#symbolizing how her mind always comes back to herself for every good and bad thing

[kittemfang]

here's a riddle: what's hated by anyone with a brain, does menial, thankless labor, and will never amount to anything?

it's you, ivanna! it's always you!

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Does a bad ending ruin a good story? A comprehensive guide to my feelings on the Arcane finale

*Spoilers for Arcane season 2*

So. You just finished the show, and you're staring at the screen in bewilderment. Perhaps you’re even with some friends, shouting words of confusion to the rolling credits. Try as you might, you can barely hear them, because a single thought echoes in your mind and pushes away any other:

“What the fuck just happened?”

If this happened to you, then boy oh boy, we're on the same boat. If it didn't, well, I'm glad for you friend! We might not have been looking for the same things from this story. But this is my post, meaning I will give my opinions (which are objectively correct because this is my blog and I'm the mayor here) on everything that Arcane broke and failed to deliver in its last 2 episodes.

Let's start with characters, and why none of it mattered.

Jinx symbolized the fear we all have of not belonging somewhere, of not having anything to call home or anyone to call a family. Her anger stemmed from wanting to carve a place in a society and a world that had so harshly rejected her (i.e., Vi leaving her). Her existence was a huge middle finger to all that refused to let her live, a fight to build herself something wholeheartedly hers (hence her being an inventor). It was proof that despite the world telling her she was better off dead, she would never stop fighting to prove it wrong.

… and she died.

She died, and that means all the suffering she went through to exist simply amounted to nothing. She left nothing behind either, no trace of a legacy, something that would have left her mark on that world. Isha, the child she raised as a daughter, died. Silco, who she taught love and care to, died. Vander, who she brought back from years of trauma and torture, died. Jinx fought so hard to live, and in the end, it was as if she hadn't lived at all.

Viktor is most certainly the character that made me the angriest, because of how attached I am to the person he is in season 1 (and even the first two acts of season 2 to an extent). Everything that made him so beautifully complex… gone, in about 10 minutes. There was NO reason to make him the surprise ultimate villain. Viktor had always, always been a pacificist. That's why he was so adamant Hextech not be used as a weapon. That's why every time there were chances to test hextech to hurt, he tried to learn how it could heal. Yes, his fusion with the hexcore had changed him; but NOT into a man who didn't care for human life. He wanted to help all the hurt done to his people. People like him, living day to day in the undercity, but who had never gotten a chance to crawl out of their hell. His community was about HEALING, not controlling. The very IDEA that he would accept killing innocents and ally with Noxus, the warmongers, is so ridiculous I could genuinely laugh if it didn't make me so angry. The show needed an easy, black-and-white showdown to conclude a story that would have needed so much more time to tell. And they chose Viktor. Because it was the easy way out. It was the perfect foil to the return of the Golden Boy. And that PISSES me off.

There is this really shitty concept in popular media that the handicapped/chronically ill character is always in the pursuit of being “cured” and that they need outside help to realize “that their imperfections make them perfect”. Fuck. You. As someone with chronic illness and who just finished beating blood cancer, fuck you. That realization, that you're you with every part of your being, even the ‘bad’ ones, cannot come from outside. It's YOU who needs to learn it. It's you who needs to discover how your body and your mind are so much stronger than you previously thought them to be. Not your lover, your family, your friends, or God forbid your able-bodied lab partner. You. Others may tell you as many times as they want your illness doesn't define you; it won't matter until you, yourself, have understood why and have accepted it. Having someone swoop in and “fix” Viktor with a “you don't have to change uwu” is just….. so reductive I can barely find the words for it. That was VIKTOR’S path to find, and not Jayce’s role to find it for him.

Also… Viktor wasn't trying to ‘fix’ his leg; he was trying to find a cure to a deadly illness ravaging his body and no doubt the bodies of many in Zaun. The HELL is the message here??? That he should have just rolled with it because the deadly illness was part of him??? Again, as a cancer survivor. Fuck right off.

Of course, I can't just ignore the hideous get-up they put him in at the end. The man who laughed at Jayce's narcissism….you want me to believe… he would put on that fucking edge lord costume and not DIE of embarrassment??? The design makes no sense from a narrative standpoint either: if his cane has become the sceptre, why is he still keeping it? He doesn't need it anymore to walk, and it's a reminder of his weaknesses as a human that he apparently hated so much. Why the hell does he keep it then? And the hexclaw. Where did that bad boy come out from?? Did you all see a secret extra bonus scene where he steals it from the lab, because I sure didn't. It doesn't add anything to his sets of powers either it’s… it's a fucking laser gun. WHY. And oh sweet god that mask… there would have been so many ways of designing a mask more meaningful than the one from LoL. This one is just. A piece of metal he spawned in embryo. Get it? Because he's made of metal now and also hiding his face means no more humanity? Get it?? Of fucking course you do, because this was the easiest and worst possible way they could have integrated the mask.

Viktor and Jayce had a fantastic dynamic in that Viktor had started out as the loner, the underdog scientist from the slums; while Jayce was the leader figure, living in comfort that made him attachingly naive, his face plastered on posters stroking his ego. The shift is delightfully slow, as Viktor gains in confidence and determination to see his invention through no matter what, while Jayce is confronted with harsher and harsher truths about the world he so blissfully ignored. By Act 2, they have fully switched roles: Viktor is now the leader figure, a symbol of the future for the people, while Jayce is desperately alone, both physically in the hexcore anomaly, and mentally in being the only one who has seen the devastating future. Excellent stuff. What would be a great way to push these parallels further and to show the complexity of these characters, and perhaps how they can balance each other out? Well, Fortiche sure didn't know, now Viktor is the bad bad guy and Jayce is mister hero. Zaun bad, Piltover good. All nuance, gone. Proving that indeed, the man from poverty and inequality turns out evil, while the one from comfort and wealth turns out to be the hero of the story. The whole “giving a warm speech to the bad villain about how you care for them, somehow immediately changing their ways, and dying together to save the world” can work well in shounen anime where friendship is magic, or in the Ben 10 live-action movie (yes, that's the plot, I thought that wasn't deep when I was like 7 years old so imagine now), but not in a show like Arcane. Not with the ethical and moral nuances they have accustomed us to.

And now, let's explore...

Plotholes and incomplete storylines galore.

Ekko’s tree and the contamination of Zaun from Piltover? Fuck that. The huge showdown between the two opposite yet sister cities, like Jinx and Vi, that has been built up for two seasons? Fuck that. And for what?

For the Noxus sequel teaser.

Mel’s plotline about finding her mage origins had NOTHING to do with the main plot. Absolutely nothing. It added 0 twists or intrigues to the story, and served no purpose except making her a deus ex machina for a broken ending. All it was there for was to lay the base for a following show on Noxus and the Black Rose. Time that could have been spent either giving Mel a proper arc related to the plot, or giving all the other rushed character arcs more development.

Finally, and I deeply regret having to say this, but… the end of Vi and Cait's relationship was majorly disappointing to me. As an LGBTQ+ person myself, who feels attraction to women, it was a delight to have such a realistically portrayed w/w relationship on screen. Popular media tends to portray m/m relationships as these doomed, sinful feelings between two repressed guys, while w/w relationships are shown to just be all sunshine and rainbows and teddy bears, because two women together are a cute little accessory to have on screen. It’s non-threatening. But not Cait and Vi; their bond was raw, and rocky, with violent lows and passionate highs in a world that seemed to want to keep them apart. Their separation and the introduction of Maddie showed the reality of a w/w relationship, where fights and cheating ARE things that happen, because they're two adult women with different beliefs, objectives, an trauma. Putting them back together, as if nothing had happened, without giving us anything about how their relationship would have evolved from the breakup? I'd never thought I'd say this, but it's too easy. How about Caitlyn's literal descent into fascism??? We’ll just ignore that? Vi will just ignore that?

As with everything else, this last part of Arcane destroys all the complex emotions that exist between these characters, the resentment, the anger, the frustration, built upon years of different social conditioning… gone. Because they had 2 episodes left to wrap it up, and there was no way to make a coherent and natural transition to them getting back together with that kind of time. And can I just say. The decision to have Vi, symbol of Zaun, go down on Caitlyn, symbol of Piltover and enforcers, in a prison cell that has held innocent Zaunites and represents their complete lack of freedom as individuals by a cop state that oppresses them….. yeah, bad. So bad.

And… the multiverse. Yup, they went the multiverse route. Now, that's not necessarily a bad thing: the concept of multiverses itself is interesting in a vacuum, and quite a few properties have managed to make it work coherently. But it has been terribly overused and bastardized in serialized content in the last few years, for the simple reason that it's extremely practical. Why make a new, original series when you already have worlds and characters that are developed, and come with built-in fans? It's a money-saving hack! Why dedicate yourself to an ending that is meaningful in its finality and wraps the story properly when you can just say “It's just one ending in the multiverse!”. It takes away any accountability to the fans, and leaves the door open to a potential other version of the story! The perfect combo!

…except in practice, it comes off as lazy in a medium where that trope is overly saturated (don't start me on Marvel), and like a cowardly way of escaping from the responsibility of really taking the time to craft a good, solid ending to end your story.

So, with all that said: does it ruin Arcane for me? No, absolutely not, and I don’t think it should be for you either. The intricate artistry and raw talent that went into making the first season (and I would say a majority of the two first acts of season 2) is undeniable, and will stay undeniable. Nothing can touch that story. It will forever be one of my favourite pieces of animated media, which is saying a lot because I'm currently getting my master's degree on that topic.

However, it does give Arcane, as a whole rather than two separate seasons/entities, a very bittersweet feeling that is hard to forget. Thinking of what could have been, just if a little more time had been given to the minds behind the masterpiece you so loved… it's its own form of heartbreak. Academics have even compared it to experiencing a form of death of a loved one, before they ever got to reach their fullest potential and live the life they deserved. It may sound dramatic, but the feelings you feel in this moment, watching the horrible end of a fiction you have so much love for, are real. No one can take those away from you. You're allowed to grieve the loss of something that meant a lot to you.

Tldr; No, Arcane is not a bad series because of its rushed and incomprehensible ending. As they say, it's all about the journey, not the destination, even if that's one of the parts we tend to remember the most. And I don't know about you, but this was one of the best journeys I've ever been on.

[hellishvxbes]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Under a read more cuz its gonna get long. anyways, spoilers blah blah blah dont read if you wanna be spoiled

ALRIGHT.

First thing I'mma talk about is Millie and how I am afraid for Moxxie and Millie's marriage.

The fact that she is not excited about this pregnancy can be for a multitude of reasons. For every sad fuck who wants to project homophobia on her cuz she wanted to off two gay guys, so fuck yourself. Not only is she moody, everyone is seeing a family. A FAMILY. KIDS. Moxxie making his stance very clear that this was something he would step aside from if they went through with it. Moxxie already seems like he would LOVE to have kids.

She talked to her sister about it, and while she said she feels a little better, she still seems to have your doubts. Kids is so important to bring up to your parent BEFORE you get married. not everyone wants them. the reason me and this dude i knew from the beginning weren't gonna get along was cuz he wanted kids and I did not. for my own reasons. none of which are anyone's business. if the case that millie and moxxie did not have this conversation, it could rock their relationship pretty hard if Millie doesn't want to keep it. and there's a billion ways she could go about it. and not telling Moxxie right away, kind of scares me. but whatever her choice is, its her choice. it could be just, shes worried about how they will afford to raise a child, bringing a child into this world, maybe she isnt sure she'd be a good mother. maybe shes not ready to surrender what she has right now to take care of a child. there's so much that goes into it. but one way or another, i feel like moxxie might push a little too hard and it comes out in all the wrong ways. I just. they are so wholesome to me, they aren't perfect but they work on things so well SO LIKE IM SUPER WORRIED FOR MY BABIES.

SECONDLY. OCTAVIA

Now we've only really seen snippets and shes been the total cliches of a teenage daughter. Im really happy to see more and god I felt her pain so much. my situation is different, i want my parents to get fucking divorced, my father is an asshole and I tell my mom everyday how I would back her if she really wanted to leave my dad. it never happens tho. because they are looked up to members of the church, because divorce is against their religion. its just so infuriating seeing how much they dont like each other and they staying together. i hate hearing them fight. or when they bring me into their fights. each one talking about the other to me while i keep saying their marriage isn't mine to fix.

a lot of things octavia sang about were things I feel about my mom. I have a lot of anger and resentment for her, how she always chooses everyone else over me. and how everything just turns out a disappoint or a lie. so I see where her anger lies when she said Stolas choose 'him' over her. Her 'yeah I'll be okay but I'll never be the same' and honestly, stolas is a lot to blame for this. its hard being in a loveless relationship. especially when a child is involved, but all this, had he done it sooner when she was a child, it would still have some effects but i think it wouldn't have been as bad. Idk honestly if Octavia can see what a piling of shit her mother is BUT I DIGRESS. shes taking a decision, shes choosing to cut him out. maybe it will change but for now, that is where her mind and heart are at. shes protecting herself from more heart and disappointment despite how we all know she still loves and misses her dad. that will never change.

i love this bit of symbolism at looking at parts of his garden are already dying. plants need neutering, they need proper attention for them to grow, the same way every child needs their parent. it really shows how stolas's absence will change her.

2 points here. who the fuck is she talking to on the phone

and WHY ARE THEY ONLY RESORTED TO EVIL LAUGHTER. like okay i get you won. but is that honestly it from these two?? i want more from them, I know andre is more the brains here, but like, there needs to be more.

NEXT IS STOLAS

baby was having such a hard time, and he will still struggle. people being like 'he JUST now realizing he's poor' no he's been noticed, hes been in shock. like hes' literally just been holding it in, trying not to make a fuss about it cuz theres not much either him or stolas can do. the moment blitz is like 'you're gonna need to start making money come in now too right' he loses it cuz hes never had to work for anything in his life. it was inherited to him. the thought of actually being in the working class, working on a holiday , yeah like allll us bitches already know the struggle. hes brand baby new. so he has a breakdown. he says he was stupid, cuz at this point?? he doesn't think blitz would do the same for him. giving his life up for someone who doesnt see him the same way he does.

stolas punching him was a much needed thing to do, cuz everything else aside this motherfucker was fucking cheering for him to lose everything. fabricated everything. its really this guys fault for taking it this far. he absolutely deserved that. I also love the way andre was like fuck the goetia i'm gonna fucking kill you. also stolas's 'do it, pussy' WAS SO GOOD. HOW DEEP HIS VOICE GOT.

the way i snorted at this

the ending was sweet, the dance between stolas and blitz was cuteee but its gonna take time before these two can officially be happy. stolas is probably not gonna be with him fully until he has octavia. gets a chance to really explain himself to her. cuz right now, it would look like shes right if he allowed them to be together. and i know its what stolas wants deep down, but for him, his child comes first. and its cause some riffs, cuz blitz seems to finally come to terms with his feelings for him but stolas is now unsure. theres a lot more to consider now. and as a parent? its so hard to want to have things for yourself, when it will affect your child. and we know stolas feels the same, he wasn't upset anymore when he saw blitz risking his life to save his. his attitude toward that bit did change, now its other things that will keep them from being happy rn.

blitz bring up his sister hit a very hard place for me. one I can't even fully talk about for reasons I can't explain either. i just know how hard it is to, lose a sibling you were close to, and suddenly youre strangers. you learn to move on and adapt, but theres still that feeling. and soooo much shit that goes into it but yeah. emotions are abound yall

[monsterlover48]

Part 1: The Meeting

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Bodyguard!Orc x Princess!Reader

Summary: Y/N, the princess of Evermore, the beauty of the west. She had many suitors, many men, and women who wanted her by their side. Too bad her eyes were already set the day he came to save her life.

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks (sorta), medieval fighting

~~~ Princess Y/N was a kind soul. Always tended to her princess duties and went out of her way to give to the lower class. Everyone loved her, and they knew she would be a wonderful queen.

When word got out about the attempted assassination, the people were outraged that someone would dare hurt their beloved princess. Y/N Could still feel the man's glove-clad hand grasp her face to silence her screams every time she closed her eyes, and she didn't know how to get the image out of her head.

The morning breeze soothed her warm skin as she walked outside and into the growing gardens of her castle. The beautiful greens of the grass and plants paired with the myriad of colours that decorated the flowers set the frantic princess' mind at ease. She had one hell of a night, and it took hours for her to get a good night's rest. Her mind was plagued with nightmares of her death and the death of her people. She just wished it wouldn't come true.

Y/N had worn a lilac dress that morning, lace on the sleeves, and a large bow on the back. It was her favorite, and she wanted to wear it to bring up her mood. She didn't want anyone to see the wound on her arm, but the bulk of the bandages showed through her frilly sleeves.

"M'lady. The king requests you." Y/N handmaiden, Cassandra, spoke quietly, breaking the serenity of the garden. The princess's shoulders deflated, and she hung her head low before she smiled at her friend.

"Do you know what about?" She asked, linking her good arm with Cassandra's. The maiden giggled and shook her head playfully.

"Your knight is coming to protect you. They're having a contest to see who could protect you the best." Cassandra grinned. Y/N's cheeks flushed, and she gasped.

"Today? Do I look alright?" The woman began to unnecessarily judge herself, muttering curses of how she should have done her hair better.

"You look fine." Cassandra giggled. They walked down the large corridor and through the guards that stood straighter at the sight of their princess. Y/N nodded and bowed to everyone she passed politely, a smile stuck on her face in her princess facade.

"Daughter, you took long enough." Her father playfully scolded, holding a hand out to help her into the royal chair. They were in the courtyard where entertainers, fighters, or jousters came to do their thing.

As Y/N looked amongst the crowd, she saw many creatures in knight armor. Ranging from tieflings to humans. But one she hadn't seen before, someone massive in size. It was well known that Evermore was more of the accepting kind when it came to other races, but not many creatures of that size came to the lovely kingdom. And they were all fighting for her favor as a personal guard. She felt as though the taller one would win. She couldn't see his face or even his skin to tell what he could be, but she didn't care. The princess didn't necessarily want a personal guard, but if she was to get one, she wanted it to be someone who could truly protect her life.

"Which do you think would win, princess?" A voice asked behind her. Y/N turned to see a man she's never met before. He was handsome; bright blue eyes and dark brown hair with chiseled features, but she wasn't too interested. He smiled at her with an attempt to be charming, but she knew the play.

"The tall one." She replied, pointing towards the looming figure as he practiced by his lonesome.

"Ah yes, that one. He seems pretty strong." He chuckled, and Y/N realized he had an accent that wasn't from Evermore.

"What's your name?" Y/N asked curiously. However, before he could respond, the tournament speaker began his speech about the rules and how the tournament would go.

The trumpets sounded, and two knights stepped up before they began to fight. Swords clashing and metal banging sounded around the courtyard, and Y/N was on the edge of her seat every time a knight fell. She hoped they weren't too injured, but she had to admit, it was interesting to watch them fight.

By the time the last two were up, it was two large men, clad head to toe in thick armor, but Y/N noticed the one she kept her eyes on. The tall one with bulging muscles. She bit her lip as they started, gasping when the clashing of swords and their blasts against armor. But ultimately, she was correct; the tall one was the champion. The crowd cheered loudly as the last man fell, and the tall man roared triumphantly.

The princess stood from her place and straightened out the skirt of her dress. Everyone gasped when the creature took off his helmet, revealing an orc to be the champion. Orcs used to be the villains of Evermore's story, but the war had ended, and they were at peace. However, that doesn't mean many orcs came into Evermore and never came to protect their princess. Y/N looked around at the shocked faces of her people and squared her shoulders before she walked out of the royal seating and to the courtyard where the champion stood.

Everyone watched their princess with wary eyes and shifted in their seats as she approached him. The closer she looked, he was taller than she expected. Thrice her size, and he had a scowl upon his handsome features. His skin was a pale green, and he had large tusks sticking out from his mouth. His mean stare didn't detour the princess as she smiled and bowed politely to the knight.

"It seems you have won. What is your name?" She asked, clasping her hand behind her back. He huffed a piece of stray black hair away from his eyes, the long strands reaching past his shoulders. He bowed to her when she walked closer, propping his arm onto his knee.

"Rhudrak Fang Cracker." He replied. His voice was gruff, as though he had gargled rocks before he spoke.

"Well, Rhudrak Fang Cracker. It is nice to meet you. I will be happy to work with you." The crowd cheered then, the piercing noise almost startling the princess. She turned to look at the crowd before looking back at her knight.

"Yes! This man is my daughter's champion. The one who will protect her with his life. Do you agree?" Her father asked, walking into the courtyard as well. Her father was a very accepting man, and no matter the fact that he witnessed orcs kill many of his people, he would never discriminate against a man who wanted to protect his only daughter.

"I agree," Rhudrak responded. King Gustus nodded, and Y/N smiled at the crowd as the royal family plus the knight and other guards walked back to the castle. Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at the steely man. She found it very interesting that an orc would want to protect her. And he looked so mysterious. She just wandered-

"Y/N, dearest." Her mother scolded. Y/N tore her eyes away from her knight with warm cheeks and turned to her mother.

"Yes, mother?" She asked. Meira shook her head disapprovingly and continued walking.

"Your father was talking to you." She hissed. Y/N bowed her head in embarrassment, and she could've sworn she saw a ghost of a smile on her Rhudrak's face.

"While you were in your fantasy land, I was discussing the rules of your supervisor and how you must act." He told her with a kind and understanding smile. Y/N was very close to her father, and she was glad to have him understand how easy it was for her to get lost in the clouds. Unlike her strict mother.

"What are his rules?"

"No. Your rules." Her father corrected. Y/N gasped and choked on her spit before she looked at the people in front of her.

"What do you mean 'my' rules?" Y/N asked incredulously.

"You are not to leave the sight of Rhudrak. The only time you will be alone is when in your chambers, safe. You will do what he asks of you. If he tells you to run, to hide, or even to walk, you do it. He is there to protect you; let him do his job. No running around the halls in the middle of the nights anymore. People are after you, my dear, and I couldn't stand losing you. It almost happened once, and I will not let it happen again." Her father told her. She wanted to roll her eyes, to pout and say 'not fair.' But she almost died that night. The visions still haunt her in her sleep and even during the day. She knew if she wanted to survive, she must do what her father asks of her.

"Yes, father." She replied solemnly, all traces of humor gone from the conversation.

"Now go make yourselves acquainted while showing him his room. It's the one next to yours." Y/N nodded and looked at her parents awkwardly as they walked away.

"Your room is this way on the third floor," Y/N spoke. She was exhausted from the excitement of the day and had zero social energy, but she knew she had to do it anyways.

"Third floor? How do you even get upstairs with those tiny shoes on?" Rhudrak chuckled. Y/N hid her giggle behind her hand and shook her head as they approached the stairway.

"With difficulty. Try walking around hours a day with a corset on." She scoffed. Rhudrak laughed loudly but quickly quieted down.

"Tell me about the night of your attack." He asked suddenly. Y/N was taken aback by the sudden question as they walked up the many stairs.

"Well... I couldn't sleep. I think that's the only reason I'm alive right now. He wore a black mask with strange symbols on it. He was human-sized. That's all remember." She said. She was lying of course. She could remember so much more. The blue of his eyes and the stench of leather as his hand clamped down onto her mouth. She couldn't breathe when he sat on her. She felt hopeless and the gleam of the moonlight on his blade made her shiver with unease.

"Princess?" Rhudrak asked gently, looking at her with a thoughtful gaze. She snapped out of her wandering thoughts and shook her head with a smile.

"Well, here you are. My chambers are right here. I'll let you get settled in." She said with a bow, walking back to her room. She shut the door gently and allowed herself to break slightly at the memory of her attack, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks.

Taglist!

@vanta-monsters @inosh-k @sylum

[roger-that-cap]

what a lovely dream it is

english major!wanda x english major!fem!reader

summary: who would have thought that wanda, the self proclaimed queen of reading science fiction, would be just as obsessed with shakespeare as you? 

warnings: one use of the word “su*cide”. shakespeare. nerds quoting lines. bad writing. (i challenged myself into writing this in an hour and a half). cringey writing (there is a difference)

word count: 4k!

You and Wanda connected at first because you two spoke the same language from different regions. It felt like she spoke British English, and you spoke American English. You were on the same wavelength but not exactly the same individual wave, but it was as close as you had ever gotten with someone who you deemed worth your time. 

While everyone else was partying or drinking until they threw up or flaunting around bags with white powder in them, you sat with your back to the wall after studying, reading a classic, knowing that the change of her leaning against the same wall and doing the exact same thing you were was high. 

You met her in the library, on your third day at your university. You were trying to find your group of authors, your little nook where you would feel the safest in the entire school. You had stumbled right into the fantasy section, looked around for a second, and then tripped over a brown boot that was just at the start of the science fiction shelf. 

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice murmured, and you just shook your head and said that it was okay, much more interested in the way that your hands suffered from the fall on the carpet than the girl. Until you looked up. 

It was everything about her that stunned you. The brown hair, the flush of her cheeks, the apologetic look in her pale blue eyes that caressed her features to sit in one beautiful and genuine expression. The moment your eyes landed on her, you swore that your heart stopped and started in the same second, and then took a run for it with all of the parts of your brain that you needed to make a coherent thought. 

 You promised yourself in that moment that you would never forget the way the woman in front of you looked. And despite seeing hundreds of more faces throughout your self-tour, you never truly did forget it. If you didn’t know any better, if you were perhaps any younger and less exposed to the cruelty of the world and fate and its way of not giving you what you wanted, you would have been certain that the universe had finally given you the contemporary meet cute that you yearned for. 

But then, you saw which aisle she was in. You looked at the books and recognized the authors just to be sure, and then you turned to look at her. “You’re into science fiction?” 

 Her apologetic look fell completely into a look of pure surprise, and then excitement, almost as if she thought that she found someone else who liked the genre she did. “Well, it’s the best genre that was ever written.” 

  “Wow, how wrong,” you found yourself saying, and somehow, you knew that the look of offense on her face was all for fun. “It’s definitely gothic literature.” The look she gave you was one that you would never forget. 

  A week later, you ran into her in the cafeteria, holding a copy of The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, your beat up one from home that you would put your life on the line for. The cover was torn up a bit and the pages were dog eared, from a time where you hadn’t discovered the way that bookmarks changed lives. It was the copy your cousin got you, and it was your favorite gift to date. 

  She was holding The Martian Chronicles. You nearly gagged. 

At first, you thought she hadn’t seen you, or hadn’t recognized you, which was even worse. You sighed under your breath and said, “at least it’s not Nineteen Eighty Four,” and watched in complete horror as she turned around. 

She locked eyes with you immediately, and her own eyes widened when she saw you, and then she grinned when she undoubtedly recognized you and your disdain for science fiction. “No, it’s even better than Nineteen Eighty Four.” 

“Anything is better than that,” you said, swallowing down your nerves at speaking to the girl again, kicking yourself for being so nervous despite not even knowing her name. 

She gave you that same “offended” look she gave you during your first interaction, and you cracked a small smile. “Um, don’t you voluntarily go into the gothic section?” 

The smile dropped. “The most valid section in the library? Sure do.” 

She smiled too, a genuine grin as she took a step forward and extended her hand. For a second, you just looked at it, the calmness that came with the discussion of literature suddenly washed away so far back into your mind that you panicked for a moment, not reaching for her hand until you saw it shake in just the slightest, like she was regretting even doing it. 

You nearly bumped your elbow on the table trying to stand up and shake her hand. Your hands connected and you grinned so wide it felt like your face had split open. You told her your name and she repeated it to make sure she had heard you loud and clear, and then, she smiled even brighter. 

“Nice to meet you, Dracula. I’m Wanda.” And that was where it started. 

As your library meetups started to become more intentional than not, you learned that not only was Wanda a student that stayed in the dorms, but the student who was next door to you. You learned that she pretty much kept to herself for the most part besides a few other people at the university, and that she kept a small circle. You learned that her favorite book was Brave New World. You learned that she would rather shy away from classic romance novels, even though you didn’t mind them, and that she hated gothic literature. You loved it. Your favorite book was The Picture of Dorian Gray, for god's sake. So, you hated each other’s favorite genres. 

  But you both loved symbolism. And you were both English majors. And for some very odd, very coincidental reason, you both met in what was nowhere near the middle- Shakespearean plays. 

  Now, that was something that you were always made fun of for as a child. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who quoted Shakespeare, especially if it wasn’t even from Romeo and Juliet. Reading normal books just made you look “smart”, but you knew that genuinely enjoying plays would make you look pretentious. So you had always kept it to yourself when you left your hometown. Until Wanda came along. 

Wanda came along, and suddenly, you found yourself quoting tragedies and getting the correct response back. Sometimes, she would even start it first. You would do nerdy things like halfway reenact scenes because even you guys weren’t that nerdy… you supposed. 

One morning, you and Wanda were in a study group (that was hardly productive because it was just Wanda’s little circle that was actually astoundingly close), and she looked over your shoulder to see your computer, where you were hardly typing an essay about the importance of the establishment of places for higher education. She put her chin against your shoulder, sat there for a minute, and then turned her head to whisper in your ear, “nothing will come of nothing.” It was embarrassing, the way your eyes lit up at hearing her voice, and even more so when Natasha, Wanda’s extremely perceptive friend, picked up on what you were feeling. The red head shot you the widest grin ever known to man. 

“C’mere, Frankenstein,” Wanda said one night, already looking over at you while you tried to finish your work for the day.

You held back the smile on your face as you sat on your bed, one leg over it while you typed. “I’m right here.” 

“No, here,” she emphasized, and then she was patting the spot on the small couch in your room, the same look in her eyes that always came with when she asked for any kind of physical contact. 

  That was by far the worst thing about Wanda, and it hardly had anything to do with her. She was touch starved, and touch was your love language. Her asking you to hold her on the couch used to mean nothing to you, because at one point, you just thought she was pretty. But now, holding her hand on top of the table while you both were submerged in your respective worlds felt like a promise ring. Letting her rest her head on your shoulder and in your neck felt like giving your vulnerability over to her, and feeling her hand rub against your back felt like she was taking it and guarding it. But you knew she didn’t feel the same way, not at all. 

She was straight. 

But it did you no good when she quoted back some of your favorite lines. It didn’t help when she said all of the romantic lines towards you at the drop of a hat, almost like she didn’t even realize what she was saying. She didn’t understand the way your heart died and was revived every time she said something like that, something that was so dear and vulnerable to you. And she certainly never would, because you would never tell her. 

Now that you thought about it, allowing yourself to fall for her was the dumbest and most destructive thing you could have ever done. The first bookworm who didn’t make fun of you for your knowledge and love of old plays was the one that took hold of your heart, and now you were paying for being such an idiot. Now you would have to sit through three more years of school with her being your friend, just your friend, while you pined over her. It was going to be hell.  

And was it. You had to sit through her saying the most romantic of Shakespearean quotes every day and act like she wasn’t making your heart shake. You had to listen to her speaking the language that you two shared and pretend that you just wanted to be her friend. You were so attached to her and everything that you two had established together, and you couldn’t ruin it by giving her googly eyes. She was way too important for that. Because now, she was way more than a person who you could talk to about old plays. She was the person that you could talk to about anything, without a doubt. Anything but the intense crush that you were harboring for her, and the way that she made your heart sing and your soul ascend whenever you smelled her perfume or saw her smile. Anything but that. 

§§

 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” You looked up from your book only to see Wanda looking over at you, lying down on the blanket and just watching you. You swore later on when you were alone that you imagined it, but for a moment you could have sworn that you saw a flash of adoration in her eyes. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” 

You were choking on the inside. Your face was blank, but your mind was going haywire, and you couldn't think of anhytnign besides holding back the urge to say something that you had no chance of taking back. “You’re in a sonnet mood today, aren’t you?” 

“And what mood are you in today, Jekyll?” 

“I’m in the mood to finish this book,” you teased, and she rolled her eyes. 

“What if I’m in the mood to sit and watch a movie?” 

“Then you should do it,” you said, going the way your heart clenched at the thought of her cutting your friendly outing short. “I’ll follow you in an hour or two.”

She gave you a look. “You know I don’t go anywhere without you.”  

“You can go watch a movie, Wands.” You sighed out, closing your book and wedging your pointer finger between the pages so that you wouldn't get lost. 

 “I’ll wait,” she said, and you shook your head at her. 

“I don’t want to hold you back from getting in time with your favorite sci fi movies.”

“Can I go forward when my heart is here?”  

You were hit with such a wave of longing that you had to shut your eyes for a moment, but it looked like it was simply a long blink. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“I want to hear one,” Wanda said, leaning on her elbows as she stared up at you, and your heart pounded. She looked celestial, glowing under the sunlight with growing grass around her and a sweet smile budding on her face. “You never quote any back to me anymore, you know?” 

You knew, for sure. It was on purpose that you didn’t quote back. If you were to continue the conversation in romantic quotes, it was going to feel way too real to you. You could handle Wanda and her touches, but you were not going to be able to handle quoting Romeo and Juliet to her. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, and then you heard her make a sound with her tongue, a displeased clicking noise.

  You looked up at her and lost your breath again, and your mental footing. There she was, looking up at you with her pretty eyes, giving you a look more intense than she had ever given you before. She was… it was almost like she was waiting for something, like she knew something. She was staring up at you and leaning on her hand in a way that was so oddly domestic in your mind, and you could almost see in your mind the way that she would do that if you woke up in the same bed, like she was waiting for you to wake up and trying to memorize your face. It made you warm on the inside, and just like she always managed to do, your brain turned to mush. 

“Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” you blurt, and you saw her brows pull in for a second. You blinked. 

  “Huh?” 

You were panicking on the inside. There were plenty of ways that she could have taken the quote that you had chosen, but you knew exactly what it sounded like. A half assed love confession. “You know, from Hamlet,” 

“Of course I know it’s from Hamlet, Jekyll.” She shook her head at you and sat up, crossing her legs without breaking eye contact. “But why that quote? You know so many, and you chose the one about death.” 

Unfortunately, it’s death by silence in this context, not by swords. “You said you wanted to hear a line,” you said, shrugging as you opened your book, trying to get rid of the embarrassment that you knew would stick to you for hours and hours. 

 “What a line,” she said, and then she rolled over to look up at the sky. Minutes later, you heard her sigh. “What a line.” 

§§

Romeo + Juliet was a classic for your movie night. At first, Wanda showed it to you after you boycotted it for years, despite your male celebrity crush being one of the main characters in it. You had always avoided watching because of the modernism, but one Wanda made you sit down and watch it, you actually found good things about it. For instance, the party scene. 

  “It was done wonderfully,” Wanda would always say from beside you after your extremely predictable comment of the scene being a masterpiece. 

Like always, there were a few moments of silence as you two watched the movie together, shoulder to shoulder on the small couch in your dorm while your roommate was off getting high. You watched the rest of it in near silence, halfway focused on the movie while the other part of your mind was split in two; feeling blessed that Wanda was even there with you, soclose, and feeling cursed that she was so close but so far. It was the perfect moment to hold her close like you wanted to so badly, but the timing wasn’t right. And that killed you. 

“Do you ever think about how they fell in love so fast?” Wanda asked, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’d say that they were encroaching on soulmate territory.” 

“Soulmates, or foolish teenagers?” 

“I hardly know of any teenagers who would die for each other, even if they thought they were in love,” Wanda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t give me that face. I’m right, and you know it.” 

“I’ll always let you believe it, sci fi.” 

“But, really, don’t you ever want something like that?” 

You turned your face from the screen and looked at her incredulously, like she had gone mad while completing the process of growing three heads. “A suicide pact?” 

She groaned and threw her head back. “No. A love like that. Take away the death and violence, and look at what they had.” 

“It bloomed too quickly to have much potential later in life,” you countered. “That was infatuation, and that never lasts long.”

“You think that they both died for infatuation?”

“I think that they were young, and it’s hard to tell the difference between love and infatuation at any age, let alone as a teenager. I think they thought they loved each other to the ends of the earth, but I guess they’ll never know.” 

“You’re so cynical. Just like a person whose favorite is gothic literature.” You laughed, leaning forward towards her without even noticing what you were doing. “Do you believe in love?” 

“Of course I do,” you answered, giving her a look. “I’m just saying, Romeo and Juliet were not in true love. They were confused.” 

Then, the playful air that the conversation was flowing on changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash and your heart started racing. The way Wanda was looking at you sent a chill down your spine, and in that moment, you were worried. “Are you confused?” 

You took in a breath. “About what?” 

“About anything,” she said slowly, almost like she felt like she was walking on thin ice with skates on. “Books, people, love, food, sexuality,” she ignored the way that you choked, “writing a paper, how to get  a strike in bowling. Or how to realize that Romeo and Juliet were definitely in love.” 

“You’re so intent on proving that they were to me,” you said, a laugh bubbling over and into your words. “Why are you suddenly so passionate about them now?” 

“The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.” 

Your heart jumped out of your chest again, and your hands clenched into weak  fists as you tried to will yourself into not assuming that she was talking about you. And then, white hot panic struck you at the thought of her being in love with someone else. “Speak low if you speak of love.” 

“Why should I?” Wands asked, shifting from her position on the couch to put a hand under her chin and watch you, her kind eyes afire with something that you had yet to see in them yet. “Really, Jekyll. Why?”

You hardly waited a full second before responding as truthfully as you ever would. “I’m afraid.” Before she could get a word in, you shook your head and finally loosened your lips, letting all of your worries and fears slide right through your teeth. “I’m afraid that I’ve fallen in love with someone who can never love me back. I’m scared to admit that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.  I’m afraid that you aren’t into girls.” You saw her make a face, almost like she couldn't believe that you were even suggesting the things that you were. “I don’t quote Shakespeare to you anymore because it feels too real to have you say lines like that back to me. I think that I’ve latched onto you without even meaning to, and now I don’t know if I can ever let you go.” 

Wanda was silent. She was watching you, as quietly as the sun hovered over the earth while she shone her light. Your heart had never beat so fast before as you watched her watch you with a face so blank that you were sure that she hadn’t retained a damn thing that you pulled from the depths of your heart. Then, the daunting thought that she had heard and understood everything but chose not to act swallowed you whole, and your hands started to shake. You gave a humorless laugh and finally looked away from the woman who had raised your spirits and crushed them all within five minutes. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” 

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head and closing your eyes for a second as hot tears burned in them. When they opened, a fat tear sappetered onto your hand. I’m such an idiot. You looked to the screen, and then saw Romeo screaming, on the ground, and you could hear the words even though your ears were rushing with blood. I defy you, stars. “You don't have to say anything back, I know you don’t feel the same.” Your eyes pulled away from the screen. “I can leave- wait, um, this is my dorm. I-” 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” Wanda started slowly, and your brows furrowed as you heard the words fall from her lips. Fuck. You knew what this ended with, and still, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

Your eyes were wide by the end of it, watery and fixed on her. “W-what?” 

“How could you not have known?” Wanda asked softly, and you but your lip to stop from bursting into tears. 

“I thought you were straight!” You accused, and to your surprise, she laughed. 

“No, sweetheart.” Your heart stuttered. “I’m not.” 

Your breathing was still slightly heavy as you tried to get a  grip on everything that was happening. “You… you feel the same way?” 

“Of course I do, Jekyll.” She said, and you found yourself falling for her expressive eyes all over again as she stared up at you.  You reached your hand out experimentally, like she did the second time you ever met, and you waited that torturous moment for her to take your hand in a way that was much different than all the other times you shared a touch. This touch was the moment of truth.

She took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and put your palm on her cheek. 

“The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.” 

“This can’t be anything but a dream,” you murmured, feeling her cheek in your hand and the way they were warm and flushed. The softness was bringing you in and out of your head, and every time you went back to reality, you were thrusted into a little sliver of paradise. 

“Well, what a lovely dream it is, then.” Her lips found yours. The movie played on, the clock kept its incessant ticking, and your leg was starting to tingle from sitting on it in the same position for so long. But to you, time absolutely stopped. And as long as a particular science fiction nerd was in front of you, nothing that ticked or clicked or buzzed was ever going to matter. 

*******

i said i wasn’t going to post this, but i did it anyway!! hope you guys enjoyed this fic!! it was a lot of fun to write but it also made me mad nervous LMAO let’s hope this wasn’t absolute dogshit

@teenwonder i know you said you wanted a tag on my stuff so here it is, love!! 💕💕

[robininthelabyrinth]

anything with jin zixuan marrying into the jiang sect, instead of jiang yanli marrying out?

ao3

It wasn’t that Jin Zixuan didn’t love his mother – he did, he truly did. He loved her, he supported her, he stood by her side in every argument. He would do anything within his power to help her get everything that she wanted.

It was only that he took a very reasonable look at the circumstances and realized he couldn’t. He couldn’t get her the one thing she’d always counted for.

He couldn’t win the right of succession to be Sect Leader Jin.

Maybe if his mother had managed to stop his father from bringing home all his bastards – there were nineteen of them, all together, and those were just the ones that were willing to admit it so who even knew – he might’ve had a better chance, given that he was after all the sole legitimate son. But legitimacy only took you so far: he was neither the oldest of the children, nor the most capable, nor the most cunning. He wasn’t even the best connected, despite his maternal family’s support; that honor went to another one of his siblings, born to an especially well-connected family through unspecified circumstances that might or might not involve rape but which sufficient money had plastered over.

The only thing Jin Zixuan had going for him was his legitimacy, but his father had long ago taught him - however inadvertently - that there wasn’t anything magical about a wedding ceremony that made him better suited to the role of sect leader.

What’s more, in his heart of hearts, Jin Zixuan didn’t even want it.

He wasn’t – he didn’t really like fighting. Or politics, or scheming, or any of it. It just wasn’t his personality. He didn’t like games of influence, he didn’t like backstabbing people that trusted him, he didn’t like gossiping and slandering and not being able to believe in people’s good faith and any of that, and no matter how much his mom pushed him, he didn’t think he’d ever like it. 

But that was what Lanling Jin did, what Jilin Tower was like, and if he wanted to take up the Sect Leader’s seat and reside in the Fragrant Palace, he had to get over himself and accept that that’s what the rest of his life would be like.

Forever.

Until someone murdered him and took his place, anyway. It almost felt inevitable, sometimes. 

Or, because he really truly didn’t want the job, because he really truly didn’t want to die, he could try to think of something else. Some way out.

For example, he could, and did, go to Jin Ziyao and ask him for help.

Jin Ziyao stared at him, eyes narrow and calculating as they so rarely were – he was very good at keeping a bland polite smile on his face, the best at it of all the people Jin Zixuan had ever met, and he’d met a lot. 

“That’s an interesting thing to say, brother,” he said, gently eliding as always the fact that they were the same age, born on the same day to different mothers. “Very interesting indeed. I must ask, though - why are you saying it to me?”

“Because you’d be the best at the job,” Jin Zixuan said honestly. He really thought so: Jin Ziyao was smart and clever, cunning enough to wear a kind face and tricky enough to actually pull off the impression of actually being kind, since people were more willing to forgive kind people, but also ambitious and ruthless enough to survive and maybe even thrive in the political world the way Jin Zixuan wasn’t. “And because you’re smart enough to come up with a way for me to get out of this without dying, if you wanted to.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would I want to?”

And that was the rub, wasn’t it? Jin Zixuan was the legitimate son, the rightful heir, and his father, their father, was just as likely to name Jin Zixuan as the next sect leader no matter how unfit for the role he was on nothing more than that basis as he was to name anyone else with a much stronger claim. 

It was in everyone else’s best interest to kill him, if they were ambitious.

Maybe not his sisters. They wouldn’t inherit no matter what happened to him.

(Sometimes Jin Zixuan wished he was lucky enough to be born a nobody, little Jin Ziyu, who just wanted to play with make-up and avoid all contact with his maternal Mo family. Nobody cared about Jin Ziyu, and everyone liked it that way.)

“You know my position,” Jin Zixuan explained. He didn’t need to say it out loud; he was bitterly aware that it was basically his only personality trait: legitimate heir of Jin Guangshan, the rich boy everyone thought would be the next sect leader unless someone else got in the way. “My support could be worth something to you.”

“Especially if it’s sincere,” Jin Ziyao murmured, looking thoughtful, contemplative. It wasn’t an outright no, anyway, or at least not yet. “And you would be sincere, wouldn’t you?”

“There’s a reason I said that I’m not fit for the role,” Jin Zixuan replied, his voice dry to hide the fact that his heart was in his throat. Jin Ziyao was the one most likely to succeed in finding a way to get him out of this mess, but he was also the most likely to figure out a way to kill him without being blamed for it, too.  There was a reason he’d come to him, but that reason was the danger - who was to say that Jin Ziyao wouldn’t decide it’d be safer to kill him, and to use this to accomplish it? He could be signing his own death warrant. “And even if you’re smart, competent, good at managing things, well-connected, and well-liked, you can still use my help.”

Jin Ziyao had only a single fault: his mother had been a prostitute. People still judged him for that, something which made no sense to Jin Zixuan whatsoever – it wasn’t Jin Ziyao’s fault what his mother did before he was born – but it meant he lacked legitimacy even more than the others. 

Having the legitimate son backing his claim would be a strong argument in favor of overlooking that.

“You know your mother won’t like it,” Jin Ziyao said. Testing, probing; he hadn’t agreed yet.

“I know,” Jin Zixuan said simply. “But I hope that she’d like me being dead less.”

He wasn’t actually sure about that. His mother loved him, yes, but he had never entirely determined if she loved him for himself or as an extension of herself – a symbol of what she would be fighting towards. A sign that her struggles with her husband had a purpose, that all her humiliation would one day be worth it.

That one day, when he was sect leader, she would become the true power in Lanling through him. 

(Jin Zixuan didn’t know what she imagined would happen to all his illegitimate brothers and sisters in that situation, and he didn’t want to; it put a sick feeling in his gut to think about it – which he supposed meant he did know, after all, what she would want, but was instead choosing to ignore it.)

Jin Ziyao studied him for a long moment, presumably trying to analyze his sincerity and how firm he was on the idea. 

Jin Zixuan didn’t rush him, knowing it was a gamble on his side as well: it would be worse for him to help Jin Zixuan out of the line of succession only for Jin Zixuan to change his mind down the road. It would make him look bad, make him a target for the others, and the backstabbing nature of Lanling politics meant that luring someone in with a request for aid was exactly the sort of trap someone might lay out.

Sometimes, Jin Zixuan was really, really tired of Lanling.

Maybe something of that showed on his face, because just when he was starting to lose hope, Jin Ziyao abruptly nodded – almost to himself – and said, “All right. How about your marriage?”

“What about my marriage?” Jin Zixuan asked, puzzled. 

He’d been engaged to his mother’s best friend’s daughter since before he was born, and amazingly enough the engagement had held despite everything – probably because they had barely met, to be perfectly honest. And also the fact that being surrounded by brothers that hid daggers in their smiles gave Jin Zixuan enough experience to realize that he was being deliberately incited when his so-called friends started telling him that he deserved better than a girl most often described simply as being nice.

After all, he’d already started doubting by that time that he even deserved the accident of his legitimate birth, so forget deserving any girl.

Also, being nice sounded…rather nice, actually. Certainly a relief, assuming she was actually nice rather than just pretending to be the way so many of his sisters were.

(None of them liked her, which suggested she might be.)

“You should get to know your intended better,” Jin Ziyao said. “Visit her more often.”

Jin Zixuan really wasn’t seeing the connection between that and his request for assistance, and Jin Ziyao’s gaze softened a little bit, though Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure if it was with sympathy or merely pity.

“It’ll make it easier for you,” he clarified. “For when you marry in.”

Marry in?

Marry in. The Jiang sect was a Great Sect, with enough power and influence to make unreasonable demands – and his father desperately wanted the alliance with them. If they could be convinced to demand that he marry in rather than having Jiang Yanli marry out, pointing to their smaller numbers or the tragedies that had befallen their sect…

Jiang Cheng would like having his sister around. He was also notoriously standoffish around women, and had viciously rejected any effort to be matched with one of the illegitimate Jin girls; it might even be possible to suggest to his father that allowing Jin Zixuan to marry in would mean that there was a chance that Jiang Cheng would be willing to leave his sect to a nephew surnamed Jiang, winning the Jin sect both an alliance and inheritance all at once.

Best of all, it had to be him. The Jiang sect had only agreed to the engagement because of Madame Yu’s friendship with his mother, not for any political reason; if his father tried to substitute him with someone else, they might break it entirely…

And someone who married out couldn’t be the heir.

“You’re a genius,” Jin Zixuan told his brother, who smiled crookedly in acknowledgement. “What should I do? Do I just – go over there? Send a letter? I can’t write letters…”

“Let me think about it,” Jin Ziyao said. “I’m sure I can come up with something more subtle than you.”

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

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[fuckinfruitybitch]

I knew Akito was gonna be a huge topic of debate, but for some reason I figured Akigure was going to be overlooked. In my opinion, their relationship is the second most important in the series. I know they’re a toxic pairing, but that’s they’re point. Akigure teaches us a few lessons.

Healthy relationships are built

We are responsible for our relationships

Clean slates do not exist

Fruba is all about examining different relationships between different people. The main couple is Kyoru, and are a shining example of a healthy couple. They listen to and support each other. Throughout the whole series they help each other grow and know they are loved. They don’t fight, they communicate. I love them. But the thing is, of course they are healthy. They are characters we’ve always seen as good. As rocky as they’re friendship was in the beginning, there was no malice. Of course they’d have a healthy romance.

Akigure however is the exact opposite. The two are abusive in different ways to each other and other characters. They began loving and innocent (the garden and flowers) but as of now that’s soured. Looking at it, they should not be together. But having them get together in the end symbolizes the enduring nature of love. I don’t excuse anything they’ve done, which I’ll get to in my next point, but I think they showcase forgiveness. If a relationship is no longer working, it’s time to jump ship, that seems to be a common mindset. But the thing is healthy relationships don’t just happen. Even with Kyo and Tohru those two worked through a lot of damage before getting together. Akito and Shigure have a whole lifetime of damage, some of which they inflicted on each other they need to work through. While it would be easy to just break up, that’s not what they want. Every relationship is hard, and you have to continually work to keep it healthy. Having these two flawed characters in a flawed relationship working to become better shows us that we can become better too. Everyone deserves a healthy relationship, but they’ll only get it if they work for it. It won’t be handed to you and you won’t have the perfect match, you make that. These two are so far from being healthy, but admitting their problems is the entrance to a new relationship that can be healthy. Shigure didn’t want to love Akito because she was a god, he wanted to love her because she was Akito. So he needed her to realize that, and if she wouldn’t be herself, he made it so she would never see his true self. This beginning isn’t just in their relationship, it’s a new life where neither one is playing a part, they’ve come to the garden, uninhibited and honest.

Now, a lot of people think Akito should have been single to rebuild herself. I can’t say I disagree completely, I wouldn’t have minded this. BUT considering her fears of abandonment I think this is just bad. She’s already dealing with the loss of the rest of the zodiac and the identity she’s held since birth. She needs someone in her corner. While Tohru is there, I don’t think that would be fair to Tohru, and Akito still holds Tohru in a very high regard. I think akito would always compare herself to her, and that isn’t good for mental health. Shigure, she trusts him. And I get she’s afraid of him and resentful, but I still think she trusts him more than anybody, I mean the guy even knew about that empty box. So she needs someone to help her regain her footing and not fall back into bad habits, because while Shigure did let her run wild, he didn’t like what she was doing. Another thing is, if we jsut removed her from Shigure and away from the Sohmas, it’s like saying she is a result of her environment. While I believe that’s a factor, it assuages her from responsibility. Akito is the only person responsible for how she treated others. Most of the Sohmas are kind people, despite the damage, but Akito was cruel and abusive. While there is possibility of forgiveness, she is wholeheartedly responsible for every horrible action. She needs to learn how to be good even in a problematic environment, even around people she hasn’t been good to, so she can never blame her actions on the environment. Being able to become better with someone else who isn’t exactly a gold star showcases that anyone can become better.

And the final point, Akigure represents clean slates are impossible. The two do symbolically begin again, but the history is still there. The memory is there, and they have to work with all of that. Akito has to work with the Sohma clan. Shigure has to see Ren and remember what he’s done. And while I don’t think trauma should be glamorized, sometimes you need to deal with the bad to end up with the good. Akito is learning how to be a good person from the guilt and pain of her past. While she can grant future generations a better slate, it will always be a bit tainted. Her relationship with Shigure will always have a bad past, but that doesn’t mean they have to continue that. And going back to the second point, realistically, no once can ever jsut get a brand new life. Traces of the past will always seep in. So Akigure is a relationship that shows how you can still find happiness in a tainted place. The slate will never be pristine, but you can try your best to wash it. I guess that’s the point. These two can be happy and love each other, and it won’t erase anything that’s happened, but it’ll provide us hope. If there’s not hope for a better tomorrow or love, these things can’t come to fruition.

[brb-screaming-over-amphibia]

Theories +Wishlist for s3

(these were made before the sneak peak and poster so some is confirmed/non-canon sorry!) Theories:

-I’m thinking that the first ep of Amphibia will have the Plantar family trying to cheer up Anne/get her mind off of things for a bit by going to places she likes (but they keep backfiring bc they’re places she, Sasha, and Marcy all went to) -At the end though, it has Anne find a way to really talk about how she’s feeling and acknowledge that one fun trip to the mall isn’t going to solve everything and that she’s still going to have moments where she’s sad and dealing with her grief but she can always count on her family and friends to be there for her when she needs them -(+ a bonus: don’t forget to live in the moment and appreciate what you have right now moments bc I feel like that’s a huge theme that will be there throughout the season)

-Sasha’s parents are neglectful (I’m thinking they might be rich and busy so that’s why, possibly controlling too), I just think it makes a lot of sense regarding her personality and attitude  -them being divorced would make sense too!

-Beach episode!!! BEACH EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (maybe have parallels to Best Fronds???? 👀)

-An episode where Anne tries to find a way to control/channel her powers and at the end a huge attack or something big happens and the Plantars are in danger so she activates them instinctively and figures out how activate them at will

-The Plantars being confused about the names of places (Sprig: ”The Big Apple? But there’s no Big Apple?? And you thought Wartwood was a weird name!”)

-Frobo coming back bc OFC HE IS but i still feel like something bad will happen to him like i feel like there’s some kinda catch but,,,,idk man,,,,,let the big metal baby man be happy and okay -polly saving the day with her legs!!! like,,,,who knows what she can do now,,,,,,,with all this,,,,,,,,,,power,,, -for the christmas ep: maybe Anne missing her friends and wishing they were there? i feel like they probably spent every christmas together ;;; and maybe! sprig and the fam is trying to take her mind off of it! -anne using up her powers and the frog fam + her parents (maybe, depends on when they find out) having to remind her that she’s just a kid and she needs to rest too!!!! set boundaries!!!!!  -and on that topic, i feel like anne would blame herself for a lot of what happened too and she keeps pushing herself to save everyone because she couldn’t save Marcy and Sasha but a core theme of the season is to accept that it wasn’t your fault and responsibility (kinda contrasting earlier lessons in s1 and 2 where it was the opposite) and her frog fam + parents (??) will have to help her learn this lesson -IDK THIS IS A LOOSE IDEA but what if!!! Anne has healing powers!!! It’d match her nature aesthetic and also help with the final battle?? Maybe its easier to heal herself than others????? -anne is more protective of sprig + frog fam (??) bc of true colors?? if they do this i will cry

Wishlist:

-more flashbacks of the trio!!! pls!!!! 

-flashback of Anne meeting Marcy for the first time?? PLEASE???

-BABY PICTURES OF ANNE!!!! PLS!!!

-Anne going through the five stages of grief (i think if this were to happen, it’d be very subtle but it’d be good to teach to people that it’s okay and that people will mourn in different ways and for different amounts of time!)

-I do love the Sasha’s hair au where she cuts it off Mulan style bc HAIR SYMBOLISM!!! but i still really like the hair she has right now ;;  I’d be happy either way though!

-reoccurring gags with the Plantar family meeting real frogs,,,there’s so much potential,,,,,

-LIKE WHAT IF SPRIG ADOPTED A FROG DJFGHSJD (this would be such a weird Goofy and Pluto situation djfgsdjhfgsdj)

-Marcy being freed not too late into the season!! I miss her and I don’t want to see her having a lot less screentime ;;;; (this is rough bc of pacing and stuff like that, I feel like i’d be happy if she was in 7 eps, in person)

-Anne using humor to cope with her TRAUMA (F)

-Anne getting THERAPY BC SHE NEEDS IT

-Anne missing eating bugs in her food (IT’D BE SUCH A FUNNY REOCCURING GAG)

-Flashbacks or family pictures or SOMETHING, ANYTHING regarding Sprig and Polly’s parents!

-The Plantar’s having a way to be able to see Anne regularly after they head home!! BC OTHERWISE I WON’T BE OKAY

-the iconic picture of the trio coming back up again! its been a HOT MINUTE since we’ve seen it and i’d LOVE to see it used in a SUPER emotionally charged scene like!!! what if!!! it was able to bring back Marcy from her possessed form!!!!! 

-flashback scenes in the finale detailing all of anne + marcy + sasha’s adventures showing how much this whole ordeal has changed them and those around them!!! i will cry!!!!

-Valeriana coming back to help anne and the trio!!!! heck, a ton of the people who anne helped throughout the show coming back to help her!!!!! I WILL SOB!!!!!!

-MORE OF HOP POP CALLING ANNE HIS GRANDDAUGHTER/FAMILY I WILL LIE ON THE FLOOR AND SOB -anne’s mom mothering sprig and polly BC THEY NEVER HAD THAT AND THEY DESERVE IT, I WILL ABSOLUTELY BREAK  D O W N -MORE YOUNG ANNE AND HER PARENTS FLASHBACKS/MENTIONS/PICTURES!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -NEW OUTFITS FOR ANNE/THE TRIO??? i just want the good fanart please -also, sprig coping with his homesickness with Anne and them comforting each other bc they now both know how each other feel ;;;; (also sprig’s probably worried about wartwood and everyone in amphibia bc of Andriass so hah a  that’s great) -BABY DOMINO???????? FLASHBACK TO ANNE FINDING DOMINO??????????? FLASHBACK ABOUT DOMINO MISSING ANNE EPISODE?????????????? those will all kill me instantly, without fail -i would LOVE to have at least a moment where Anne’s mom talks about how it was like before Anne came back, i mean!!! it’s been almost 6 months!!!!! poor thing!!! -IVY AND SASHA BECOMING BESTIES!!!!! IT’D COMPLETE THE FROG TRIO BESTIE TEAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! -the calamity trio patching up each others’ wounds, idk if this could happen but i just WANT IT (fan content is okay too 👀) -more owl house references, thank you

[harryspet]

good girl. bad habits. [2] peter parker

[Warnings] alpha!peter parker x omega!reader, omegaverse, boarding school au, dystopian au, soultmate au, suppressant pills, misogyny, hella angst, heat, intense sexual content (wear a condom kiddos)

A/N: this took way toooo long but overall im happy with how it turned out!

part one

In which Alpha Peter is persistent and you tried to hold onto your power. 

word count: 4.5k

taglist:  @peterztinglez @lovelynerdytraveler @buckybarney @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @yanderepeterparker @ttqueen05 @belleknows @write-from-the-heart @sad-ed-noise @quaksonhehe  @halparkebitchb @bangtaninyourareaxox @blondesforlife​

Wanda was lucky it was Sunday. It was easier to skip Sunday service than regular classes and her severe hangover told you that she wasn’t getting out of bed anytime soon. You walked over to her twin bed and, although you had your own right across from her, you snuggled into her bed. 

“Ugh,” Wanda groaned. 

“That better not be for me,” You frowned.

“It is for you,” As you laid down, she wrapped her arm around you, resting her head on your shoulder, “You’re the one who gave me the booze.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t handle your liquor,” A small smile tugged at your lips until Wanda’s next words met your ears. 

“Goddess, you smell like Alpha.”

“And what do you think you smell like? Is your virtue even still intact?”

“A lady never tells,” Wanda giggled but you scoffed, “I can’t believe that you of all people landed yourself an Alpha. A rich and powerful one too.”

You wish you could react like Wanda. You wished that you could switch a flip and you could see the world through rose-colored glasses, “I wouldn’t say I landed him. He was just acting like a territorial jerk like the rest of them. Who knows, maybe he has a thing for lots of girls. Being a council member's nephew … I’m sure he’s popular.”

“I don’t think so,” You could tell she was smiling by the way she was talking, “Peter didn’t dance with any other girl at the Ball. You’re like Cinderella and he’s your prince charming. Just promise you won’t forget me when you’re royalty.”

“I hope you know I’d rather swallow a knife than be associated with that family.”

Wanda didn’t listen to you as she continued, “Maybe it is true that opposites attract.”

+

Word spread fast around the Stark School and every question someone asked you was about Peter and whether or not you were mates. You denied any connection that you had with him and you made sure to have a scowl on your face when you did. This whole situation was hurting your reputation and making you appear weak. Before the ball, girls didn’t dare approach you out of fear that you’d poison their precious minds.

You preferred when people were scared of you. 

To make matters worst, you woke up thinking about you-know-who and almost all your thoughts were starting to revolve around him. That was enough to drive you insane. 

You decided that for the next few weeks you’d be on your worst behavior. You managed to break your previous record for your number of infractions within a single week. Every teacher that tried to scold you for misbehaving, you snapped back at. Your skirt got shorter and your makeup became even more extravagant. 

Today, you finally managed to get back at the girl who always kicked your shins when you played soccer in physical education. Once she shoved past you, you reached back to grab a fistful of her hair. She cried out as she fell back and you heard the screaming of a whistle though you ignored it. 

It was like all the frustration of your life had reached its boiling point. You hated everything about how your life had turned out. You knew the world wasn’t fair but now it just felt cruel. 

Wanda had to pull you off of her to keep you from punching her, “Y/L/N, off the field now!” You heard your teacher say. Wanda was saying something, trying to calm you down, but you shrugged her off. You were already walking away from the field and towards the bleachers. 

You figured you’d walk all the way back to dorms to let yourself blow off steam but you found a familiar face waiting behind the bleachers. 

Your face fell and you thought your knees might give in. Clad in his uniform, his red tie, and a blazer that held the Asgard symbol completed the look. He looked put together unlike you. Your knees were bruised, your hair a mess, and your gym clothes were now covered in grass stains.

“What … What are you doing here?” You asked the young Alpha and, as he looked you over, he almost seemed concerned.

He stepped closer, his eyes burning holes into your skin, “I came to watch you play but … I don't think you’re making the team anytime soon.”

“Don’t you have your own life to worry about? I don’t know, maybe school? Or does your uncle have too much influence for you to have to worry about pesky things like grades?” Peter opened his mouth to retort but you interrupted him. His lips pressed into a thin line of frustration as he let you finish, “You know what, Alpha-boy? I really can’t do this right now.”

You gritted your teeth as you turned to walk away, only for a strong hand to wrap around your wrist. You turned to last out but, like a candle blown out by the wind, you felt your anger melt away. The calm settled on the features of your face and then it traveled through the rest of your body. 

You looked down at his hand touching your skin, realizing that he was the source, “I meant what I said last time,” He spoke calmly but you could hear the seriousness in his tone, “You’re mine, Y/N.”

“How did you do that?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed. Your voice was small once again and it made you wonder how long you had been raising your voice. 

“Do what?” Peter smirked and, as much as you wanted to scowl, you couldn’t, “Isn’t this better? Having a moment where you’re not so angry at the world? If you’d just give me a chance, I could help you.”

“And what’s in it for you?” You already knew the answer. There was a part of him deep inside that craved the intimacy you could give him. He wanted someone to care for and to protect but he also wanted territory that he could claim and heirs to carry his name. As Peter searched your face, he could tell you already knew his answer, “I’m never going to want to be someone’s property, no matter what magic you try to work on me.”

“It’s not magic,” Peter insisted, “It’s a mate bond. I think … I think our souls are somehow connected.”

You couldn’t deny that you thought it was true. You could resist him but not the connection you were feeling, “Then we’ll break it-” Your mouth shut as if your body was mad at you for even letting those words escape your lips. 

His eyes turned black, “Give me time with you. I’ll convince you otherwise.”

You finally pulled your arm away from him as a group of girls walked past, heading back towards the school. Some stared in awe and others whispered to each other, “I can’t believe this,” You whispered, letting the anger seep back in, “There will be no us time because you’re not even supposed to be here.”

“Winter Break,” He spoke simply, not paying the girls any mind, “You’ll come stay with my family. My Aunt May wants to meet you and Pepper thought it would be inappropriate to ask you herself …”

You blinked, wondering why the hell he wanted you, of all people, to meet his family, “The answer would’ve been no … I have to shower before Calculus.”

You turned away, your arms crossed but he called for you as you walked away again, “Where will you go then?”

“I don’t know, I’ll have Christmas with the nuns and the groundskeepers or something.”

You looked back to see he wasn’t chasing you. He only took a deep breath and stuffed his hands into his back pockets, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

+

Peter was used to quiet dinners with his Aunt and Uncle. Usually, when he talked, Tony would respond with something snappy and condescending. Peter had learned over the years not to shake things up but that only led to anger and frustration being built up within. Peter was an Alpha but Tony was an Alpha of Alphas. 

“You’ve been skipping school,” Tony didn’t meet Peter’s eyes as he brought a piece of steak to his mouth. Peter tried not to freeze or show any hint of guilt on his face. 

Peter had come to visit you multiple times after the situation on the soccer field. As he expected, you rejected him with every chance you got but that didn’t stop him from trying to get to know you. His friends teased him for falling head over heels for someone he barely knew. Alphas were supposed to be above that and let the Omegas crawl to them but Peter enjoyed chasing you. 

“Who told you that?” Peter asked casually. 

“You don’t think I have eyes everywhere, genius?” Peter's lips pressed into a thin line as he gripped his fork tightly, poking at his food. 

“Pepper finally confessed. She’s been going behind my back in order to help you,” He felt cornered and the fact that Pepper wasn’t here to defend him only made him more uneasy, “All this for a rebel sympathizer?”

Peter often disagreed with the man who sat upon his golden throne. Within the walls of his million-dollar home, Peter doubted there was a way Stark could possibly even understand the grievances of the people below him. 

“She’s … she’s my mate,” Tony paused and shot Peter a hard glance. 

“I’m sorry, she’s what?”

“I have a feeling, sir.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “A mate? My nephew has a mate …” Tony spoke to himself, “If I want you to be anything like me, Peter, then I should allow you your independence. However, I won’t have her embarrassing this family, so whatever you have to do to correct her behavior, you’ll do it.”

Peter instantly nodded, “I will, I promise.” Peter felt a glimmer of happiness at his Uncle’s acceptance.

“Who knows, maybe converting her will be good for my image. Our image, Peter.” It didn’t surprise Peter in the slightest that Tony’s mind was now working to see how it would benefit him. 

The quiet dinner continued until Pepper arrived with news that would surely steal any light Peter felt in his own heart. 

You had finally escaped the Stark School.

+

The city was cold but the people were colder. The harsh winter and the busy, holiday season left people tired and caused their words to be terse. It was why you preferred the hustling and bustling city of New York. The rankings existed but it seemed everyone was rude to one another. It was nice to see. 

Besides that, in a city of millions of people, you were invincible. With the suppressants you were now on, no one could outwardly tell your ranking and, as long as you kept your head down, no officers asked for your identification. 

The first couple of weeks were stressful but everything seemed to fall in place. You moved your way in and out of shelters, picking up jobs that paid under the table in order to earn money in order to buy more suppressants. 

Omegas were almost as rare as true Alphas. Most people were middle ranking which meant the council controlled them but they were at least treated like human beings. If anyone found out, the council was the least of your worries. 

That’s why when you thought you were having an allergic reaction to them, you stormed down the alleyway where you usually met your dealer, fire in your eyes, “You gave me a botched pills,” You pressed the bag of pills into Loki’s chest. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He pushed you back with ease, causing you to stumble backwards as he casually stuck his hands back into the pockets of his black jacket. He looked around, trying to seem inconspicuous. 

It was freezing outside but your body was overheating and your anger was boiling over, “Look at me,” You spoke with gritted teeth, “Do I look okay to you?”

“No, you should probably see a Doctor, darling,” His lips turned up into a smirk, “If you don’t mind, I have other matters to attend to.”

As he stepped around your body, you felt a weight on your shoulders. You tried to take a deep breath as you realized how much you were panicking, “Please,” You called after him, grabbing a hold of his arm, “I just need pills. Real pills. I’ll give you the rest of the money that I have.”

Loki looked over his shoulder and down at you, “Council is cracking down on suppressant sellers. They raided a ship carrying them a few nights ago so I wouldn’t expect anymore for a while.”

The man who called himself Loki searched your face, noting the look of desperation in your eyes, “What am I supposed to do then, huh?”

If he cared for your situation in any way, he didn’t show it.

Your hands balled into fist as he walked away but, in doing that, you realized how much your muscles were aching, “Don’t, please,” You walked after him, wincing in pain with every step. He didn’t seem to slow down for you as you tried to catch up to him on the sidewalk. Pain shot through your body and fire surged through your veins. 

As your vision began to blur, you lost him in the crowd of people. Snow fell around you but that didn’t ease any of the burning pain. You tried to push yourself further, somehow find shelter, but with each step you felt even more helpless. When your knees finally gave in and you bit down on your own lip so hard that you tasted blood, no one paid you any mind. To them you were a simple bump in the road. 

+

The place you woke up was the opposite of the buzzing city. The quietness was serene and the cool white light shining down on you was calming. You turned your aching head, wondering what new mess you had gotten yourself into. You found yourself staring out a window, the city outside but it was clear that you were on one of the highest floors of the hospital. 

As someone cleared their throat, your head snapped in the other direction, as you lifted yourself up in the hospital bed. With wide eyes, you stared back at Tony Stark who was comfortably sitting at the chair beside your bed. As you moved, you realized that there was metal keeping you chained to the bed. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Your head began to pound again, most likely because of how fast you had sat up. You knew you weren’t anyone’s favorite but you never thought your deviancy warranted a visit from one of the most powerful men in society … but then you remembered Peter, “... from what I’ve heard, you’re not known for being quiet.”

You shut your eyes tight as you tried to clear your racing thoughts, “Are you here to personally escort me to prison?”

“Sadly, no,” He said, folding his hands as he looked over you, “None of the council members know I’m here and no one knows you’re here either.”

“... so then you’re killing me yourself?”

Tony grinned, “No, sweetheart. Why do you think I had someone patch you up? That poison was making you malnourished and then your heat was draining you even more.”

You froze, “My what?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “I’m guessing this is your first one but I’m sure you’ve read up on it in your studies. They say meeting your soulmate can trigger it …” It looked like he was connecting the dots in his own mind, “There were a lot of things you didn’t consider, Y/N.”

“He’s not …” The words burned as you tried to let them out. 

“Or maybe you ran because you knew the bond was real. Your body, naturally, probably didn’t like the fact that you were rejecting him. Did you consider what it would do to him?”

Something pulled at your heartstrings as you finally thought about how Peter reacted when he found out you’d ran away, “... did something happen?”

Tony cocked his head to the side, “No damages big enough that I couldn’t pay for … am I sensing remorse?”

“I’m not sure how you could when it’s something you’ve never felt,” Tears stung your eyes, the reality of your world settling in, but you still held your head high, “If you’re here to preach, I don’t want to listen. And you’re not getting any gratitude from me.”

He could end your life with the snap of his finger yet that didn’t stop the venom on your tongue. 

With a hard glare, he stood from his seat and took a step towards the bed, “I already agreed with Peter that he will be the one to take care of your … attitude. I truly hope that the next time we see each other you’ll be worthy enough for my nephew. You’re a pretty thing, this anger doesn’t suit you ....may the Goddess with you.”

+

The black car traveled down the gravel road surrounded by evergreen trees. Snow fell lightly and dropped onto the window glass and you watched it melt away as you neared your destination. 

You were expecting doom and gloom as you pulled into the driveway. You didn’t expect the cabin to actually look like a home where happy people could live. Calling it a log cabin wouldn’t be fair to the money that probably went into building the luxury home. You could practically smell the expensiveness as you exited the car, not bothering to let the driver open the door for you. 

You spun in a circle, your boots crushing the ice beneath your feet, as you took in the sight. You saw rolling hills of snow, tall mountains, and a blue-purple sunset that painted the sky. 

When you saw him this time it was different. So much had happened since that night at the Halloween Ball and you didn’t expect him forgive you for being so cold to you but-

He called for you and, as you turned to face him, arms were tightly wrapped around you, “You could’ve died,” Were the first words that left his mouth. You didn’t embrace him back, you weren’t sure how, but your body instantly relaxed against him. It was the same feeling you got at the soccer field. 

You were still speechless when he finally pulled away. His hands were still grabbing your arms as he looked you over for wounds. You were sure that your only flaw was the bags around your eyes from the lack of sleep you’d had over the last few days.

“Do you understand that? Someone could’ve taken you or you could’ve killed yourself.”

“I know-” He smashed his lips against yours, taking the words from your mouth. You pressed your hands against his chest but you didn’t push him away. The kiss was long and deep and, for a moment, the earth stopped spinning on its axis, “I don’t know how to do this, Peter.”

Your foreheads pressed together and his heavy breath fanning against your skin, the two of you tried to catch your breath, “Y/N, it’s okay,” Your name on his tongue was heaven, “This is real and I know you’re scared but it’s okay to accept this. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Do you promise?” You asked, weaker than you’ve ever been. As much as you wanted to blame it on the raging hormones of your heat, you knew what you wanted deep down. 

“Yes,” Peter breathed, “And I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you.”

Peter led you into the warm home, helping you out of your coat, and keeping his hand on the small of your back. Your meeting with Pepper and May was brief. They sat in the kitchen sipping their hot cocos and they only gave you kind glances as Peter informed them that he’d take you up to your room. He could sense that you didn’t want an audience to your pain. 

There were photos on every wall and sentimental ornaments. You had a feeling that by the end of winter break you’d know the story of each item.

“This is where you grew up?” You asked, your eyes wandering your new room. It was more spacious then any place you’d ever lived and the heat from the fireplace only added to the coziness the room provided. 

“We spend every winter here. My Uncle Ben built this place,” Peter spoke succinctly.

“It’s straight out of one of those lifestyle magazines,” You felt Peter’s eyes on you as you slowly walked around the room, “... how did he die?”

“Someone shot him,” His gaze seemed to darken at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” You meant your words but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. 

“Don’t be,” He shrugged, “I mean, it was a long time ago … I guess I’ll leave you to settle in.”

You sensed he was trying to avoid a touchy conversation and you were more than willing to let him. Just being in his presence was calming but extremely overwhelming. The smallest things he did would cause your thoughts to race and, lately, those thoughts hadn’t been pure. Your mind had been replaying that kiss a million times in your head in the past twenty minutes. 

As his hand gripped the door handle, a sudden wave of heat traveled beneath your skin, “Ah,” You rested your hands against the bed as you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. It was the same overwhelming fire that you felt that day with Loki. 

“Y/N,” You looked up, realizing that he hadn’t left. He walked towards you hesitantly, “.. you should take off those clothes.”

Your eyes widened, “What? No. I’m fine-” You winced as another wave passed through you, “I’m fine!”

“You’re overheating!” Peter exclaimed and it seemed it was taking everything within him not to do it himself. 

“Peter, I’m fine,” You spoke through gritted teeth, “I can handle it on my own.”

“No, you can’t,” Peter stated nervously, “Sit down on the bed. Let me help you.”

“No,” You said again as you panicked, “I don’t need your stupid Alpha hormones messing up mine. You’re making it worse!”

“I said sit down,” He didn’t raise his voice but there was something different in his tone. Powerful. Your body moved like it never did before. Your body, against your will, sat down on the bed obediently. 

You were left speechless for a moment and Peter seemed to stare at your abnormal behavior but not for long. He kneeled down and began to pull off your shoes and socks, “Peter-” You clutched your side. 

He tossed the clothing to the side before standing. He leaned over you, pulling off your sweater and undershirt. When he finally made it to your belt, your eyes connected, “Don’t say no to me, Omega. I don’t like it, ” Again, your body moved before your mind and you nodded. 

Stupid Alpha hormones.

Without the clothes, you instantly felt better but there was still burning in your veins, “Lay down,” Peter’s hand connected with your shoulder and you felt a coolness soothe the area as he pushed you down. Your back pressed against the soft mattress as you felt your jeans being undone, “There you go.”

“It hurts, Peter,” As the words left your mouth, you felt a kiss against your stomach. Your senses were completely out of whack and the simple touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. He kissed down your stomach to where he was pulling down your jeans. He pulled them down the length of your legs before deciding to rid himself his own clothes. You sat up on your elbows as you watched him reveal himself. 

His body was perfectly crafted, the sight of him causing your core to ache for him. You moved up on your elbows as he stalked closer once again, “Bare your throat to me,” He demanded, lust in his eyes. Your heart began to race and you slowly moved further and further back on the bed as he followed you, “You want me to quell that fire inside, don’t you? I can take that pain away …”

It wasn't a command. He wanted you to go against every standard you’d set for yourself and  willingly show him the ultimate sign of submission. He grabbed your hands, moving them so they were pinned above your head, as he settled between your legs. You felt his growing member pressed against your crotch, teasing you. 

“Please don’t,” You begged and you watched his lips tug into a small smile. He leaned down closer, holding your smaller hand in his tightly, and you couldn’t run from that feeling anymore, “Peter, I can’t-”

“But you want to, Omega. You want to be tamed. You want me to be by my side, protected and loved for the rest of your days,” Peter grunted, pressing himself further into you. All you wanted was his lips on you again, “Now be a good girl for me.”

Your eyes shut tight as you turned your head, exposing your neck to the Alpha that called you his soulmate. He took the sign of submission as a green light to ravish your body. He pressed his lips against the skin of your neck, leaving rough bites along your skin, and you thought you might go deaf from how loud you were screaming in pleasure. 

Peter kissed every inch of your body and you found yourself desperately trying to taste him as well. You realized that a switch had flipped inside of you a long time ago and you weren’t sure how you managed to resist it for long. Like a predator who finally captured his prey, Peter devoured you. 

Your first times were nothing like the movie. You didn’t feel any sort of pain and your bodies were so synced that you felt anything but awkward. You felt like you knew him completely in this life and your past lives before, 

“Please, please, please.”

He sunk deep inside of you, rocking the furniture and destroying the room, “You take me so good,” You nodded eagerly, the sound of his wanting voice driving you insane, “Fuck, get on top of me.” He smacked your bottom and your lips tugged into a tired smile. 

After taking you in missionary, you switched positions, and you rode him until your second climax. Your arms wrapped around each other as you moved your hips. When he finally came he was deep inside you, his moans were enough to send you over the edge for the third time, “Peter, I’m gonna--again!” Your arms wrapped around his neck, you kissed passionately as he filled you with his warmth. 

“You were fucking made for me,” Peter breathed against your lips, “Thank the Goddess.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks but Peter brushed them away with his thumb. You hadn’t realized the love you’d been lacking until now. You didn’t know a stranger's love could be so unconditional but it seemed he wasn’t a stranger at all. Whatever consequences came from this, you thanked the Goddess that you could feel again. 

+

i might write a part three to this but i left it on a happy ending in case it takes me awhile to get to it!

[ilikekidsshows]

Idk how to phrase this properly, but can you talk about how despite Ladybug steps on Chat's triggers sometimes, she's still a good friend to him and an exception and a symbol of hope to him that not everyone is like Gabriel at all? (Like the differences in her and Gabriel's attitudes towards him in episodes like Glaciator and the NY special?)

Yeah, the New York Special and 'Glaciator' are both cases where Marinette kinda screwed up. However, using these cases to say Marinette is like Gabriel is just not on. Marinette and Gabriel have parallels, but their treatment of Adrien is not one of them. In fact, I'd say it's one of the most important points of contrast, aka difference.

When it comes to the New York Special, I believe it isn't fair to judge an entire relationship based on what the characters do in situations where they're under extreme duress and the narrative purpose is to create drama. On a regular day, Marinette never would have stood in silence when someone was falling to pieces right next to her. The only reason she was suddenly mute in the middle of the sewer scene in the New York Special was so that the writers could include a really melodramatic breakup-get-back-together plotline. It happens in so many series finales and really makes me think the NY Special's script was originally written for the movie that's coming out. It has a broody atmosphere, it has collateral damage, there's a breach of trust and our heroes break up, Marinette falls off her bike and sobs while lying on the ground in the rain and Hawk Moth launches a nuclear strike. The New York Special is way more dramatic than the show, it's melodramatic even. The level of melodrama makes the NY Special easy to generate salt on, but that doesn't mean it's accurate salt on the show itself, since the show proper is so tonally different. No one's judging anime series based off the OVAs they put out.

But, if you're still interested, I did do a full conflict analysis on the New York Special here, where I went over how Adrien's tendency of projecting his relationship with his father into his relationship with Ladybug got some solid countering evidence to help him overcome that in the special (if the special is canon to the show). I've also discussed my interpretation of what's going on in 'Glaciator' here and here. However, I'll say here that Ladybug accidentally treating Cat Noir like Gabriel does Adrien in 'Glaciator' is not the reading the episode is going for. Marinette forgot Cat Noir existed due to some personal issues she has while Gabriel blatantly doesn't care what he does to Adrien and uses his disregard to manipulate Adrien into staying home just in case Gabriel might grace him with his presence. The perceived similarity exists in Adrien's mind because 'Glaciator' focuses on his trauma from his abuse at home.

The primary difference between Marinette and Gabriel is that Marinette genuinely is terrible at managing her time and responsibilities and tends to forget a lot of Ladybug-related stuff in the first two seasons, while Gabriel is knowingly and purposely neglecting his son in order to keep him hanging on to his every word. There's a huge difference between someone who cares being bad at showing it and someone who cares knowingly manipulating you. The difference is that, if Marinette knew she was actually inflicting Cat Noir with the same pain his father does, she would regret it and try to make up for it. Gabriel knows what he's doing when he does it and does it repeatedly even when he knows what it does to Adrien. He's an empath. It's deliberate. Meanwhile, Marinette is clueless. The two situations are in no way equal.

However, Ladybug does do genuine good to Adrien's emotional state. She isn't just the person who unknowingly hurts him. A big issue with people unleashing any salt on any character is that they tend to ignore the entire narrative and focus on only some moments that they then give their own interpretations to that take a lot of liberties. Simply put, a major underlying theme in Miraculous is self-actualization, and Ladybug is one of the primary people in Adrien's life, in addition to Nino and Plagg, who not only let him be himself, but actively encourage it. Let's face it, Adrien is a lot when he's Cat Noir. He exaggerates himself, he always speaks his mind, he refuses to be contained. And Ladybug accepts it. And not only accepts, but loves it.

What does Gabriel do when Adrien expresses any part of himself that he doesn't approve of? He isolates him, sends him to his room, and forbids him from going outside. Even the slightest bit of unacceptable behavior or the smallest of mistakes gets punished severely, with no room for negotiation or compromise. Because Gabriel doesn't want to understand Adrien's point of view, he shuts down any conversation Adrien wants to have. Gabriel also constantly uses isolation as a punishment. He denies Adrien his company and the company of his friends constantly, even when Adrien has done nothing to “deserve” it (he could never deserve it, I’m merely referring to Gabriel having something to use as justification).

Ladybug is a different story. She can't know Adrien. Their secret identities depend on it. So, there's a huge blockade stopping her from really understanding her partner. But she wants to and tries to. Anything Cat Noir wants to tell her, Ladybug listens to. She's so willing to listen to him, even when he says things she doesn't want to her, like when he tells her they have to protect Chloé in 'Evillustrator'. This is season one Marinette at her most unreasonable, abandoning her duty in a huff. She delegated the duty of protecting Chloé to Cat Noir alone, but she didn't say he was wrong, even when he said something she really didn't want to hear, that Chloé was in danger and it was their job to keep her safe. Gabriel never listens when he's angry, something we see especially in 'Félix', where he goes on an angry tirade. But, even when she's steaming mad, Ladybug does acknowledge Cat Noir is right, even if grudgingly (cause it's about Chloé).

Another thing to note is that Marinette doesn't take it onto herself to punish Cat Noir for perceived misbehavior. At worst she might snap at him, but she never dangles the right to be in her presence as only being allowed if Cat Noir stays on his best behavior like Gabriel does. Marinette knows she could do this. By season two she's fully aware that Cat Noir is in love with her and is fully dedicated to her. But she doesn't use that because she's a better person than Gabriel, and because she enjoys his company too. She doesn’t walk out on him for a bad joke, or flirting at the wrong time. There isn’t a single moment in the series where Marinette tells Cat Noir to leave the way Gabriel does. She does on occasion run away from conversations, but never in a way that would signal to Cat Noir it’s his fault, like in ‘Oblivio’ or ‘Frozer’. Even with all the difficulties Marinette has with communicating, especially with Adrien and Cat Noir, she never shuts Cat Noir out, unlike Gabriel, who seems to do nothing but shut him out.

[insufferablelust]

Naughty list. (ThrilledAu!Mgg x Reader)

Warnings : Slight smut, Spanking, D/s themed ofc, The use of ‘sir’ & ‘daddy’, mention of edging, mention of overstimulation for future reference, sadist!mgg, condescending!dom, Marking, Its.. um Filthy as many of you already know. Please read at your own discretion.

Hello this is the christmas one shot i’ve promised, its 3 am rn and im so sorry i just done finishing this because things had been so chaotic. But i hope y’all enjoy and please wait up patiently for my next fics which will come in the next several days as promised.

PLEASE NOTE : This blurb sets inside my Thrilled Au, after the Bratty Rendezvous chapter which i have yet to upload, though i will upload it very soon. So basically this fic is the filler chapter and a teaser for the two upcoming chapters of thrilled! so i hope that makes sense and i hope y’all enjoy it. Happy holidays and Merry christmas! Take care, x D

MASTERLIST HERE.

He felt her before he even opens his eyes, a small smile threaten to quirk at the side of her lips in response to the feeling of small kisses all along his face down to his neck— the oh so warm familiar kisses by the love of his life.

“Matthew wake up.” Y/N whispered, giggling to herself as she felt him grunt below her at the feeling of her sinful lips nips and bites onto his skin, “It’s christmas morning, come on daddy.” She whispered once more, but this time doing it with grinding down where her bum was sat prettily atop of his crotch, just enough to make him wrap his hand around her neck.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” His grip tighten a bit just then, as her eyes closed and a smile etched beautifully onto her lips. Matthew scoffed at her reaction before sitting up on the bed, bringing her up with him so he could lean against the headboard.

“J-just waking you..” Was all that she could manage, with shallow breaths and innocently batting her lashes up at him. “Oh, princess..” He murmured as he finally took in the sight of her.

She’s perched up beautifully on her lap, with her thigh high christmas themed socks, his sweater and a collar— a special one he had gifted her a few days prior, with the color red and his named engraved on the inside lining where nobody could see but she certainly could feel. On the outside, it might look like a normal choker necklace but they both know very well that that’s not the case. Its a symbol of him, latched onto her every second of the day— its their dynamic, its how they work.

“You look like a dream, little one..” He gasped, as she whines on his lap, a perfect little noise reserved only for him, making his hard on pressed oh so good against her bottom. “Dressed up for y-you!” Y/N exclaimed happily and slightly out of breath by the way Matthew’s grip just tightens and tightens— just like he was trying to squeeze the cuteness out of her.

God, you’re his, and his his his only.

“I know baby, so so pretty for me, being so so good.” He gave her cheek a pretty light slap, just to make her gasp and leave her sweet little mouth open slightly— all messy and beautiful. “Thank you daddy, just for you.” She smiled then, awaiting for his instruction just like how he likes it— or more importantly, just like how she craves it.

Matthew cocks his head to the side a little as he contemplates on what he’s going to do with her, it’s always like this with them— just wanting to do so many things, explore everything, explore each other’s limits, especially hers. Always hers, he thinks, whatever makes her happy.

So with a simple instruction he lessen the grip on her neck before pressing a small kiss on her forehead, “Go to our room now, and be on your position, daddy has to make some calls for our party this evening but you better be on your position by the time i get there or else.” He taps her cheeks twice, eyes pierced onto hers— as she nods a little, “yes daddy.”

“Go on.” She smiled before pressing a gentle peck to his lips, getting up and padded her tiny feet towards the door, “Oh and princess?”

“Yes daddy?”

“anything off but the socks and your collar.”

—

He’s doing this on purpose, your mean mean daddy is doing this on purpose— making you wait on your knees by the bench inside your dungeon, just waiting and waiting until you feel your knees beginning to fall asleep on you. But you tried your best to be presentable, just how daddy likes it.

Your body jumps a little when the sound of his footsteps rang through the room, sound of the door closing has your feet tingling and your cunt wet, oh he could definitely see the glisten gleam from it for sure.

“I thought you’d be well acquainted with my rules by now, pup.” He let out a disapproving sigh, which made your cheeks warmer and you instantly straighten your back, part your thigh a little and gulps— trying to remember what you did wrong this time.

“I—“

“Ah ah, you know better than to speak without my permission in this room do you?” He scoffed, walking around the room just to tantalize you, sending shiver up your spine. “you were good this morning, so good that daddy had half the mind to make you cum but now i’m not so sure.” He adds, which earn a gasp from you, Oh how you wanted to cum, you want to cum so so bad, the last time you did was a week ago when you were still in Paris— but right after your little bratty rendezvous there was no way in hell, he’d let you cum, oh no no, kitten doesn’t deserve to cum until master says so.

You bit your lip in agony, trying to block the tears that were about to slip from your pretty eyes down your heated cheeks, just trying to do anything he asks— anything. You let out a gasp as he tilt your chin up, which he cooed at and sigh softly, whilst his thumb brush side to side on top of your lips.

“Look at your tears, baby. Do you think it’ll work? hm? you think because daddy’s little elf put on a show this morning, that daddy is going to let this slide?” He pouts condescendingly, watching as the tears finally dripped down your cheeks, oh he wanted to photograph this so bad, his little fairy.

“Go on, answer daddy.” He pats your cheek with his thumb as you tried to find the courage to speak, “I-I’m sorry d-daddy.. i.. please..” Matthew sighed softly, seeing the genuine regret behind your eyes has him reprimanding your punishment, daddy was a tamer, but he was and will always be fair— forgetfulness is a human mistake, besides it’s christmas, and he figured he needed to give you something from all the torture you’ve endured since Paris.

“Up, princess. Let daddy braid your hair.” He tugged her collar a little which earned a gasp from her, though it was a combination between the sensation on her neck and realization on what she did wrong, “Daddy i—“

“Shh, up.” He cuts you off before you could mutter an apology, or several apologies. You should’ve known better, if he told you to be on position, what he always meant is for you to be on your knees by the bench, with your hair untied specifically because he likes to braid you before play time, and today you’ve put your hair up, completely forgetting a clear important rule. Matthew helped you get on your shaky feet, as you trembled a little, whispering a small, “thank you daddy.” Before facing the bench, back toward him so he could process on your hair.

“Tell daddy why he’s punishing you tonight.” He hummed behind her, fingers expertly tangle and untangle through her hair, looping each side to the center as he formed a perfect braid from the top of her hair and making his way down. “Because i forgot daddy’s rule.” You muttered shakily, voice laced with regrets at yourself for disappointing daddy.

“Which rule is it, pup?” His voice seemed so close now, she could practically feel his warm breath against her skin that she zoned out for a moment before a tug on her hair brought her back, “I— i didn’t untie my hair, sir.”

“Why is it important?”

“Because daddy needs to braid my hair, and.. and it teaches me to.. remembers daddy’s rules.” You finished with a sigh, before feeling a soft kiss placed on top of your shoulder blades, “10 with my hands. Go and bend over the bench, bunny.”

—

Y/N braced herself as she felt the stinging, heated sensation smacked across her bottom, making her grip tighten onto the railing bench and her body shakes a little. “F-Five, thank y-you daddy.”

“Color?” Matthew pressed his palm against her stinging skin as he try to soothe the aching pain a bit, it’s true that they both love this— loves the thrill, the pain, and the overall pleasure that comes from this. However, Matthew would never enjoy hurting his bunny without any context, or out of proportion, it might look like he has all the control but they both knows well that she has all the control, if she wants to stop, she knows what she needed to say.

“G-Green sir please.” Oh how he loves the way her voice croaked underneath him, the way she arched her back toward him— as if asking for more, ready for more just as she deserve, as she behaved. So he delivered then, 3 slaps in a row as she cries out between each milliseconds, and sobs out the thank you’s and pleas.

“just two more now, y’think you can take it, petal?” Matthews hand crept up to where your collar snuggly wrapped around your neck, thumbing the soft leather as he makes sure you’re still okay which you confirmed by a ‘yes daddy, please continue’

The last two slaps were unexpected, catching her off guard as it landed way way below where her cunt drips dewy sweet honey, and where her by now— swollen little pearl sits, making her jumps and scream out in a blissed pleasure. “Fuck! oh! nine ten! daddy thank you!”

“Shh shh, come here, good girl.” Matthew gently helped her stand before picking her up bridal style and sit down onto the bed which was installed on their room, his lips were pressed tightly onto her forehead as he soothes her aching skin and mumble calming words. “It’s okay, ‘s all over, such a good girl, little one.”

“Daddy...”

“Yes angel?”

“Do i deserve to cum now?”

“Oh petal, you will be begging to stop cumming later, just you wait.”

—

EXCUSE MY GRAMMARS AND TYPOS, my laptop is not accessible right now so i have to use my phone to write and upload so please bear with me. Thank you, i love you and take care.

Don’t forget to support!❤️

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[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #68

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Bree (Tina In The Sky With Diamonds) 

“So, here’s the thing, Dottie,” Bree says, her arms firmly crossed over her chest.  “You’ve been living, quite pathetically, in the shadow of Tina Cohen-Chang for nearly a year now?  Do you want that to be your legacy? Do you really want to be remembered as that weird, bug-eyed girl who is subservient to someone who barely knows you’re alive? Do you really want to continue playing second, no like fourth or fifth fiddle to someone who undoubtedly should be in that position herself?  Or would you like to leave this school remembered as a legend?” 

Bree’s lips twist into a delighted grin as Dottie begins to squirm.  It’s almost too easy to manipulate the weak -- and Dottie has proven such an easy case.  Bree didn’t come to this school to take a backseat to those who are clearly unworthy of her, and she isn’t about to throw away opportunities that are so ripe for the picking.  She will rule at this school, and figuring out this shit show of Prom Queen is her first step of getting there.  

Dottie nervously plays with the hem of her dress, completely steamrolled.  “Tina’s not so bad.  Sometimes she brings in homemade cookies for everyone.  I usually end up with the few burnt ones, but only because I don’t want to take away from anyone else’s joy.” 

“Okay, this has got to stop,” Bree holds her hand up.  How sad can this girl get?  “Tina Cohen-Chang does not get to be Prom Queen over a few charitable cookies.  The girl’s ego has grown too much, and since she decided Cheerios was not good enough for her anymore, she does not get to delight in a status symbol reserved for people who actually understand what being a good queen would entail.  We are going to take Tina down and we’re going to cripple her where it hurts… by stealing her boyfriend.” Bree throws her head back in a cackle.  This is going to be delicious.  

Dottie gives her a double take.  “I-I’m sorry ma’am - What? Tina doesn’t have a boyfriend.  I know - it’s the number one item on her long list of daily complaints.  I mean, she had one for a long time, but then he graduated and dumped her and I think is now dating some lovely dancer in Chicago and…” 

“Stop!” Bree snaps.  She shakes her head in disbelief.  “Are you seriously going to tell me that that glee club Prince Charming Blaine Anderson is not her boyfriend?  Are you seriously trying to tell me that the Prom King nominated, 50’s-era styled guy that she’s been glued to every second that I’ve know then, especially when they were both on the Cheerios and he was for some reason captain of the team when he did nothing but mope on the sidelines where the two of them clung sadly to each other, isn’t her boyfriend?  Never mind the fact that they’re always touching each other, always singing the most annoyingly sappiest of songs together, making everyone sick with their cutesy nicknames.  You really want me to believe they’re not a couple?” 

Dottie’s eyes grow wide with fear behind her glasses.  Bree is too annoyed to enjoy it.  

“Because my intel says that Blaine Anderson’s last relationship didn’t work because he cheated,” Bree continues, recalling her brilliant plan.  She wants nothing more to hurt Tina in the way girls like that crumble.  “And once a cheater, always a cheater.  I know because I am very good at cheating.  And Tina would not be able to handle losing another man.” 

Dottie is squirmy even more now.  “Well, Tina used to have a crush on him.  It’s why she founded and disbanded the Too Young to Be Bitter Club.  And I don’t deny that they are seemingly inseparable.  But he’s actually engaged.” 

“What?” Bree’s jaw drops.  

Dottie flails her hands about. “Oh, oh oh!” She fishes into her purse to pull out her phone, typing furiously.  “To the Prom Queen of two years ago.  You have to watch the video.” 

Bree snaps the phone out of Dottie’s hand.  “I am seriously going to snap Jordan’s neck again if I find she’s given me bad intel.” 

“Well, they were broken up for a couple of months,” Dottie says as she pushes play on the video for Bree.  “But they got back together.  Tina says it was the loveliest of ceremonies.  Unfortunately no one took video of that, so this is just from prom a couple of years ago.” 

Bree watches a shaky, phone video of a couple of guys dancing with each other.  One of them has a crown on his head.   “So, Blaine Anderson is actually gay.” 

Dottie freezes in her spot.  “I thought that was obvious.”  

It’s utterly disgusting to watch.  Everyone’s so happy and doe-eyed.  Disney cartoons aren’t as sappy as this. Everyone cheers and claps and Blaine Anderson dips his partner and… Bree lets out a screech as she throws Dottie’s phone back at her.  She is going to need a new plan.  

“I think it’s sweet,” Dottie coos as she looks down at her phone, watching as the video repeats itself.  “Like the happy ending of a rom-com.” 

“You think it’s sweet because you’re a schmuck,” Bree bites at her.  “And rom-coms are trash.  What we need is a horror show.”  An idea hits her.  Maybe her best one yet.  “Dottie… have you ever seen Carrie?” 

[aprilsrant]

Start Over | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) has anger issues and a bad reputation that follows. Oliver seems to be the only one who hasn’t been on the receiving end of her outbursts and there might be a hidden reason for it.

WORD COUNT: 2,3k.

WARNINGS: Marcus Flint being an idiot and a missoginy brat, it’s kind of angsty towards the end. Maybe a curse word or two. There is a fight and a duel too. (If I miss any, let me know!)

REQUEST: can’t find it, but yes, this was requested.

A/N: This took me so long and I’m so sorry, but for some reason I couldn’t get this finished. Hope you enjoy it! Like, reblog or leave comment if you like, feedback is always appreciated!!

Also, I made the reader have a holly wand because details are important sometimes.

English is not my first language, there could be mistakes!

Gif is not mine!!

MASTERLIST.

For whatever stupid, possibly misogynist, reason, Marcus Flint never allowed girls to tryout for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, not even when he, and everyone else present, knew of their talent and how much it would benefit them. Now more than ever, with that Harry Potter kid catching every single Snitch flying round him, Flint’s team needed new members. And members that actually knew how to play and not those who would pay their way in. 

Once again, (Y/N) was waiting in the stands for the Slytherin Captain and the whole group attempting to grab themselves a spot. Arriving before them gave her an “advantage” and that was not being completely disregarded the minute Flint saw her in the midst of the line up following him like some kind of lost puppys. 

With nothing else to do than just stand round the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, (Y/N) looked up and watched as a few Gryffindors threw the Quaffle towards one of the three hoops. She didn’t even know why people kept trying out to be a Chaser in Wood’s team when the current three were the best they had. And they were all women. Who would have thought that girls could play that well, right? 

(Y/N) didn’t know why she continued to insist when she was aware that Flint would never let her be on the team. Maybe because it was her last year, or because she had a tiny spark of hope inside of her that something, pretty much a miracle, would happen and the boy’d change his mind, finally acknowledging that (Y/N) was better than the two Slytherin beaters together. 

“What are you doing here, (Y/L/N)?,” the voice of the Slytherin Captain brought her back from the train of thoughts. Glancing towards the Pitch, she realised that it was empty, the only Gryffindor there was Oliver Wood, seating in the opposite set of stands with a notebook and a pencil in his hand. Upon seeing Flint and the trail of Slytherins behind him, he rolled his eyes and quickly left his spot, steps faltering after hearing Marcus’s irritated tone. “I told you, multiple times may I remind you, that I don’t want girls in my team, and especially not those who want to be beaters.”

This was something she saw coming, of course, and she’d tried to assume it for the last couple of days every time the image of being rejected, again, would pop into her head, replaying the times were she had actually been rejected as if her own mind was trying to torture her.

She had also seen the other part coming, and she had tried to stop it. But in her defense, when Professor Snape interrogated her an hour later, Marcus Flint kind of deserved it. 

“Why not, Flint? I’ve been trying to get in the team ever since you became Captain and decided I wasn’t good enough after our fourth year,” (Y/N) had said, voice raising after more words left her mouth. With her broomstick in hand, she stepped down the stands and marched towards him. 

“You said it yourself, (Y/N), you weren’t, and still aren’t, good enough,” Marcus responded while shrugging his shoulders arrogantly and walking past her. 

“I was good enough, you prick, I was better than just good enough and you fucking know it.” All of the group that had gathered to try out turned their heads in her direction when she started to scream, whispers and shared glances expectant of the outcome of the argument. Pushing a third year in front of her out of her way, she kept walking, stopping only after she was face to face with Marcus. “And how can you be so sure I’m not adequate? You haven’t even let me fly around the Pitch for the last two years.”

Ignoring her, Flint commanded the two boys carrying the box full of equipment to leave it on the floor and start to warm up. 

“Can you… Can you, please, let me try this one time?,” (Y/N) whispered, burying her pride and dignity in the same coffin after the word please escaped from her mouth. 

“Now you’re begging, you are pathetic, (Y/L/N), and they say you’re supposed to be dangerous” the boy exclaimed, clearly enjoying seeing her so desperate. He walked towards her, his taller figure towering over the girl. “Let me tell you something. Both of us were on the team, right now one is the Captain and the other one… Well, I’m pretty sure you know your exact position in this whole thing. And that’s why you are not in my place, because you are not good enough.”

Her teeth, jaw and fists clenched at the same time, the rest of her body shaking slightly, lighting up on fire with every sentence Marcus sneered at her. 

From a young age she had people question her, her interests and her decisions, even her place in the House of ambition, many believing the girl to be “too soft” at first. That had changed after the start of her second year. If they wanted her to be violent, rash and reckless, that’s what they got. Now, every time her name was mentioned around Hogwarts, whispers and rumours would be shortly behind. Most of the things people said about her were incorrect, not even close to the truth, but she accepted them anyways. She took each one of the rumours and turned them into her truth.

For some (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was on the right path to become a Dark Witch, a pureblood longing to take on Lord Voldemort’s place and rule over the Wizarding World, torturing muggleborns and blood traitors. To others, she was the Devil’s offspring in the flesh, waiting for the right moment to raise the forces of hell upon Hogwarts. And they were the ones speaking of her mental state while coming up with ridiculous theories. Nonetheless, she had to admit it was a new kind of entertainment seeing the first years getting warned about her, bombarding them with false information and stupid allegations. But the laughs she would have from it on her own company didn’t erase the loneliness and the solemn feeling of having no one. 

Like the symbol of her house, (Y/N) was a creature of instinct. And like what people murmured about her, (Y/N) was also a creature of violence.

As only one can imagine, no one was shocked from the response Marcus Flint got. Not in words, or insults, which were regular, but in the form of a fist connecting with his cheek (although she had intended to hit the nose). 

One would think anger makes people a better fighter, all that pent up rage coming from nowhere and lashing out against your opponent it’s more damaging to you than the person you are fighting. Now, this was not (Y/N)’s first fist fight but that didn’t mean she knew what she was doing. Every time she had punched someone it had happened in the midst of uncontrollable wrath growing, attaching itself to the girl’s body, controlling her limbs, numbing her mind.

For a moment she closes her eyes, one thought in her mind, vanishing as quickly as it appeared, — I did it. Again —. When (Y/N) opens them, she notices the change of scenario, or positions. She is no longer standing on her feet, she is several metres away from her housemate, the back of her body on the receiving end of the harsh floor; the loud beating of her heart thundering in her ears, almost giving her a headache, swallowing the spell Flint had used on her. 

After rising from the grass, (Y/N) marches towards him, holly wand in her hand shooting hexes, barely missing its target. She’s about to whisper the Stunning Spell when someone from behind grabs her wrist, holding her back from trying to curse Marcus, whose responses are getting slower and scarcely protecting him. An arm sneaks around (Y/N)’s figure, distancing her from the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. 

Her elbow moves almost instinctively and hits the person behind her in the stomach, the arm around her waist retreating fast enough for (Y/N) to cast a protection charm and petrify Marcus Flint. 

Turning around, she sees none other than Oliver Wood, bending over his stomach with a hand clenching his right knee and gasping for air.

“What the bloody hell was that, Wood?”

“I was trying to help you!,” he manages to say while looking up at her.

“Help me? You were trying to stop me, you twat.”

“Exactly!,” Oliver shouts, making her move backwards, “Do you want to get yourself expelled, (Y/L/N)? Because if that’s what you want, you are doing an excellent job.”

She should have hexed him right there, no one else was on the Quidditch Pitch with them, except the handful of Slytherins and those weren’t the snitching types, but she didn't, surprising herself and everyone else watching them.

||| 

Later that night, after finishing the horrendous detention Snape had put her in —reorganizing his entire cabinet claimed by suspicious ingredients and potions with terrible smells, making the small space smell like rotten eggs and the Gryffindor Quidditch robes after a rough match—, looking at the moon and the landscape surrounding Hogwarts from the Astronomy Tower, she thought about the reasons to why she hadn’t raised her wand, or fist, to face Oliver. 

He wasn’t special. Yes, he was a great wizard, with problems in Potions and History of Magic, still quite good at Defensive spells but not that good to beat her if she was fully focused, he would be easy to defeat especially after Quidditch tryouts. So, why? Why did she just walk away?

“I knew I could find you here.”

(Y/N) turned around, quickly taking hold of her holly wand and raising it towards the tower’s entrance. The thundering in her chest calming, her breathing going back to its normal pace when she realised it wasn’t Sirius Black, the murderer that had escaped Azkaban and was said to have roamed through the castle. 

“What are you doing here, Oliver?”, she addressed him once the moonlight illuminated his tall figure.

“I wanted to apologise,” the boy admitted, his voice faltered just like his approach, as if he was trying to make peace with a beast; as if he was telling a snake that his feet would not come close to its head, “for what I said earlier. It wasn’t fair because I know how you…”

“How I what? How I tend to react when I’m angry?,” (Y/N) interrupted, the hand holding her wand still facing Oliver, “don’t try to act like you know me.”

“But I used to,” he murmured.

Neither of them said anything, both of their minds desperately trying to find the right words, one to plead for forgiveness once again and the other to accept it if the plea ever escaped his mouth.

The distant sound of creatures soaring through the night sky and the flip of their wings was all they heard for minutes, minutes that had felt like hours; she would dare to say days if the sky wasn’t still dark, filled with bright stars circling a full moon. 

“Why don’t we get to know each other all over again? We can start over, please.”

There it was.

And then it came.

“That’s such a great idea, Oliver!,” (Y/N) answered with a big smile on her face, the quick change of demeanour unsettling Oliver. They hadn’t talked in years but he was still amazed at how much he remembered of her, and how this didn’t mean any good. “We can get to know each other like all those years ago and then, you can abandon me like all those years ago”. The grin on her lips transforming into a scowl right after she pronounced the last part of her sentence.

“Why are you even here, Wood? You felt guilty and now you’re trying to make it go away? Or is it charity?,” the Slytherin kept ranting,” or better yet, someone challenged you to do this? I’m putting all my money on the Weasley Twins. 

“N-No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Oliver explained while moving his hands and walking the final steps leading him to (Y/N),“ I just- I never- I, I never wanted this, I never expected it but everyone was talking about you and-and they were saying horrible things and…”

“And you believed them,” (Y/N) stated, turning around to stop facing him and his hurt expression,” I don’t blame you for doing it. It’s quite funny if you think about it.”

“What’s quite funny?,” his gaze still on her when he asked.

“Most of the things you and the rest of the school heard were invented by me, so people would just stop bothering me,” she pretended to confess only to the stars, for if she didn’t, she would never admit it to him,” you can say I planned my entire doom. And it’s quite funny because, in the end, you still believed me.”

“You could have told me, (Y/N). Why didn’t you?”

“You believed the rumours, I’m sure not the craziest ones though, but that tells me that you thought I was capable of actually doing all the terrible things I said about myself.”

“I’m sorry, I am, (Y/N), truly.”

“Sorry doesn’t mend it,” she murmured, now forcing herself to look him in the eyes and act as if the pain never happened; as if she hadn’t missed his company and his random, permanently out of place Quidditch facts.

“I know, but it’s everything I have right now and I hope you can forgive me one day.”

“I have already forgiven you, Oliver, but I was too proud to reach you.”

“Typical you, (Y/N). I should have expected it.”

A small smile formed in her lips and for a moment she forgot their broken friendship, the reputation that had become her shadow and the future awaiting after Hogwarts. It was only them, (Y/N) and Oliver, with the moon glowing down on their faces and the feeling of being eleven year olds settling over their minds.

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[eirikaanemo]

The Hidden Hero

Superhero!Venti x GN!Secretary!Reader

2.7k Words

Warnings: Stalking (not you), thievery, human trafficking mentioned once

Of all the heroes to ever exist, Barbatos: the Anemo Hero is your favorite by far. He was one of the big heros from the Archon Agency along with other major elemental manipulators like Rex Lapis and Baal. They were the big wigs back before All Might hit it big. While they weren’t quite symbols of peace like him, their sheer presence was enough to send most villains running for the hills. Their quirks, teamwork, and training made them extremely formidable. The Archons, as the main seven heroes of the agency were called, were very successful, until they weren’t.

It’s said that ‘all good things come to an end’ and the reign of the Archons came to an end when Tsaritsa left the agency for reasons unknown to the general populace. The remaining six scattered to the winds. They each founded their own agencies and continued to fight crime. But their earlier fame was unsustainable and their hero rankings fell significantly. Despite this, most of them are still actively and visibly involved in the world of heroes. Some, however, are not.

And unfortunately Barbatos is one of those heroes that seemingly faded away into obscurity after founding the Mondstadt Hero Agency and handing it off to his former sidekick, Dandelion Knight. Only the most dedicated fans remember him anymore. It frustrates you sometimes that such a great hero could be so easily forgotten. You will never forget him though, not anything from his teal tipped braids to his signature “Ehe”.

So when an opening for a front desk secretary at the Mondstadt Hero Agency opened up you put in your application immediately. Sure you already had a good job, but working at the agency Barbatos started would be a dream come true. Thankfully your resume got you an interview and the interview went surprisingly well. Apparently you remembering Barbatos was a huge advantage on top of your excellent work experience and recommendations.

When you got the job you could barely believe it! This was a dream come true and you resolved to not let them down. Your first day was absolutely amazing. You got a tour, a run-down of your responsibilities, and got some training. But the best part was meeting many of the heroes and sidekicks who work there, from Alchemist to Outrider to Dandelion Knight herself. The whole day almost didn’t feel real.

You settled into your new job easily and enjoyed it immensely, even if it was ridiculous some days. This just happened to be one of those days. Captain Cryo had been jumping on Dandelion Knight’s last nerve all day. Alchemist’s niece, Klee, had lost her babysitter again and was running around the agency causing chaos. Traveler’s sidekick, Paimon had gotten into another argument and was yelling loud enough that everyone in the agency could hear. And with all this you decided to stay after your shift for a while to finish up some work that needed to be done by tomorrow.

This ended up being the best decision you ever made. Fifteen minutes after your shift should have ended, a new hero slipped through the front doors. Your eyes glossed over him at first before you quickly looked back at him. Were those… teal tipped braids? Could it be? Yes, it had to be Barbatos!

You took a second or two to school your face before looking at him again. He wore a skin tight suit under a loose poncho with a utility belt and some other equipment, defensive and offensive, layered on top. The outfit is mostly dark grey with some dark teal accents breaking up the monotony. His steps were nearly silent as he passed by your desk, scanning his hero badge with the badge reader, and continuing deeper into the building.

Out of curiosity, you took a peek at the information on his scanned badge. Apparently he is an underground hero called Wind Spirit: the Freedom Hero. His specialization is organized crime, specifically dealing with the sensative cases like human trafficking. Not much more is there, but that’s to be expected since he’s underground.

Shaking yourself, you quickly close out the badge scanner software and finish your work for the day. You have work to do and can’t allow yourself to be distracted any longer. But once you finish and go home, you can’t stop thinking about it. Not even two hours ago you had been only feet away from your favorite hero of all time.

You’re so excited that it takes you a while to calm down. But when you do, you have questions. Why did he change his hero identity and go underground? He had been hugely popular. Why did he give that up for a job where he would get little to no recognition?

In the end, you decide it doesn’t matter. He obviously doesn’t want to be recognized or bothered, so you will respect that. It will be difficult but you resolve to try and treat him no differently than you do the other heroes at the agency. No one needs to know that you recognize him, not even him. That would probably be the easiest way to keep his secret. Pretend you don’t know it and play dumb if it ever gets brought up.

By the time you get to work the next day your mind is well and truly made up. In a moment of weakness you do request a change to serve half an hour later than you used to. You try to rationalize it to yourself a couple times, but know deep inside that it’s really just so you can see him. It’s kind of risky but it’s a risk you’re willing to take for a chance to see your favorite hero at the end of every shift.

As time goes on things go even better than you had expected. Apparently the first time you saw him, “Wind Spirit” had been exceptionally busy with a high risk case. Once that was taken care of he slowed down his entrance and started chatting with you as he came in. You learn more about him as a person than you could have ever imagined before.

He likes to sing and knows how to play several different instruments. His “ehe~” laugh is, in fact, how he really laughs and was not just him playing things up for the fans. Rhyming is a habit of his and he loves trying to fit it into casual conversations which bugs some other heroes, like Darknight, to no end. And most of all, he is one of the nicest people you have ever met.

From what you can tell, only a few other heroes know of his past as Barbatos. Dandelion Knight knows of course since she used to be his sidekick and now leads his agency. Darknight and Traveler seem to know as well. But other than that no one else seems to know. They do know him and consider him a friend, but are clueless as to his past.

But there is one other person that seems to know. Every once in a while La Signora, a sidekick from the Snezhnaya Agency, will show up loiter in the waiting area by your desk. When you ask how you can help she responds with, “No, I’m just waiting for someone. There’s something that I have been instructed to… acquire from an old colleague of my boss.”

While she has yet to stay long enough to see him, you’re fairly certain she’s looking for Wind Spirit. And she’s started staying longer and longer. If she keeps this up then she will actually run into him. And your quirk, which gives you emotional impressions based on people’s intentions, makes it clear that she is bad news.

After a couple of these visits you decide to take your concerns to Dandelion Knight. Once you make sure that she is available and have someone watch the front desk for you, you make your way towards her office. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before you peak your head through the open doorway to make sure she’s there.

“Miss Jean, do you have a moment?” You ask cautiously. She looks up from the paperwork on her desk and smiles, obviously relieved to have a distraction from her work.

“Of course,” she says. “Come sit down. How can I help?”

“I have some concerns that I would like to inform you of,” you explain as you take a seat across from her desk.

“Sometimes La Signora comes in and sits in the waiting area for hours and hours at a time. She insists that she’s waiting for someone that she’s been asked to ‘acquire’ something from and that there’s nothing I can help her with. But my quirk is giving me the feeling that she’s up to no good.”

“Do you know who she is waiting for?” Jean asks you.

“Yes, she hasn’t told me outright but I believe she is waiting for Wind Spirit.” You inform her. Jean’s gaze immediately turns piercing and the mood of the room turns sour. You fiddle nervously in your seat as you wait for her response.

“I’m authorizing you to call security if she tries to stay longer than she already has been.” Jean states after a moment of contemplation. Your eyes grow wide. “She is not to run into Wind Spirit under any circumstances, do you understand?”

You nod vigorously. “Of course, Miss Jean, I’ll be sure to let her know and do so if I must.”

She sighs and sends you a thankful smile. “Thank you. The Snezhnaya Agency has been trying to meet with him for some time despite our insisting that, as an underground hero, he is to be left alone. I’m sorry you have gotten caught up in all of this.”

“It’s fine,” you assure her. “I consider Wind Spirit a friend. I will do my best to make sure he is not bothered.”

“Thank you again then,” she remarks. “Is there anything else? I should probably get back to this.” She very carefully keeps her face neutral as she gestures at her paperwork, but you can see the budding grimace on her face.

“No, that is all,” you reply. “I’ll go get back to the front desk.” You get up and walk back to your desk, pondering this new development. To your non-existent surprise, you find La Signora in the waiting area. As usual, you ask if there’s anything you can do to help and she gives you the same response as always. But this time, you have something to say after she says her piece.

“Alright, just know that if you attempt to stay any longer than 4:30, I will have to call security to escort you out.” Her face was priceless as she ground out an acknowledgement before going back to waiting. You did end up having to threaten to call security several times within the next couple weeks, but it did the job and kept her off of Wind Spirit’s back.

In the meantime, Wind Spirit had started coming a little earlier and talking with you a little longer. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was trying to flirt with you. But no, he’s Barbatos. Why in the world would he be flirting with you? Sure he told you his real name, Venti, and lets you call him that now; but you’re just a secretary who got lucky. So you decide that he’s probably joking around with you. There’s a little part of you that hopes though. A part of you that wishes that maybe he might just mean it.

After all, what isn’t there to like? Venti’s a nice guy, makes you laugh, is undeniably attractive and around your age, and you love every moment he spends with you. It might also have to do with the fact that you’ve had a slight celebrity crush on him since he debuted that still hasn’t gone away. For now though, you just enjoy what you have. Why risk what you have?

Then you get sick and miss a day. One day is all it took. You had hoped La Signora would have stayed away for one day when you were stuck puking your guts up all day, but no such luck. While you had been away, the stand-in had ignored you and Jean’s very specific instructions to not allow La Signora to stay past time for some reason. So she ran into Venti and things went down.

You come into work the next morning, still queezie, but better, to find out that she’d stolen a valuable support item from him. A lot of people were running around like chickens with their heads cut off but you could barely breathe. You shouldn’t have missed yesterday. This is your fault. If you had been here it never would have happened.

Flopping down onto your chair at your desk, you bury your face in your hands and try to breathe. It’s not easy, especially with the stress of the situation and the fact that you are desperately trying not to cry. The one day I’m not here, you think to yourself. A tear rolls down your cheek, hidden by your hands.

Then you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?” You hear Venti ask. With your face still in your hands you shake your head.

“No, no I’m not,” you choke out. “This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gotten sick. I should have been more careful, I’m sorry.” You feel him go still. He must not have known. Now he must blame you, hate you, just like you do yourself.

As your thoughts start spiraling you feel two arms wrap around your shoulders and feel him pull you into his chest. “It’s not your fault,” Venti murmurs. “Tsaritsa has been trying to do this for years, it would have happened eventually. And I should have been strong enough to stop her. I guess I’m out of practice with the less subtle, more brute force type moves I used to use.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “You were a lot flashier as Barbatos, weren’t you?” You feel him go still again.

“You knew?” He questions. Then your brain catches up to what you just said.

“Whoops, yeah, uh, I knew,” you stutter. “Ever since I saw you, really. But you didn’t mention it and didn’t seem to want to be recognized so I didn’t mention it. I was a huge fan, by the way- still am.”

Venti squeezes you lightly in the hug. “Thank you, it really means a lot that you kept quiet about it. And besides, she stole my gnosis in full view of a camera so we have a lot of evidence against her when we take this to court. A camera we only thought to put up once you brought up La Signora’s suspicious visits. So we have far more reason to thank you than blame you.”

Pulling back, Venti gently tugs your hands away from your face so he can look you in the eyes. “In fact, I should do something to thank you personally! Could I take you out to dinner? Like a date?” The emotional whiplash caused by his question made your head spin.

“Huh? Me?” You ask him. “You want to take me on a date?”

“Absolutely,” he confirms. “How about Good Hunter?”

“Sure,” you reply a little absentmindedly, still reeling from the realization that his flirting hadn’t been a joke after all. Your favorite hero is actually asking you on a date. The more you recovered, the more flustered and excited you got. “When do you want to do that?”

“Are you available Thursday? I have the day off so we could do it then. Our shifts aren’t really conducive to good date opportunities otherwise.” You nod in agreement.

“I’ll see you then!” You exclaim and peck his cheek before he hurried away to where Jean was calling him. The pink that bloomed on his cheeks was adorable.

By Thursday the court case had been closed up and Tsaritsa revealed her true colors as a villain. Things had been crazy but, thankfully, Venti had still gotten the day off. Your date went wonderfully and you both agree that the next one can’t come fast enough.

He calls you the hero of his story and you call him the hero of your heart.

[spectral-apparitions]

another request, Mayday's love languages? I just... Mayday makes my brain produce happy chemicals-

Quality Time: Always wants to be with you! You just make her so happy and she thinks everything is more fun when it‘s with you. Every event that she’s excited for, she asks you to come with. Yes, this concert is gonna be hella awesome, but it would be way way cooler if you were there too! She loves taking you with her to do things she loves, it makes her incredibly happy to share that fun time with you.

She also loves tagging along with you to your favorite events and activities. If it’s important to you, it’s important to her, so even if she has no idea what’s going on she wants to experience it with you. Also she loves learning more about you and seeing your reactions to everything.

She takes you on a lot of dates! She sends you lots of text messages showing you what she’s doing or likes calling you just to have you on the other end. She loves spending time with you so much, and she misses you when you’re not around.

If you need space from her at any time though, she understands. What’s important is that you get back to her when you feel like it again. She misses you, but she respects your boundaries. She still sends you a message every so often to make sure that you’re okay, especially if you need space because you’re not feeling well.

And if you don’t feel up to doing anything, that’s fine too. She’s happy to just be in the same room with you and occasionally chat.

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Physical Touch: She’s super touchy, always having contact with you in one way or another. Sometimes it’s quick things like high fives or back pats, which you may notice she shares with friends as well. She’s openly cuddly with friends and hugs them often. If that makes you uncomfortable, be sure to tell her! She’ll do her best to reassure you that she still loves cuddling with you and will tone down her affection with friends around you. She wants to lean against you or be touching you somehow all the time, even when doing different things she likes that feeling to know you’re there. She’ll even lay on top of you (and if you like pressure stims, she’ll gladly lay on you all the time). She loves holding your hand too, and when you walk together she may swing your hands back and forth. Despite being so touchy, she gets shy about kisses. You can easily fluster her with any kind of kiss! Gently holding her and playing with her hair are the easiest ways to soothe her. If she’s tense she’ll melt into you and may tear up if you do this. Gentle touches comfort her a lot. When you’re not around, she cuddles up to pillows or stuffed animals. When you’re going to be gone for a while, or if you don’t like cuddling much, you can give her one of your blankets or shirts, or gift her something like a stuffed animal or blanket. She’ll cuddle up to it and think of you.

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Words of Affirmation: She can be very chatty when she’s affectionate! She admires so much about you, and she can’t help but tell you! Every nice thing on her mind, she tells you She’s constantly saying “I love you.” And when she’s excited or emotional, she strings lots of compliments and statements of love together, tripping over her own words. She tends to speak very quickly and loudly when she’s excited or happy, but if she’s shy she can either speak quickly and quietly or softly and broken up. So when she’s really emotional, good luck figuring out what she’s saying. She tends to be more confident in declaring her love for you through words once you’ve been dating a while, but when she first knows you and any time she’s not sure how you’ll respond to what she says, she gets more shy. Compliments and loving words are an easy way to her heart. Flirt with her, tell her your honest feelings, just say something like “text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe” and she starts blushing and squirming. If you text her, she reads over those messages again and again, and any voice recordings she listens to on repeat. Hearing affirmations of your love make her so happy! You don’t have to give her words often, as she can thrive off of them for days. But if verbal affection isn’t your thing, perhaps some little notes or the occasional text or call will help, as she can read it over whenever she needs a boost.

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Gifts:

Gets you all sorts of things! Every time she goes on a trip, she makes sure to get you a souvenir whether or not you tagged along. When she sees your favorite food or drink in store, she picks some up for you. Any little knickknacks she finds that remind her of you she gets for you. On bigger occasions, she tries to get you something sweet and personal. She gets you framed photos of your memories, or crafts something decorative based on your interests or that’s symbolic of a memory or your relationship. She prefers making her own cards for you as well, as she never can find any for sale that she thinks are perfect. She gets a little nervous about giving you gifts like these, hoping you’ll like them. Loves everything you get for her. She’ll hold it, stare at it, and think “Wow, they thought of me! I love them, I love this!” Gifts like toys or blankets she cuddles with all the time. Things that she can hang up, frame, or display she gives a special place in her room. Things that get used she takes great care of and tries to take her time with to enjoy.   She’s giddy to tell people when something she has is a gift from you. Something in particular she loves is photos of you or the two of you together, as she loves seeing you and remembering good times together. She proudly points you out in photos to other people and tells them all about when it was taken.

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Acts of Service: You need something? She immediately runs to do it for you. As soon as you complain about having to do something, she pushes you aside to do it herself. Unless she really doesn’t want to do that thing, when she might hold back. Besides just doing it herself, she also offers to do things with you. It won’t be so bad if you do it together, she thinks, maybe even fun.

You can relieve a lot of stress for her by offering her help, too. Sometimes needing to do things stresses her out - or she gets busy doing one thing and forgets another, then gets frustrated to find she has another task. You can help her out by doing chores, setting up something fun or relaxing to do, helping her with anything she’s doing, or giving her reminders and helping her manage time. It does a lot to relieve her stress and she really appreciates it. If you do her favors and help her take care of chores, she’ll thank you over and over. One way to really make her feel special is to set up an evening where you just take care of her, or even just to help her unwind with a bath or relaxing and lowkey activity.