terrible person, Patton extended an offer to prolong their time together. Because nothing about Morality was consistent or made even a little sense. 

Deceit had steered Remus away and teleported them back home as soon as they were out of sight. Immediately, Remus turned to him with his hands on his hips and his nose scrunched up. 

“Since when do you care about making a good impression? You love fucking with them! I know I do.”

“Correction: I don’t fuck with them, I make  a formal appearance and explain my point, only to have them act as though I’m fucking with them. I sure love that! My goddamn favorite.”

“Okay, we both know how dramatic you love to get with your ‘formal appearances’. I say split the difference and just drive a screwdriver through his eye; it makes you harder to ignore and it saves you tons of energy! Or show up naked- he’d have a fit!”

“Because I totally wanted to show up in the first place,” Deceit tossed himself onto the couch, (he hardly had to keep up appearances here). Remus flopped down next to him and took up the rest of the sofa without even trying. He wrapped his arms around the other’s middle, right below Deceit’s third set of limbs. 

“I was doing fine on my own!” Remus explained, punctuating the point by burying his face in Deceit’s ribs. 

“Objectively you weren’t.” 

“You know we can’t really hurt each other. I couldn’t have done anything worse than mentally scar Patton!” Remus’ voice was muffled by the fabric of Deceit’s shirt, but he made no move to get up. 

“It’s not them I’m worried about, you moron.”

The snake-like trait heard a tiny gasp from below him. Remus dragged himself up to throw his arms around Deceit’s shoulders.

“Awwww, you care about me, that’s so embarrassing,” he cooed, smashing their lips together messily. He was grinning more softly than usually when he pulled away.

Despite Deceit’s best efforts, a cackle escaped him. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, halfheartedly pushing Remus back. He let himself wrap a few arms around the creative side as his laughter subsided. For a moment, they were calm.

“I wasn’t being serious, by the way. I know you’re absolutely impervious to emotion.”

“I’m fine,” Remus’ response was too quick. 

“Where do you expect to get by lying to me? You think I don’t know why you were so invested in your most recent project? You think I don’t know why you felt the need to crawl up to The Conscious for caffeine instead of conjuring your own rancid brew like usual? I know you’re distracting yourself, Honey.” 

The other trait was silent for an uncomfortable stretch. When he spoke next, it was barely more than a whisper.

“... Sorry, Dee.”

That shook Deceit down to his core. He couldn’t bring himself to be upset at Remus, and he wouldn’t dare think of any of this as his fault. The protective side pulled him up to look him dead in the eyes. 

“Hey- look at me. I’m not angry. Don’t ever think that I’m mad at you for missing your br- for missing him.” 

Slowly, Remus nodded, and Deceit let go of his face. “We don’t need to talk about it,” the reptilian amended. 

If Remus had made him talk all the times that he’d been overflowing with emotion. All the times he’d sworn on his life it wasn’t because he missed Virgil, but of course it was. If Rem had forced him to drag it all out, rather than just holding him close and letting him distract himself- Deceit was sure he would have died by now. So he returned the favor.

He heard the hitching of Remus’ breath as the trait tried desperately to fight down sobs, but he didn’t say anything. It was impossible not to hold some resent for the “light sides”, when this is what they did to them. When this is what they were left with.

He held Remus close and never, ever wanted to let go.

Before long, Deceit had put on a film to occupy their minds. One of their mutual favorites- Pan’s Labyrinth. They’d been completely immersed in the movie before being so rudely interrupted by a certain someone. A certain someone who was somehow an even better cook than Deceit had presumed. Despite such, he would not be swayed. 

Remus, however, looked pretty damn swayed.

“That was weird, huh?” He stated, chomping on cookies (he’d seemed in much better spirits over the past half-hour, thankfully). Deceit merely raised his eyebrows, still standing in the middle of the room. 

“Not a bit out of the ordinary whatsoever,” he double-spoke, too preoccupied with thought to focus on talking front-ways,  “In fact, I don’t think he was put off by your assertion that he’s not usually ‘nice’. He doesn’t seem like the defensive type, does he?” 

Remus shrugged, flopping face-first down into the couch and grabbing the remote.

“Whatever, now we have movie-watching snacks! They could use more finger-nail clippings, but other than that they’re almost as good as mine!” 

Deceit didn’t respond. He paced the floor, tapping his fingers against his leg. Distantly, he was aware of Remus rambling about something or other- but he couldn’t think about that now. There was a very promising opportunity to consider here, if he could just gather it all together.

“Dee-Dee?” Remus had sat up now, leaning forward to peer curiously at the plotting side.

“Mhm.” Deceit muttered automatically. 

“Hey, Budget Scalesona!”

“I agree completely.”

“Dee!” 

Deceit’s head snapped up to look at Remus, whose face was split with a wide grin. He was practically hanging off of the arm of the couch.

“You’re scheming, aren’t you? You’ve got your scheming face on,” he said with delight, “What are we gonna do? How gory do you want it to get?”

“Nothing like that, you sadist, I’m just... thinking.” It was only about 35% sadistic, but who didn’t love to indulge in a little schadenfreude every now and then? If Patton wanted to know why they weren’t huge fans of his, well, then they’d just have to show him. It would be all too easy to get under his skin, get a nice outburst from him that would show him just how mean he could be. The best way to get to Thomas would certainly be his heart (nevermind the old saying, as the closest thing they had to a stomach side would be the insatiable pit that was Remus).  

“I think we’ll have to finish this film later, Dearest,” Deceit hissed, smirking rather slyly.

Remus sighed dreamily, leaning his chin on his hands.

“You’re so hot when you’re planning revenge.”

Chapter Three Link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/616160448347275265/complexities-unknowable-chapter-3

[frankie-catfish-morales]

Okay. My issues & fave things for Frozen 2 - Masterpost.

Spoilers and negativity beyond the cut. But also positivity! Cause I did like some things.

- The Negatives - 

1. I have serious qualms about the notion that Elsa doesn’t feel like she “belongs” in Arendelle. With her sister. And the family they built. The reason for this is simple. Every single piece of canon that has ever been produced by this franchise has said otherwise. They were separated 10 years (ish). They never wanted to be apart again. As recently as TWO YEARS ago (probably not that long in the movie timeline) Disney produced a short emphasizing their built family, and how home is wherever Anna is. Olaf gets lost in the woods, the wilderness, and they have to go find him because they all belong together. Elsa shows literally no interest in the woods nor being in the wilderness. She then proceeds to sing “When We’re Together” with Anna, and sings this TO Anna:

It frankly feels to me like they forgot what this franchise was all about and the foundations that they have been building it on. Elsa and Anna. Together. The way they have written these characters, to me, is not convincing that they would EVER wish to separate. 

You can argue to me that “Elsa isn’t that far away”. Yes, that is true. She could ice luge down the hill and see Anna and the fam. But you know what else wasn’t that far away? Elsa’s room. Separate is separate. Living with someone with no shut doors and not living with someone but visiting sometimes is not the same. And the characters have stated several times across four releases of visual media and COUNTLESS Disney produced merch that they do not wish to separate. Ever. It’s not just how it has been written.

Now,  I can understand the idea that they were trying to communicate that Elsa was feeling unfulfilled, but it is 100% contradictory with every other piece of literature about this story they have put out, so to me, it made no sense character arc wise. It  was too sudden for it to come up right now, rushed in an opening song for the final movie. Olaf’s Frozen Adventure didn’t come out that long ago, so to me this feels like a complete 180. 

Perhaps what they were trying to say in this movie is that if Elsa didn’t leave, Anna would never allow herself to have a fucking life. You can see this possibly in the scene where Anna leaves with Kristoff without saying anything, and trying to insist on coming with Elsa even if it’s pretty clear she would be in serious danger. You can also see this a bit in the lyrics to “The Next Right Thing”:

“I follow you around I always have But you've gone to a place I cannot find”

“I don't know anymore what is true I can't find my direction, I'm all alone The only star that guided me was you How to rise from the floor When it's not you I'm rising for?” 

Anna does put Elsa before anyone and anything else, even herself. But if THAT is what they are trying to say, they are basically saying Anna and Elsa’s relationship is and has been toxic, or having toxic qualities, and that’s really saying fucked up shit about the whole franchise. Especially because there are so many fans out there who really connected with that aspect of Frozen.

2. I am, quite frankly, really TIRED of the trope that powerful magical women *can’t* be queens. Because they don’t “belong”, because they are “out of touch”, because they need to leave, they need to die (*cough* Daenerys Targaryen), or that they were “mad” or not good for society. That their strength is too much for them to be in society or be a queen. I think it’s quite empowering that Elsa feels free, but I do not like the concept that she couldn’t feel free and be a good queen. That she abdicated and basically rolled out, extremely rushed and in a moment where a lot was already happening. It’s like her being queen in the first place wasn’t even important. And no, she is NOT queen of the Northumbra (I will go into this assertion in my next bulletpoint).  You aren't just automatically queen of something when you aren't coronated or acknowledged by who you are ruling as such in any fashion.  I highly doubt the Native population would make some white girl they just met their queen. Elsa stepped down, and she is now a liaison between the enchanted forest and Arendelle. She’s an ambassador, and Anna is now Queen. Which, if we took the implications out of it, would be fine. I don’t dislike Anna. She’s grown so much, she’d be a wonderful queen. I just think Elsa should still be queen. Elsa can still be a liaison between the realms. Who better to be queen than a woman who is a liaison and has the interests of Arendelle, the Enchanted Forest, and the elements? You can tell me “She didn’t want to be Queen!” as much as you want, but lets get really into the facts here. She suddenly “didn’t want to be queen” because she was written that way. It could have been written differently and would have been in character.

It bothered me so much that Disney Parks thought it was a good idea for the face characters in the parks to come out in the final outfits literally ONE DAY before the movie came out. I had this plot aspect spoiled to me (and I’m not in the spoiler culture but that was a really big plot point to spoil so lets get real here, I’m allowed to be upset) because people posted pictures of Anna in her crown with the tags # Queen Anna, before the movie was even released. I immediately didn’t like it, but I wanted to try and stay positive that it would be convincing, but it honestly just continued to rub me wrong. It feels like they were trying to get cheap “YAS KWEEN” moments for both the Elsa fandom and the Anna fandom, and I felt like it was empty and unnecessary. Anna is a badass regardless. She didn’t need that for a “YAS KWEEN” moment. She has quite a few incredible, powerful, and strong AF moments. I  love her without that.

3. I mentioned in point 2 that “Elsa is not queen of the Northumbra.” The reason I mentioned that is because a friend of mine thought that and was confused. Which brings me to my 3rd point. The mythology and plot that they constructed for this movie was extremely confusing, didn’t explain enough, and had too many plot-holes. That friend and a few of the people she saw the movie with thought Queen Iduna was Queen of the Northumbra. She wasn’t. Another thought she had wind powers. She doesn’t. She was just playing in the wind elemental when Agnarr saw her.

Some more questions:

Did literally none of the Northumbra know their chief was murdered?! Why wasn’t that ever brought up if they did now, and if they didn’t, why didn’t they remember? 

How did the kingdom of Arendelle not realize what sea Queen Iduna and King Agnarr were sailing to? Why would this have never come up before? Oh, Anna and Elsa, your parents were on the way to Rapunzel’s wedding or Tarzan world, but then turned around and set sail on this completely separate, very dangerous sea and we never told you. This, to me, is why the movie was poorly written, no one has any fucking idea what actually happened in some scenes.

4. Speaking of Queen Iduna, if she is Northumbra, and she is used to being around elemental magic ALL THE TIME, why did she react to Elsa’s powers at first the way she did? Why did she interpret the troll’s advice the way she did? WHy did she support and enable Elsa’s father shutting her up and away when she know’s first hand the elementals were good and what those powers could do? 

And like the whole movie was supposed to be why Elsa had magic and I still have no idea. That was not explained well. She's the 5th element? Ice isn't an element. Ice is water. If she’s an element, is she going to die? Or when Anna dies is she going to live forever as an elemental-human hybrid wandering the woods sobbing like Arwen Undomiel was cautioned of? Is it was because her mom saved her dad, linking the two nations? Her good deed gave her power? Like Harry Potter? Okay, but why ice specifically. Anna said that Elsa was “the last piece”. But of what? Of the elements? Again, ice isn’t an element. Ice is water. Water was covered. Was it because she had to right the wrong of the grandfather building the dam and killing the chief of Northumbra? But Anna destroyed the dam with the elementals. Was it so she could find out the truth about what happened? She could have done that without ice powers. Why was it ice? What was the significance of the cave Alhalla (Alhambra?)? Why could she only find out the answers there? Why are we supposed to believe Elsa wants to routinely hang out in a secluded ice cave that is a huge downgrade from her awesome ice castle instead of being with her sister? Is it cause her mother is there? Who is family? So why can’t she lie with Anna, her other family, and visit the cave when she wishes?

The concept of elements and Elsa having some sort of relationship to it, the IDEA is so good, I just was seriously disappointed in how it was executed. I think the only explanation we have here is: “the spirits gave her her powers to unite everyone." And that wasn’t enough for me. WHY ICE THO. 5. I did not, at all, in any way, like when Elsa saw that memory of her singing “Let It Go” and was like, embarrassed of it? Like, “Oh my godddd I did that, how EMBARRASSING....”......That moment means so much to a lot of people, and I felt like that was really OOC and kinda disrespectful. That song is an anthem for people with mental issues and people in the LGBTQ community and it just felt wrong to me. Did NOT like that.

6. I really really wish that Anna x Kristoff AND Anna x Elsa had a longer duet than what was in “Some Things Never Change” and the lullaby reprise. Their voices together are BEAUTIFUL. I think it a missed opportunity, especially when reunited with Elsa and Kristoff. Anna could have had a brief duet with Elsa, and then with Kristoff when he proposes, and then they all sing together for a finale into Anna’s coronation. I am aware there is a duet with Anna and Kristoff in the Delue edition but the version is pretty rough and, it didn’t make it into the film so I’m not counting it.

- The Positives - 

1. The character development. I must confess that I was not a Frozen fan when it first came out. I think I saw it, wasn’t too impressed, then went to Walt Disney World in December 2014, became so over-saturated with Frozen fever literally taking over EVERYTHING, that I became annoyed and resistant. I did re-watch it several times months later to try and get back on board, but I always felt like the plot in the middle was weak, meandered with no purpose, and the whole “Anna wasn’t saved by a man” (which she was. She wouldn’t have gotten to Elsa at all without Kristoff. She would have died in the snow) was less powerful because everyone was acting like Brave didn’t happen. Like it was the first movie to have someone saved by true love through someone other than a love interest. But I’m not re-visiting that shit, I just wanna enjoy Frozen for what it is and gave me positively, which is what I’m gonna do with Frozen 2 when I cathartically post this. The reason I’m going into this is because, I wasn’t expecting strong writing with the plot of Frozen 2, because of the precedent set. But I was SO excited, so HYPE, I literally went day after opening. One thing  I WAS expecting the themes to remain true to the franchise, but we won’t discuss that again. I grew to love Elsa deeply through my own struggle with mental illness (anxiety, depression, adhd). Apparently I have a lot in common with her too. Consuming her in other forms (Frozen on Broadway, Once Upon a Time, meeting her in the Parks) deepened her character and made her more understandable. And Anna. OOF. Was not a fan at all. But I LOVE her now too.  And in this movie. WOW. They were so amazing and rich, and brave, badass, strong, flawed, relatable, and the GROWTH. The way they reacted to things, even if I didn’t like most plot points, was done so well. It really felt like them even though a huge growth jump happened. I could see how they got from A to B. The character writing (other than the things mentioned earlier) was very strong and I’m proud to say I love them so much more after this movie.

2. The music. I have never particularly liked Idina’s voice but she sounds SO amazing, unique, memorable, emotional, vulnerable, and open in both of her songs. 

“Show Me” is personally my favorite, and that whole sequence was just fucking breath-taking, the message so special. Seeing her break down all her walls during that song journey was one of the best parts of the movie. I’ve been dealing with A LOT lately, and this song really just made me feel like things might work out if I continue to be strong and believe in myself, if only for a few minutes.

“Into the Unknown” was such a great tease as being the best Elsa song, and I love that they added that wacky Norwegian singer Aurora in there. I just didn’t particularly like some of the lyrics about Elsa feeling like she didn’t belong. Explained above. 

Olaf’s “This is Fine” song had me smiling so big and is quite literally an eternal mood. *insert Brooklyn 99 “I’m such a Samantha”.gif* “Some Things Never Change” was a great intro song, I love when the 4 get to duet together, though some of Elsa’s lyrics, again, not a fan. 

Anna’s song, despite the things mentioned above, was honestly the most powerful song to me. It’s not something that makes me feel good, or something I will be able to listen to often. But, as someone who struggles with depression and finding the motivation to do anything when something scary or terrible happens, this song was so sososososoosososoososo fucking important to hear. I was crying. I started crying when Olaf poofed and I kept crying through this song.

But by far, the greatest part of this movie, was Kristoff’s 90′s Poison-inspired power ballad. I was fucking CRYING with laughter. SO so good. I have been waiting for a song for Jonathan Groff and this was NOT a disappointment. The backup singers. The imagery! THE BACKUP SINGERS.

3. The beauty. It was just beautiful. Like I don’t know what else to say. The animation was gorgeous. Stunning. I’m in awe.

Other things:

- Olaf giving the recap to the Northumbra

- THAT scene with Anna and Olaf

- Elsa’s hair journey

- ELSAMAREN RIGHTS

- ELSA TAMING THE NOKK

-  When Kristoff finally proposes

- KRISTOFF’S FINAL LOOK. A WHOLE SNACK.

- BRUNI. BRUNI IS BABY.

- The fact that Elsa’s sexuality was left open ended, with the possibility for Elsamaren to be a thing. If they couldn’t outright make her gay, I think this was a good way to keep everyone happy. You could really continue her story anywhere.

Like I said earlier, I’m gonna get over this super fast. It’s Disney, and I’m not trying to get all riled up for months like I did over some TRULY terrible writing. I just wanted to get my annoyances out. I’ve already listened to this soundtrack 6 times in a row, have learned the lyrics to show yourself, and am almost in the mood to see it again. Maybe in a little bit.

Anyways, THAT IS ALL OF IT FOR NOW. I may add more BS later. If  you disagree, that’s fine, but I’m not really going to fight with people about this. I just wanted to get my thoughts out and reach out to other people who were maybe a little disappointed.

[patsdrabbles]

He’s Mine

Title: He’s Mine Fandom: The Traveling Wilburys Pairing: Bob Dylan/George Harrison Rating: Gen Word Count: 2402 Summary: There was a woman standing in the hyacinth flowerbed. An in-universe AU of my WIP Dylarrison fanfic “Planting Trees”; things don’t happen/get revealed like that in the main fic. The gist is the following: Bob is between a broken engagement and a new album that needs to be written and escaped to a mansion he bought in the middle of an English forest. There he meets George, who has explanations for everything. But some things are for Bob to be found out on his own. A/N: Part 20 of my Daily Fanfic Chocolates calendar :D For the prompt “’my current partner is a huge asshole and I need a reason to break up with them, so will you pretend to be my possessive and violent ex’ + Dylarrison” sent to me by both @savoy-brown-shoe and @siliconpine! I put a little twist on it, but I hope that’s alright! ^^ Please enjoy ❤

(links to AO3 and the DFC masterpost are in the reblogs!)

There was a woman standing in the hyacinth flowerbed.

Bob knew so, because he spotted her first on his walk with George through the garden. George had wanted to teach him more about the plants growing here and their proper care, and Bob had found it all too easy to agree.

Instead of learning about flowers now, however, they approached the woman, who just remained where she stood as they got closer.

It was the fur coat that should have told him, Bob later thought in retrospective.

It was the honey-voiced yet sharp “Bob!” that made him realize that trouble was ahead.

Before the bafflement left him, enabling him to utter the important question of what the hell she was doing here, in England, George already spoke up.

“And who’s that, standing in my hyacinths?”

George frowned and Bob had never seen him so pissed off before. Huh. Maybe he did have a chance of getting out alive of this after all.

“That’s... Macy. The woman I cheated on my ex-fiancée with like an idiot.”

George halted, then nodded knowingly when he remembered – one of the few things they both remembered of their recent drunk late-night conversation.

“Macy–” George started, then paused for a moment, not knowing her last name and regretting the loss of emphasis his address had because of it. “Firstly, I would kindly ask you to get out of my hyacinths.”

She shrugged carelessly, but stepped out of the flowerbed at last. Bob expected George to relax thereafter, but he was clearly mistaken. The tension in George’s shoulders only seemed to increase as he stepped closer towards her.

“And secondly, I would ask you to leave right now and not return, before I get really angry.”

She laughed.

She laughed in his face and showed off teeth that suddenly frightened Bob. They looked canine, and for a split moment, he could have sworn that her eyes flashed yellow and her fingernails were literally sharp as razor blades. He instinctively took as step back.

“Sure, dearie.”

She gave George a put-on lascivious grin and once-over that made Bob want to gag. She was gorgeous, yes, and it had been the last straw to doom his already doomed relationship, but now that he saw her in the daylight? Quite frankly, she was scaring him. And his list of reasons as to why currently kept growing by the minute.

“But I’m not gonna leave without dear Bobby here.”

She said it in a way that would have a bystander think that she was simply implying having a good time, but there was an undertone to her voice that told him that he was a dead man if he followed her. Potentially, literally dead.

“Well, sorry luv’, but I don’t think so.” George’s voice had dropped quiet, but it had a dangerous undertone.

“Dear ‘Bobby’ here... he isn’t going anywhere. Lest of all with you.”

A low, rumbling sound started to fill the air, and it took Bob a handful of seconds to realize that Macy was growling.

“Is that so?” she asked, and when had she moved to stand face to face to him?

Suddenly, faster than his vision could comprehend, a hand grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and he was being yanked forward.

“You’ll thank me, trust me,” she said with a honeyed voice as her grip on Bob’s shirt tightened.

She only got one step farther before George stood right in front of them, hissing. And fucking hell, had his teeth always been so damn sharp?

“He’s mine, and you are going to let go off him this instant, or you’re not going to leave this place alive.”

For some reason, Bob knew that he wasn’t making empty threats and a shiver ran down his spine.

Without a word of warning, he found himself yanked out of Macy’s hold and pushed behind George and thereby out of her reach. Which was good, because the very next moment, George was already pinning her to a tree with both his hands as she struggled against his grasp. Her fur coat seemed to blur, and Bob squinted, not sure if he had gone insane or was simply panicking.

But in the end, there was no denying the fact that Macy, the woman, had just turned into a huge... wolf?

The wolf was still struggling against George, but his grip didn’t only look vice-like but seemingly was it, as well, and he didn’t let go of her once.

“You will leave this place. You won’t ever return here, either.” He leaned in and let his teeth flash again, staring sternly into the eyes of the wolf who Bob was only then beginning to comprehend was Macy.

The wolf – Macy – turned her head to the side, trying to evade his gaze.

“He is mine to enjoy and you won’t get a bite of him, not now, nor ever.” George turned his head and gave Bob a soft smile that made Bob get weak in the knees for a multitude of reasons. He wasn’t anyone’s anything but he wouldn’t correct George; he could see what game he was playing. “I know a good thing when I see one and you? Are late.”

George leaned in and bared his teeth again, and for the first time since Macy’s unexpevted appearance, the cogwheels in Bob’s head began to turn, and he finally, finally began to understand a good amount of things about George – including the reason why Macy had overtaken herself when she decided to challenge him.

George was not the janitor’s son. Or perhaps he was, but then his dad must have died a very, very long time ago.

Bob had a lot of questions, but all of them disappeared to the back of his mind when George simply picked up the wolf – Macy – and marched her right off the grounds. Hesitantly, unwilling to end up being torn into literal pieces, Bob followed the two of them. He should probably be running, leave before George returned, but for some reason, he wasn’t worried about him. He found that he was the opposite of scared. He felt save with George.

George’s hold on Macy didn’t loosen for a single moment, and by the time the house behind them had noticeably shrunk in size, she was starting to transform back into her human shape.

“Rrrrrgh – let go of me!” were her first words, but George just shrugged.

“You came into my house, young lady–” He grinned, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You play by my rules, and those are to be nice.”

She just snorted and he shook his head as if he were disappointed by her. “Trust me, I could have hurt you if I wanted to – and you really made me want to earlier – but... I won’t.”

She kicked against his shin then but he simply kept walking. Bob didn’t have words to describe what he was feeling right then, but it was an odd mixture of pride and awe and relief.

When George set her down, he kept hold of her with one hand, which seemed to be enough to keep her in place. That came as a relief to Bob since now she wasn’t only throwing George deadly glances, but him, as well. This time around, however, he didn’t take a step back. He remained where he stood with a safe distance to the two of them and kept watching.

“How sweet. Your food is already following you.” Macy laughed. “Does he know that if you want to, you can kill him? That he won’t be a forever-young rock star if you decide against keeping him?” She looked George in the eye and smiled. “You know that he used to be quite famous, right? Are you up to date on the music scene? Because that man was quite something... ten years ago or so.”

It’s a stab at him but Bob couldn’t have cared any less. George already knew who he was, had for a while. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like George was going to make a go for his blood anyway. Bob was pretty sure of that, although he wouldn’t have been able to explain why.

“Or do you maybe want your own, personal... rough-voiced songbird?” Macy raised an eyebrow, looking genuinely interested now.

George remained silent for a moment, then shook his head.

“I don’t owe you an answer, and I hope you’re aware of that.”

She grinned. “But...?”

“He has other skills that are worth keeping him around for... for now.”

She laughed, and this time it sounded genuine. Meanwhile, George’s tone of voice wasn’t the only thing that had had a shiver run down Bob’s spine. No, much rather it was the implication of George’s lie that had caused Bob’s breath to hitch.

“Look, I’ve spent a lot of time and money following old Bobby here.” She looked around herself with an evaluating glance. She also seemed to see or smell something in the trees at their side, judging by her tilted head and suddenly narrowing eyes. “Allow me to go on a hunt on these grounds – I’m assuming they belong to the mansion? – and I’ll go. Sounds fair?”

George remained quiet for a moment, then nodded.

“I’d hardly call showing up on someone’s flowerbed and demanding his lover fair, but I see where you are coming from. But these are Bob’s grounds, not mine. You’ll need to get his permission.”

Their gazes met, and George nodded gently once Macy had turned her head to look at Bob.

She grinned, and her teeth were sharp, and Bob just wanted for her to be gone.

He lifted his shoulders in a slow shrug and murmured: “Sure, go ahead. But don’t kill off the entire forest population, alright?”

He already anticipated another one of her laughs, but instead, George spoke up again.

“You swear on your life to stand by your word? You get to hunt on the grounds today, but you won’t ever get closer to the mansion than this.” He pointed at the section of the road they were standing on. “And you won’t ever return here after today, nor follow Bob ever again?”

She looked back at Bob for a moment, then at George again, and smiled tightly.

“You have my word.”

George nodded and let go of her. She kept standing in front of him for a moment, considering her next move, and looked toward the forest again.

“Alright. Goodbye then.”

She turned around and left to their right, turning into her wolf form the very second she broke into a run.

George and Bob remained standing in the middle of the street for a long, silent moment.

“I... cheated on my ex-fiancée with a murderous wolf?” Bob finally managed to get out.

You told her I was your lover? was what he wanted to ask as well, but didn’t.

“Yes?” George eyed him carefully, waiting for the other shoe to drop and Bob starting to run away. He honestly wouldn’t have blamed him.

But that moment never came.

“Thank you, George. That was–” Bob met his eyes and gave him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

When neither of them said anything further, Bob pointed toward the mansion with a movement of his head. “Let’s get back, huh?”

They slowly made their way back, George constantly checking the woods to their sides for movement, but relieved that there was none, and Bob walking quietly next to him, mostly staring at the ground, lost in thought.

Back inside the mansion, however, Bob stopped walking the moment they both had crossed the threshold.

“You are not going to kill me. Even though you are a vampire or something like that and easily could.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

George took in Bob for a moment. He should have known Bob better, trusted him more. He wasn’t sure when he could ever have brought up the matter of “by the by, I’m undead”, though. It didn’t matter anymore anyway; Bob knew now. And he was still there and trusted him.

“I won’t. And yes I am and could, but I won’t. You don’t know how hard I tried not to, and now I found a way, and–”

“George, you’re babbling.”

Bob was smiling and George took a deep breath.

“I’m sure you have a few questions.”

“I have a great load of ‘em. But that can wait for later. For now, just– Thank you again. I didn’t know what Macy was till earlier, and you saved my life, literally.”

Also, you are really strong? And you said I was your lover in a way that convinced even me it was true for a second? was what Bob didn’t say but thought as he saw what had happened pass again in his mind’s eye. He had been a hell of a lucky bastard, having had George by his side when Macy had appeared.

He was a hell of a lucky bastard to have George by his side, full stop.

Even though it was as a friend and not, as George had implied for the sake of his subterfuge and keeping Bob safe, as a lover.

There was still the matter of George’s former fiancée.

And even that aside... Bob was unsure if George really reciprocated those – he would have had to admit to it to himself eventually anyway, so he might just do it today – feelings he was starting to develop for the other man.

George gave him a soft smile. “It’s alright.”

He looked at Bob with a concerned gaze, and only then did Bob realize that he was shaking.

George spoke up again. “I could go collect some herbs in the garden, but...” He shook his head. “I trust she’ll stay away from the mansion and, more importantly, you now, but... Better not take any risks.”

Bob raised an eyebrow in question as George’s gaze got lost in the distance and he scratched his chin.

“I think we have a tea in the kitchen that should do the job, though, as well.”

George smiled as he reached for Bob’s hand and took it in his.

“C’mon, let’s get something for the nerves.”

Bob followed him – trusting him with his life, in fact, and shaking more than before now that George’s colder hand held his own hand, gently.

[winterheart17]

How To Make A Writer Snap

TITLE OF STORY: How To Make A Writer Snap

CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Part 28

AUTHOR: winterheart17

WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Loki

STORY GENRE: Romance, Drama, Erotica

STORY SUMMARY: I think we can all just agree this has turned into a proper series even though it started off as a compilation of one shots for my story ‘How To Love A Writer’! What happens when a struggling virginal historical romance writer and the God of Mischief are thrown together, locked in a mansion and agree to a game of love and seduction?

STORY RATING: M

STORY WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: None for this!

FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Finally back after a hiatus! There’s not long now till this series ends and all I can say is, boy, oh, boy, it was difficult wading back into the writing pool, but I hope I made all of you proud of Little Writer this chapter! Feedback would be wonderful and ever inspiring for writing updates! <3 Do let me know if anyone would like to be on or off the tag list.

Tagging @devikafernando @ureyesonly21 @nuggsmum @queen-sands @ihatespoilerss @say-my-name-assbut @hsvbabe @jrubalcaba @dandelionlady96  @ashleyloveslots  @kiera-auroraborealis @alexakeyloveloki @damageditemm @lokilvrr @cuteandnerdythings @everythingeverywherelistening@wildest-dreams-at-midnight @tfwqueenidjit @xxxprettydeadgirlxxx @noplacelikehome77 @vertdragain  @jessiejunebug @toaster-strudel-witch @a7xlizardqueen @starscreamloki @tinchentitri @prettyjewel93@chantimoondancer @dangertoozmanykids101 @winterisakiller @humbleslvt @aeciru @paanchu786

Masterpost of How To Love A Writer

Alternate link to Masterpost of How To Love A Writer (in case the above doesn’t work)

“And was it a misunderstanding when Halwen delivered the news to me – the breaking of the betrothal… a treaty years in the making – instigated by your son, Loki, with no other explanation other than a… Midgardian girl is involved?”

He said the word Midgardian with so much vile contempt, I couldn’t help but flinch.

Right.

Well… if that wasn’t some whole new level arrogant ass bullshit I had to just sit through.

What? I was beginning to think all ethereal beings were cut from the same cloth save for the one right next to me.

And as much as I wanted to shovel is words back into his mouth – insert internal eyeroll at his attempt to intimidate him – there wassomething pervasively withering about his glare.

It was almost as if I was nothing more than a schoolgirl getting a dressing down in front of the entire school.

“Answer me,” he said, sharply.

I couldn't help it – my eyes darted instinctively to Loki, who for once, was looking at me, intently. Studying me.

Curious as to what would appear from my lips.

Breath caught in my throat as I found myself unable to decipher what laid beyond the expression on his face.

“Here we go again,” Thor muttered beneath his breath and I found some small measure of comfort in them.

I was just about to sneak him a sly smile – one that conveyed I was completely commiserating with him when a fist thumped the table.

The sudden and loud noise reverberated around the hall – causing me to jump in my seat as it yanked my attention back to him.

Impatience donned his face as he leaned forward, and I found myself thinking wistfully what a shame it was that a veil of cruelty loomed in the shadows and planes of his face. He would have been breathtakingly beautiful.

Starlit eyes framed by thick regal-like bushy brows that were about five shades too dark for his hair. On any other, it would have looked like a botched job at the salon. But all it did was accentuate his eyes and served as a stark contrast to his bright, luminous skin I could only liken to silk spun of moonlight.

It appeared, the Universe wasn’t fair.

Of course, ethereal assholes had to be unnervingly beautiful while carrying out their assholery.

“Did you think you could rival my daughter – a princess?” he sneered and it took every bit of me not to roll my eyes in retort.

“Why not?” I muttered, annoyed, under my breath instead – thinking no one else would have caught it only to be rewarded with a low chuckle from the entity I had almost forgotten was beside me.

Ehrendil slammed his fist on the table once more.

But this time, I didn’t jump.

As strange as it was, all the fear that had thrummed in my veins just moments ago seemed to have vanished – dissipated as liquid anger began to filter in.

Anger at being mistreated.

Anger at being talked down to.

Anger at being despised over something I had completely no power over.

And so I sat there – straightening my spine, nugget by nugget until I met his gaze simmering low with anger, head-on.

“What did you say?” he asked, brusquely, placing both hands on the table.

I almost laughed. What was this display – the equivalent of a dog puffing up its chest?

Shushed murmurs rippled across the crowd.

It was clear – he wasn’t looking for an answer.

This was a challenge.

The sensible thing would have been to remain tight-lipped.

Stay low.

Bite my tongue.

My gaze drifted towards Loki.

I couldn't help it.

He still drew me in like a moth to a flame.

Speak up.

Speak up.

Speak up.

I couldn’t dampen the yearning I felt for him – could barely contain the burning I felt in my chest as I longed for him to say something.

Do something.

But I saw it.

Saw the barely discernible tilt of his chin and growing caution in his eyes that warned me against it.

Not another word, little writer.

I could almost hear his voice in my head.

And it felt like lead in my throat.

There it was – that familiar sting behind my eyes.

I shouldn’t have been surprised – I really shouldn't have. But even after all this time – he still found ways to let me down.

Fuck you.

I swallowed it.

Pushed it down.

There would be a time and place for me to scream and shout and cry and grieve – this was not the time.

Perhaps it was the squaring of my jaw; perhaps it was the hardening in my eyes – but he shook his head – visibly this time with eyes widened – as the realization of what I was about to do dawned upon him.

Too late.

“I said why not?” I snapped, head swiveling back to face Ehrendil.

It was as if the entire crowd drew a huge collective gasp.

The audacity, I could hear them whisper.

The nerve.

Yes, my goddamn fucking nerve.

Shock flickered in those starlit eyes just for a fraction of a second before stirrings of rage settled in. The corners of my lips turned up ever so slightly in cynicism – there was no denying the punch of satisfaction in my gut.

He slammed both hands on the table – in a manner that was quickly becoming reminiscent of a petulant child who was not getting his way.

“What did you say?” he repeated once again, his voice a low stricken bellow.

I exhaled impatiently – making a show of it to aggravate.

“God, are you deaf?” I snapped.

I could have sworn I heard a choke beside me – and an additional few throughout the hall.

I could have also sworn Ehrendil almost fell off his seat. Odin too, by the looks from my peripheral vision.

Good.

“I… said…,” I reiterated, pushing my chair back, slowly.

Deliberately.

Locking gazes with him, I drew out the sound of its legs scraping across the floor.

Grating it on his nerves.

“…why not?” I finished, an eyebrow raised.

And there I was – standing tall, full and proud with a spine that no longer wanted to shrink in places I would rather forget.

Silence.

Shock.

I don’t think anybody dared breathe.

He froze.

Almost as if unable to comprehend what had just transgressed.

I pursed my lips.

Head held high.

Reveling in feeling as if I was finally standing in the sun after months of being tucked away like a shameful, dirty secret.

A tremble.

And then – like a drop of red paint in water, anger spread across his skin – mottling moonlight silk and tainting it with fury.

“You dare speak to me in such a manner?” he roared.

“Why? Just because you plucked a crown out of thin air, placed it on your head and called yourself a King?” I retorted.

Another choke.

Though I’m pretty sure it came from Loki’s direction this time, who stood up abruptly with so much force, it sent his chair clattering backwards.

“King Ehrendil, please forgive her – she knows not what she speaks of,” he jumped in, bowing ever so slightly in Ehrendil’s direction.

I wanted to hurl.

When was he relegated to something so weak and meek?

I opened my mouth, but Loki shot me a sharp glare and a warning shake of his head.

He gestured at me with his hand, beckoning for me to lower myself as a humbling act in front of the arrogant king.

Over my dead body.

Glaring back at him, I squared my jaw.

He’d be a fool to think I would continue holding my tongue.

I turned back to Ehrendil, who was trembling with rage in his seat at his very moment.

“Why should I respect someone who can’t even raise their own child right?” I blasted, throwing my hand out in Halwen’s direction.

Glancing over at her, I wanted to laugh palpably at the pathetic imagery of her hand on her chest in feigned shock.

At her affronted facial expression.

At the damsel in distress act she still insisted on pulling.

“Father, I--…,” she immediately responded in that saccharine voice only to have Ehrendil hold up his hand, cutting her off.

“You dare speak of my daughter in such a manner?” he growled.

“Oh, please. I think you can do away with the theatrics as we’ll all agree that theydon’t work on me,” I bit out.

I didn’t think it was possible for him to grow redder.

But he did.

“Guards!” he roared.

Still, I didn’t flinch.

Quite frankly, I was beyond the point of caring.

Throw me in a cell for all I care – it wasn’t as if I wasn’t being thrown around like a ragdoll at the rate they were going.

“Ah, I see. So, that’s where she picked it up from – the second you all hear something you don’t like, you decide to stronga—” I started to scoff only to yelp when I felt fingers wrap themselves tightly around my wrist and yanked.

Hard.

Painfully.

“Wha--?” I protested, whipping around and finding myself face-to-face with a pair of familiar green eyes that flashed with anger.

Loki.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“What am I doing? Can’t you tell?” I rebuked, gritting my teeth in defiance as I tried to wrestle my wrist out of his grasp.

But it was to no avail and I grunted in frustration.

“Let go!” I growled, using my other hand to shove at his chest.

He barely budged.

He pulled at my wrist with so much force, I winced and stumbled forwards.

“That’s enough to your madness,” he snapped, eyes alight with rage.

And it felt like a slap to my face.

I froze.

And it was if the world had stopped turning.

That’s enough to your madness.

Again and again the words rang in my head.

Loud and clear.

I felt like I was reeling.

I shouldn’t have been surprised – really. Breaking my heart seemed to be a thing he had grown accustomed to.

But it hurt.

God, did it still hurt.

And there it was – that familiar sting behind my eyes and the rising acridity in my throat he always seemed to bring.

“Madness?” I croaked.  

He paused, the hitch in my breath cutting through the anger in his eyes.

I gave a hollow laugh as I nodded my head.

“Yes. Madness…,” I whispered, voice breaking.

I blinked.

Trying to swallow the pain.

The hurt.

But all it did was leak onto my cheeks.

Eyes wet and bright.

So they could see clearly for once.

He faltered.

Eyes filled with questions as they searched mine.

“You’re still defending her after all this time?” I breathed.

I couldn’t help but feel the bubble of rage boiling beneath all the layers of hurt and heartbreak.

And worse –betrayal.

My wrist went limp and slack in his grasp as frustration flared to life in his eyes.

“I’m protecting you!” he seethed.

A sound of exasperation.

“I don’t need your protection,” I snapped, seizing his distraction as an opportunity to knock his hand away.

Before he could get another word out, I whipped my attention towards Halwen.

“You say you lovehim,” I pointed out, eyes narrowed in accusation as I felt the word ‘love’ roll off my tongue like acid – cheapened by her presence.  

Her lips pursed, much like her father – a petulant little child who insisted she had been wronged.

Her eyes widened and the voice that came out next was soft and small.

Like a victim.

“We were meant to be wedded… until… until…,” she rebuked, pausing for effect as she turned to look around the table – giving everyone a good show of her tears glistening in her eyes.

I had to hand it to her – she was really getting into it.

Playing the crowd like a fiddle – save for a bemused little snort I heard from the adorable buffoon that was still seated next to me.

“Pray finish,until…?” I taunted and it was perhaps barely noticeable to everyone else in the room but I saw the slight shadow of a furrow between her brows – irritated she had been caught in the act and I had called out on her bullshit.

She pursed her lips, scrunching her nose slightly as she shot me dagger glares.

“Until…you stole him and destroyed the treaty,” she snapped.

I let out a rather incredulous laugh.

She paused – confused.

I couldn’t help it – the bubble of birth bursting forth from my chest.

Because, really, how was one supposed to take her seriously?

“So, which is it?” I asked with a shake of my head even as the sound of my laughter lingered in the air of puzzlement.

There were little hushes of bewilderment amongst the crowd – even Odin and Queen Frigga exchanged inquisitive glances.

I could feel Loki’s eyes on me.

Probing.

Burning.

What are you up to, Little Writer?

Could almost hear his voice inside my head.

“Which is what?” she huffed, impatiently.

I looked at her, eyebrow raised as I scoffed to which she shot me an indignant glare.

“Pray tell, if you think so lowly of us Midgardians – what makes you think I command enough of a presence then for such a disruption? Am I, one, inconsequential enough that you can barely stomach eating at the same table as I do – or, two, does my existence hold enough weight to break, as you say, a treaty yearsin the making?” I bit out, condescendingly.

Her features looked painfully pinched.

Good.

Even a quick glance at Ehrendil showed him struggling to comprehend and swallow this turn of events.

Well, this Midgardian chit still has some fire in her blood.

“Yo—,” she started to retort, but I cut her off with a brush of my hand.

“So, again, which is it?” I repeated, forcefully, with a square of my jaw.

I’m pretty sure I heard a choke or two.

And even if it didn’t come from Halwen and Ehrendil themselves, it looked as if they were about to get conniptions.

“Oh, brother, I like this one,” came a muffled whisper and it was difficult to suppress a smile even in the heat of things.

And even though Loki remained wordless – nothing but a comfortable stretch of silence that laid in the wake of Thor’s words, I couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of courage.

“Or… perhaps, rather, he wanted to break this treaty because he doesn’t want to wedyou. Did that ever cross your selfish little mind?” I pushed forward.

If I hadn’t already pushed her over the edge, that certainly did as pink slowly spread across her cheeks and her eyes narrowed with hatred.

“Frankly, I shouldn’t even be surprised – God knows both your parents appear to have a habit of treating people like gifts ready to be exchanged for conveniences. Like gifts robbed of their dignity to make their own choices,” I continued.

But I had barely gotten the last word out of my lips when a loud roar erupted within the walls of the hall – startling me.

I turned to its direction.

Odin.

His eyes spat with rage upon meeting mine and I could have sworn I heard the crackling of electricity in the air.

The tiny hairs on the nape of my neck and arms stood erect.

I felt Loki start beside me, his hand reaching out instinctively to clutch my forearm – as if a warning to brace myself.

“Insolence!” he bellowed, his voice a furious timbre that echoed like the rumblings of purgatory.

He stood up brusquely, hand outstretched as he pointed at me – the pariah. Eyeing me like I was nothing more than a piece of rotten garbage who had been discarded past my use.

The entire hall fell into silence – gripped by fear as if death had touched upon them.

Their King had spoken.

“You know nothing of our traditions or the importance of what is at stake here,” he snarled.

I opened my mouth, barb at the ready on the tip of my tongue only to feel the grip around my forearm tighten.

I shot an irritated glance at Loki only to pause momentarily at the warning look on his face.

“Don’t,” he mouthed.

But I was beyond caring.

Shaking his hand off roughly, I whipped my attention back to Odin.

“You know, people often mask really shitty attitudes and moral aptitudes with this justification label they love to slap onto everything – tradition. Like, why are you being such an asshole? Don’t look at me, I’m just following tradition! Or, who made these barbaric rules? I don’t know, but we’ve got to follow them, because… wahey… it’s tradition, right?” I seethed, throwing my hands up in the air.

I was pretty sure I was making myself out to be a total nutcase what with my rant in the middle of what I could only define as an intergalactic meeting but hey, if they were already treating me like dirt, I might as well go all the way and get a things that have been weighing me down off my chest.

Damn did it feel good to say that.

Odin remained unmoving.

His expression harsh and pinched – almost painful to look at.

Almost.

“And while we’re at it – yes, I’m calling you out on your really shitty attitude and F-grade minus parenting. I mean, you’re acting like you’re so shocked and scandalized that a Midgardian girl, or whatever the fuck it is you call us, is here – when in reality, you’re the one who had this fucking brilliant idea of dropping your son off on Earth so that he could learn some manners and humility…” I continued ranting, before pausing just for a fraction of a second.

“… both of which you could use in spades,” I finished, chin tilted in Odin’s direction.

I could have sworn I heard a grunt.

And he looked as if he was about to pop a blood vessel.

If only I were so lucky.

“So, you only used Earth and me just because our reputation of being professional babysitters really preceded us. I mean, we’ll take the flattery – but I’m not here to undo all the fuck-ups you’ve done throughout your years of shitty parenting. And more importantly – don’t discard me when I’ve finally served my use. The whole time I’ve been here you’ve treated me with nothing but contempt and disgust and why? Because you think me and my kind are beneath you?” I fumed.

I knew I was running my mouth – knew I was courting trouble what with the way Odin was turning red in the face. With the way his jaw was locked and his eyes hardened as he tried his damndest to stop his hands from shaking with rage.

But I saw it – the telling tremble.

The slight curl of his lip.

Or perhaps it was I who was trembling – word after word falling out of my mouth, fueling the rage that ran in my veins.

I had had enough.

I wasn’t about to allow myself to be pinned on the spot and interrogated as if I had anything to be shameful about. As if I had anything to be blamed about when it was clear these were immortals who had no qualms about tinkering with the lives of mortals for their convenience.

To hell with all of them. If I was going to go down, I may as well go down in all my pent-up truth.

Plus, just taking in all their shell-shocked and scandalized expressions made it worth it.

“I’ll have you know – in our world, we call that racism!” I spat.

I felt a hard yank on my arm.

“What?” I snapped at Loki, eyes livid emeralds and exasperation smeared across his face.

“Do you have a death wish?” he hissed.

I had to force a choked laugh down my throat.

“Yes, because that is what you immortals do. When you don’t like something, you lash out and use brute force to twist someone’s arm and bring them to their knees,” I rasped.

I jabbed a finger in his chest.

Hard.

“You’re like that. Ehrendil’s like that. Hell…,” I broke off, shifting my attention back to Halwen who up to this point, had kept her pretty little pout sealed as she watched events unfold in my undesirable favour.

“… that’s why you’re so upset. It’s because he’s a toy you can no longer have and you need someone else to blame. Someone else you can hurl all your hatred and abuse towards because the very idea of his adulation for you having vanished is simply inconceivable,” I scathed.

Her bottom lip wobbled and I could practically see the cogs turning in her mind as she scrambled to come up with a defence to refute what I had just laid out for everyone else to see.

“Well, here’s a news flash, princess – this is all on you. You took the good he had for you and killed it all on your own. Whatever it was he felt for you – you destroyed it the night you found out his true identity as…,” I continued, only to be interrupted by a fit of coughing from Halwen.

I felt the entire room’s attention shift.

As if everyone was sitting a little straighter, ears perked and primed for what had almost been revealed.

Almost.

“… as the less favoured prince,” Halwen cried out, scrambling for a cover with alarm flashing in her eyes as she looked over anxiously at Ehrendil.

Tensed.

A grim look on his face.

His lips pressed together in an unforgivingly harsh line.

And that was when it hit me.

He doesn’t know.

I looked back at Halwen and for the first time, saw desperation in her eyes – her plea to me loud and silent all at once.

Less favoured prince.

The words rang out loud – hung low and heavy in the air like shackles draped over Loki’s neck.

And it was because he was still a prince – still an Asgardian, not a Frost Giant that they still wanted him.

That marriage was still on the table.

It wasn’t him they wanted.

It was his identity.

The honour that came with it.

The power that came from its pretense.

She wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

And it felt like a sledgehammer to my gut.

I turned to him, slowly.

Feebly.

A strange wave of melancholy washing over me, bringing to high tide tears in my eyes.

They stung.

He looked at me, eyes pained and confused. His arms hung limp by his side like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

It wasn’t my secret to tell, but God, God did I wish I could tear off the mask he had spent years hiding behind for the whole world to see.

For the whole world to accept.

For me to… love.

“Do you see?” I whispered, voice tethering on the edge of breaking.

His eyes searched mine.

Gently.

Tenderly.

Bright and shiny with unshed tears.

“That’s why he still wants you. That’s why shestill wants you. Not for who you are. But for your title,” I croaked.

Is this what you want?

The silent question hanging between us.

Is this the life you want to squander away?

He blinked.

But the tears that rolled down were mine.

It was strange standing there – feeling my heart break not just for myself. But for him.

And for the first time – I saw it.

Finally saw the understanding unravel in his eyes with so much softness and vulnerability, I came undone.

Undone in the way his lips parted, my name slipping out so quietly and breathlessly from between them like a prayer that would bring him to his knees.

“I--,” he started to whisper, soft and gentle and yielding – in all the ways I had ever envisioned him to be whenever he looked at me.

In all ways that filled out the hollow in my chest.

Even if only for a second.

But it wasn’t to last.

“Enough of this insolence!” Odin announced, gruffly.

And it was gone.

All traces of tenderness vanished in the air – there was no room for even a wisp of it before this King.

I turned to look at him, slowly.

Head held high.

Cheeks stained with tears.

And our eyes locked.

“You dare enter our realm and denigrate our traditions and the order of things,” he accused and it took a lot of willpower not to roll my eyes at the hypocrisy.

A. Lot.

“Isn’t that what you have done too?” I scoffed, unable to keep the retort from shooting straight out of my mouth.

And he had the audacity to wonder why Loki had turned out this way.

That gave him pause.

Irritation flickered across his face briefly, but he ignored it – pushing through.

“You speak of choices so freely…,” he resumed and I steered myself ready for the stinging barb that was bound to follow.

His eyes narrowed.

And I tilted my chin upwards in defiance.

“Do you truly believe he would choose you over her?” he mocked.

I swallowed.

He knew exactly what to say to get a rise out of me.

And the truth was – it did sting.

“Over this kingdom?” he booked, his hand made a sweeping gesture across the table.

Hitting exactly where it hurt.

Dead centre.

Because that was the truth – Loki loved power. No, perhaps that wasn’t entirely accurate. Loki craved acceptance, desired adulation – and he was blinded in his belief that power would bring it all to him.

Odin was right.

Loki would never give up the kingdom.

His silence throughout the entire ordeal was in it, an answer itself.

And while it hurt – each thought a stab to my chest – this was nothing new.

This was something I had spent nights crying over.

Wheezing.

Gasping.

Hollowed out.

It was a demon I had since learnt how to make peace with.

“It’s okay,” I breathed, my throat starting to constrict.

It’s okay.

And I wasn’t sure if the words had been just for me.

A reminder.

Be brave.

The little voice in my head whispered.

Odin frowned – unable to make out what I had just said save for the slight unintelligible mumble it had come across.

“Speak up, Midgardian,” he ordered, his patience wearing visibly thin.

“I said, it’s okay, I choose me,” I said.

Weakly.

Feebly.

Yes, it was wobbly.

Yes, it was shakey.

And yes, I sounded damn near close to everything falling apart.

But I said it.

Odin’s eyes widened.

“It’s okay,I choose me,” I repeated once more.

Louder.

Clearer.

Like it was some sort of catharsis that fueled liquid courage in my veins.

“You choose yourself?” Odin echoed, incredulously.

As if he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

I nodded.

Be brave.

Came that little voice again.

And this time, there was no fear.

No ragged breathing.

No pounding in my chest.

There was only peace.

There was only bravery.

There was only me.

I took in a deep breath.

“Choosing myself means being unafraid of speaking what is true to me. And me, this Midgardian whom you hate and despise so much, me – I have seen your son. I have seen who he is and I lovehim. The question is – do you?”

A sharp intake of breath.

Loki.

But I didn’t look his way.

No matter how much it killed me inside.

Be brave.

Even to the sound of your own heart breaking.

My bottom lip quivered.

“But don’t worry – I don’t intend on loving him any longer.”

[bungoustraydogsbigbang]

We’ve come to the end of the Soukoku Big Bang 2019! Before we move on to the master post for 2019, we would like to express our sincerest thanks to all of you. It has been a wild ride and us mods couldn’t thank our participants enough for being such lovely people to work with. There’ll also be a feedback form the participants can fill in! The link will be distributed through email and shared in our discord server. We would like to know how you think about us and how you would like us to improve through our feedback form!

If you missed your chance this year, don’t worry, we’ll be back again in 2020! Do stay tuned for some exciting information on where this event will be going next year! We have some “big news” waiting for you!

Without further ado, here’s the masterpost for all entries of Soukoku Big Bang 2019! 

M A S T E R P O S T

It Was Worth Trying by MidnightLightHowlite | Art by Misa

Rating: General Audiences

Seeing Dazai float face down in a river was not all that unusual. True, it hadn't happened in four years, but the view was not exactly a foreign one. No, what was foreign was the fact that Dazai seemed to be shorter. And younger. And didn't remember him. In retrospect, Chuuya probably shouldn't have let the boy call Mori because that allowed his boss to put him on babysitting duty.

(Or Dazai gets deaged. No romance will happen till they are both the same age again.)

Bandaged Sheep by MidnightLightHowlite | Art by Abel

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

There had been something very weird, very off about the new recruit. He had popped up out of thin air a few months ago, wrapped from head to toe in bandages. Not a word of what he did before, saying he wanted to join the sheep. He wasn't strong or skilled, and truly, there was no logical reason for Chuuya to pay him any mind.

But then the Port Mafia put a huge bounty on his head and things started to get interesting

these days, you’re fine by AquarianTwin | Art by Nella

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fifth-grade classmates Q and Aya are convinced that their older brothers would make a perfect pair if they’d just stop fighting for five minutes. Dazai and Chuuya, who have been dating for over a year, find this too funny to correct them.

Dazai takes in his younger sibling, Q, after they’re removed from their father’s home. Overwhelmed by the responsibility of raising of a child when he can barely keep himself alive some days, Dazai leans on his partner, Chuuya, to help lead him through. It’s a good thing Q gets along so well with Chuuya’s younger sister, but Dazai thinks he might die of laughter if the pair try to “secretly” set him up on another date with his own boyfriend.

Project Pinocchio by EKmisao | Art by Ginny

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

What kept the youngest mafia executive alive enough was a new file, on a newly-acquired powerful cyborg. It started as a project to keep a cyborg a boy. It became more than he expected.

Outrunning Fate by RocketJams | Art by Nanamin

Rating: Not Rated

Chuuya laid in the hospital bed, his consciousness slipping away slowly as he patiently awaited his demise. The doctors had assured him he wouldn't feel a thing but for some reason he couldn't shake this feeling his chest. An subtle pain which at this point had coaxed his stomach into a frenzy. Something was wrong but there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

In Isolation He Thrived by Maddy | Art by Leo

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

All his life Dazai felt like a tool, a pawn that was just tossed aside when not needed. He was looked down on and felt useless, so slowly a fire ignited within him and turned him into a merciless person also well known as a "Soulless Demon".

He always believed he was destined to do wrong until one day when he finds Chuuya who proves him wrong.

S8 (TBA)

i step from here without you by fatimé | Art by eva

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

“I used Corruption because I trusted you,” Chuuya gasps out, and the words leave a hole the size of Yokohama in his chest. He punches Dazai right where that hole is and hopes it hurts him just as much as it hurts Chuuya.

Dazai smiles. He catches him when his vision finally goes dark and the next thing Chuuya wakes to is emptiness in his heart and a stack of neatly folded clothes.

In one universe, they’re partners-turned enemies, the former Double Black, the most fearsome duo in Port Mafia history. They’re Soukoku and they’re spiteful and they’re tangled up in one another more than they’d care to admit.

In another, they’re—

S10 (TBA)

In Blood we are Sealed by Chaosia | Art by RedZeverin

Dazai stared at his subordinate and the white tiger passed out on the ground, dismayed. It almost worked. This was the fourth person they've went to. There was one more person Dazai could take Atsushi to but he had enough reason to guess that it wouldn't work.

Dazai made a face.

There was one person Dazai knew who could do the job. He'd successfully commit suicide though before that gremlin ever found out he had such thoughts. The taste of metallic filled his mouth. He held in the urge to spit it out.

His ears rang as he imagined a shrieking voice yelling his name like it was the worst insult one could come up with and the mirage of fire that surrounded those blue eyes and foul mouth. Ugh, he was so annoying even in his imagination...and short.

Sticking a pinky into his ear to clear out the haunting voice, Dazai went about gathering up his apprentice and the tiger. Maybe fate would take pity on him and this next trip would solve their problem...

He could feel the cursed blood laughing at him all the way back to their hotel room.

Or a magical AU where Dazai inadvertently gets Atsushi cursed and they have to go to Chuuya, a powerful witch in his own right, to break it.

S14 (TBA)

Quatervois by TheWanderingTanteiThief | Art by King

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Quatervois (n.) a crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one's life

Chuuya didn't expect to see a man hanging from a tree.

Chuuya didn't expect to meet the man again.

Chuuya certainly didn't expect the man to be the crown prince of the kingdom.

...or cardverse au where Dazai is an asshole and Chuuya just wants to have a peaceful life. Is that too much to ask?

flaws and all by alli | Art by phryn

The transition Dazai and Chuuya routinely make between their heated arguing and completely seamless teamwork is being disrupted by their changing relationship. Which is an issue, because the two of them have been assigned to what could possibly be the most important undercover mission of their careers. Will they be able to strengthen their partnership for the better, or will it crack under the ever growing pressure?

-

As much as he craved that, as easy as it would be to do, it terrified him.

So, he didn’t.

Mirror Mirror In My Eye by MidnightLightHowlite | Art by cchibikko

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Dazai didn't have much hope for the next few years of Hogwarts, but would have liked to wait at least a few till Arahabaki noticed him.

Never such luck for the resident mummy.

School year was already shitty as it was, but now he has a fiery angry redhead demanding answers he's not ready to give

School year was already shitty as it was, but now he has a fiery angry redhead demanding answers he's not ready to give

Fuck.

thy kingdom come by chubsthehamster | Art by Stella Rasu

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

In a bid to save their continent from destruction, the kingdoms of Ada and the Port Mafia must put aside their years of tension to form an uneasy alliance. An act of holy matrimony unites Princes Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya, marking the beginning of an infamous partnership.

The affair is strictly political, and perhaps for the better. The two hate each other from the beginning.

should we never meet again by setosdarkness | Art by phryn

Rating: Mature

Sixteen women have been killed by a vicious serial killer haunting Yokohama’s streets.

Dazai has been chosen to become a part of the elite Bloody Valentine Task Force, even if he personally thinks that it’d be a lot more fun to stay at home with his boyfriend. Especially since it took years to convince Chuuya to finally move in with him.

It’s just a coincidence that Chuuya’s agreed to move in with him the moment he’s been chosen to become a part of the Task Force, right?

Resolving the Matter in Spirit by ASentientSlug | Art by Tomomorey

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Dazai's boring, everyday life ends in an accidental double suicide, but instead of facing the sweet release of endless sleep, Dazai finds himself in the Spirit World, where nothing is familiar and dangerous, soul-eating spirits lurk behind every corner. To get out, Dazai must confront the ghosts of his past and the ghosts of his present when one very familiar and yet very dangerous spirit takes Dazai under his wing.

If We Ever Meet Again by Luc | Art by Saiel

Rating: Mature

It all started with diamonds.

Chuuya thinks he would've been just as attracted to it if it wasn't for the equally shiny police badge in his pocket.

It all ends with a silver bullet.

For someone as talented in the dance of crime, Dazai has developed quite a bias about the jewels that would catch anybody's fancy.

Diamonds? They're overrated. Old. Boring.

Rubies? Sapphires?

Now those—

—those are worth getting caught for.

keep your windows open by Maristella | Art by Einjjjj

Rating: General Audiences

Usually, whenever Chuuya jumped, he flew.

This was not one of those times.

(Or, alternatively, where Chuuya breaks into Dazai's mansion as a thief, and comes out as a kidnapper. Even though he's also sort of a kid. And it's also not kidnapping.)

(Not when the victim bribed the kidnapper to take him.)

“You do know that the treasure doesn’t exist, right?”

“The what?”

“The treasure. You know, the one in the rumours. It doesn’t exist.”

“…are you screwing with me?”

“No?”

“I’m not an idiot. If there’s no treasure, why else are you here then?”

“Um…this is my house?”

(Also featuring: Chuuya and the different types of falling.)

half of my half by keptein | Art by manwe.russingon

Rating: Mature

No one understands why Dazai’s dæmon looks like a boy more often than not.

Book One: Fire by chuuzuke | Art by wandiwoo

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Avatar The Last Airbender/Korra AU: The world has changed. Technology can meet nearly every need, to the point where bending is considered a relic of the past, and with it, the Avatar. In fact, no one has seen the Avatar for nearly 100 years, and most people prefer to keep it that way.

Nakahara Chuuya, Prince of the Fire Nation, more than understands what it's like to be considered a relic. After the Fire nation moved to a parliamentary system, the title of Fire Lord is a largely ceremonial one, and Chuuya struggles under the burden of an office that restricts his every move without giving him any actual power to enact change.

When he runs away, intent on finding his own path, it seems like fate when he runs into Dazai Osamu, a mysterious man who claims he has a way to cure the unexplained illness Chuuya has suffered from his whole life.

peace lily by intimatopia | Art by phryn

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

They say you don’t truly know a person until you live with them. Dazai and Chuuya would argue that they know more about each other than one ought to know about anyone else.

Or: Mori forces 15 year old Dazai and Chuuya to share a flat because he doesn’t trust them to be on their own, and he thinks it’ll be a good way for them to bond.

Dazai and Chuuya think he's a sadist.

Two rambunctious teen boys, left to their own devices in a multi-million dollar penthouse. What could possibly go wrong?

of flowers and verses by lua & lanipalmer | Art by Yahuri

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

For years, Nakahara Chuuya has been pining over the ex-mafioso himself, Dazai Osamu. So what better to vent than through poetry? Combined with his (frankly, alarming) knowledge of flower languages, this is a story about Chuuya and his frustrations and desires.

Still Worth Fighting For by Maru | Art by ewe

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

"In which Chuuya never joins the port mafia, stops using his ability for fighting out of guilt, and later becomes a hacker.

His life had been relatively peaceful until one day, Dazai appears again at his doorstep asking for his help to find information on ‘The Rats.’"

The Necromancer by Ru | Art by etsuki_haru

Rating: Mature

If you venture into the slums of Suribachi City, you’ll find the witch Dazai Osamu, known as the Necromancer, and his barely tamed beast, Arahabaki. If you bring to him the bones of someone, he will bring that person back to life - in exchange for some of your lifespan. But bringing a soul back from the dead turn a heart twisted. Did you get your wish, or dig your own grave? These are the grim tales of a witch and a creature, trying to figure out their humanity, overseeing the consequences of taking death too lightly.

S34 (TBA)

fire and calamity by Jasmine | Art by Zen

Arahabaki has left its vessel, leaving Chuuya in a comatose state. Dazai and the rest of the ADA now have to track the god down and capture it for two reasons. One, because Chuuya knows the whereabouts of the Book. Two, because if they don't, they lose him forever. (ADA!Chuuya, established!SKK)

S38 (TBA)

fight our way to heaven by kiwi | Art by chicchii

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

The redhead had a fire in him that made Dazai want to poke and prod until he could see the limits. Chuuya was so alive and for the first time since Dazai could remember, he wanted to taste and feel that fire.

What he didn’t account for was that the decision to follow Chuuya would lead him to discovering memories he didn’t know he had and it would make them a target for all ability organizations in Yokohama.

Or the one where we have teen skk against the world.

Everything Comes Back To You by Catsby | Art by Mai

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

In the period after the war for the Book, the Port Mafia finds itself in need of a Boss. The logical choice for that position would be Chuuya - except Chuuya has gone missing.

Après Un Rêve by manwe.russingon | Art by Sebby

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

"I wandered long, methought, alone

to the deep shadow where the dead dwell,

but ever a voice that I knew well,

like bells, like viols, like harps, like birds,

like music moving without words,

called me, called me through the night,

enchanted drew me back to the light!"

Nakahara Chuuya, the elven lord commander of the kingsguard of kingdom of Mirkwood, singing in the woods. With a sudden intervention from Dazai Osamu, a mysterious being that was caught in between his tunes, they became best friends afterwards. Or perhaps it is more than that?

Time to time, one story comes with another. The truth finally unveils, and the clock is ticking faster. What exactly is Dazai? Why does he act so familiarly to Chuuya? And perhaps the biggest question we need the answer is: What makes them always connected, even for thousands of years?

S42 by chuuzuke | Art by willofjokerXIX

Lost All Judgement by todxrxki | Art by Yahuri

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

“Uh, sorry, but unfortunately I already have a date to the dance.”

“Oh, really?” Tachihara says, sounding disappointed. He pauses for a second, clearly processing what Chuuya’s just told him, and then says, “Who is it?”

Chuuya certainly hadn’t budgeted for this.

Panicking, he tries to think of the people that he knows that are single, and before he knows it, the first name that comes to mind is slipping out of his mouth. “With Dazai.” / After a momentary lapse in judgment, high school student Chuuya ends up having to pretend to date his enemy Dazai to get Tachihara off of his back - and quickly finds it's nowhere as bad as he'd imagined.

Of Boxers and Bachelors by writingfromtheshadows | Art (1 & 2 & 3) by Angella

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

When Dazai Osamu gets cut off from the family's coffers in an attempt to regulate his behavior, he decides to find a way around his father's ultimatum. Faking an engagement with an underground boxer sounds like the perfect scandal...

Crimson Memoirs by Luneath & Abel | Art by lefterstein

Rating: Mature

By the power of great ancient magic, supernatural beings are aptly hidden just behind the eyelids of humans. Vampires, witches, weres, faeries – all of them live and exist out of the fairy tales books.

Humans' eyes are just shielded into not comprehending their true nature, their magic, and their trickery. To protect them, the Gods say. But Dazai has always known that he’s no ordinary human. From the gift of seeing beyond the magic veil to the peculiar dreams to the aching, hollow feeling hugging his chest in a tight embrace – he knows he’s different.

What Dazai doesn’t know is that this isn’t the start of his story and the stranger with glowing blue eyes that have always been the center of his recurring dreams. What Dazai doesn’t know is that this is not exactly his first life. Dazai doesn't know a lot of things. But with time, he will come to know that he doesn't mind dying the second time for Chuuya.

entanglement by Shinkirou | Art by Zevy

Rating: Mature

Not everyone has a destined partner. Theoretically, even Dazai and Chuuya aren't supposed to. Are being programmed not to, even.

But whether they're "meant" to be together or not is irrelevant. Dazai wants Chuuya to be his, and so Chuuya will be his.

... If only it were actually that simple.

pointless by Lua | Art by Behax

Rating: Explicit

It was an annoyance after everything that happened, and yet, Chuuya found himself on the doorsteps of a man that he had more than enough reasons to kill. He could come up with excuses, but he was not in the habit of lying to himself. At times, Chuuya would describe their relationship as an addiction he couldn't get rid of. This was ridiculous. Dazai was now a traitor and a coward; what did that make of Chuuya himself to know where to find him and keep that a secret?

Latent Identities by RocketJams | Art by Seiran

Rating: Explicit

He could deny it however many times he wanted to, but Dazai could see through it every time. The lies over his lips, the false smiles and misleading words. He could fool anyone else into believing he was who he said he was. Though whenever he smiled, Dazai could feel it. Something was wrong, he wasn't Chuuya.

N6 (TBA)

Before I Fall by hellosweetie17 | Art by Nanamin

Rating: Explicit

Chuuya’s oblivious to the circumstances surrounding their fragile world; Dazai’s made sure of it.

Mighty Long Fall by quinnlocke | Art by Xoinks

Rating: Mature

When Dazai betrays the ADA for the Port Mafia, he’s greeted as the prodigal son. That doesn’t mean he’s trusted, however, and now that he’s betrayed the Port Mafia and ADA alike, he has far more enemies than friends. As Dazai works to survive the heart of the viper’s nest, it quickly becomes clear that Chuuya will save him - or be the reason he fails.

Chuuya, meanwhile, knows Dazai too well to trust that his cards are on the table. But as he finds himself at Dazai’s mercy, and caught between loyalties, he realizes there’s no other option but to master the god that lives beneath his skin and hope he survives long enough to protect the organization to whom he’s sworn his life.

But first they both must realize that a mighty long fall awaits.

moonshine voyage by setosdarkness | Art by Behax

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Dazai's plan to stop Fyodor involves sacrificing his life. He should have known that even the best-made plans are useless when there’s someone like Chuuya out there, who just won’t stop saving him.

A journey of growing and growing old together.

[or: chuuya saves dazai's life by linking their souls & lifespans together]

Lifeline by Abel | Art (1 & 2 & 3) by phryn

Rating: Explicit

Nakahara Chuuya is a normal kid. He has two parents who loves him very much even though he's not really their son. He's a good student even though he's not on top. He's popular and has a lot of friends. Everything in his life is fine-- perfectly fine.

Until he bumps into another kid his age, bandages wrapped all over him. Dazai Osamu-- he said his name was, with a tone of amusement and yet tinged with longing.

Little did he know, that fated meeting will change his life forever.

Can’t Be Tamed by stargazerlilith | Art by Abel

Rating: Explicit

The boss of the Port Mafia is merciless against those who oppose him.

Well he was, until he resigned himself to the fate of the notorious dating app known as Tinder.

We hope you enjoy the masterpieces made by our talented participants! See you again next year!

[not-a-space-alien]

Into the Unknown, Part 9: Satan, Redefined

Art by @petimetrek (link)

Prologue | Dramatis Personae | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Series masterpost

On AO3

AN: before reading this please know I promise everything will be all right in the end okay oHo

Hell was different.  There was no blood, no torture, no fire and brimstone.

But the strange thing was, it wasn’t better.  Everything was still underground, but the cave aesthetic had been replaced by sterile white walls.  And eyes, eyes everywhere; he felt that ever-present gaze on him from the necks and arms of his fellow demons, from eyes imprinted above doorways, from watchful sentinels at the enormous stone gates.  It was oppressive, the constant feeling of being scrutinized, being judged, of being directed and controlled.

The demons here were much, much more inclined to be helpful to one another because they seemed to work as a hive-mind.  It was staggering and horrifying in a way Crowley hadn’t expected. There was nowhere to hide in this Hell, nowhere to escape and scuttle away to be alone.  It was open, empty, and brightly-lit.  It was the polar opposite of what he was used to Hell being like, and Crowley had always thought that would make it better, but it didn’t.

Was this what Heaven had always been like for Aziraphale?  What was Heaven like here, if this is what Hell was?

Botis could tell vaguely that Crowley was unsettled as they entered the gates, but he had no idea why.  They were like ants from two different species meeting, sensing some level of familiarity and sameness between each other, but utterly uncomprehending as to what could be the cause of the ever-pervading sense of difference there was between them, trying to use their limited map of the world to guide their interactions with each other and failing to understand each other properly.

The gates of Hell boomed closed behind them, and Botis escorted him to an elevator cart.  Crowley had the horrifying realisation that the light emanating from the walls came from disembodied human souls shoved into compartments at intervals like a filing system, each one tagged sorted.

Crowley was understandably distracted.  He had already thought up a lie to try and dig his way out of this situation as fast as possible, but it was slipping out of his mind repeatedly as he tried to take everything in.

Botis held his arm out to an eye on the door of the elevator, and a red light shot out and scanned his tattoo like a bar code.  A pop-up display read ACCESS GRANTED TO NINTH LAYER.

The elevator doors slid open, and Botis corralled Crowley inside.  The doors shut, and the cart began to sink along with Crowley’s stomach.

The screen in the cart showed their current floor, which began to tick towards nine.  Crowley scrambled to secure his slippery lie, like he was chasing a fish on a dock that kept flopping about.  “Botis?”

“Yes?”

He desperately tried to think of what scrap of information he could glean that might arm him in the coming encounter.  “What was Satan’s—”

“Our Lord Satan.”

“What was Our Lord Satan’s angelic name? Before she fell?”

Botis’s lip peeled into a sneer.  “You forget yourself.  Do not speak with such impudence about our Lord.  Remember that she is always listening.”

Crowley zipped his lips.  The eye on Botis’s wrist flickered to life and made eye contact with him, staring straight through him.

He didn’t dare say anything else on the ride down.  It seemed like it took an eternity for the cart to reach the bottom floor.

The car finally jolted to a stop, and the doors slid open, revealing a chamber with hallways radiating off like spokes in a wheel.  It was reminiscent of the ninth layer of Hell with which he was familiar, but the elegant red carpet leading up to the throne room straight ahead was laid upon a marble white floor instead of the traditional stone-grey architecture that had always dominated Hell.

The whole place smacked of the way Heaven was, too bright, too sterile and bare.  The Satan he knew would have never built something like this.

The eye on Botis’s arm flared to life again, and the disembodied voice rang out, “Escort him to me, Botis, and stay for a few minutes.”

This time, Crowley could hear an echo of the voice faintly nearby, as though the speaker were physically present somewhere here.  It was coming from the throne room.

“Yes, lord,” Botis answered, and prodded Crowley to step forwards.

As Crowley did so, the doors to the throne room slid open, not a booming set of ornate, stone-carved monstrosities as they always had been, but a simple, functional blockade that opened nearly silently on greased hinges.

The red carpet ran up to the throne of Hell, which was a simple white pedestal.  On the left side of the throne was a demon wearing the face and aura of the archangel Victoria, a hardened, sneering simulacrum of Heaven’s most noble warrior. On the right of the throne was the archdemon Mykas in his most bestial form, a hunched over bear of a figure. He looked exactly as Crowley was used to him, except his body was knotted with the scars of a thousand battles which hadn’t been kind to him.  His left eye was clouded under a gnarled white tear that didn’t seem to have healed quite right, and a heavy metal collar kept him chained to the throne. Both of these archdemons had the eye tattoo on their necks.

And in the center, sitting cross-legged on the throne, was Satan. She was dressed in a plain white sash, which contrasted sharply with the ribbon of black hair tucked over one shoulder. In place of a crown, an eye sigil pulsing with occult energy sat atop her head, radiating power.

The space between her nose and forehead where her eyes should have been was smooth and unbroken.  Instead, the pair of silver wings spread out behind her was lined with eyes from joint to tip.  They were all lolling to the side in every which way, unfocused, until Crowley’s footsteps echoed in the chamber at which point all of the dozens of pupils snapped to him attentively.

“Fuck,” Crowley whispered, because now he had the answer to his earlier question.  The aura was unmistakable, even tainted as it was by the Fall.

Satan’s smile spread wide, too wide, and this visage of eyes and cruelty and blinding perfection said, “Welcome.  So good to finally see you with my own eyes.”  Said eyes fluttered and blinked rapidly as she fanned her wings slightly, spreading them wide to look at him fully.

“Uriel,” whispered Crowley.  “You?  But…How…?”  Now he regretted not running when he had the chance, Botis’s reaction be damned.  Uriel and Satan, combined into one.  Uriel as Satan, instead of Lucifer.  It was unthinkable.

Mykas leapt forward until he slammed into the limits of the chain around his neck, barking and growling madly, mouth foaming.  Crowley took a terrified step back.  Botis didn’t flinch.

“Heel,” Satan commanded, snapping her fingers.

Mykas, hackles still raised, mouth crunched in a snarl, slunk back to his spot beside the throne.  The archdemon who bore an uncanny resemblance to Victoria eyed Crowley curiously and critically.  

Satan unfolded her legs and stood on the pedestal, towering over Crowley, who at least had the sense to kneel.

She did not seem impressed by the unprompted display of supplication. With a small leap, wings extended, she drifted down to the floor in front of Crowley.  Even without the pedestal, she still stood head and shoulders above him.

“What a strange anomaly you are,” said Satan, exposing her mouth full of perfectly pointed, needle-like teeth.  “All of my demons have been marked since the very beginning.  You could not have fallen, could you?”

Crowley shook himself and dug up the lie he had thought up on the way down to put up some semblance of a passing story, finally catching the slippery thing. “Yes, Lord.”  He hadn’t addressed anyone as lord or master in decades, and it tasted foul on his tongue. But he swallowed it as a necessity. All he had to do was get through this so he could get back up to Earth, where he stood a better chance of getting away. “I’ve abandoned Heaven and fallen. I wish to join your ranks.”

Satan pivoted and gracefully sat herself back on the pedestal, legs crossed. She swiped the air in front of her, and a huge, huge book materialised, settling itself onto her lap.

Crowley gaped.  It was the Book of Life, turned infernal.

No, that wasn’t right.  Was it? The book pulsed with magical energy, sure, but it didn’t seem to have the gut-wrenching, reality-altering power that the true Book of Life had.

Crowley watched as Satan leafed through the Book.  “This represents a deviation from the usual Order,” said Satan. “Surely you must understand that.”

“Er, of course, lord,” said Crowley.

“So how do you explain yourself, then?” Satan demanded.  A quill appeared in her hand, and ink dabbled from the tip of its own accord.  She pressed it against the page, ready to write.

“Ah…” said Crowley.  “Um, upon what detail, exactly, would my master wish me to give further explanation?”

Archdemon Victoria snickered.

He felt Botis showering him with a hateful glare from the side.  “Don’t be stupid,” he growled.

Crowley sweated, wanting very badly not to be stupid, but having no real idea how to keep the charade going.  He felt the glares of Botis, Fallen Victoria, and Satan burning into him keenly.

Satan inclined her head.  Her wings fanned once, the eyes blinking out of sync with each other.  “No new demon has fallen in six-thousand years.  It is unprecedented for an angel to be kicked out after the rebellion.”

“Ah, yes,” said Crowley, palms moist.  That made sense, considering Uriel was the one who kicked people out.  Maybe nobody could touch the Book of Life up in Heaven anymore?

So then he had to spin up a lie to explain how he had fallen if he wanted to stick to the same story.

He was about to weave a tale of Heaven appointing a new Keeper of the Divine Aura before Satan interrupted him.  “Tell me, what was your name before you fell?”

Shite.  If he gave his real name, Satan might find out he hadn’t just recently Fallen as he’d said.  If he gave a fake name, he risked it not being in Satan’s book at all.  Either outcome had the potential to make everyone in the room angry at him.

He could give the name of an angel he knew hadn’t fallen yet in this universe.  It would be in the Book, but not recorded as already having fallen during the rebellion. “My name was Aziraphale.”

He was relieved that Satan seemed to swallow the lie, the pages of the Book whizzing past under a wave of her hand.  It snapped open to a certain page, which Satan scanned.

She inclined her head.  Crowley didn’t know why she kept doing that.  Eye contact was impossible.  “That’s very interesting, newcomer, because according to my notes, Aziraphale is a field agent class principality currently stationed in Great Britain.  While you were obviously a healing class angel.”

Crowley sweated.

“Did they change your class when they kicked you out?”

Crowley opened his dry mouth to answer.

“I’ll give you one more chance to tell the truth.”

Crowley swallowed.  “The truth is, my name before I Fell was Cralael.”

The pages of the Book whirred around again.  Uriel scanned another page, then sneered.

“Now that’s also interesting, because according to my notes, Cralael fell at the beginning of time, and was killed by his angelic counterpart—who, interestingly, happens to be named Aziraphale—several hundred years ago via holy water.”

Crowley let out a shaky breath.

“And yet here he stands before us, alive and well.”

Botis eyed him strangely.

Satan snapped the Book shut, and it disappeared under a wave of her hand. “You may leave us now, Botis.”

Botis bowed, turned on his heel, and exited quickly, leaving Crowley alone to face the three nightmares on the other end of the room.

Satan stood once again, hovering a few inches in the air.  “Your opportunity to tell me the truth has passed, little demon.  Vycra, hold him.”

Fallen Victoria—Vycra—marched forwards towards Crowley.  He backed up, holding his hands out.  “Now hold on a minute, we don’t have—"

He shut his mouth as Vycra grabbed his arm, yanking him down.  He tried to worm his way out of her grip, but he knew in his heart there was no way he could fight his way out of here.

Satan fluttered down to the ground.  “I shall pick the answers directly from your brain.  Lower your defenses so I may make the connection.”

Despite Vycra’s overwhelming aura right on top of him, Crowley managed to slam his aural defenses shut, as high as they would go.

“That was not a request,” Satan said.  Crowley felt a tendril of her aura reaching outwards, prickling the back of his neck.  It was the same aura he had felt when Uriel was on the verge of tearing his wings off.

What had always made Uriel worse than any of the other archangels was that she could just manipulate aura directly.

Crowley whimpered as his defenses lowered without his consent, exposing him.  Satan reached out and brushed a gentle finger on his forehead.  He felt the aural tendril creeping into his brain.

It stung a little, but not quite as much as when Camael had done it to him all those many years ago.  This Satan had a practiced hand, surgical in its precision.  Crowley gasped at how fast she came in and retreated.

Satan’s rows of eyes along her wings betrayed her bewilderment, rattling about like craft googly eyes in an earthquake, despite her impassive facial expression.  She lowered her hand from Crowley, folding her arms in front of her body.  “Hmmm….”

Crowley panted, sweating a little.

“Let him go, Vycra.”

Crowley felt himself deposited summarily on the floor.  He curled his legs under him as Vycra strode past him back to her place by the throne.

Satan strutted back to the simple pedestal that served as the throne and sat, petting Mykas on the head a few times.  “Now that was very interesting,” she said, voice low like a rumbling storm cloud.  “Do you care to explain what I just saw?”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut.  He wasn’t entirely sure what she had seen, but it had definitely included his most recent memories about meeting God and falling from the sky for sure.  How much further back did she get?  Had she seen his love for Aziraphale?  All the way back to the beginning of time?

What would she do if she found out about the other universe?  If she reached it?  Did Crowley have to doom himself to keep it secret and protect his home?

“I’m waiting,” Satan growled.  “You have one opportunity.  Do not lie to me.”

He didn’t have much of a choice.  He shakily got to his feet, straightened his suit, and looked Satan in the face.

“I come from a better world,” Crowley said.  “One where angels and demons don’t have to fight anymore. There is no war.  We worked hard to make peace with each other.”

Vycra’s stare on him was hard.  Her face contained a frightening amount of hatred.  Or…jealousy?  “That’s absurd.  Angels and demons are hereditary enemies.  They’d never make peace.”

“It’s true,” Crowley said.  “Where I come from, Vycra, you’re still an angel, and Mykas—”

Mykas’s bestial face was still crunched to expose his massive teeth.  He wasn’t hearing a single thing Crowley said, he realised.

What a damn shame.

“Vycra is right,” said Satan.  “The natural order of the universe is such that angels and demons will always be diametrically opposed.  You’re still lying to me.  I want the real explanation.”

“You saw it,” said Crowley.  “In my head—you got snatches of Aziraphale, surely.  You—Satan—where I’m from, Uriel never fell—”

“That’s enough,” Satan snarled.  “If you won’t tell us the truth, I’ll have to decide on my own what to make of you.  I don’t know who you are, or what you are, or where you came from and how you got here, or if you’ve tricked me—”

“I’m not—”

“—and if so, how, but you are now under my control, and you will be silent unless I tell you to speak.”

Crowley clamped his mouth shut, tears threatening to well up in his eyes. This wasn’t going well at all.

Satan’s chest heaved with rage.  “You are a demon, and as such you belong to me, you are under my control, and all my servants must have a mark. Vycra, hold him.”

Vycra’s hands were gentler this time, probably because Crowley wasn’t desperately trying to fend her off.  Satan waved her hand and materialised a pointed implement, dripping with ink. “Since I am feeling generous today, I will even let you pick where on your body it will go.  You may choose from your neck or either wrist.”

She hovered over to him, dabbling the excess ink onto her own hand. Crowley’s eyes darted around her body and the room.  “Hold on a moment, can’t we—”

“If you do not pick, I will pick for you.”

“Wrist,” Crowley spluttered, thinking that body part would be easiest to lop off.  “Wrist, please.”

Satan peeled Crowley’s right arm off from his defensive posture and began to draw on his wrist.  The ink sizzled into his skin like a brand, but it was curiously painless.

The ink still glowed red hot when Satan removed the tattoo gun, leaving the crisp image of an eye on his skin.  The molten pupil began to move about in sync with one of the eyes on Uriel’s wing.

Crowley bit his lip.

“There we are,” said Satan, sounding curiously relieved.  “Now you are as you should be.”

“Um,” Crowley said.

Satan waved the implement away.  Her anger had all but dissipated instantly, her cool smile returning, at ease at being in control.  “I’ll make sense of what you are eventually, little demon.  I’ll have to think about this a little more.”

She stared at him with all dozens of her eyes, this time including the one on his wrist.

Crowley began, “Lord, if I may—"

“You may not,” said Satan.  “The time for your input has passed.”  Satan floated back over to the throne and sat on it primly.  “The only question that remains is what should be done with you.”

“Perhaps he could be employed in the field as a healer,” said Vycra. “Field post thirteen is short one healer.  It would even out the numbers.”

“Yes,” said Crowley.  “That’s an excellent idea.  I would be a great asset in the field.”

Satan stared at him, head tilted onto her first.  “How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet?  No.  You are an anomaly in the Order.”

Vycra looked at him with pity.

“You should be kept down here with the other anomalies.”

Crowley did not like the sound of that at all.  “I would be much more useful up on the surface.  I saw how many wounded there were up there.  Is where I came from really such a big deal?”

Satan’s face was mild now, as though she were relaxed due to the impending resolution of something troubling her.  “No…You shall stay down here, where I can control you.”

Vyra strode over and plucked out a handful of Crowley’s feathers.  “Ow!”

Satan swiped at the air, and a row of jars appeared, moving so fast as to be a blur, until it came to the end of the line.  The last one was labeled “Anomaly #392” and had a handful of green feathers in it.

Another jar appeared next to it, labeled “Anomaly #393,” and Satan took Crowley’s feathers from Vycra and deposited them into it.  She screwed the lid shut, then swiped to dismiss the collection.

“That is plenty of feathers for a summoning spell,” said Satan.  “This way, I may call you up from where you’ll be stored if I need you.  Otherwise, you’ll be safely quarantined from the order of Hell where you can’t mess things up.”

“Uhhhh,” said Crowley.

Satan crossed her hands, and a yawning black portal opened in front of the throne.

Crowley’s eyes widened.  “You’re going to throw me into the Pit?”

The Pit was where demons went when you needed them to be locked away forever. There was no escaping from the Pit without concerted effort from someone on the outside of it.  It was where the misbehaving archdemons under Maltha’s rule went when they refused to cooperate.  Even she disliked using it and only threw anyone in there as a last resort.

Crowley pivoted and made a break for the elevator.  Vyra was behind him immediately, yanking him back by the arm, pinning the limb behind him and forcing him to his knees.

“I said you shall speak only when spoken to,” said Satan.  “And yes, that is where all anomalies go.  You have no place here in this world, so you shall be kept separate from it.  But first you must be cataloged.”

Satan summoned the Book again, and she flipped it all the way to the end. She materialised a quill and began to write.  “Anomaly number three-hundred and ninety three.”

There was silence in the room for a few moments while Satan’s pen scratched on the paper.

“What is she doing?” Crowley said in a strained whisper.

“She is merely writing down all the details about you to reference later, if needed,” said Vycra.  “Since you’ll be in the Pit and not convenient to retrieve if we need to reference you.”

Crowley’s arm was still twisted behind his back, forcing him to look at the floor.  A few tears dripped from his face onto the white stone.  “I haven’t done anything.  This isn’t fair.”

“I wish life were fair, anomaly.”

“At least give me a trial.  We sometimes at least got a trial.  I don’t deserve this.  I don’t deserve punishment.”

“This isn’t punishment,” said Vycra, almost gently.  “It’s just where you belong.”

Crowley stared down into the gaping blackness of the Pit, heart wrenching. “No.  That’s not—”

“And I’m taking down a note that you simply will not be quiet,” said Satan, with an excessive motion of the quill.  “‘Continues to argue ad nauseum.  It really is quite counterproductive.”

“I belong…”  The arm Vycra didn’t have pinned behind his back was curled against his chest.  He extended it, looking at the silver ring there. “Aziraphale…  Home.”

“I’ll have to do some further investigation into this matter,” said Satan, snapping the book shut.  “But we’re done with you for now.  You are dismissed.  Vycra.”

“Please don’t do this,” Crowley wept.

“Sorry,” Vycra said.

She hauled Crowley up by the belt and tossed him into the abyss.

[daddyzanchez]

Part two of my shameless banging your teacher in college. Here’s some post-class-desk-sex, need I say more? Also the chemistry teaching is from Breaking Bad lmao

Find part one on my masterpost, link is in my bio.

Link to story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482458/chapters/41052737

EROTICA

Oh, Mr. Sanchez - Chapter 2

That night at Mr. Sanchez’ house had been magical. It would’ve gone down in history if it was up to you. How many times did you come? You had lost count and losing count was definitely a first. He was great, fantastic, amazing, absolutely flawless… until now.

You were sitting in class, his class, and it was precisely two weeks ago since it had happened… and Rick, well, he had said nothing and done nothing since the incident. Fair enough, he could lose his job if anyone ever found out but what about when he said to you, after round number four, that you were like a drug; a pussy he couldn’t leave alone. Rick Sanchez was a man of his word, so surely, he would keep his promise.

Or maybe this was just a game he was playing, making you all riled up so your heart would be racing when he finally got you on his dick. Either way, you were biting the end of your pencil in frustration and the fact that your classmates pointed out the obvious flirting to you at least once or twice a week, snickering behind your back or teasing you, made things even worse. Teacher’s pet, they said, and oh boy, if they only knew half of it.

The days that had passed, all fourteen of them, had been torture and you had had to make a plan. If you wanted his attention, you had to do something you normally did not. If you could push his buttons, he would have to notice you again.

My favourite student, you remembered him saying and it was the perfect opportunity. If you started answering his questions wrong, shrug at him or seem uninterested, he would say something.

“Chemical reactions involve change on two levels,” Rick’s voice interrupted your train of thought, and you watched his long fingers as he wrote something down on the blackboard, “M-matter and energy, ladies and gentlemen.”

You yawned loudly, resting your chin in your palm. Rick whipped around, eyebrow raising as he saw that it was you. His mouth grew into a thin line, something he had never done when looking at you, and then he spoke, voice unamused and harsh, “Am I boring you?”

“No,” you replied with a smirk, “Sorry, go on.”  

“Where was I?” Rick said to himself, “Right, matter and energy. There are reactions with a low rate and reactions with a-a high rate, the rate is the s-speed of which a chemical reaction happens. Take for example, plants and ancient fish becoming fossils through carbonization. That’s a low rate reaction - i-it takes billions of years!”

You watched as he wrote a few things down, drawing lines and arrows between terms. He looked good enough to absolutely devour, a new black turtleneck under his lab coat making you nearly swoon in your seat. If only he knew how much you wanted him, then he might cancel class and take you home whilst no one was looking. Oh, if only. You had gotten a taste of what he could do, and it was enough to leave you absolutely starving for more.

You let your mind wander, thinking back to when he had gone down on you to the point where you had gotten off from it. College boys were lame, you realised after that, too selfish and too impatient to let you enjoy getting eaten out to the fullest. Rick on the other hand, had made you nearly come twice with his head between your thighs and he had seemed to enjoy himself just as much as you.

You cursed yourself as the image in your head made you blush, a familiar ache between your legs, (one that you had had to deal with every time you saw Rick or even thought of him), starting to make you hot and bothered. You crossed your legs, squeezing your thighs together to relieve the torturing throbbing and sighed.

It was then you heard your name from Rick’s mouth, his lips still a thin line but instead of looking annoyed, he seemed smug; maybe he had noticed your new position.

“Well? Answer the question,” he said, hand on his desk as he leaned against it. He definitely knew that you were daydreaming and had been too caught up in your thoughts to hear what he had said.

“I- uuhm…” You trailed off, feeling the shame from not knowing the answer. The plan about catching his attention was going smoothly but looking like a fool in class was not part of your scheme. Additionally, it was so embarrassing that he most definitely knew that you were horny in class.

“Do-on’t strain yourself. Now, is there anyone else who can give me an example of a rapid chemical reaction?” He said, looking away to browse the raised hands in the class. Oh Christ, you knew that and everyone else probably knew that. Explosions. You must’ve seemed like a prime idiot when another person answered correctly, and jealousy bubbled up inside of you when Rick praised them; it was usually you who received the rare compliments from Rick Sanchez.

“Correct, yes, explosions,” Rick continued without even looking at you. He turned and wrote the word on the blackboard, “An explosion is the ree-esult of a chemical reaction happening almost instantaneously. If a reaction happens very very quickly, h-harmless substances can interact in ways that generates huge amounts of energy.”

You continued sulking, leaning back in your seat to change your position. The pressure between your legs wasn’t getting any less, and not even the embarrassment of the situation made you less excited. You contemplated for a moment if it was a good idea to excuse yourself and hurry home to do something about it but Rick’s smug expression from earlier made you certain that he would know what was going on in your head, so instead, you squeezed your thighs together again. The action sent a surprisingly good spike of pleasure up your spine and you reached to grip at the seat of your chair. Oh fuck.

You had done enough presentations in front of the class to know that when one was standing at the professor’s desk, one could hear every little noise in the room, and you looked up to find Rick’s eyes on you again. You blushed a deep red, blinking at him with an attempt of looking innocent but he saw right through you.

You distracted yourself by looking up at the clock, realising that the lesson was coming to an end in only five minutes. Rick’s eyes followed yours, his brow raising as he as well seemed to realise how fast time had passed.

“You know what?” He interrupted the lesson, eyes going back to you as he spoke, “Why don’t you pack your bags and have five minutes more to y-your break?”

A professor never had to say such a thing twice, the sound of chairs scraping across the floor drowning out all other noises as people started to move around. You watched them leave one by one but Rick caught your attention as he asked you to stay behind.

You heard whistling noises in your direction as you agreed to it, Rick scowling at them as they left in laughter.

“Can you lock the door?” Rick asked as he packed his own things, downing the rest of his coffee that you, on his expression, guessed had turned cold. Still, your mind didn’t focus on it too much as it was repeating what he just said to you.

Lock the door. Lock the door. Lock. The. Door.

Without hesitation, you obeyed and turned the lock with shaky hands, wondering what was going to happen. The anticipation of the unknown was causing your panties to soak even more than what they had done during class, and as you spun around to walk towards him, you found that he was already standing right in front of you.

You gasped in shock. The sight of him made your squirm underneath his piercing gaze, his eyes almost black from how dark they were, and you weren’t in doubt; he wanted you as much as you wanted him. Why had you even been the slightest bit in doubt?

“You can have it,” you heard yourself say and Rick’s breath hitched in his throat. It was true; all he had to do was take it and you would let him.

The room had no windows but it wasn’t soundproof, so when Rick pulled you in his arms, you had to keep yourself from yelping. It helped that he kissed you with a deep longing that had been there ever since you entered his class room, hands everywhere on your body as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

You held on for dear life, clinging to him and making sure to make little sounds that told him how much you enjoyed him. He pulled away briefly and whilst you breathed heavily to catch your breath again, he guided you towards his desk, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the thought of what could happen.

“A-a-all you had to do was ask, missy,” Rick said as he steered you, making you nearly stumble as your thighs bumped against the desk’s edge, “There was no need to get me all worked up in class.”

“You got worked up?” You giggled, grabbing at the edge of the desk to push yourself to sit on top of it, “What can I say then?”

“You were much worse than me, I-I’ll give you that,” he replied, hands on your thighs as you pulled him in for another kiss with a giggle that nearly ruined it. He tasted of a bitterness that could only be the result of horrible teacher’s lounge coffee but you didn’t mind when he opened his mouth against yours.

You made a promise of a blowjob for some other time as you sucked at the tip of his tongue briefly and teasingly, then pulled away to hear his moan and to drag your lips down his jaw to his neck, inhaling his cologne. He tipped his head back and you responded by kissing over his throat, “I’ve missed you.”

“Mhm…” His hands were finding the hem of your jeans, searching for your zipper to undo them. He really wanted more than just a make-out session then, and the idea of doing it right here on his desk whilst everyone, who indeed weren’t allowed to know, were on the other side of the door made your core shake.

“Turn around,” he finally said, and then it was as rushed as it had begun. You spun around and put your palms on the flat surface, gasping quietly to yourself and trying to focus on the poster of the periodic table as he pulled down your jeans and underwear with a rough hand. It was important to have a distraction, you thought to yourself, if you got lost in what he was about to do, you’d be a moaning mess like last time.

As you tried to recite the first eight elements from the poster in your head, you heard Rick unbuckle his belt behind you. The sound of the zipper made your focus shift back to him, and you looked over your shoulder with a dirty smile, “Will this make you forget today’s events in class, Mr. Sanchez?”

You bend down over the table, pushing your ass out to invite him in. You knew you were wet, and the way he cursed quietly was enough to tell you that you were probably glistening and ready for him.

“Say that again.”

“Say what, Mr. Sanchez?” You acted clueless.

“That,” he replied, and in the next moment you swallowed down a moan as you felt two fingers gently slide between your slick folds to feel you up. He teased your clit for just a second, clearly only wanting to feel how wet he had made you during class, and the snicker told you that he was beyond pleased with the result.

“Please,” you whined, pushing back into his hand as he cupped your cunt, fingers going back to rubbing you off. It felt good but the thought of his cock being right there behind you, made you reach back for his wrist, “How much time have we got?”

Rick looked at the clock above the door, “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

“Then please just fuck me,” you begged, letting your elbows rest on the table and waiting for him to enter you. You lifted your ass up again, spreading your legs slightly so he could see you better.

“You know, w-we could’ve done this at my place after classes,” Rick informed you, “We’d have more time.”

“You think I could wait that long?” You scoffed. Not in a million years were you going to deny yourself this fantasy, and Rick must have liked the idea of this as much as you because he did not protest.

You felt the head of his cock slide between your folds before pressing against your slit, and before you could moan for him, he entered you in one swift motion. Your hands gripped at the edges of the table as he filled you up to the brim, stretching you open just like he had done that wonderful night the two of you had shared.

“Oh,” you whimpered, your walls pulsing around him as they tried to adjust to his generous size. He shushed you, pulling back a little before pushing into you again.

“Quiet,” he said as he started a slow pace, one hand resting on the small of your back. He rolled his hips, teasing you despite knowing that you did not have all the time in the world; it wasn’t like last time. This would have to be a quickie, and the mere thought of a quickie on your chemistry professor’s desk was driving you mad.

“Feels so good,” you said through gritted teeth, reaching back to grip his hip and pull him closer. You wanted all of him inside you, and not just these shallow thrusts.

When his thighs met the back of yours, he pushed his weight further into you, making you almost lose contact with the floor. You had to rest your body on the hard surface, chest aching as you could only just stand on your toes but the way he could fuck you like this made up for it; the head of his cock nudged just right inside of you and each time, a new wave of pleasure rocketed up throughout your body.

Bony fingers came down to grip at your bare hip, digging so roughly into your skin that you had to chew on your bottom lip. The way his nails were making small marks burned but as he picked up the pace, you forgot to complain and absolutely relished in the way his cock continued sliding over your g-spot. You wanted to yell out, beg, scream, cry for more but the idea of getting caught was only thrilling in theory, and instead your teeth found you lip again and only a whine came out.

Rick was going fast now, holding your body in a tight grip and practically slamming into your pussy. If people didn’t hear you moan, they would surely notice the sound of skin against skin, or maybe the way that your knees were banging against the desk’s back.

“Oh fucking- your pussy is so f-fucking addictive,” Rick groaned behind you, and each of his sounds made you feel closer to the edge of orgasm; he was feeling so good that even broke his own rule and moaned right into your ear.

You felt the urge to moan out loud as well as you started clenching around him, orgasm so close that you could just taste the pleasure of it. As you were just about to cry out, you felt Rick’s weight on your back and realised he had leaned down over you, and soon, his hand snuck up to cover your mouth in an iron grip. He did the right thing, you thought to yourself, you were much louder than him and you knew.

“Shh- fuck,” he whispered in your ear but what did it matter to stay quiet when the desk was scraping across floor with his violent thrusts? If someone were to find you, he had basically asked for it with the way he was pounding your g-spot, and before you knew it, you were coming harder than you ever had as the dirtiness of the situation made your nerves feel on fire. You were shaking as you pulsed around him, your cries muffled by his hand and your clit was still untouched. How on Earth?

Rick slammed his hips forwards, pulling you down on his cock as well as he chased his own release, and within seconds, you felt his warm come fill you up and coat your walls. Jesus, you wanted him to tell him to stay inside you, so it wouldn’t spill but he was already going soft and it made you ache when he left you empty.

“That’s going to leave a mess in my underwear,” you said simply, reaching down to pull up your pants again. You grimaced, making a mental note to throw the pair of panties out when you got home instead of risking that your roommate saw them in the laundry basket, and then turned to face Rick again.

“You’d complain if I didn’t fill your pussy up like that,” Rick shrugged it off, buckling his belt as he watched you. He smirked and you guessed that your cheeks were a deep shade of scarlet from just having had pretty damn amazing sex.

“When can I see you next?” You asked, changing the subject and figuring that the bluntness was something he liked and sure enough, Rick’s smug smile only turned wider. He stepped closer.

“How about you c-come over this weekend?” He fixed his turtleneck collar, clearly expecting a yes.

“You gave us an assignment for Monday,” you replied, batting his hands away to fix the collar yourself. He did not mind.

“And you don’t want private tutoring?” Rick raised an eyebrow.

“Now that I think about it,” you said with an innocent voice, blinking up at him, “I have been struggling a little with focusing in class. Are you sure that can be helped, Mr. Sanchez?”

Rick swallowed thickly at the use of his title, “Oh, g-get out of here.”

You giggled, walking past him and heading for the door. You felt his hand slap your ass on the way, and when you unlocked the door, you briefly looked back at him, “I’ll be there Friday at 5 o’clock sharp.”