#that’s part of the reason this scene would have hit harder and been more difficult to side with someone had it been luke

[that0nebird]

I really hate how some people act like Kenny was insane for his reaction to the whole AJ ‘dying’ thing in season two as if Jane doesn’t have a history of letting children die and then acting like there was nothing more she could do.

[feroluce]

For me, as much as I adore the theme of travel companions, henghill is more of a "someday" thing in that regard. I love Boothill being a weird loner Galaxy Ranger rather than a Nameless- man is undomesticated and belongs sleeping in the cargo holds of supply ships, threatening silence out of anyone that tries to report him. Let him be wild and free!!

I would LOVE it if Boothill just hitched a short ride off Asdana to whatever the Express' next destination is, though!

Like maybe the Express decides to stick around Penacony for a while, the same way they do other destinations, and Boothill is there anyway to investigate Oswaldo Schneider. It's rare to find a planet where the IPC is present, but doesn't actually have a lot of power; he can't pass this opportunity up!

And in that time, he sees a lot of Dan Heng.

Boothill gets text messages asking him to the quieter parts of the Dreamscape (he threatened and made a scene - it's called standing up for your rights, Dan Heng was given a room with a Dreampool by The Family for helping root out The Order) or mostly to the Express, where Dan Heng curiously asks him about Paths, about aeons and Emanators, The Rangers, all the worlds he's seen and places he's been.

Boothill isn't really surprised the first time they spend an entire night talking and discussing- after all, they'd chattered a lot that first day they met at the bar in the Reverie! But in talking so much, of course the topic of home comes up.

Dan Heng asks about Boothill’s homeworld.

Boothill tells Dan Heng it's gone now, and changes the subject.

Boothill asks about Dan Heng's past, before the Astral Express and the Nameless.

Dan Heng freezes up and closes off, and changes the subject.

In yet another moment of tacit understanding, neither of them ask again.

But this continues, all throughout their stint in Penacony, finding each other and seeking the other out for no reason other than good company. Dan Heng adds ridiculous amounts of data to the archives that Boothill dictates to him. They both know he could get that information elsewhere if he really wanted. Boothill finds he's kinda happy he doesn't.

And Boothill is someone who's hard to keep up with. He knows he is, and he has no problem with it. It's part of what makes him excel as a Galaxy Ranger. But there's something fun about how Dan Heng just rolls with it, and so effortlessly! Boothill finds something shady going on, grabs a guy who was preying on people, and has this dude held up by the collar with his feet swinging while he cackles right in his face, when Dan Heng shows up.

Boothill says they're just having a friendly chat. He makes zero effort to hide what he's actually doing. Boothill's new friend pleads for Dan Heng to help him, please! This guy's crazy!

Dan Heng materializes his spear.

The guy apologizes even harder, tells them he won't do anything shady ever again, promise, promise! Boothill's jabbers at him and shakes him around some more before Dan Heng taps the pole of his spear against the covered metal of Boothill's leg and tells him come on, he's already scared the man witless, they have a date to keep. Boothill drops the guy and watches him scurry off like a cockroach.

"So, now it's a date, huh?"

"...Come on, let's go."

They go to the Dreamflux Reef after that, because Boothill just so happened to totally by coincidence find that shady guy's wallet (read: robbed him blind) and he wants that money to go back to the native Penaconians before anyone else. Dan Heng follows, and stuffs all of the man's credits into the tip jar of the bar they go to.

And even when the Express embarks anew from Asdana (with Boothill hidden away in some corner or compartment, because the IPC finally got pissed enough to start looking for him under The Family's noses skzikske) this continues. The next planet is difficult to get to because of Stellaron activity; so they have to fly manually part of the way instead of warping. Boothill doesn't get his own room since he's only hitching a ride, but Pom-Pom graciously allows him to sleep on a couch-

("Thank ya, Fluffy. No hard feelings about before, right?" "You're lucky my other passengers like you. And no shoes on the couches!!")

-in one of the cars. And it becomes normal commonplace to find Boothill telling stories, and Dan Heng rapidly writing them all down, at obscene hours in the parlor car while Himeko and Welt ask if either of them even slept.

Boothill teaches Dan Heng all about his favorite drinks and liquor in general, how to aim and shoot a gun, how to hunt and track prey. Dan Heng teaches Boothill about a lot of the teachings of Lan and The Hunt from the Xianzhou, what it's like there, some of the culture, some of the fables and old tales.

Boothill still leaves when it's time to go. He's still got things to do and people to kill, after all.

But it never feels like he's very far. The archives are full of him, even if he's never mentioned by name. The article on the Galaxy Rangers is several times longer than it was before. There's new data on multiple planets and worlds.

There's one that's still just a header and title. Boothill doesn't know about it yet. Dan Heng hopes he can fill the page on Aeragan-Epharshel someday and show it to him.

And even if he doesn't stay, he does return. Boothill breaks in stops by any time he happens to be nearby. He's used to traveling without much rest, and only takes what he can easily carry on him- nothing that can slow him down or hinder him. He can't put a bullet between Oswaldo Schneider's eyes if he gets himself killed over something as stupid as being weighed down in a fight, after all.

Dan Heng is similarly sparse. He still sleeps in the archives, with nothing but his futon and old suitcase to mark the space as his.

But there's an old wooden guitar carefully propped in the corner, just waiting for its owner's return.

[theincorrigiblemagpie]

Anne of the Island - the last chunk of the book

I'm going to SPEEDRUN several chapters here because I cannot believe I came back on the LAST day of book club! This is going to be very long but I can't just skip to the end.

Just to add to the list of reasons I hate Mrs Douglas, she would think it frivolous of Janet to wear a pretty dress but sees no issue with wearing nicely tailored silk dresses herself!

Ugh the hateful woman can sure design a high tea menu. Does she take time off from Evil Plotting to read women's magazines?

Imagine if Mrs Douglas lived another 10 years?? Insanity

I never want to hear shit about how age makes you more forgiving. If anything, I was more patient in some ways in my 20s, than in my 30s. Good for Janet and John but the fact they won't tell people what Mrs Douglas did is SO frustrating!

Heavily relate to the humour and horror associated with reading your own old work. At some point, I learned not to stuff pop culture references in every crevice, but before that, it was a bloodbath of song lyrics and viral memes and movie references.

Bring back walking parties, I say! I enjoy walking around and wish I could do more of it with my friends.

Anne's mental note about Christine's walk lol

The scene of the Gardner visit is one of my favourites in this book. I weep for Pris' cake. She could've just offered them some but chose the much funnier option.

I'd never heard the name Aline before when I'd first read AoI. And then many years later, I found it in one of Lisa Kleypas' Regency romances. It's one of those names I've remembered for having felt somewhat unfamiliar to me. Pretty, though.

Lmao remembering how I furtively looked up 'gumption' in the dictionary at 11 years old, almost as if Aunt Jimsie's ghost would catch me in the act and judge me for it.

Look, I don't care how Phil reacted when Anne turned down Roy's proposal. You'll never convince me that she wasn't playing the long game to get Anne and Gilbert together.

Gilbert just needs a hug. :( Imagine seeing Anne carry your flowers at convocation and your foolish heart thinking may be there's something there for you after all and then bravely asking her for a dance at the graduation party even though your head is telling you it's a bad idea only to be turned down again!!

I've moved around a bunch in my life and I definitely feel like I've left pieces of me behind in every place I've spent meaningful time in! I wholeheartedly agree with Phil's sentiments about places acquiring personalities.

I do wish we got to see more of the very prescient Stella! She's said a handful of lines in the entire book and most of them have been very insightful or practically useful.

I actually think more highly of Phil for being hard on Anne initially. I know, I know, there's a lot of 'we support women's rights, but more importantly, we support women's wrongs' feeling I see around on social media. And I'm mostly for it, even. But I do think it's important to hold your friends accountable and have difficult conversations sometimes.

The image of Roy pining away over women who didn't even know he was into them, probably, is killing me lmao.

I know Mrs Lynde is being very bitter about Jane but it comes entirely out of her love for Anne so I can't be mad about it.

Lol now why is Mrs Harmon salty about Anne's BA? Didn't she think it was pointless anyway? Or am I misremembering?

Ugh this woman is just unrelentingly bitchy.

Reddit would hate the age gap between Mr Inglis and Jane lmaoo

Looked this up and it seems to refer to HW Longfellow's poem Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie. Acadie is just Nova Scotia, PEI, NB and part of Maine. Makes sense for a poor minister to not be able to go far on his honeymoon!

One of my baby cousins got married a few days ago and Anne's thoughts about Diana's motherhood are hitting even harder.

Mrs Allan's story about her mother has always made me tear up a bit.

The scene where Anne hears about Gilbert's illness is appropriately awful but I'm dying over Davy's interjections. "He's dying." "Nooo, there's still hope." "The doctor said there's no hope." Absolutely screaming.

The paragraphs where Anne realises she loves Gilbert are SO GOOD. Ugh.

I'll never get tired of LMM's descriptions. It makes me want to see PEI and Canada like nothing else.

I'm obviously partial to Gilbert but also, this is such a top-tier proposal. And to do it in Hester Gray's garden? 5 stars. No notes. Perfect ending.

I've had such a good time doing this book club with you all, I'm sad it's over!

[moe-broey]

UUUUAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIKE. LIKE. Okay so, because I have no idea where to start, I'm just going in Book order for now. I esppp needed the refresh on the prologue. Also because I am just. This Fucking Close. To actually making a whole ass timeline of Events for Moe. I have a plethora of rough ideas in my head, things that are important to me, but will be extremely difficult to pull off all simultaneously ESP bc in true Alfonsecore fashion, a lot of things. Are just contradicting each other. Here.

But that's not the reason why I'm complaining. No. The REASON I've come back so soon to scream out in agony is because. This is supposed to be for my Alfonse quotes blog bit. And a study. Ect. Okay.

But as Soon. As SOON as Sharena hit the scene. Dude I'm gonna thrup I can't just OMIT her FUCKING DIALOGUE...... not only is she a cutie patootie but like. Her voice IS easier to come up with on the fly, because she's so casual. But. I Feel Like. And I have been feeling this way for quite some time actually. I NEED to capture her voice better, too. Because even though she's more casually spoken than Alfonse, she has this like. Whimsical and almost eccentric air to her. And she still has moments of "proper" speech patterns too, like. She has a VERY funky combination of being so personable and easygoing that you forget she's a princess, BUT! You sort of get the sense that she was raised a very specific way. For better or worse.

About to run in circles real bad and not even get to my point, but. I'm writing all this down in a notebook, btw, just seems like the easiest way as someone who doesn't have a computer (to be able to do two things at once, yeah I'll have to type all that shut out later BUT it's part of the Process).

NOT MAKING SENSE OR ANY POINTS. ALL OVER THE PLACE. BUT. If I don't have her dialogue at very least in this notebook I'm gonna thrup. ESPPPP as someone who's main focus really is just. The family dynamics. Like. My area of focus is SUPER narrow in that and I struggle to expand outside of it

AS AN ASIDE. LIKE. I DO FEEL LIKE. IN ALL OF THIS. I really should study Anna too. She really does hold the group together. And I'm very much thinking about the specific roles charas like Senshi and Chilchuck play in Dungeon Meshi actually. Chilchuck is a literal dad, and that does often bleed into his dynamics with his party members, BUT. He is like World's Most Number #1 Professional Work-Life Balance Business Man. It would be extremely reductive and a disservice to his character to just slot him into being "the group's dad", because. His whole DEAL is that separation of work and private life, how important that is to him. Meanwhile Senshi feels harder to place, in this category, but I feel like he plays a similar role. He's a mentor. He has skills and a lifestyle he's passionate about. What really is making me think this though, slotting him here, is near the end of Dungeon Meshi where everyone is thinking about what they want to do next. Senshi had a good time with Laois and company, but now he's thinking he wants to spend some time alone. LIKE.... I AM. STRUGGLING. TO MAKE A POINT HERE. BUT. No matter how much of a fatherly or even older brother role (esp in the way his old closest party member was, to him) he takes on, at the end of the day. We created some good memories and lasting bonds, but it also just feels factually incorrect to say "found family", here? He's a mentor. And at the end of the journey, he just wants to do his own thing again.

RAMBLING. SO BADLY. BUT. I FEEL LIKE. ESPPPPPPP in how absolutely VITAL both Chilchuck and Senshi ARE in rounding out the party dynamic. I feel like Anna plays that similar role. Keeping everyone together, professional style, mentor style. It is quite literally her job!!!!!!!

AAAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BRAIN. SOUP BRAIN. But the point of that ramble was acknowledging that characters like that are SO important to round out a cast. But again, my focus and vision is just so, so narrow. I really struggle with anything outside of it!!!!!!!! Esp bc I feel like in my own life if I'm interacting w someone in a professional manner, it just. Begins and ends there. Each of us have a role to play to perform the intended task to achieve the desired result. No matter how much I trust or am fond of someone in that context, I keep a degree of depersonalization and detachment. Doctor, patient. My task is to give you the information you need to perform YOUR task. Therapist, client. The very same. I have not been employed for several years. But that attitude is still there, with maybe a dash (or a heaping helping) of questioning of authority in there. As you do.

......... You are looking directly into my brain. It is such a mess, in here. You are watching me pace from the living room to the kitchen from the kitchen to the living room and so on, talking to myself. Is there anything worthwhile, in here? I'm talking at a rubber duckie. Throwing darts at the corkboard that's tangled in a web of red string of seemingly unconnected topics. Can anybody hear me. Hello........

IN SHORT I think at very least for my notebook I have to write down Sharena's dialogue, too. I WILL start crying if I exclude her. It is for the very same reason my Alfonse folder on my phone is also my Sharena folder. Do NOT separate them. They are A SET. Also some vague thoughts about Anna and how I really struggle to write anything that's outside of a familial or familially-coded context. But having those other flavors of bonds really do flesh everything out and like. Well when I try and think outside of my very narrow tunnel vision I just

All of that is just a lot of words to say I love Sharena with all my heart anf I'm gonna be unwell if she isn't At Least in the notebook, idk if I'll do anything w the dialogue I'm recording there outside of just. Studying it I fucking guess. And also, when it comes to Anna, just. Skill issue. Of some sort. But I am Thinking About It. For the sake of a well-rounded cast of characters...........

[letapollojusticesayfuck]

A (Noncomprehensive) Guide to Zine Apps; or: How To Show You're Going To Be Good At The Specific Thing You're Applying For

There's been a lot of zines opening apps recently, and with that comes a lot of acceptances/rejections and questions on what applicants could do differently to finally get to be part of a project they're enthusiastic about. While I'm not some kind of all-knowing zine expert, I have been in a good handful so far, and so thought I could share some tips.

Read the Info Doc or Carrd for zine requirements and theming. Seems obvious, but this is always a good first step when you're thinking about applying for something. Think about how the zine's theme fits in with pieces you've already made--you'll have a harder time getting into a zine that's themed for something you've never written/made art for before than you will with a zine that fits with your typical works. These informational resources are also where you'll find the specs that you'll be expected to work to for the zine, which can then inform what example pieces you choose.

Choose your example pieces based on the zine's theming. What is the zine trying to accomplish? Which characters are going to be showcased? If you're applying to a zine all about platonic love, maybe don't have all three examples you provide be heavily shippy. If you're applying to a zine about women, make sure you've got some examples of writing/art that showcase you writing women! Personally, I never use the same combo of writing samples twice--I've got a pool of fics I pull from that are roughly in zine-wordcount-territory and I select them based on what the zine I'm applying to is about.

Make sure your examples show off the style you would be expected to create for the zine. This is where having read the info doc comes in! If you're applying as an artist, typically zines will expect art contributors to create pieces with full backgrounds. Make sure you've got at least one example in there of a piece that matches that description! For writers, usually the request will be to tell a complete story in anywhere from 1500-3000 words (depending on the zine), so keep a stash of oneshots within that word count ready to go to use as your writing samples. There's some other considerations, too--is this a fluffy, shippy zine? Maybe don't use your angstiest work in the application. Is this a serious, somber-toned zine? Think twice about including the comedy crackfic you're proud of as an example. Remember, the mods are looking for people to help bring their specific zine vision to life--you'll make their lives (and your own!) easier if you give them examples that already go along with that vision.

A coda to the last point: what if you don't have anything for that fandom written? While that's definitely a more difficult situation, there's ways around it: mainly, making extra sure your submissions hit on the tone of the zine. Are you applying for a ship zine but haven't ever written that ship before? Maybe use some pieces that feature the characters involved individually. Do you fully not have any works including the characters from the zine's fandom? Think about the kind of writing/art the zine wants you to create, and send in your best submissions having to do with those: for shippy zines, show that you can write/draw romantic scenes! For gen zines, choose your best character introspection moments, or anything that shows off the genre (lighthearted? comedy? angst?) best.

Don't rush things. Remember, apps are usually open for a while! If it's the beginning of the application period and you're not sure you've got any good examples to apply with, maybe send out a call for writing/drawing prompts and aim for that zine wordcount/art specs goal! Taking the extra time to make sure your examples are relevant will let you put in a much more curated application

At the end of the day, it's all just for fun. I know this sounds a bit like a PSA, but ultimately there are many reasons why people are rejected from zines, and they're not because of some personal failing--usually it'll be a case of many applicants and few spaces to fill. Don't be discouraged--there's always more projects coming along, and you can always find or found some other, non-application-based fandom events in the meantime!

Anyway--hope this was useful in some way to someone out there! I know zine rejections can be frustrating and a bit demoralizing, and I can assure you that I've definitely been right there with you. I definitely encourage trying to flesh out your portfolio of zine-styled pieces even when you're not actively writing or drawing for a zine--it'll give you more variety to pull from for apps in the future.

If you have any thoughts or questions, do feel free to send an ask or add them on to the post--as a writer, I mostly have writing-focused advice, but there may be some artists out there who've got art-specific tips too.

[everybodyshusband]

🛏️ 🦷 for the ask game

Happy new year Felix :)

happy new year moth :)) <33

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

honestly i'd love love loooooove to try and write a proper fluffy, mushy, silly meet-cute...

🦷 Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're dreading to write (but is necessary to your plot)? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

not for any specific reason but the next chapter of uni ghouls has been kicking my entire ass for months and months because it doesn't want to be written no matter how hard i try lol i've got a snippet i can share though, so for those who want to read a bit of it (900-ish words), it's under the cut !! :) and not at all edited lol please be nice

As he reads through the overview section of the first chapter, Aeon notes that it’s nothing too difficult for the most part—not yet at least. There are some harder biological topics in this chapter specifically, but it all looks manageable enough so far. And if it’s not, then maybe Aeon can ask Aurora while they figure out the note-taking capabilities of his well-loved tablet; she’s always had more of a head for science and maths than him, ever since they were children.

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by Swiss coming over to place his drink and muffin down in front of him. “Hitting the books early, huh?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” he smiles, and with a deep breath that his head tells him is unnecessary, he tries for a joke. “Just lightly though, wouldn’t wanna scare away your customers with my powerful displays of intense masculinity…” He laughs awkwardly as he finishes speaking, hoping that Swiss understands his attempt at humour.

It takes a while, but soon enough, recognition lights up in Swiss’ eyes and his mouth splits into a grin that he so desperately tries to fight in an effort to carry on the joke. “This cafe welcomes people from all walks of life,” he chuckles. “You feel free to hit those books as hard as you want. They deserve it for what they’re about to put you through…”

“Oh no,” Aeon groans. “That bad?”

“I can’t speak from personal experience, but yeah. Dewy was whining about that General Sciences textbook all through the first semester last year.”

Dewy… “Dewdrop took General Sciences last year?”

Swiss nods. “Uh huh. All you science-y people have to, no matter what degree you’re doing. I’m studying music, I have no idea how you folk manage to do all that. Over half of my grade is performance based, I don’t do shit. It’s fantastic.”

Aeon sighs dramatically, heaving his shoulders. “Fuck, maybe I should switch degrees,” he jokes. “Screw my ten-year plan, I wanna study music with you if it gets me out of textbooks and exams.”

Swiss tilts his head, a curious glint in his eyes. “You play?”

“Barely,” Aeon snorts. “I picked up guitar a couple years ago, but I’m not very good.” He purposefully neglects to mention that the only reason he plays guitar even a little bit is because his therapist from high school encouraged him to pick up a casual hobby to keep himself entertained and his hands busy whenever his mind starts racing.

“Hey, that’s fine,” Swiss reassures him. “You’ve still got plenty of time to learn! And hey, if you ever want a teacher…” He trails off, wiggling his eyebrows at Aeon and not so subtly pointing to himself, “then let me know. If I like you, I won’t even charge you.” He cements his joke with a wink and Aeon tries his best not to blush. He’s not sure he’s very successful in his attempts.

“Anyway,” Swiss continues, clearly remembering he’s at work and should be helping his coworkers and actually doing his job. This theory of Aeon’s is proven correct when he glances over to the coffee machine and spots Rain glaring at Swiss from behind the register, holding up a pile of order tickets that they need Swiss’ help with. Aeon pointedly does not think about the stormy expression on Rain’s face, nor about what he would do if it were trained on him instead. Luckily for the sake of Aeon’s dignity and his clean pair of shorts, the barista’s smile immediately brightens as they spot him. He tries not to make a big deal of it as they place the pile of dockets back onto the counter to wave at him with both hands, another thing he fails spectacularly at—how could he not, when Rain looks like he’s made their day just by showing up? Aeon wonders if that’s what Rain looks like when they smile at Dewdrop… Fuck, he needs to stop.

“Earth to newbie,” Swiss calls, carefully waving his hand in front of Aeon’s face, effectively blocking his view of Rain. Aeon does his best not to pout. “Down bad, huh? Don’t worry, we all are,” he whispers, smirking. He raises his voice back up to a normal volume when he speaks again. “I hope your hot chocolate hasn’t gone cold from how long I’ve kept you from it. Let me know if it has and I’ll make you another one,” he smiles warmly.

Aeon nods and manages to murmur his thanks just before Swiss continues speaking.

“Maybe after I help Rain with that mountain of orders though. I don’t even wanna think about where my body would be found if I didn’t help them… But if I do remake it for you, I won’t be giving you extra marshmallows like Rainy did, okay? You’re lovely, but I’m not as obsessed with you as they are,” he winks yet again.

As he pretends that his whole worldview hasn’t been shattered by the notion that Rain might like him back, Aeon can’t resist the opportunity to tease. “As obsessed?” He smirks as Swiss splutters in mock outrage, the man’s faux annoyance melting into laughter as he begins to slowly walk away from Aeon’s table.

“Alright, alright. Enjoy your drink, newbie!” Aeon just about hears Rain’s “his name is Aeon” over the whirr of the coffee machine and blushes into his hot chocolate as he takes a sip. Despite his chat with Swiss, his drink has miraculously stayed relatively warm and it’s just as delicious as when Rain had made it the other day.

[raggaraddy]

your writing is amazing 🥺

could i ask for a yoongi version of the reader being shot because of them? your other ones are so good!!!

Family affairs

@dramaclub-thin

A/N: Thank you, sweetheart! I'm glad you're enjoying the series. This one has a bit of OT7 and I hope you like it too. 💜💜💜

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Other parts:

Namjoon

Jimin

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: You'd tried so hard to hide your relationship with Yoongi from your father. You knew when he found you were dating someone from a rival club that he'd kill you. You just didn't think it would be literal.

Trigger warnings: Violence, Filicide, Blood, gun usage.

Yoongi

Mafia! Yoongi

Mafia! BTS

"Yes Daddy," you poke your head through the door to his office with a little knock. Normally you would never bother your father while he was working, but one of your brothers came to your room to let you know he was calling for you.

"Ah, Darling. Yes, have a seat." He stands up from his desk, gesturing to the chair ahead of him. "I need your advice on something."

For a moment you get a flutter in your stomach. He never asks you for anything. Your his pretty princess on a pedestal. And he never involves you in anything that a woman wouldn't have been responsible for in the 1950s.

"Of course," you smile, shifting comfortably.

"I know you're tech-savvy, so maybe you can explain this to me. I had some photos printed, but I think there must be something wrong with the camera. Have a look,"

Reaching into his desk drawer as he speaks he pulls out a stack of A4 photos. As he lays them out your eyes jump straight back up at him. Checking for his reaction, a sharp pang of absolute fear hitting you. They're pictures of you and Yoongi, his arm around you when you were coming out of the Bangtan clubhouse.

"I know the camera has to be faulty, because that" he tapes your image, "looks like you. And I know my one and only daughter wouldn't be socializing with those Bulletproof scum."

"Daddy, I-I," you stutter with no idea what to say.

You thought you were so clever, so careful that there was no way he'd ever find out. Even when Yoongi would worry about you possibly being caught you would shrug it off. Your love was invincible and meant to be, and you were smart. No chance your family would ever know you're with Yoongi, and no way his family would ever know you were from a rival gang. As far as they knew, you were just Y/n Brown, the hairdresser from one district over.

But clearly, you weren't careful or clever enough.

Your stark silence is loud enough for your father and he nods a sombre confirmation. "How long Y/n?" He questions.

"Daddy, I don't-"

"How long?!" He's quick to anger, making you jump.

"A few months," you lie, your eyes dropping to your lap. Telling him it's been closer to 18 months is only going to enrage him further.

Slumping back into his office chair he lets out a heavy sigh.

"You think you raise your kids right. To know loyalty and family." He derides looking at you fiercely. "But then you find out your own daughter will open her legs for any cretin. In complete disregard of everything she should know."

You knew it would be awful if he ever found out, you know he is a terrifying dangerous man, but hearing your father's derogatory comments are harder to take than you ever expected.

"What did you tell them?" He sits forward. His demeanour, his expression going from disappointed father to cold mafioso.

Your mouth going dry, you swallow hard. Shaking your head softly. "Nothing."

"Bullshit!" He yells. "You expect me to believe they just let the daughter of Bastille get all cosy with one of the 7 without you giving up something."

This is so bad. You knew your parents, your brothers, the entire Bastille would disown you for this, but they'll actually kill you if they think you've sold them out.

"No. I didn't tell them anything. None of them knows who I am. Only Yoongi knows. And I didn't tell him shit. You know I wouldn't." You defend yourself trying to reign in your distress.

"Well, there's a lot of things I wouldn't think a daughter of mine could do." His voice is so detached. He's stopped looking at you. This is so so bad.

"Dad. I didn't say anything." You restate, fighting to convince him. Feeling like you're trying to prove the case for your own life. "I know the rules. Don't talk to anyone. Not cops. Not friends or enemies." You repeat the words that had been drilled in your entire childhood. You knew nothing, you saw nothing. Those are the rules.

"I don't believe you." He says bitterly.

Your hands are trembling, you're panting heavily. You know being with a rival club member is a stupid thing, but the clubs are in a truce.  And despite your father's opinion, you would never be so stupid as to actually say anything. And Yoongi would never let you, even if you decided to. You did one thing wrong, but you made sure you did everything else right.

Leaning back, he opens his phone book. Searching for a number.

"Dad," You plead for his attention. Raising the phone to his ear he shushes you, placing a finger over his mouth.

You have no idea what to do. You've seen him decimate people for so much less than what he's accusing you of. You don't know how to prove your innocence.

The call answers and you can hear a distant 'hello'.  Putting the phone on speaker he puts the receiver down.

"Warren L/n here. I believe I have something of yours," he says.

"What are you talking about?" You inhale a staggered breath, hearing the familiar gruff voice of Kim Namjoon.

Your dad's plan was simple. If you were telling the truth about Bangtan not knowing who you were, their leader would be confused and concerned that you were with the leader of Bastille. But if they knew who you were, this would be a much more straightforward issue. Namjoon would understand right away why he was calling.

And if you were lying about one thing, he could assume you were lying about more.

"Say hello Y/n." Your dad prompts, his look daring you to refuse.

"Hi," You squeak, nervously chewing the inside of your cheek. Your own safety aside, Namjoon was going to kill Yoongi.

There's a brief pause. The background noise on Namjoon's side disappearing. "Kidnapping women? I didn't realise you were handling that personally now."

"Who said kidnap?" he leads the conversation.

"Then maybe you want to explain what one of our girls is doing with you?" Namjoon growls, sounding protective.

That was enough confirmation for your father. The leader didn't know what was going on. But he was about to.

On Namjoons side of the line, he was pacing back and forth in a closed meeting room at the entrance of the clubhouse. Your father was revealing the secret that you and Yoongi had fought so hard to keep.

The phone call ending, Namjoon was in a rage. Marching across the bar he stormed at the table with other members around it. His maddened expression drawing Yoongi's attention. But the older member didn't have any reason to think this fury was directed at him and so he doesn't react quick enough as Namjoon punches him in the face, knocking him from his chair.

The other boys instantly becoming alert, Jungkook jumps to Namjoons side holding his arm out in front of him, looking ready to intervene. Jimin standing between the floored Yoongi and the enraged leader.

"Hyung, what the hell ar-" Jimin snaps.

"You fucking idiot! Bastille's daughter?!" he roars trying to push through Jimin. Jungkook stepping in to help keep him at bay.

Climbing back to his feet, nursing a split lip, Yoongi's eyes go wide. Completely caught off guard by Namjoon's revelation. "How did you-" he gapes.

"Everything she's seen, everything she knows! Do you have any idea how much you've exposed this club?" He lunges again, bowling the mediating members out of the way. Diving through Yoongi, the two men trade blows as they scuffle on the floor.

The scene quickly gets out of hand, and as Yoongi throws Namjoon through a table, Jin and Hoseok come from a backroom to step in also. The four of them now working to pry the two battling men apart. Jimin and Hoseok holding back Yoongi. The oldest and youngest members trying to keep Namjoon at bay.

"Enough!" Jin scolds with a firm shove to Namjoon's chest. "Someone explain what the hell is going on!"

"Just Suga thinking with his dick, instead of his brain." Namjoon spits.

Shirking off the boys, Yoongi barges forward infuriated by the provocative comment. War breaking out again with a solid hit at Namjoon, a gash opening over his eye. Another difficult struggle beginning for the members, grappling and clawing them apart. Having to fully restrain them to have them stop. Being held as they bleed.

Grabbing both of them by the collar, Jin demands their focus. "The next man who throws a punch leaves here with a bullet in his leg!" He growls. "Am I clear?!" His fist tightens, stiffening their necklines.

"Yes,"

"Yes, Hyung."

The two of them conceded, their energy dropping as their eldest releases them. "Good. Now sit down so we can talk this shit out."

It takes several minutes and a round of drinks, but the room calms down enough for the members to sit down. They send the few 2nd levels out and the 95's girlfriends. The bar remaining with only the 7 original members. Taehyung coming back just as the disclosure began.

Namjoon starts, passing along the information your father had given him. The 6 of them all sharing disappointed, worried or angry glances towards Yoongi.

"She wouldn't have said anything." Yoongi insists, after explaining his side also. Trying to defend his decision. To defend you.

"You can't know that," Jimin argues, flumping back in his seat. Taking a sip with a pissed-off scowl on his face.

"Yeah, we've all been pussy blinded before. You're not thinking clearly." Jungkook snips.

"Maknae-" Yoongi warns. Getting tired of the disrespect that keeps getting thrown his way.

"Hey, watch it." Jin interrupts, correcting Jungkook's blunt attitude. The youngest shrugging, downing the last of his drink.

"Look, if she was giving information to L/n, then why would he call to tell you that he knows." Yoongi disputes. Hoping to bring reason back into the debate.

"He wants to trade. The latest shipment of horse for Y/n." Namjoon answers with a frustrated scoff and a roll of his eyes.

"That's close to 500 K. That's not happening," Hoseok jumps in. The rest of them firmly nodding in agreement.

"Okay, but if that's the case. If he's trying to sell her off, that means she's not working with him. Right?" Taehyung backs Yoongi's point.

"Idiot," Jimin shoves his friend, "It could be a part of the plan. A way to rip us off for half a million."

"Or it could be a set-up," Namjoon adds. "Let's say Hyung's right, and she isn't working with her old man. If we're willing to sit down, if we try to buy her back, it confirms that she knows enough that we're concerned about it."

"I'm telling you, she doesn't know anything. She didn't want to know anything. And even if she did, she's not gonna give it up." Again Yoongi vehemently defends you.

"Well if she doesn't give him anything then L/n kills her." Namjoon finalizes. "To hurt the club, and as retribution for her betrayal."

"What I don't understand is why you would let her go back? If you trust her and you know how ruthless Bastille is, why would you let her keep going back to him?" Jin asks, genuinely baffled.

Standing up Yoongi can't take anymore. He's furious. He's upset. At himself most of all. Feeling to blame for allowing you to be in this situation, he leaves in anger. Needing some time to himself to think.

"I don't know, she seemed pretty cool," Taehyung mutters, leaning into Namjoon. "You don't really think he would kill his own daughter, right?"

It's been 2 days and you've been locked in an empty storage shed at the edge of the property like a captive. Your father turned your world upside down looking for information. His people went through your computer, your phone, your car, your room. Everything that was yours he and his men had raided. And just like you said, there was nothing there. No information about Bastille, and nothing about Bangtan.

"Suga. I'm guessing that's Min Yoongi? Unless you're cheating on him." Your dad muses holding up your phone. That is so humiliating. So many nudes and dirty texts are in that chat. There may not be revealing information, but there was still plenty of personal stuff.

"You know Darling, I don't like to admit when I am wrong, but it looks like you were telling the truth. I can't find any proof that you gave up any family details." He smiles softly, your heart lifting with relief for a moment. "But then I was looking through your camera roll and, in the pictures where you actually have clothes on, it's just full of Bangtan." He comes further into the empty shed, leaning on the wall alongside you. Showing you the screen as he scrolls through. The only entrance being blocked by one of his more grizzly looking men. "See here, there's you and a bunch of them at a restaurant. There's you and the leader. You and the crazy one. Here's a family-style photo, isn't that nice."

He keeps scrolling through shot after shot, exhibiting an entire album full of Bangtan family pictures.

"I'm sure you never expected anyone else to see these. I guess I should have been teaching you not to put the same password for multiple devices." He scoffs. "But the interesting thing, when I'm going through these photos you seem to be really close with all of them. Some of these even go back to last year. Which makes the timeline you gave me a little off."

He shows the details of one of the pictures to you, the time stamp from when you had already been with Yoongi for 6 months.

"This one is from May 2nd. Last year. On the 10th those bastards stole one of my shipping containers. With nearly 100 grand worth of merchandise. Did you know about that?"

"You mean people." You sneer, his characterization of human trafficking as 'merchandise' making your skin crawl.

"So you did know." He smiles coldly.

"I found out- I knew after," you justify. Even as you continue to defend yourself, you have a sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

"I'm really curious what else you know." He hums, walking around the front of you to get back into your eye line.

"I don't know anything," you tell him for the 1000th time with an exasperated shake of your head. Moving away to the far side of the shed.

"Darling, I'm your father and I'm telling you we need to reconcile this. Your mother is worried sick. I'm here losing sleep over this. I'm giving you a chance to repay all the damage you've done. A chance to forget all this. You tell me everything you know about Bangtan, and just like that," he snaps his fingers, "you get to return to your comfortable life."

You don't trust his change in tone or his promises for a minute. You may not have known the darkest parts of who he is, but that's how you can be sure that his offer to forgive and forget is rubbish. Not even the father in him would let you forget a mistake. Especially one this major, not with the way he is reacting. And he's so much more brutal when it comes to Bastille.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you've betrayed your family. And we'll find out what we want to know in other ways." he taps the back of his hand in the other, symbolizing a beat down.

You shake your head hard. You might love your dad. But you don't like him. You've known for most of your life that he was a bad guy. And Yoongi, Bangtan, they might not be the good guys, but they've been the family you've always wanted. There is no way you were telling him even the most insignificant detail.

"Hit me all you want dad, I still don't know anything." You snarl.

"I could never hit my own daughter." He taps his heart, a feigned pained expression on his face. Nodding his head in your direction, he trades places with his man who advances on you.

Breathing hard you step back only to hit the wall.

The tall, square-built man swings. The back of his hand slapping your cheek, the force so strong that it smacks you into the corner sidewall. His hand, like a vice, grabs ahold of your head and mightily slams it into the steel beam running down the sheet metal wall. Pushing your hands against his chest, you weakly attempt to fend him off, but he ends your efforts with another solid wack against the frame.

As blood streams down your head, his focus switches. The majority of his attacks landing on your torso.

With you curled up on the floor, wheezing and gasping for breath, the assault finally stops. But not out of mercy. Even through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the outburst of gunfire in the distance.

Both your dad and his man rush out, leaving you locked away. While it's for an equally terrifying reason, you're thankful to have this time to catch your breath. Although every laborious intake brings agony.

After some time, light floods back into the room, your father standing in the doorway outlined by the setting sun. "I'm sorry Darling. If I had to do this, I hoped it would be a bit more ceremonious. But we don't have the time for that now."

You gasp at him raising his gun at you. He shoots three times. One in your chest, one in your shoulder and one in your stomach.

The shock, the impact takes the breath from you. And you can't draw it back in. Your eyes glassing over, your head filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling a fleeting moment of relief as everything goes quiet and dark.

"Fuck. No!" Yoongi howls. He, Jin and two 2nd ranks had chased after your father as he fled.

Bangtan's siege on his property was highly successful till that point, and he had run downhill to the storage garage. Looking to make a getaway.

The other's continue after him as Yoongi stumbles into you. His steely outer shell crumbling away the moment he sees your body limp and bleeding out.

Falling beside you he leans over shaking and in tears. Kissing your lips gently with heartfelt pleas "I'm sorry Y/n. I'm so sorry. Please don't do this. Please."

Jin doubles back, watching distraught from the entrance as his brother falls apart.

Lifting your head up, Yoongi brings your forehead to his. The movement making you splutter blood. The first sign of life that either of the men had seen.

"Holy fuck, she's alive." Jin gawks, jumping in beside Yoongi pressing on the hole in your stomach. The bullet in your shoulder and chest had both hit bone, stopping the slug from going through, blocking the wounds from severe blood loss. The bullet in your torso shot through your bowls and thankfully not through your vital organs. Meaning your chances of survival were much higher. It was either 3 highly unlucky shots or three precisely placed ones.

"I'm so sorry Y/n." Yoongi's in shock. Devastated and guilt-ridden, and unable to make himself function.

"Dude, get your shit together or she's not gonna make it." Jin smacks the side of his brothers head, snapping him out of his grief-stricken daze.

"Can you save her?" He asks rubbing the tears from his eyes.

"Not a chance. But I can keep her alive for a minute until we get to the clubhouse. Call the doc, tell him to meet us there." Jin orders, having much more clarity at this moment. "And get the boys to bring the car around. We're going to need a few of us to move her."

Yoongi follows Jin's lead, wiping the blood from his hands onto his pants to dial.

"Think of it this way," Jin smiles shortly, trying to soothe Yoongi's fear and panic with an ill-timed joke. "If she survives, at least she'll have proved she's Bangtan."

[sevlgi]

hit and run

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: rosé x fem!reader

genre: a  shit ton of angst, some fluff

contents: idol!rosé, actress!y/n, closeted!rosé, costar!au, slight enemies-to-lovers, unhappy endings because i’m a bitch, a lot of attempted cinematic parallels, italicized dialogue is when they’re speaking as their characters

warnings: slight homophobia

synopsis: There’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with a costar who you should hate by all accounts. But of course, you manage to forget that love is usually more like a hit-and-run than a cruise ship. 

a/n: while i was writing this, i  imagined this as what happened before rosie sang “gone”, so maybe you can think of it like that too? i’m honestly so terrified of this flopping lmao... 

for a little background on the film: Y/N plays Luna, a pirate captain who unknowingly sacrificed her family in order to have the power to fight the regime that Rosé’s character Helen is a part of. Helen approaches Luna, determined to help her bring justice, but Helen is unable to choose between the benefits of staying with the regime, and following what she knows is right and destroying her life as a result.

word count: 6.8k

The last thing you want to hear on the morning of your first script reading is that the actress playing your love interest in the film has changed.

“What?” you say loudly, straightening in the backseat. Your manager frowns, and you sit obediently, but the scowl doesn’t leave your face. “What do you mean the actress changed?”

“Yeah. She had to leave the movie at the last minute,” he sighs.

Sooyoung was chosen alongside you, after lengthy interviews testing whether the two of you would be able to handle your characters’ dynamic. It took weeks for the director to decide that you were the pair that she wanted, so the news that you’ll be meeting your costar for the first time in front of paparazzi is quite the shock to your system. “Shit. Then who’s the replacement?”

Your manager presses his lips together firmly before answering, “Park Chaeyoung. She’s an idol.”

You groan and slump down again. “Great. Another idol actress? Please don’t tell me that this is her first role too. Oh god, is she straight?”

“Yes to all of the above,” Chan says tensely.

Maybe you’re being dramatic, but it’s honestly a big deal. It’s the first leading role you’ve bagged, especially in a mainstream LGBTQ+ movie, and Sooyoung was the best costar you could’ve picked. You’ve never met Park Chaeyoung before, and you already know that all your plans are going to be messed up.

Chan pulls the car into the parking lot, and you scowl when you realize that most of the paparazzi have arrived. “We’re going around the back. Y/N, promise me one thing: don’t make a scene, okay?” your manager pleads. “I’m not happy about it either, but Chaeyoung has a good reputation. You’ll just ruin yours if you blow up at her.”

“I promise,” you answer through gritted teeth. You slip through the open side door as soon as you get out of the car, ignoring Chan’s call after you to have a good time like you would’ve.

To make matters worse, you don’t even get a chance to talk to the director or Chaeyoung before you’re swarmed by a crowd of reporters, even if that ‘talk’ would’ve consisted of more yelling than anything. “Y/N, Y/N!”

“Okay, let her up!” Seulgi shouts, pushing her way through. She grips your arm to lead you towards the cast table, whispering under her breath, “I’ll explain later. But just run with it, okay?”

You have plenty of problems with idol actresses, but you’ve never been inclined to say all those problems to their faces. Until now, that is.  Now, you’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with a girl you know has absolutely no credentials to be playing the other role in your upcoming movie, resisting the urge to ball your script up and throw it in her face.

There’s nothing wrong with Park Chaeyoung as a person-- she’s admittedly gorgeous, probably sweet, and you’re sure she isn’t a bad actress in any sense. The only thing wrong with the situation is that she’s painfully straight and auditioning to be your love interest in what might be Korea’s first mainstream lesbian film, and that you have never spoken to her before.

Chaeyoung avoids your stare with a clenched jaw, and in normal circumstances, you would already be apologizing profusely for making her uncomfortable. In this circumstance, though, your obvious grudge against her only contributes to the dynamic her character is supposed to have with yours.

“Miss Kang, is it true that the actors were only picked today?” 

The director grimaces, and the both of you turn to look at the cameras flashing by the sides of the room. It was never the plan to allow paparazzi to sit in on the first reading that you and Chaeyoung would be doing together, especially since it’s true that Chaeyoung was only chosen hours ago, after the original actress bailed. Even though your grudge should be against the girl who left, it’s easier to glare at the one sitting next to you. “Not exactly. Y/N has been confirmed for the role of Luna for months, but we recently added Chaeyoung as Helen. But we can assure that their chemistry will be wonderful,” Seulgi reassures the audience. What a lie.

Yet another reporter calls out, “How much of the script will we be seeing today, and when will the trailer be released?”

“Since the casting was changed today, the trailer has been delayed,” Seulgi says. You can hear the panic in her voice, and clear your throat. “As for the script… we’re only doing part of one scene that will show up in the trailer today, so we’ll just let them begin. Y/N?”

As you take a sip of water to prepare yourself, you almost hope that Chaeyoung messes up her part. It would be bad press, sure, and it would only contribute to Seulgi’s stress, but it would be satisfying for her to realize that she doesn’t deserve her part. She’s just an idol, after all, and she’s taking away representation from the people who need it.

“Are you saying you’re better than me?” you begin, your voice ice-cold.

You watch Chaeyoung’s throat bob, but her voice is steady and clear when she says her line. “No! I’m not saying that I’m better than you… but by all accounts, there’s no way you should have this power.”

“Would you be less scared then?” You pause, watch as Chaeyoung’s expression changes to the panic that her character’s would. “I’m kidding, Helen. I did things to get these powers, things that I’m not proud of.”

“Why would you do that? You’re strong… you don’t need them.”

“I’ve never been-- shit.” The tips of your ears start to burn, and suddenly, your lines are swimming before your eyes. Maybe all your hoping and wishing that Chaeyoung messes up has reflected onto you instead.

She attempts to remind you, “I haven’t always--”

“I know,” you hiss, but your voice is too loud in the silent room. Chaeyoung turns bright pink, too, but you still can’t seem to say your lines out loud. Shit, shit, shit--

“I’m just trying to help,” she sighs.

You whip your head to glare at her, and she winces at the daggers you send in her direction. “Shut the hell up--”

“Okay, the script reading will end here,” Seulgi announces loudly, and you bite down hard on your tongue. You don’t dare to look at the other cast members, don’t dare to think about how they must be guilting you for cutting their PR short. “Thank you everyone, please leave with security.”

You stay in your seat, staring at your script with burning eyes until you feel a hand on your shoulder and jolt. “Hey,” Chaeyoung reminds you, “we can leave.”

“Don’t touch me” is your only answer, and you storm out of the room. Alone.

The next time you see Chaeyoung is the next day, at a script-reading that the paparazzi knows nothing about. (You do see a friend request from a Park Chaeyoung the night before, but you ignore it.)

Seulgi attempts a smile, but it doesn’t hide the bags under her eyes. She claps and raises her voice to get the cast’s attention. “Okay, everyone. We didn’t get what we wanted yesterday, but that’s fine. Um… let’s try yesterday’s scene from Chaeyoung’s part, okay? From ‘you don’t need them’.”

Chaeyoung nods. “You’re strong… you don’t need them,” she starts, worry tinging into her voice.

“I haven’t always been strong,” you reply, your voice harsher than it should be just to stop yourself from messing up again.

“Still. Powers aren’t everything, Luna, it’s too hard to have them.”

You sigh. “Newsflash, princess. It’s harder not to.”

“But--” Chaeyoung interjects.

“Did you ever think,” you cut her off, “that I didn’t care that it’d be hard? Did you ever think that the rest of us are tired of you abusing the thing that you’re given, but we have to fight for?”

You look right to Seulgi once you finish, ignoring the part underneath that says you should look to Chaeyoung at the end of the scene. The director smiles anyway. “That was great, you two. I think you capture the tension perfectly, which is a relief.”

You fight the urge to laugh. “I know that changing our main cast so close to the actual production is really difficult,” Seulgi sighs. “And I’m really sorry to inconvenience you all. The schedule is really squished now, and we just have to work through it. Chaeyoung, Y/N, all I ask is that you try to work together, okay? I know you’ll be amazing together.”

Chaeyoung speaks, possibly for the first time besides her lines. “Of course, Ms. Bae. I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure. We have to cut this short, again, but we’re scheduled for costume fitting right now,” Seulgi groans. “We have to at least get the outfits for the trailer to fit. Sorry, everyone. Down the hall, okay?”

Of course, you and Chaeyoung have to get fit together. The only sound in the hallway is that of her heels clicking on the wood, and you resist the urge to shout at her to stop. Luckily, you arrive in the fitting room before you can.

Your eyes widen at the dress hanging there. It’s incredible, even without the layers that would support the skirt-- you can’t even imagine how the beading and pink silk would look on Chaeyoung. Ethereal, probably. “Y/N, yours is here,” the costume director laughs, beckoning you over.

Even though your own outfit isn’t nearly as opulent, you can’t help but admire the gold detailing on the cuffs and the tailoring. “Thank god yours doesn’t take so much sewing,” the director grunts, pinning the side. “You know, the two of you are going to look fantastic in these, even if we have to spill all that blood on them to shoot the trailer.”

“Sooyoung would’ve looked better.” It’s mean, and it’s a low blow, but the director doesn’t take your bait.

She pokes her head out to where Chaeyoung’s being fitted. “Now? Okay, Y/N, go out there. We need to take a look at the two of you together.”

You can’t stop your jaw from dropping when you see Chaeyoung. She’s all candyfloss hair and gold adorning her tiny waist, and in all her glory, you can’t stop yourself from thinking that maybe she was made for the role. “You look really good,” she compliments softly.

Nodding stiffly, you turn for the seamstresses. Chaeyoung moves to fiddle with her gloves when she realizes that you have absolutely no interest in continuing the conversation.

Well, if there’s one thing you can nitpick about her, it isn’t how she looks; she looks absolutely perfect for the role of Princess Helen, maybe even more perfect than Sooyoung. 

One of the costume directors steps in. “Okay, you can get changed out, but you have to come back in a few hours,” she tells you. “We have to make a lot of changes, then fit you again.”

You step down from the podium, going towards your dressing room without a second thought until Chaeyoung calls for you. “Y/N? Do you want to have lunch later? In your trailer or something?”

“Sure,” you answer, barely glancing back. When you do, all you see is her with shiny puppy eyes, and in her giant gown, it’s eerily similar to the role she’s supposed to be playing.

“It’s nice. You’ve decorated it?”

You nod absentmindedly, clearing the narrow couch off for yourself to sit on, since Chaeyoung has taken the only chair that could fit in the trailer. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had it for a few months, so.”

She winces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you frown. Chaeyoung apologizes too much, but at least she’s upfront about whatever she has to say.

Your costar sighs, “For usurping the role? You must’ve gotten attached to Sooyoung, and it’s got to be horrible for me to just… arrive like this.”

“You know… that’s part of it.” You can’t lie; a big part of the resentment you hold against Chaeyoung is the fact that she took a role meant for someone else, someone you were friends with. “The other thing… I don’t like idol actresses,” you tell her.

Chaeyoung’s brows furrow, and she leans forward. “Why? I mean, why don’t you?”

You pause to think about it. “Well… I mean, think about it like this. Sooyoung and my auditions went for weeks before we were chosen, as a pair. Didn’t you get this role because you were an idol? You had to audition, sure, but I bet you just flashed a few smiles and read the script and got chosen. How is that fair?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but you hold your hand up and continue, “And the other thing. You’re straight.”

Chaeyoung chokes on air at that, spluttering, “What? You hate me because I’m straight?”

“No,” you say incredulously, “Well, I don’t hate you. But you being straight, and landing the lead role in a film like this… you’re taking away representation. And that’s kind of shitty of you.”

The air inside the trailer becomes suffocating, and Chaeyoung’s fiddling with the jacket in her lap finally stops when she throws it aside and stands up. She sounds like she’s about to cry when she says quietly, “Have you ever considered that I’m not straight? It’s not… it’s not that easy to be out about it--”

“Oh, cry me a river,” you groan. “Look, I apologize for assuming, but if you want to act in lesbian roles, you can’t pretend to be straight. It’s all for your fans, isn’t it? Another part of being an idol--”

She stands up, then storms right out of the trailer without another word, the door banging closed. The only thing you can do in response is sigh and utter a quiet, “Shit”.

Perhaps it’s just your luck that the first proper scene you have to film with Chaeyoung is your culminating kiss scene.

It shouldn’t be in the trailer at all-- according to the scene schedule, the two of you would’ve filmed your scenes together in chronological order, and the kiss would’ve been at the end, hopefully after a reconciliation between the two of you. However, for some inexplicable reason, it’s going to be the first one you do, without a single second of rehearsal.

You’re a one-take wonder, and you always have been, but you can’t help but think about how impossible it’s going to be to pull off such an intense scene with someone you just fought with. Sighing, you lean over to fiddle with your hair; it’s slightly tangled now, and there’s a fake scrape on the side of your cheek. 

At a side, Chaeyoung is similarly beat up, fake blood smeared on the left side of her face. Her long hair has been put in an updo and then taken down, and parts of her dress are ripped; to you, she looks more like Helen than herself now.

“Okay, everyone, are we ready? Positions, please!”

You arrange yourself on the ground where you should be, holding a handkerchief to your cheek like instructed as Chaeyoung stands by the camera to run to you. Exhaling sharply, your eyes meet hers for the first time in days. “Action!”

Chaeyoung sprints to you as soon as she’s cued, falling in front of you in a heap. “Luna,” she gasps, reaching a gloved hand out to the ‘injured’ half of your face.

“I’m fine,” you smile weakly. The camera hovers by Chaeyoung’s shoulder, and you soften your gaze as much as possible as your hand comes up to hers.

The other girl only moves closer, her eyes scanning yours and her dress surrounding the both of you like a sea of gauze. Her nose is almost brushing up against yours, and you mutter softly, “Be careful. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Well, what do you want?” Chaeyoung implores, almost inaudible. Her breath quivers, and you feel it when you reach forward to cup her jaw. “Luna, what do you want right now?”

“I’m not making a move until you tell me to,” you shake your head. 

The blonde’s hands slip off your face, and she braces herself on your thighs instead. She laughs breathily, “Coward.”

“Your coward, huh?”

Chaeyoung pauses, scraping her teeth across her bottom lip. It’s so quiet that you think you could hear a pin drop, and the torches held up by the crew flicker across her face so naturally. “If you want to be.”

There’s probably another line that comes after, but with Chaeyoung so close to you, it swims blurrily in your mind. So instead, you just lean up, pull her down, and connect your lips.

She plays along, thankfully, stumbling slightly in her character’s eagerness to get a little closer. The only thing you can hear is Chaeyoung’s slight gasp when you let your hands wander down to her waist, and it’s almost scary how absorbed you are in the scene.

“Okay, cut!” Seulgi’s shout breaks you from your trance, and you hold your hands up as if in surrounder. Chaeyoung’s cheeks are red yet again when she sits up, staring anywhere other than you.

Your director hops off her chair to run towards you, a huge grin on her face. “That was perfect,” she shouts. “Y/N, I think you forgot a line? But it worked out amazingly. The one-take wonder, right?”

You grin when she pats you on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. Apparently, all your worries were for nothing, as you and Chaeyoung stand to monitor your own shot in the screen next to Joohyun.

You can’t even hear all the praise she showers on the two of you, and you pay no attention to all the details she points out that apparently showcase your perfect chemistry with your costar. All you feel is a slight squeeze on your hand, hidden in the mess of fabric by your side.

You jolt awake at the sound of your phone ringing loudly by your side, finding an unknown number as the caller ID. Accepting hesitantly, you greet, “Hello?”

“Y/N? Did Chan give me the right number?”

Oh. It’s Chaeyoung. “Yeah.” You clear your throat in an attempt to sound a little less drowsy, then repeat, “Right number. Why’d you ask Chan?”

“Well, it’s kinda hard to find you when you never accepted my request,” she laughs quietly. “Um, I have to record the OST today, and I was wondering whether you’d want to come watch? Chan said you didn’t really have any scenes later today.”

“Um. Okay. I’ll ask Chan to bring me,” you answer, then hang up. Your head swims slightly, partially due to the fact that you woke up to the piercing sound of your ringtone and partially because you just don’t understand why Chaeyoung’s reaching out again. You should be the one apologizing, after the tangent you went off on, and you highly doubt that your kiss scene doubled as an apology. Of course, you’ll take it.

Your manager is more than pleased to pick you up this time, but thankfully, he doesn’t question you. If he did, he’d probably be the one you shouted at.

The studio is honestly too small for two people, probably hastily set up, but you recognize the recording equipment from a video of Chaeyoung recording one of her group’s songs. And you recognize the girl already standing in the recording booth, waving you over. “Hi,” she smiles, and for all you try, you don’t see a hint of malice.

“Hey,” you mumble, taking a seat. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“Wow, straightforward,” she tries to joke. “What for?”

You scratch the back of your neck, sighing, “For assuming, for blowing up on you, for… I don’t know, kind of everything. I’m an asshole, even if what I said wasn’t wrong.”

Chaeyoung chuckles, fiddling with the mic. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but I wasn’t great either. You definitely had some truth behind what you said, even if it was kind of too to the point.”

“I know. You were just trying to apologize and help us become civil, and I kind of ruined it,” you hum. The other girl adjusts the lyric stand as you continue, “But I’m hoping you understand why I had to say what I did?”

“I do,” she agrees. “You’re definitely right that it’s not good representation at all, I just wish you had heard me out.”

You nod uncomfortably, changing the way you sit on the couch just to distract yourself. “So… you’re gay? I’m just asking because I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about it, and I’ve seen plenty of your interviews.”

“So you watch my interviews?” Chaeyoung teases. When you scowl, she just smiles, “I can’t say specifically, but I am confused. You said last time that it’s just another part of being an idol, and you’re… you’re right. It’s taboo for idols to be gay, even though Korea’s opening up to it a bit more now. So even though I want to, I don’t think I can ever be out about it.”

“I understand. And I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

She swallows, throat bobbing. “Thank you. Hey, Y/N… would you mind singing with me?”

“What?” You stare up at her incredulously; it’s not like your singing would make the other girl faint on the spot, but you definitely don’t possess an angelic voice like hers, either.

But maybe it’s an olive branch. “Just… can you match this note?” She hums, and you attempt to create the same pitch. “Okay. Can you do the chorus part in that key, while I do it in the main one? We’ll sound better like that,” Chaeyoung offers.

Against your better judgement, you stand, and shuffle into the recording booth next to her. “If this sounds bad, you’re taking the blame,”  you warn, and she giggles while twisting the stand so you can see.

You do sound good together, maybe to a level that you would’ve never anticipated.

You know that something’s off when Chan doesn’t wake you up bright and early on your birthday, even if Seulgi already promised that you wouldn’t have to go to work on the day of. After spending many a birthday with him, you’ve already gotten used to him tugging you up just to take you outside and celebrate somehow.

You know something’s especially off when you hear a female voice cursing from your kitchen, and smell something burning.

“Who the shit-- Chaeyoung?”

The girl turns in surprise, caught red-handed with a piece of burnt toast pinched between her fingers. “Um. Hi?” she offers weakly.

Suddenly self-conscious, you cross your arms over the faded sweatshirt you wear. In your own apartment, Chaeyoung is leagues more put-together in the summery dress she wears, her dyed hair tossed in a braid and glitter shining at the corners of her eyes. “Hello?”

“Chan said you wouldn’t be awake for a few hours,” she sighs, shaking her head as she tosses the toast in the trash. “And I wasn’t supposed to burn the toast.”

“What were you supposed to do?” you question, stepping closer. There’s a cake box on the counter, as well as a couple suspicious tubes of icing right by it, and you think you know what’s going on.

Chaeyoung huffs out an exasperated breath. “I was supposed to surprise you. Chan has something going on at home, so he sent me to supervise your birthday instead. Obviously, I messed that up.”

“It’s fine,” you shrug, taking a seat at the counter and reaching for the icing. “I’ve always wanted to decorate a cake anyway.”

She looks surprised at that, but a smile breaks out across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. It’s partially a lie, but you’re decently sure that Chaeyoung will refuse to let you do most of the work anyways. “Uh. I’ll just change first, and then we can get that going?”

“Yeah,” she grins, and you take it as your cue to scurry off to the bedroom.

By the time you come back, there’s a plate of not-burnt toast on your counter, and Chaeyoung’s pouring out two glasses of the juice that you can never bring yourself to buy because of the price tag. “I hope you like it, this is one of my favorites.”

“Like it? I love this,” you gasp, surging forward to pick up one of the glasses. “It’s expensive as hell, though.”

“Well, I couldn’t get you a gift, so I thought a nice morning would suffice,” Chaeyoung laughs. She unties the bow on the cake box to reveal a completely bare vanilla cake, a few packets of sprinkles that you hadn’t noticed now lying next to it. “Do you want to start?”

“Oh, sure.” You choose the blue icing after a bit of debating, and pick up the spatula that your costar offers you. “You didn’t have to, though, I would’ve been okay on my own today.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, “I mean, I didn’t have anything else to do, and I wouldn’t like to be alone on my birthday.”

“How do you usually celebrate?” you question, glancing up at her.

She pauses to think, then answers, “Well, I do live with my members, so we’ll get something to eat. Sometimes, we’re on vacation, so we just do what we can, but I like staying in the dorm to receive the things that their families send me.”

“It sounds sweet.”

“It is,” she grins. “I honestly don’t know what I would do on my own, it seems lonely-- Oh. I’m sorry.”

“What for? It is kind of lonely,” you admit, squeezing a glob of icing out. It’s definitely not as graceful as you would’ve appreciated, and you catch Chaeyoung stifling a laugh. “Chan lived with me at the beginning, but he eventually moved out when I got a girlfriend. Obviously, that didn’t laugh.”

“Sorry,” the other girl repeats again, and you wave a hand out. “When was that?”

“She moved out two years ago,” you answer. “And I’ve been alone since. Or, lonely, not always alone.”

Chaeyoung nods just so that you know she heard you. She accepts the icing tube when you hand it to her, making a spiral that’s infuriatingly better than yours. “How about you? I know you said you aren’t out, but have you dated yet?” you question.

She shakes her head, admitting, “Not yet. I don’t really know how to, you know? You assumed I was straight when you first saw me, so I think everyone else does too.”

“Sorry,” you say, an echo of her.

Your costar doesn’t respond, only setting the spatula down once the basic blue icing is smooth. “I think we’re supposed to refrigerate this before decorating, right?”

You grimace. “Well, I don’t know. I stopped watching cake videos years ago, so I’ll just listen to you.”

Chaeyoung hums and ties the box back up. “Okay, then I’ll just do it. Um, do you mind ordering chicken or something while we wait?”

“Sure.” Reaching for your phone, you ask, “Would you be opposed to romcoms?”

“I’m never opposed to romcoms,” the other girl answers.

You have to remind yourself to order two servings of chicken, something that you haven’t done in a while. But it’s comforting, in a way, to not be alone again.

“Can you believe we’ve only got a week left of filming? I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

You wince guiltily, even though you know that Yerim doesn’t mean it. Acting with your friend was originally a huge incentive for you to accept the film’s role, but the two of you quickly discovered that you had almost no scenes together, and with your push-and-pull with Chaeyoung, you forgot all about it. “Sorry, Yerim.”

She makes an incredulous expression, swatting your arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I’m happy you’re pursuing love and all that, and besides, we’ll have plenty of opportunities to act together.”

Blinking, you set your cup down on the counter. “Pursuing love?”

Yerim raises her eyebrow and says, “Yeah. Aren’t you and Chaeyoung together yet? We’ve been filming for two months, I’ll be shocked if you still haven't kissed and made up.”

“Uh. Well, we’ve kissed, but I don’t think it counted,” you frown. 

Your friend sighs and rolls her eyes. She’s all too used to how dense you are, and apparently, she’s finally gotten tired of it. “You’re an idiot. You literally met the morning of your first script reading, and you knew each other for… what, a week before you had your kiss scene? There’s got to be something there.”

“No.”

Right on cue, a few of the other cast members arrive, Chaeyoung sandwiched between them. “Have you seen the articles?” Nayeon grins, waving her phone around in the air. She’s drunk, obviously, but you have to indulge her.

“Which articles?”

She shoves the screen in your face as an answer, and you cringe when you find a screencap of you and Chaeyoung. “You won’t believe the chemistry-- nope, I’m not reading that.” You hand the phone back to Nayeon, then press it in her hand when she doesn’t take it. Yerim sends you a knowing expression, one that you definitely don’t like.

“Aw, come on! It’s good press,” Nayeon whines. “And a great kiss scene.”

“Don’t be weird,” Chaeyoung warns. She doesn’t seem to be drunk at all, though she does look fantastic in the silver dress that she wears. Your eyes linger on her for an embarrassing amount of time.

Nayeon pouts. She’s bubbly-- you’ve learned that much through acting alongside her in a total of three productions so far. You note that your costar doesn’t seem to be so accustomed to her temperament yet. “You’re no fun, Chaeng. We all know you enjoyed it.”

She goes bright pink at that amidst Yerim’s joking coos. “The token straight, converted?” your friend gasps, and you elbow her to stop her from going too far.

Apparently, it already has. “I didn’t!” Chaeyoung defends herself.

“Prove it,” Nayeon demands, slipping when she attempts to lean on the counter next to you.

Chaeyoung goes silent at that, apparently unable to find a way to ‘prove it’. You finally sigh, “Okay, I think that’s enough teas--”

If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve long since memorized your entire script book, you would almost think that Chaeyoung reaching forward to tug on the front of your shirt is a scene between your two characters. After all, it’s perfectly in character for your eyes to widen comically as the other girl kisses you right on the lips. 

It’s also in character for Nayeon to start whooping next to you when your hands wrap around Chaeyoung’s waist to pull her in closer. You part at the noise. “You certainly look like you liked it,” Nayeon grins. 

“Yeah, get a room,” Yerim follows, and you shove her.

“You know what? Maybe we will.” Ignoring your friends’ jeering, you grab Chaeyoung’s wrist and lead her down the hallway, though not to a bedroom like you joked you would. “Hey. You okay? I didn’t know if that teasing crossed a line,” you whisper worriedly.

She bites down on her lip, but instead of answering you, Chaeyoung tilts your face up and leans closer, only stopped by your hand on her wrist. “Chae…”

“I’m sorry, this… this isn’t what you want, is it?” She steps back, mouth already opening to apologize, but you stop her from leaving you alone in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” With the flashing neon lights echoing in her eyes, you can’t tell what Chaeyoung’s feeling, and you can’t tell if she’s willing to answer you properly at all. “I’m not making a move until you tell me to.”

Still, you don’t hear her say a word, until your grip starts to loosen on her wrist. “Did you drive here yourself?” she finally asks, barely audible. You nod hesitantly, and Chaeyoung’s voice grows firmer when she says, “I’m telling you to make a move.”

“I thought you were questioning?”

She swallows hard and takes your hand. “Not anymore.”

You don’t taste any alcohol when you lick your lower lip, and so, you nod. It’s stupid, especially considering how quickly your time together is about to end.

But for once, you know what you want.

“Good luck out there, Chae,” you smile, arms wrapped around the girl’s waist. 

“Thanks,” she hums, adjusting her hair yet again in the mirror. “We’re almost done filming, I have to promote us well so that we have enough money to at least put the damn film out.”

“Mm.” Your thumb smooths over the sliver of skin exposed by her top, and you place your chin on her shoulder to look at the two of you together.

She glances down at you. “What? Are you thinking about something?”

“Sort of,” you shrug. “I just can’t believe we’re almost done, but we… we just started this. You know, this thing between us.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a thing. But it doesn’t have to stop with filming,” Chaeyoung says offhandedly.

Raising an eyebrow, you question, “Doesn’t it? It’s going to be suspicious for us to constantly be seen together after filming together, I’ve seen the way your fans behave. Especially while you’re not out.”

“I think I can negotiate that with my company,” the other girl shakes her head.

You joke, “What, you release another two albums if you get to come out about having a girlfriend?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Chaeyoung responds immediately. Her ears pink endearingly, and you wait for her to clarify, “In secret for now, obviously. But… one day, I’ll be out about it. I promise.”

“Don’t make empty promises, okay?” You press a kiss to her bare shoulder and let her go when you hear a knock at the dressing room door. “Do good!”

“Alright, Chaeyoung, it’s about time that we ask you some questions about your upcoming film, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” your costar smiles, and you raise your head from your phone to watch the screen. She’s sitting cross-legged across from some of the most famous idol interviewers in Korea, absolutely poised and natural even in front of the crowd that cheers over the interview.

The woman behind the podium clears her throat. “A huge talking point in Korea right now is your chemistry with your costar, Y/N. How exactly do you pull that off, since you’ve never experienced a relation like that?”

Chaeyoung laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh. Well, um, I don’t have much experience with relationships at all, so--”

“Really? A pretty girl like you must have had a boyfriend or two before.” You despise the way that the interviewer leans in conspiratorially, as if the prying questions weren’t completely scripted. “But you seem a little to pretty to have experienced that, am I right?”

The crowd laughs with her, but Chaeyoung glances behind the scenes, probably to where her own staff sits. “You know, you can tell me if you ever felt… uncomfortable during filming,” the interviewer continues on. “Y/N has been out for years, hasn’t she?”

“Oh, she has…” You’re practically fuming, but you also can’t seem to pry your eyes away from the screen. All of Chaeyoung’s practiced idol-charm has seemed to dissipate into thin air, and she’s practically blending into the wall as she sits there.

The Chaeyoung you know-- no, the Chaeyoung that you’ve come to know, wouldn’t stand to hear something like that. You’ve watched her argue with a scriptwriter, and you’ve watched him get fired because he said something incredibly offensive, even though it wasn’t about you. But here, she sits still and just listens to the interviewer discuss you behind your back, and she says nothing about all the disgustingly backhanded comments.

The thing is, you don’t care about Chaeyoung not being out. You were closeted for enough time yourself, and you know how hard it is, so you’d never wish it on her; but watching her completely let go of all her personal principles just for a stupid interview is just another reminder that you’re letting go of your own. Chaeyoung won’t ever speak up, you realize, because her career comes before anything else. And you can’t stand for that.

“I’m leaving,” you tell the guard standing outside of your door. Only increasing your anger, tears start to burn in your eyes, and you scrape your sleeve across your face as roughly as you can. Chan picks up on one dial, and you say furiously, “Pick me up. It’s over.” In more ways than one.

Chaeyoung shivers at the top of the hill, where she’s supposed to be filming her closing scene with you. She hasn’t seen you for the past week, and after how disastrous her interview was, she’s pretty sure she knows why.

“Where’s Y/N?” she finally asks her makeup artist, giving in to her own curiosity.

Felix shrugs, reaching to mess with the blood on her hairline. “I have no idea, honestly, I haven’t seen her yet. She’s never late, though, you don’t have to worry. You’ll get your scene done.”

“That’s…” Chaeyoung sighs. That’s why she should be worried. “Right.”

“Okay, can we start?” Seulgi shouts. It’s started to rain, but with the excited look on the director’s face, Chaeyoung figures that it suits the scene even better than the gray clouds that had been planned. “Great. Chaeyoung, Y/N!”

Your hair is plastered to your forehead with the rain, and water makes your blouse cling to your curves; with the grim expression on your face, Chaeyoung could easily just mistake you for your character. “Hi,” you mutter, taking a seat on the grass right next to your costar. You say nothing else.

When cued, Chaeyoung takes a deep breath before her line. “Luna. I love you.”

For a second, Chaeyoung thinks you won’t respond, but the rasp to your voice proves her wrong. “No. No, you don’t.”

“I think I’m the one who should be deciding that, don’t you?” The blonde raises her eyebrows, reaching forward hesitantly for your shoulder.

Of course, you dodge it. Blinking the rain out of your eyes, you’re resigned when you ask, “You have your birthday gala tonight, don’t you?”

“Yes, but--” Chaeyoung swallows, lets her hand make contact, then continues, “I’m spending as much time as I can with you, aren’t I with you right now?”

“But you’re going.” It feels like you’re staring right into Chaeyoung’s soul when you speak, as despondent as your voice is. She nods, and you stand, her hand slipping off of your shoulder and into her lap. “Then go. You’re still a princess at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“At the end of the day, yes…”

“You can’t do that. You sneak out onto my ships, get my people to love you and protect you, and then turn right back to your family to stay safe while we die for you. You can’t say you support our cause and then go back on it when it’s inconvenient for you, it doesn’t work like that!” Chaeyoung flinches at how intense you sound; at this point, she barely knows if it’s still acting. She can only hear her own heart in her ears, can only see your chest heaving from how quickly you spoke, and it all feels too real.

“What, do you want me to get found out?” Chaeyoung demands, getting to her feet as well. The rain becomes harsher, angled so that it perfectly blurs her vision of you. “I’ve saved your ass just as many times too, don’t pretend like I’m not a valuable part of your ship!”

“You’re still pretending.” Realizing that it’s not the right line, Chaeyoung opens her mouth to stop you, but your voice chills her into silence when you speak again. “You’ll always pretend, as long as it benefits you, won’t you? You can’t do that, Helen, not if you ‘love me’. Putting a crown on your head doesn’t mean that you’re a princess. Until you realize that, and until you’re willing to embrace it, you don’t love me. and I don’t love you.”

None of it is the script. None of it is the scene that you rehearsed a thousand times together in your trailer, but somehow, it makes Chaeyoung’s heart quaver in her throat so much more than the original lines ever did.

And when you drop your gaze to the ground, turning to walk off into the rain alone, she knows that to you, your entire relationship is already done.

[nctsworld]

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu​’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen​

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period. 

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was. 

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot. 

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.  

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.   

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand. 

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place. 

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.  

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries. 

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.  

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences. 

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss. 

[charlie-minion]

Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.  

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.  

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye). 

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).  

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

 The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.  

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

[thehomothings]

Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.

[greenygreenland]

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (part four)

-part four because I couldn’t fit everything in part three-i went overboard, I’m sorry

-please enjoy I worked a month on getting this out, haha. it is a labour of tears and love.

---->PREVIOUS PART <-----

Summary: You need your memories back. But how will you get them?

Gracefield House

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?” You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die. Die. Die. Die. He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try.  Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together?

“Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. He forced himself to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Don’t struggle.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off the ground. Your leg hit Mama’s arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma stood frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She wrapped you in a tight embrace and you rubbed her back comfortingly. It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

(University name), DAY TWO

Class went by rather quickly today, and maybe that was because you were sure you’d seen similar material before. Each answer came easily along with each mark on your paper like a memory from long ago. You’ve answered harder questions, much more difficult tests that held more weight than a simple grade.

“I was impressed by your extensive knowledge on world history,” said Mr. Baker. He was the world history teacher. Unlike the others, he was young, perhaps in his mid twenties. In the hour you’ve gotten to know him and the class, you’ve come to realise he’s a class favourite. For good reason, too. His jokes were phenomenal, the material entertaining, and the atmosphere, friendly.

It was like having a conversation between friends rather than teacher to student.

“Do you know what school you went to before you came here?” he inquired. You shook your head. “No. I don’t think I went to any school before this actually...but I’m not sure. I wish I knew, sorry Mr. Baker.” He offered a warm smile. “Maybe my jokes will remind you of something. In the mean time, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”

Eventually. You didn’t want to remember ‘eventually’. Living a life of ignorance was difficult as it was, why should you continue it? You adjusted your grip on a notebook and said, “See you tomorrow Mr. Baker.”

“Same to you, Letha.”

The cafeteria wasn’t hard to find. Students crowded in the hallways, pushing and shoving as they stuck close to hurry towards for their meals. You didn’t care much for the food. There wasn’t any way it could measure up to your, or Gramps’s, cooking anyway.

“Letha!”

You spun around as much as you could in the congested hall. Flanna raised a hand above her head and waved. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was looking for you. “Letha, you comin’?” There was no way out of avoiding the red-head. She had too much energy, and an eerily observant eye hidden under her smile.

“Hello to you too, Flanna.” you said, matching her step. Flanna grinned brightly. “Are you excited for lunch? My first day here, I thought it’d taste terrible. You’d be surprised how good it is, but maybe that’s because the school’s expensive.” She let out a snort that was lost to the chatter of the crowd.

The cafe wasn’t all too big. Despite the long tables stretching out across the floor, and the high ceilings and tall windows, it felt small. Crowded. The sheer amount of teens gathered in one area was daunting, scary even. It made your head spin, and your stomach lurch in disgust.

Was this what everyone dealt with every single day? How could they do it? This was madness.

Flanna patted your shoulder and led you towards the lunch line. “You get used to it after a while. Can’t say I have, but it’s not so bad.” She handed you a cup of fruit from a large cooler. You watched as she did the same and instructed the lunch lady on exactly what she wanted.

You copied her. It was all you could do to prevent embarrassing yourself.

Once you found a table, a long sigh left your lips. “That was actually...a bit stressful.” Flanna chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, I get it, you’re shy, aren’t you? I had a friend like that back in ninth grade when I still lived in the countryside. Couldn’t even go in line without help from me.”

“What happened to that friend?”

“Moved away. Lots of people do. They like the city because it’s “full of opportunity”.” Flanna rolled her eyes. “I think it depends on what you want. I’d prefer a quiet life where all I have to do is take care of a farm. You know, sheep, chicken, cows. It’s easy because the only person who’s your boss is you.”

Flanna clearly didn’t favour modern life as much as her peers. She went on about the difficulties of technology and how they were “nothin’ but trouble” for simple folk. You couldn’t say much about that, but you wish you understood.

The rest of the day went by in a flash. It turned out, your last three classes were with Flanna. She didn’t talk as much in class, but she asked you a lot of questions about why you knew so much. Of course, you couldn't remember, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know who you truly were.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The setting sun illuminated the sides of your face as you glared at the frosty grass below your winter boots. You stood outside, wrapped tightly in your thick, fur coat. It was Gramps’s daughter’s before yours, so it smelled like him. The forest. A cosy fireplace. Hot chocolate. It did little to comfort your aching heart, and maybe that was because a part of it was still missing.

Standing in the last rays of sun reminded you of that boy with light hair and kind eyes. It reminded you of his touch that refused to leave your mind. He was scorched there like an emblem on wood.

“So why can’t I remember you?” Your words were lost to the harsh, frosty breezes. “Who are you to me?” He wasn’t family, that much you knew, nor a friend either. He was much more. Much closer to your heart than either of those.

-----

This wasn't a massacre. It was the shambles of a bloody war.

The remnants of limbs and broken bones lay strewn across the throne room, where pools of crimson stained the tile flooring with its iron stench. Part of you wished you hadn’t opened the door, and another said it was your fault for letting everything get this far.

Would you have been able to stop Norman if you ran faster? If you had stopped him earlier?

Your stomach flopped and turned. The smirk painted on Norman’s lips wasn’t right. It wasn’t him. He was satisfied, not with the massacre, but with how perfectly his plan had been executed. It played out like a game of chess. Each pawn he sent out had been eliminated, leaving only the most powerful pieces on the checkered board.

“I’m sorry,” Norman said. “It’s too late (Y/n).”

He wasn’t sorry and he sure didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to you. Or at least, that was what you wanted to believe. Every fibre in your body screamed at you to run at him, slap him to the moon and back, or beat him to a pulp for lying and cheating you all. Yet you couldn’t do it. Not with the way he kept his eyes to the floor.

“I’m so glad you made it back safely,” he added. “It’s a shame you were a little too late.” Your gaze lingered on his for a moment longer before you cast it to Ray and Emma. They stood strong with you, yet you had a feeling they wanted to waver just as much as you.

Emma stared at the sticky crimson under her boot, eyes wide in disbelief. “They’ve...they’ve all been...?”

“Killed.” Norman plainly finished. “They killed each other and they’re all dead now. The Queen, the nobles, the Giran clan. All of them.” Despite the pleasant way he spoke, you had a feeling he didn’t mean it. The Norman you grew up with--no--the Norman you knew wasn’t like this. He was kind. Gentle. Sweet. He cared for everyone and everything, which was why he chose to be shipped out in the first place.

And why he always chose to be the sacrifice.

You heaved in a deep breath. If this were the reality of your situation, you had to accept it. Ignoring Norman for who he was and what he did wouldn’t do a thing.

“I reforged the Promise.” You made your way across the room, eyes straight and head held high. The smug glint in Norman’s eyes vanished.

“Everybody can escape to the human world and no one needs to fight. You don’t have to kill anymore, it’s over.” That was what you wanted to believe with every fibre of your being. But was it really all over? Could you escape to the human world and leave this place after what’s happened?

Norman shook his head, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s too late for that.” he plainly said. ��No, it’s impossible. A monarchy that has lasted thousands of years has collapsed. Governance for the demons is impossible now. So is peace.” He glanced at the lifeless body behind him. “Iverk was the last one, and I killed him myself.”

You stiffened.

“We’ve put a lethal fissure in the demon society. A fissure that can’t be mended. All that’s left to do is,” he threw out a careless hand, “shatter it. All of the demons will die out. There’s just one more factor left. We can’t go back now. We have no choice but to wipe them out.” He straightened and it was like you were staring at a different person. There was no kindness in his eyes, or that light that you’ve relied on to keep you waking up every morning. “Don’t get in the way.”

You clenched a fist. “No.” Your voice came out strong, reassuring. “What is the point in wiping out a whole race just because we can’t see eye-to-eye? There’s hope and I’ve finally grasped it! For thousands of years, there’s been a cycle of slaughter and war that we have to break. I don’t plan on standing back, and I don’t plan on letting you become more of a murderer!”

Norman’s eyes were dark from under his cloak. “(Y/n)...”

You stood your ground. Defying him was the only way you could stay strong, the only way you could convince him. “We’ll find a way together! It’s not going to be easy, but I know we can do it!”

“(Y/n)...!”

“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself again and I’m not letting you do this alone!”

Norman’s tight expression relaxed into an uncomfortably serene smile. “What are you talking about?” he lightly inquired. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m not going anywhere.”

You heaved in a sharp breath because he stopped telling you the whole truth ages ago. He stopped relying on you because he thought he had to do everything alone. “I can’t trust you. You’re a liar! You think you can fool me? I know something’s wrong with you, you’re just trying to hide it! Don’t underestimate the family you grew up with, stupid Norman. We can see through all your lies and tricks!”

You thought back to the day you walked into his office alone.

I know you Norman, don’t forget that.

It had been too long since you’d seen him and thought him dead. Too long since you were able to hold his hands in yours.

And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.  

It was nice to see him again, yet there was something off about him. He hadn’t changed much besides growing as tall as a tree.

I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again...

The only difference was the hesitance in his stance. As if he were trying to hide something very painful in his chest.

...but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.  

Then he left your words open-ended, as if he knew he couldn’t possibly lie to your face like that. He knew you saw through him from the start. It was only a matter of time before he acknowledged it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you slowly inquired. “Because you’re so smart, you chose the reliable path. Because you’re so kind, you shoulder all the burden. I know you Norman, didn’t I tell you? You don’t want to slaughter the demons! And you don’t want to wipe them out either!”

That was the truth that shone in your heart. You wanted to believe in Norman because he always believed in you. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t have allowed you to go the Seven Walls. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t have allowed you to walk without him.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself,” you added. “What are you hiding? What are you so afraid of?” He raised a brow challengingly. “Afraid?” Norman wanted to laugh. “I’m not...”

“The Norman in front of me looks like a scared child.” You said it like it was fact, and judging by the way Norman’s gaze unfocused, you were right. He wasn’t just scared, he was terrified. Of the consequences, of how you would look at him again, of how the blood would never, ever wash off.

But it was okay, right? He was strong. Just a little longer and it would all be over.

You took a step forward. Norman firmly held out a hand. “Don’t come any closer.” His voice was void of any emotion, cold even. “I’ve come this far. I have no intention of turning back now.”

“Well that’s too bad!” you exclaimed. “Because neither do I! I’m not letting you go this time!” You grasped his hands in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you’re strong, yes you’re smart and you’re amazing and all those great things, but you’re stupid too! And arrogant! Can’t you see that you aren’t alone? Don’t be afraid to believe in us! We’re here to share everything. The tough, the burden, the painful things and the scary!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve done that since day one. It’s what we’re here for!” Ray locked gazes with Norman. He wasn’t about to be left out of this, not after Norman’s little stunt back in Grace Field. “Don’t be so reserved either,” he added. “Just spill it!”

You squeezed his hands tighter and stood a little closer. “You don’t need to protect us anymore! We want to walk with you, not behind you!” Answers were simple, but the journey was everlasting and dangerous. You understood what it took to get here even if you weren’t walking in Norman’s shoes. It was difficult. Terrifying. But with all the accomplishments under your belt?

It was time to reunite with him.

“Your family and siblings are your friends.” added Ray. “We don’t want a future where you end up suffering no matter what the result is. And you? What do you want? What do you want to do, Norman?”

He pulled away and the warmth left your hands. “No, it’s no good.” he stated. “You’re already too late. I’m...I’m in a place where I just can’t go back. You can’t walk alongside me--”

“We know.” you interjected. Emma nodded. “About the poison, Mujika and Sonju...”

“And the experiment in the basement.” added Ray. A hopeful smile inched itself onto your lips. “See? We’re not too late. It’s okay to be vulnerable. If you’re the real Norman, then let’s lose our way together. Let’s struggle too, and laugh.” You held out a hand and Emma and Ray joined you.

“Let’s live together.”

Norman didn’t struggle to keep his cool. You re-called the look in his eyes, the same one you saw that night he was told his shipment date. He cried, not just because he chose to get shipped out, but because he was scared. For you. For himself. For his family.

That stifling look of serenity washed off his face. His lips trembled, his shoulders shook, and his eyes watered. You all wrapped each other in a tight embrace. No one deserved to face all the ages of time on their own, no matter what it was, and more than anything, you’d do that for him.

“But...” Norman’s voice trembled. “It’s too late. It's pointless because of the drugs we were forced to take. We don’t have much longer left to live--we can’t live on.” He collapsed to his knees in a heap. “Help me... (Y/n), Emma, Ray... Please...”

That was when all the puzzles finally fit. After laying in wonder for so long with thoughts that kept you awake until the sun rose, you understood. The hesitance in his walk. The way he tried to hide his sluggish step. The way he acted like he was running out of time.

“You’re dying.” The words left your lips before you could even stop them. “It’s...the drugs from Lambda, right?” Norman tried to suppress a sob, but it came out in a way that sounded like he was chocking on his own lies and tears. You took a knee, gently placing a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Norman.”

He couldn’t stand the soft look in your eyes, or the tone in your voice that was like a warm summer breeze. You should have yelled at him. Should have stamped your foot against the ground and growled and slapped him. Yet you knelt in front of him, caressing his dampened cheeks with a touch that said it would all be okay.

Norman wouldn’t look at you--no--he refused to because he was just as you said: a liar. Why were you so kind to him when all he did was lie? He said he’d let you go to the Seven Walls. He said he’d wait for you. He said he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’d live, laugh and do everything to be there with you, for you.

Norman wondered what a murderer like him ever did to deserve you.

-----

The grass crunched under your feet. Towards the brick walls you walked, following the sun as it lowered deeper and deeper towards the ground. You had to keep reaching for it. You had to see it.

In times of trouble, it was your beacon of hope, the last bit of your old life you were sure you could recall. No matter where you were, it was always the first thing you followed. Towards the light. Towards that ray of hope.

You came to a stop at the edge of the school grounds, right where the gates separated you from the outside world bustling with life. The occasional car zoomed through the streets, interrupting the quiet air with its incessant honking and screeching.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, bathing the skies in navy blue and purple.

“Excuse me.”

The voice was light, warm, polite.

“You should really hurry home. It’s not safe out here at this time, especially since we’re students.”

You stuffed your cold hands in your pockets. “I really appreciate your concern,” --you turned to face him-- “but I’m fine. Thank you.”

A boy with light hair and kind eyes met your gaze. Something about him reminded you of something--no--someone. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the boy did. He’d never forget you, no matter how many lifetimes he lived.

“(Y/n)?” He was breathless, frozen in time as you awkwardly knitted your brows together. (Y/n) wasn’t your name. It was Letha, the name Gramps gave to you because you couldn’t remember your own.

Your confused frown made the boy’s eyes well with tears. You stared, watching as he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a pained sob. He was a student here just like you, sporting the traditional sweater vest, white button-up with a tie, and black slacks to match. You’ve never seen him before, yet he looked so...familiar.

Gosh, why couldn’t you remember?

“It’s been over a year and,” he chocked, “I’ve looked everywhere. How could you--how could you do all that for us? You promised we’d live together, but you reforged the Promise and--and...”

The boy's knees wobbled, and out of instinct, you threw out your arms. He fell into you, right at the crook of your neck. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his tears must have been frozen by now. It was cold out here.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was small, fearful almost. It made the boy cry harder. “I don’t know you, but why don’t we go inside? There should be a cafe down there, and they’re open late, so...”

“I’m sorry.”

You paused.

“I’m so sorry.” he echoed. “I wish I was there. I wish--I wish it were me--but instead...”

You patted his back as if you’d known him for a lifetime. Maybe you felt bad and that was why you hadn’t shoved him off, or maybe, it was because having him in your arms felt so right. Familiar in a way you couldn’t put into words.

Your gentle touch made the boy’s sobs relapse. He curled into you, wrapping his arms around your middle like you’d run away. Like you’d disappear. There was something so nostalgic about this hug and the way you both had your arms around each other.

It had happened before.

“The Promise,” the boy muttered, “you made it in exchange for--”

------

Bright, blue sky stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful, and oddly calm. Perhaps a little too calm. After running through a maze of illusions and riddles you struggled to solve, you arrived in this place. Alone. The ground was like water, and with each step you took, it rippled and fanned out.

Someone sat in the middle of this endless sky and water, hovering over it serenely.

“What is it you seek?” the demon inquired. You stepped forward. “I want to reforge the Promise.” The demon’s single eye gazed straight through you, as if you were nothing more than a sheet of paper held to the light. “Sure, (Y/n).”

You pursed your lips together. He was unnervingly calm, child-like even, and you had a feeling it had to do with his ‘reward’ after the promise.

“So what is it you seek?” questioned the demon. “You must give me a reward as well.”

Yes, that was the catch. But what could it be? This demon was a being higher than anyone in the land, a god that once split the world in two. He transcended time, yet remained relatively simple-minded and difficult to read.

“The reward,” the demon fiddled with an orb in his hands, “hmmm... It would have to be something important. Ambition. Desire. What someone longs for. What I would want is something important to the other party. Will you make a wish despite that?”

This was for more than your family and Norman. You had people relying on this one choice, this one Promise.

“Yes, I will make a wish despite that.”

It all meant more than the world to you. You had to liberate your family, the children who were raised like livestock and mass-produced like wild animals. And the mamas who fought to survive--you had to think about them too.

“I wish for all the cattle children to cross over...”

They didn’t choose that life of suffering. None of you did.  

“And after that, for it to be completely impossible to pass between the two worlds.”

The demon continued to stare. You stood strong and proud with the weight of all humans in this Neverland on your shoulders. If he granted your wish, then the tide would turn and you’d be able to save everyone and everything.

“I will grant that wish,” he said. “And the reward I want are your---”

----

“Memories?” The words fell from your lips in a hasty breath. More than anything, you valued finding them. It was the only missing piece in your heart. The last portion of the unsolved mystery.

This boy--whoever he was--talked about you like he knew you. Held you like you meant something. Said that name, (Y/n), like it were his life line. He pulled away with a sniffle, settling his hands on your shoulders with a loving touch.

“You don’t remember me.” He lifted a hand and raised it to place on your cheek. But he couldn’t touch you like he used to. Not when you looked at him like he was far away and out of your reach.

“You don’t remember me.” the boy quietly repeated. He began to pull away, but you grasped his hand in yours. It was warm, soft. “No, I...I’ve seen you before.” There was a pained look on the boy’s face, as if he thought you were lying to him.

“Haven’t we been through this before (Y/n)?”

No, said your mind. Yes, said your heart.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself.”

Your grip tightened around his hand, but not enough to hurt him. “I...I do know you. You’re...” You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. But you did know this boy, and all this time, you yearned to see him.

Remember.

Remember.

Who was he to you?

Who were you to him?

Remember.

Remember!

“I can’t remember your name,” your eyes welled up with cold tears, “but I know I’ve missed you all this time.” You pulled his hand to your cheek as he brought you close. The scent of parchment, aged books, and the woods. Yes, that was nostalgic, so much that it felt right. The final piece, fragmented and broken, began connecting again. It brought the dots and the gaps you tried so hard to fill together.

But something else was still missing.

The boy pulled your head to the crook of his neck and rocked you from side to side in the moonlight. Even the hazy streetlights were drowned out by the stars. You liked to think it was because this part of the city was quiet, isolated, from the rest of the world. And the rest of your worries.

“Norman.” he said.

You looked up at him.

“My name is Norman.”

“And mine is...(Y/n)?”

“Yes,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “I think the day I fell in love with you was when you got excited about something Ray told you. Ray is our family if you’re wondering, and so is Emma, and Gilda, Don...” He told you about people you once knew, and the life you once lived. Some parts he left out, and others he kept.

But you wouldn’t have known. Not when your memory laid in fragments.

“...And so we looked for you. I didn’t think you’d be here, but I’m glad you were.” He laid his chin on the top of your head. “You used to joke that I’d never be taller than you, but now I am.” A sad chuckle left his lips. “I wish things could be different and that you--”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a flash of red hair. Your head began to pound and you nuzzled closer into Norman.

“What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts.”

He ran a hand through your locks, arms folded close around you as he hummed a sweet tune. It was sad, melancholy, and the only one you’d ever known your whole life. “I know that song.” you mumbled. Norman smiled softly. “Mama used to sing it to us all the time. When Ray had nightmares, she put him to sleep with this song.”

The pounding in your head increased and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I did too. I sang...to you.” Norman’s lips parted, but he settled on a nod and smiled instead. “You remember?”

“I think so.” The memory was hazy, as if someone were trying to make you forget for good. But you fought that urge, held on to the image of a room with white sheets and bed lined up side by side. “You were...talking to me...about a...I don’t know...”

“Go on.”

“You were crying late at night...so I...I sang to you.”

Norman kissed the top of your head. When he was in Lambda, locking in that room all alone running through test after test, he held fast to that memory. It kept him from giving up on what he fought for, and kicking the bucket for good.

“I missed you so much.” he wistfully whispered. “You can’t leave me again, or else you’ll break my heart for good.” You looked up to meet his watery eyes. “Why would I leave?” Norman shook his head. “It was in the Promise, wasn’t it? You can’t break it.”

The pounding began to fade. You tiredly smiled, but it was warm and thankful and happy. “That won’t stop me, Norman. I don’t think I could live without you.” He warmly chuckled, intertwining his hands with yours. “Me too.”

And it was then that you began to feel a little more complete, a little more you from then. You were sure you wouldn’t have to dream another little dream of your wodeerful Norman any longer, for he would be right by your side, where you both belonged.

You released his hands and cupped his cheek. It was a natural act you didn’t even have to think twice about. When you were you, you had done this more than a thousand times. Your lips connected in a sweet kiss. He tasted like coffee and tea rolled into one, and you had a feeling it was because he couldn’t choose which was better.

“I love you.” you said. He warmly smiled, but underneath, it was almost sly. “I love you too. Why don’t we do some catching up?”

TIP JAR!! <- (Support me on Ko-fi please!)

DON'T FORGET TO LIKE AND REBLOG, AS IT HELPS ME OUT AS A CREATOR A LOT!

Thank you to those who stayed this long, I love you all SOOOOO MUCH!

[anotheranimestan]

Heyooo I legit just found u bc of the bakugo series, and then I went on a spree reading your account- ugh I’m in love!!! Do you think you could tag me when part 3 comes out?

Ahhh! Thank you so much! ❤️ You guys have no idea how much a few words of encouragement means to writers 😭.

No need to tag tho because here it is!!!!! 😃

Sorry it took so long. I wanted to write it as best as I could! I don’t want disappoint anyone who’s been enjoying so far. ☺️

~~

All Bark No Bite (pt. 3)

(Final part)

Bakugo angst + ~sexual tensionnn~

Please, children avert your eyes. Things get a LITTLE inappropriate here 😳

Read part 1 and part 2

wc: 2.4k

He’s an asshole...but he’s a HOT asshole 🤤

You’d never seen his room before. It was much different than you’d imagined. You’d expected burn marks all over the walls or blown up debris of things scattered about. Maybe a bunch of mirrors so he could look at his self-confident, conceited ass all night. But actually it was kinda of nice. Pretty neat. He had some posters hung up and some books laying around. Black sheets and blankets. And it smelled oddly sweet in here, sort of pleasant believe it or not.

You’re so used to him yelling and exploding so it was weird seeing him so relaxed, in his natural habitat. Doing normal things. Like eating a snack, tapping his pencil in concentration, fidgeting with his hair. He even spun around in his rolling chair a few times mindlessly. He was acting sort of...cute? It was unnerving being attracted to him like this.

But as soon as he noticed you watching him it was all over. You were making him self conscious. He didn’t even realize he’d let his guard down like that.

“That makes absolutely no sense, dumbass.” His voice was bored and over it.

“What are you talking about!? I’ve explained it three times!” You retorted indignantly.

“Exactly. I thought you were smarter than this...” He jabbed before turning around and flipping his notebook shut.

You’d spent twenty minutes attempting to teach him what he’d missed in class earlier today but he was insufferable. Easily the worst student on the planet. Every time you explained something he’d tell you how to teach it better. Who does that!?

“Whatever moron. I didn’t come up here to try and teach your pea brain. I—“ The words were harder to say than you’d expected. Painful actually. They really didn’t want to come out. “I just wanted to say sorry for getting you—“

He whipped a pencil and it hit you directly in the forehead.

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You hissed, rubbing the sore spot. How’d he get so much damn power behind that thing?

“Don’t apologize. It’s weird.”

“What!?” You threw the pencil back but only managed to hit his shoulder.

“Anyways...” He ignored you, completely unfazed by your assault.

“You’re easily the most—“

“Anyways...” You swore if he cut you off one more time you were going to smack the shit out of him. “Aizawa thinks you’ve lost your mind.”

The unexpected information took you aback.

“He saw you try and get yourself blown up in class yesterday... No sane person is stupid enough to pull a move like you did.”

Ah yes... he meant the time you wrapped the man’s hand around your neck, tauntingly, in front of like 20 classmates and two teachers. You’d been trying to avoid asking yourself the question of why you did that. You claimed it was the best way to shut him up....but there were other ways to do that. More reasonable ones. You wouldn’t admit you’d daydreamed of doing it before and subconsciously took the opportunity. Red embarrassment flashed through your body again. God knows what they were all thinking when they witnessed that. You desperately wished people would stop reminding you.

Suddenly the need to defend yourself bubbled up. “I—I only did that because I knew you wouldn’t do anything.”

He scoffed. But didn’t deny it. “If you’re going to try something stupid. At least do it right.” He chastised.

Your body froze as he stood up and walked over, crouching down directly in front of you.

“If I wanted to choke you. I’d do it like this.”

He wrapped his hand around your neck. Demonstrating the best way to actually cut off someone’s air flow. But he did it so gently you barely even heard his explanation. You were just flashing back to last night. Instantly your entire body lit on fire. Replaying this scene in your head was strong enough. But reenacting had you completely out of sorts. Kissing him again but this time going full out. You wanted to bite him, just to hear him make that deep moan into your mouth again. Just imagining it was making you flutter. Aching to have him pressed up against you like that, relieving some of this pressure that was building up in your body. You felt yourself unraveling. About to pounce.

But he interjected with something that stunned you once again. “The way you did it would be better for...other forms of choking.”

Dear god. Surely he knew what he was doing to you. If he kept this up any longer your heart or your lungs were definitely going to give out.

But you mustered up your last two brain cells that weren’t absolutely losing their shit over him and carried on with your normal banter.

“Yea yea, I get it. You can stop now.”

He didn’t budge. His hand still snug around your throat. You obviously didn’t mind it there but it was incapacitating your brain function.

You gently pushed it away and he didn’t resist. But where he put it next was no better.

He traced the side of your cheek and along the outline of your lips. Just staring at them, eyes lost like he was thinking deeply about something. He wasn’t giving you a moment of a break. No room to breathe.

Your nerves were through the roof, your heart was beating so loud you could hear it in your ears. Desperately you tried to change the topic. “So is this your attempt at being nice? Advice on how to murder someone?” It’s amazing how your mouth just spewed shit out even though your brain was actually dead.

“Sure.” Now he was tugging at your bottom lip. Completely unbothered by you baiting him.

“Ah. A nice Bakugo? I must be having a dream. I guess now that you’ve lost to me your whole tough guy persona has been killed.”

That snapped him out of it. But now he was looking just as intensely, directly into your eyes.

“Don’t push it.”

“Or what?” Faking composure was coming so easily much to your relief.

“Do you want to find out?” He growled.

“You’re not scary.” You said rolling your eyes as hard as possible.

Something snapped in him. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Within a moment he had you on your back. Your body didn’t even have time to process. Even if it did, would you have stopped him? He trapped both your wrists on either side of your head and your feet under his ankles. His arms looked glorious as he held up is body weight.

“How about now?” His voice was deep and savory.

There he went. Invading your mind again. His scent. That lust-filled look in his eyes. The way he was thoroughly enjoying being on top of you. The adrenaline was coiling through your body. He had you right where he wanted you. He could do anything he wanted to you. But that “annoying little mouth of yours” wasn’t done quite yet.

“Whatever. You always do this. But you won’t actually try anything.”

“You think I wouldn’t hurt you at all? I literally want to kill you sometimes.” He had a smug little grin on his face. But his eyes couldn’t pull themselves from your lips. After experiencing them once he could barely stop thinking about them.

“You’re telling me? I fucking hate you.” You lied.

It made his smirk form into that wicked, shit-eating grin he always wore. The one that gets deep under your skin and makes you want to punch him in the throat and yank him onto you at the same time.

“Kissing someone is a weird way to tell them you hate them.” He was really cutting into you now.

You hissed. “Hey. You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.” He raised an annoying little eyebrow.

Your brain wanted to choke him (the murder kind) but your body was screaming something completely different. The emotions swirling around in your chest was so overwhelming. Finally you burst.

You trapped one of his arms and corresponding leg and threw your weight to roll on top of him. One of your favorite moves from self-defense class that you knew would come in handy. Now you straddled him and using every ounce of your weight tried to pin his wrists down.

You expected him to fight you like the vicious little monster he is. But instead when you looked down he was just staring back at you. You were stunned at how good he looked at this angle. Did he have any bad angles?

“Finally. You made a move.” He said pretending to sound impressed. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Yea well...” You scoffed proudly. “you think you’re so fucking tough. Now looo—“

The words flew out of your mouth and you were tumbling again. This time he just grabbed your waist and tugged you with brute force. No technique needed. He easily overpowered you.

“Yea, that wasn’t going to work out. It was a cute try though, Little Bite.”

He laid directly on top of you now. Your legs spread as he rested his hips between them. His full weight pressed into you making it flutter. Your arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his neck and rested on his back.

The tension in the air made it difficult to breathe. But you were fully unconcerned with getting oxygen right now.

Nose to nose now he said “We’ll just count this as my rematch. Clearly I won.”

“You suck at flirting.”

Flirting? Where’d that come from?

“Seems like it’s working pretty good to me.”

That smug fucking face again.

“You’re such an ass.”

He bit his lip.

“Fuck...I love when you insult me like that.”

A beat passed and that was all it took. You smashed his lips onto yours. Wrapping your legs around him and squeezing. Too close wasn’t close enough.

He kissed you like he wanted you bad. Like you were his favorite meal and he was absolutely famished. It was so intense and passionate that neither of you could catch any air. Every insult, all the bickering, every jab had built up to this moment and was fueling it like gas to a forest fire.

His warmth was overtaking you. His body was so heavy, crushing you just liked you’d been daydreaming about all this time.

Your mind shut down all functions except desperately trying to use all five senses to their max capacity and commit every bit of him to memory.

He felt you pawing at the edge of his shirt and sat up. He peeled it off slowly. Letting your eyes adjust to every inch of him.

Your hands were instantly stroking every one of his muscles starting at his shoulders and trailing down his soft skin slowly...slowly to the edge of his jeans. Your index finger sat teasingly on the front button as you admired his perfectly toned body.

But before you even had time to think about what you wanted to do next he took your wrist and secured it down above your head again.

He dipped down and went straight for your neck.

Greeting it with a warm wet kiss from his tongue, his lips wrapped around your skin and sucked gently. You felt the blood pooled with pleasure rushing to the area. His other hand started exploring your body. Finally he was getting to put his hands on you the way he really wanted all along.

After you started tugging on his hair, desperately trying to avoid any scandalous hickeys he rolled you around again.

Letting you on top to straddle his hips. Giving you only a little bit of freedom though, as he locked one arm around your waist and the other started caressing your thighs slowly working his way north.

After squeezing your ass until his heart was content he clamped down both hands on your hips. You couldn’t bare it anymore. Your hips started gently grinding against him and you bit down on his neck all at once. You felt the angle of his pelvis rubbing into you creating little rumbles of pleasure.

“Fuck y/n..” he muttered under his breath.

You both were getting more and more bothered and aroused. His hands never stopped grabbing and tugging at you. His moans growing more fervent as he whispered into your ear.

He was just toying with the idea of peeling off your shirt when...

“THIS IS THE POLICE! COME OUT!”

Your soul practically rose out of your body as a loud bang almost broke the door down. Bakugo’s hand slapped over your mouth. You’d screamed without realizing it.

Kaminari’s laugh sounded through the door. “Oh my god Bakugo! You scream like a girl!”

Mina shrieked. “No, stupid! Y/n are you in there!?”

Your life was ending.

“Get the fuck out of here before I come out there and break your skulls!” Bakugo barked at them.

They didn’t say anything but you heard their quick footsteps as they ran down the hall still shrieking like banshees.

“Oh god..” you groaned as you tried to roll away from him, using his bare chest to push off.

But he wouldn’t let you go. “Where are you going?”

“Aren’t you going to go hunt them down and threaten them or something.” Typical Bakugo behavior.

“No, I’m busy.”

You had to stop your mouth from falling open.

“They’re probably going to tell everyone.” You prodded. Expecting his temper any second now. Like he was a bomb about to go off. You pulled away again in preparation, sitting fully upright now.

“I’ll deal with them tomorrow. I’m dealing with you tonight. Now get back over here before I get mad.”

You shrieked as he muscled you back into his arms. He bent you back around him as snugly as he could. Moving your chin to the side, he kissed your neck, sweeter this time. Instinctively your hands ran through his hair. Fuck the rest of them. You could get lost in this hot head all night. And you were as he started gently sucking on your soft spots again.

But he pulled away abruptly. Like he’d just realized something. “How are you gonna become a pro hero if a moron like Denki can scare you like that?”

You smacked the back of your idiot’s head lightly. “Don’t fucking ruin it.” You groaned.

“Fine.” He grinned as he went in for the kiss that started the rest your next piping hot and sticky couple of hours together.

~💥💥

TADAAA! What did you guys think?? What was your favorite part overall?

I’d love hearing your thoughts and opinions 😃 makes me a better writer

Also special shout-out to @jennammaee ! Pt. 2 of this series has been my most successful post yet, so thanks for encouraging me to write it!!

Tags: @sweetsailor000 @yumxmii @fullsundear @frosted-flakes @marloalmore @aprilbouz01 @deneuves @softestparker @davidbowiehotashell-blog @mocha-focha @piii-chan @v0dkadaddy @xxjosiexx

[mageofseven]

Uhm.. I really love the pregnant MC kind of series.. and uhm May I request the undateables version when the baby is born?

sorry, I'm nervous. am still a shy blob (///▽///)

Thank you both! And no need to be shy, First Nonnie~ *pets the cute, shy blob* 🥰

Oh! And just so you know, Imma split this up into two parts for space reasons, this part containing Diavolo and Barbatos' sections.

Unlike when I wrote for the Brothers' sections, I am only writing happy endings for the Undateables. However, the pregnancy and birth still won't be easy for MC so keep that in mind.

Brothers | Solomon & Simeon

~

Diavolo:

The first trimester was relatively easy for MC, simply going through the standard pregnancy issues, like morning sickness.

However, even during this first trimester, the couple was given a little hint of what was to come.

MC quickly developed a belly. Actually, the woman already had a small pouch formed by the time the royal physician was called and told the prince that his Sweetheart was pregnant.

Her growth stayed at this strange, quick pace.

By the end of MC's third month, the woman looked as if she was finishing her sixth.

This was alarming to the couple, who deferred to the royal physician about this.

The two were so sure that MC must be having multiples, but the physcian insisted that there was only baby and that it's development was normal for a child within the royal family and would still be born after the full nine months.

Diavolo didn't know this. The man knew that he himself was a big baby when he was born, but never knew it got this bad. He didn't have anyone to ask either. He never met his mother and his father spoke very little about her in general, let alone about when she was pregnant with him.

The man was anxious, to say the least. Would his queen be able to carry his child to full term? It seemed as if it would be too much for her.

Still, MC insisted she could handle it and Barbatos reminded him that he is prepared to navigate the woman through this tough time.

Diavolo stuffed his emotions down in favor of trusting his friend. Barbatos was actively using his future vision to help them and the butler confirmed that there is a possibility to make it through this

And so he gave free reign to Barbatos to whatever he needed to do.

The butler used the information from his vision to set up a schedule for the woman to follow and a diet plan to keep her as healthy as possible and avoid the common mistakes made in the timelines that they need to avoid.

At first, it was doable for the woman. MC wasn't a fan of having each day planned out for her, but understood it was important and listened to Barbatos.

As the pregnancy progressed though and she got bigger, it was so much harder to keep her moving.

By her sixth month, the woman's body was in a lot of pain from the weight of her belly. MC looked overdue with twins, but again, only one child.

It wasn't just the baby giving her big belly its size however. The baby was larger than usual of course, but there was also a concentrated amount of magical energy building up in her womb too. The royal physician insisted that it was also normal for a bloodline as strong as Lord Diavolo's.

MC was so exhausted from all of the excess weight and just wanted to rest in bed, but Barb always came and forced her feet so she could do her walking.

Being so achy, heavy, and emotional as she was, the woman broke down crying one day, refusing to leave her bed.

The butler had to pull the prince from his work so Diavolo could comfort the sobbing woman. Afterwards, the two walked around the garden together.

Mid way through that sixth month, a new problem occured.

The couple was preparing to have dinner at House of Lamentation with the brothers, something MC had been looking forward to all week.

The woman was checking her hair in the mirror when suddenly she saw stars in her vision and passed out. Luckily, Diavolo was already approaching her to ask his Queen if she was ready and was able to catch her, stopping her from collapsing head-first onto the dresser.

The prince quickly carried her over to the bed and had Barbatos call for the physcian.

Apparently the issue was with her body's rapid collection of dark spiritual energy. Her body has been absorbing this energy at a very rapid rate during this pregnancy because of the magical strength of the baby, but the speed of the absorption is far too quick for her human body to handle. This is what caused MC to suddenly pass out.

The physcian warned that this would probably happen more till the end of the pregnancy and that there was really no option that was safe for both mother and child to help the situation.

This is when Diavolo's anxiety got so bad that he simply defaulted into his composed expression, locking all of his feelings within him.

The demon was naturally such an expressive man, but when under great stress, he often locked down his emotions as a kind of defense mechanism.

MC hated this and always has. The woman knew it usually wasn't a conscious thing on his part, not something he purposely did, but it still hurt. It always felt as if he was hiding himself from her and it killed her inside.

The prince tried to fight it, tried to smile more for his Queen because he knew he was only bringing the woman down when she was already struggling to remain strong, but it was difficult for him.

He was afraid. He was afraid of losing her and their child. He was afraid that despite all of their hard work and all MC is suffering for that...it might all be for not

And instead of showing this fear, it was simply a lot easier to shut down all emotional expression.

There were some moments however where he could bring himself to smile genuinely

Like the first time he felt his child kick.

He and MC were having tea out in the garden. The woman was feeling extra anxious that day and asked her boyfriend if the two of them could spend sometime outside that day, which of course the prince agreed to.

The man was watching his girlfriend relax and enjoy the nice breeze, which calmed his own anxiety to see her find a bit of peace

Then he saw eyes go wide and hand flew to her massive belly.

"D-Dia!"

The prince jumped from his seat and rushed to her side. Still hiding his emotions within himself, the only hint of his panic was the speed in which he did this.

"What is it? What happened?"

MC started crying a bit and the man's heart sank. Before he could ask anything else however, his girlfriend took his hand and placed it on the area of her belly that her own hand was a moment before.

That's when he felt it. A kick. His child was kicking. This was the first interaction the man was having with his child and it caused the soon-to-be dad to tear up too.

"This--our child is greeting us." The prince smiled as he looked up at his Queen, who nodded and continued to cry her own happy tears.

Diavolo spent the next few minutes just gushing over their child's movements. He'd rub and kiss MC's belly as he talked to the baby within, greeting them back and telling them just how incredibly loved they are and how their mama and daddy can't wait to meet them.

Barbatos, who had been on standby near the couple in case they needed assistance, smiled at the scene before him.

The pregnancy didn't get any easier for the woman, but both her and her boyfriend were able to endure it more here on out because now they had a reminder of what it was they were fighting for, who they were fighting for

And so they were happy whenever their child would kick and remind their parents of this.

During the last the two months of the pregnancy, the woman had more fainting spells, but since she always had Diavolo or Barbatos with her, MC was always caught before she hit the ground.

What was more concerning was the bone breaking.

During MC's last month, the kicks that the couple got so excited for got a little too...rough.

It only happened twice, but twice was more than enough to scare the couple.

The baby was already positioned upside down and ready for the birth, meaning that its legs were now positioned upwards

So when they kicked, they would sometimes hit their mama's ribs

And twice it caused the bottom of her rib to fracture.

The woman was healed up via a spell each time, but it still wasn't a pleasant experience.

Still, this was just a taste of the pain that MC would face when she gave birth.

The Birth:

Out of all of the births I've written for MC in past, this one was worse for her just based on her child's size. Though a lot of her belly's growth was due to the concentrated magical energy that built up within her, there was also no doubt that this baby was much bigger than any human baby.

It started when MC was doing the walking scheduled by Barbatos for her. Diavolo was home, but in a meeting with the Devildom's Elder Council, basically a group of powerful aristocratic demons whose interests the prince had to balance delicately to keep peace in his kingdom. Which is why it was Barbatos with her, holding onto the pregnant woman as she walked and held her up as she suddenly stopped and bent forward in pain, hugging her stomach. The butler quickly brought the human to her room and called for the physcian, not leaving MC's side. The woman cried and begged for her boyfriend, but the the man only shook his head. Though Barbatos stayed calm and composed, he truly did feel bad for MC. He could not inform his lord about the sudden turn in events because of the importance of the Elder Council. If Diavolo left the meeting, it would just cause a lot of issues for him later on, some that he might not be able to mend. The butler told the woman that the meeting should end in about three more hours and promised that the prince would be there for their child's birth.

The meeting went in over time and lasted about four hours. Unable and even unwilling to leave MC alone, Barbatos sent a Little D to send word to Diavolo the very moment he left the council room. Upon hearing the news, the prince rushed to the other side of the castle and practically slammed the door open. Once at her side, he grabbed her hand apologized profusely for his absence. Though he understood why, the man was still angry with his butler for keeping this from him and Barbatos knew it, but did not comment on it.

The labor was a long one, lasting a little over thirty-five hours. It wasn't as bad as that makes it sound though. Diavolo had talked with the royal physician ahead of time and had a variety of potions and creams ready for her, all working together to essentially give the same effect as an epidural. The physcian had MC take them now that the prince was there to give him permission and they eased most of the pain she felt within ten minutes. Still, it did nothing to help the unbearable pressure she felt within her. With the pain managed though, the woman wasn't forced to be confined to their bed; she could also sit on the couch in their room or walk around a bit if her leg muscles insisted that she should move, which was good for her since the physcian said walking could help progress the labor.

When things progressed enough for the woman to push, she was brought back to the bed. Diavolo more wiped the sweat from her forehead and gave her a kiss, telling his Queen how well she was doing and that he won't leave her side. The woman pushed for hours and when the baby started crowing, she could still feel the burn from it despite the potions given to her. After a certain point, the woman stopped making progress. The physcian checked her and it seemed the baby was stuck. It's size was too big and the baby was stuck on her hip bone. He told the prince that no progress could be made unless he fractured the bone just enough to let the baby through.

The man's heart sank and he looked to his girlfriend, who was starting to feel the pain of the labor once more now that the potions were starting to wear off. He apologized to his Queen, but promised that he'd have the doctor give her more of the potions before he allows it to be done to her and that he'll make sure that she's healed up afterwards.

Suddenly, the woman shrieked in pain. During just that small amount of time that the prince took to make the decision and apologize, the baby had decided to break it for them in order to continue their way. The problem was solved, but in a very painful way. Even so, it took another half hour to for MC to bring her baby into the world.

It was a boy, with his father's eyes, skin tone, wings, and horns; he even had a similar golden pattern on his arms just like Diavolo did in his demon form. The boy also had MC's hair though. The doctor handed the baby to Diavolo and the man stared down at his son, tears of joy filling his eyes. He looked over to MC, who was also crying as she watched her boyfriend hold their son.

The prince leaned in a kissed the human, telling her how amazing she did and how proud of her that he is before thanking her for all that she did in order to bring their son into the world and make them parents.

The two name their son Ashur and he is spoiled with all the love he could ever need from day one.

Barbatos:

The first few months of MC's pregnancy was rather peaceful.

Barbatos went back and forth from his duties at the castle to taking care of his girlfriend, who still wished to live at House of Lamentation at this time.

The butler had no issue with this; he simply wanted his Love to remain as happy and comfortable as possible during this pregnancy, though he was prepared to move her into the castle at any point if issues arose and made it necessary, something Barb had already discussed with Lord Diavolo of course.

Which was good, considering what transpired during MC's fourth month.

Barbatos was tending to his duties at the castle when he received a call from Lucifer. Apparently his Dear was in the library getting help from Satan with her homework when suddenly the woman started shrieking and sobbing uncontrollably.

When Lucifer himself heard and rushed in, he found MC curled up in a ball and her eyes glowing green. The two men tried to calm her and ask what was wrong, but it was as if the human could not see or hear them.

Once the strange episode was over, MC continued to sob and beg for her boyfriend

Which of course resulted in the butler dropping everything in order to rush to his girlfriend's side.

When he arrived at House of Lamentation, he found his Love in the living room with Beel, curled up and hiding in the big demon's embrace.

Upon his entrance, the redhead wordless tapped the human's shoulder, causing her to raise her head and see her boyfriend entering the room.

Beel let go of the woman and nodded in greeting to the butler before stepping out to give the two time to talk.

Taking the other demon's seat, Barb sat down next to MC. His Love clung to him, burying her face in his chest.

The man didn't say a word, just held the human close and waited till she was ready to speak.

"Barbie...I saw myself die...I saw our baby die."

Barbatos frowned. He suspected as much when he heard that her eyes glowed green, the same color as his own eyes.

The woman talked about seeing herself die in childbirth, about seeing their daughter die before even entering the world, and her boyfriend's only response was to tighten the embrace and stroke her hair.

This...the man had been studying this timeline in depth since he discovered MC was pregnant. However, this was not something he that he foresaw.

If he was correct in his assumption, the only way MC would be able to see such a vision was if she somehow gained access to such power and since that was not a power of her own, the man knew what the only explanation could be; their daughter had inherited his power and has projected such a vision onto her mother.

How and why, the butler wasn't sure, but what concerned him the most was that his review of the timeline originally never included his daughter inheriting his gift and torturing her mother with with its visions.

Something must have changed, something small and easily overlooked, causing another tinier branch of time to split from the already small one they were on originally.

Now Barbatos was...well, not blind per se, but he had certainly lost his previous advantage. Months of studying every little detail of the previous timeline was now rendered useless and now he needed to start from scratch to make sure he knows what to expect and keep MC safe during this harsh pregnancy.

The demon originally wanted to keep the truth of the dangers this pregnancy poses to himself; he never wanted MC to worry, but since their daughter seemed to have different plans, the butler must be flexible.

"I'm sorry, my Dear. I should have foresaw this issue, but I failed to do so for you."

The man explained what he had been hiding from her. He told her what he foresaw the day he found out she was pregnant and admitted he knew before she even took the test.

He explained that because he knew from multiple timelines that she'd choose to risk her life for the sake of their child and he didn't want her to worry, especially since he was so sure he could use his gift to keep her safe, he had decided to keep all of it to himself.

However, he also explained that the vision she saw was likely from one of the obsolete timelines (though he will thoroughly check through their current one to make sure) and that it was their daughter who showed her it.

Barbatos knew if it happened once then it would likely happen again and did not want his Dear to see such an awful sight again.

This is was why he requested for her to move into the castle with him; by doing so, he could use his own power to disrupt their daughter's to end such an episode when it occurs.

At first, MC fought the idea. She said House of Lamentation was her home and the brothers were her family; she simply did not want to leave them.

Barbatos apologized for the trouble, but told her this would be for the best and promised that she could move back in with the brothers after their daughter's birth if she so chooses and if Lucifer was okay with it.

The woman was hesitant, but agreed after hearing this

And so MC moved into the castle with him that day. Once again, the butler already had everything prepared so it was as simply as packing up her things and using magic to teleport them to the castle so the two could walk there comfortably.

Barbatos had a different room for them both to sleep in as opposed to his own room. The man had worried that his bedroom would be a bit...unsettling for his Dear and did not want her to think about the first time she saw his room, back in her first year at RAD when she used it to go back in time and had technically died from such a decision.

The man wanted to avoid anything that could bring bad thoughts to his sweet human's head and ultimately keep her spirits up.

The first day, MC felt a bit out of place in the castle, but when the night came and she got to sleep in her boyfriend's arms, she found a sense a peace that she did not often get to feel outside of his embrace and so she slept comfortably.

Her days were filled with being by Barbatos' side as he worked. He wanted her close in case an episode should occur and he was correct that more were to come.

Each time one would occur, the demon would carefully lead his distraught girlfriend to a seat, slip off his gloves, and place one hand on her bare belly and one on her forehead, pushing his own magick into her to disrupt their daughter's magick flow.

When the vision was brought to a halt, the woman's eyes stopped glowing and she fell forward, her face falling onto his shoulder.

It always went like this, Barb dropping everything to end it for her and then holding the human close for as long as she needed.

Outside of these episodes, the woman would help her boyfriend as he worked. Though it wasn't necessary, Barb acknowledged that MC needed to fill her time in some way and enjoyed helping him.

However, he still restricted his Dear with what she could help with. If it require heavy lifting, chemicals, or magick, he would have her step back and let him handle it. Though disappointed, MC would do as she was told.

Months went by and things with her pregnancy were manageable.

The brothers were a constant presence within the castles, always checking up on the human and wanting to spend time with her. The butler did not mind this and knew that this was good for his Love's spirits.

Still, he was always displeased when Mammon stopped by because he knew he had to balance his work, taking care of MC, and keeping an eye on the second brother to make sure he didn't try to steal anything. Again.

It was half way through her sixth month when a new problem arose.

The butler had left the room for just a moment to deal with some work while MC chatted with the Avatar of Greed, only to be called back by the other man.

"Shit! Barbatos!"

The butler quicken his steps and turned back towards the room

And found MC on the floor of the parlor, green glow of her eyes flickering on and off as she seizured on the floor.

Barbatos sprung into action. He did not understand what brought this on so suddenly, but handled the situation as best as he could for now.

He had the other demon stay back as he turned MC onto her side and pushed the funiture away from his Dear so she didn't hurt herself during this. He took off his jacket and folded it up before placing it behind her head. He took out his phone to time it, just in case.

When it finished, his Love looked up at him and asked what had happened. Her boyfriend finally let himself release the breath he had been holding.

"You're fine, my Dear. You're laying down in the parlor right now. Please just relax for a bit."

Barbatos had requested for the Brother to return home for the day before calling in a doctor for MC.

That's how the couple discovered the new issue; MC wasn't handling the new power well. The foreign magic was like a shock to her system. It could handle the magick in certain doses, but too much had lead to this seizure.

The doctor said she should able to tolerate it on a physical level when their daughters activates it, but MC likely won't survive if Barb keep forcing his magick on her or at least cause her health to take a permanent nosedive.

Each time a human has a seizure, it becomes so much easier for their body to it again. If this keeps up, it will become a health problem for her even after the pregnancy.

Basically, the couple was stuck with the choice of whether MC's physical health or mental health was more important.

The butler kept composed at this news, but in reality...he felt like he was failing her. It was his responsibility to take care of her, but he felt as if things were slipping out of his control.

Still, he did what had to be done. From then on, he never interfered when his Love had one of her episodes. When their daughter forced a horrible vision onto MC, all the man could do is bring her to a seat and hold onto his girlfriend as her mind was being tortured by vivid experiences.

They never took long, about ten or fifteen minutes each time, but MC was always left shaky and emotionally fragile. Barbatos made sure to never be the first to break the embrace, even if he had a long list of work he needed to get done.

The rest of the pregnancy was very difficult for the woman. Barb and the Brothers did what they could for her, but it was obvious that her spirits were low from then on.

The Birth:

The stress that the visions put on the woman caused her to go into labor early. Luckily, not dangerously early, just about a week and a half so.

MC was having tea with Lord Diavolo, something the prince purposefully set time aside for each week. He knew how difficult of a time this was for the human and his friend and wanted to play his part to ease their nerves a bit. Barbatos was able to leave his Dear's side without much anxiety and MC could chat with him as she enjoys some tea. Tea time with Diavolo had become something the woman looked forward to each week. The prince's cheerful attitude really did a lot to lift her fragile spirits.

It was during such a tea time when MC started feeling some minor contractions. They were small and far apart at first so the woman simply chose to ignore them at first. It was still a bit early so she really didn't think the pains were really the start of labor. If anything, she simply thought they were more so Braxton Hicks contractions, basically small practices ones that women can feel towards the end of their pregnancy. They don't lead to labor; they're simply uncomfortable. Thinking this was the reason for her pain, the woman said nothing and continued to chat with the prince. However, the pain slowly built up and she found herself wincing mid-sentence.

"Are you alright?" Lord Diavolo watched the woman closely.

"Oh yes, sorry." MC smiled anxiously at him before looking down to her belly and giving it a gently rub. "I've been feeling a bit of pain, but I'm sure it's nothing."

The prince rose from his seat.

"Then I'll go retrieve Barbatos for you--"

"No, please sit." The woman insisted. "It's nothing. It's too early for it to be a real issue and besides...I don't want Barb to worry. He's so good at hiding it, but I know he's been stressed out these last couple months. He needs this. He needs some time to himself where he doesn't feel as if he needs to hover around me, even if he's still working."

The prince watched the woman for a moment before lowering himself back into his chair.

"Alright. Please let me know if it gets any worse for you."

MC nodded and the two continued talking, though now with the man being extra observant with her.

A couple minutes later, Barbatos had rushed in.

"Barb? Is something--"

He was at her side in an instant.

"My Dear, you really shouldn't keep such a thing from me for my sake."

The woman stared at her boyfriend, confused. He explained how he had paused his work to look into his vision (he was feeling anxious about leaving her side, but of course, never mentioned this) and saw that this was going on, but discovered that her hypothesis was incorrect; this was in fact the very beginning of labor for her. Its bareable at the moment, but as he has already seen, this will change very soon.

"I already called the doctor so please follow me so you can go lay down."

MC stared at him eyes wide.

"I...is she going to be okay?" The woman asked, eyes tearing up a bit. "Barb, it's--"

"My Dear, it's alright." He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Our daughter will be fine. Please don't worry."

Suddenly, a new pain hit her and her boyfriend was right that they were getting worse.

"Gaaaah...Barb..."

"Shh. Its alright." The butler waited for the pain to settle before helping her out of her chair and turning to Diavolo. "I'm sorry, my lord. Please excuse us."

"Of course." The prince smiled at the two before adding. "You'll be fine, MC. Just do your best and trust in my friend, yes?"

The couple thanked the prince before retreating.

Thanks to Barbatos catching things as soon as he did and calling the doctor when he did, things went smoothly. It was still a painful experience for his girlfriend, but the demon stayed by her side the whole time and never let go of her hand.

A few hours later, the couple was graced with their daughter's cries as she entered the world. Once the baby was cleaned up and wrapped in a blanket, MC brought their child into her arms, hold her close. Barbatos watched the scene and started tearing up. It was over. His Dear's suffering was over and now his daughter was here in her arms. It was...all worth it.

MC stayed in the castle for a few more days to recover before moving back into House of Lamentation with the Brothers, taking their daughter with her. It was for the best. After all, Barbatos had promised her such when she first moved into the castle that she could move back after the birth.

Besides, MC can't stay by his side every second of the day like she did during the pregnancy. It simply wasn't fair nor healthy to expect that of her so she'd just be on her own with their child in the castle and that would be a very lonely way for her to live. MC living in House of Lamentation, surrounded by those she saw as her family while receiving their help and support...that was what she deserved; it made her happy.

Still, the man was constantly visiting her and their daughter. Just because they weren't a traditional family who lived together didn't mean he loved his girls any less or that he'd give them any less than his best. He'd even stay the night once a week and help with the baby during the night, even though he had to wake up early to return to the castle the next morning.

Barbatos did not mind it though; he handled it all in stride and found this new life to be much more fulfilling. Being a father was never something that the man gave any thought to in the past. While many beings aimed to continue their lineage, Barbatos was never one to put importance on such a thing. Regardless, now that he has his child, the demon knows he will always treasure her and her mother above all else in this world.

The couple named the girl Vaermina, though MC often liked shortening her name to Mina. She had her father's eyes, horns, and tail, but MC's hair combined with a teal streak just like his, strangely enough. One look at her face and the man knew she'd grow up looking just like her mother; he didn't need his vision to know this.

If he was being honest...the man didn't want to use his gift at all in regards with his daughter. Mina...he knew she'd have a tough go of things. Barbatos knew better than anyone the fear that their gift can promote early in life. To not have much control over the sight and see so many outcomes that could lead to yourself or those close to you get hurt was not an easy thing.

Still, he was determined to teach her when she's old enough to control her power so such visions are not thrust upon her. Whenever he looked at his daughter, still young and bright and unaffected, his heart filled with so much love for her, but also ached in response to the trouble he knew was coming for her eventually.

[lochnessies]

ok here’s a dissection of a post an anon sent me the link to and bc i have the worst time management possible and i completely forgot i had it lol so sorry anon here you go ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I am constantly thinking about how Edelgard just doesn’t seem designed to appeal to cishet men.

i hate to be the one to break this news to you op but just because a character doesn’t show skin like charlotte fire emblem doesn’t mean she isn’t designed to pander to men. she’s very much designed to pander to the (majority straight male) player base with her ‘uwu i only trust you professor omg did u see that rat? pls don’t look at my painting of you uwu’.

then there’s the whole edelgard c support in japanese where byleth makes reference to having come to her room for ‘yobi’ which is

there’s also the scene where byleth can make an unsolicited comment about edelgard’s breast size. which is… uhh… gross.

edelgard also has cipher cards that go from slightly fanserviceie to full on suggestive

and also her breast armor that my sister relentlessly mocked lol

and here’s a chart from the 3h subreddit about gender/sexually in regards to edelgard and edeleth. it’s extremely straight male. op might have just overlooked this since they probably don’t go on reddit and stay on tumblr (which unlike reddit is mostly female and has a high lgbt demographic).

Like the joke is that Bleagles is the Gay House, but everything about her feels deliberately non-hetero.

i don’t like where this is going…

She’s dressed in sharp outfits covering her upper body, with proportions that don’t seem exaggerated.

so women who cover up must be lgbt because straight women are naturally more revealing? oh y i k e s

Her poise and the way she effortlessly flourishes her axe exhibits an air of coolness. While titties out =/= character of no substance, Edelgard being dressed more modestly suggests that she wasn’t designed with male-centred fanservice in mind.

“titties don’t equal no substance but here’s my post on how she has more substance because she doesn’t show titties” ok

And she still looks absolutely stunning in her more modest attire (like seriously, I haven’t felt the need to return to cosplay in years but I want to do her academy look so bad). 

yes she does. amazing design 10/10. i have a feeling this is the only part i’m going to agree with

Edelgard is intense. She does not mince her words and she is constantly evaluating you. Though she tries, she has a difficult time understanding her peers initially. Early on, she talks about how she would sacrifice herself and others in the name of some greater good. She is terrible at communicating with her peers. She has to be seen as infallible. Her heart has been hardened for years and she assumes she has to stay that way. She also assumes everyone mourns the same way she does - which is why she (kind of insensitively) insists you move on when Jeralt dies. Because to her, grief has to be channeled towards action, or else you’ll get lost in it. This attitude is demonstrated time and time again as she presses on. It can make her come off as cold and unfeeling - but look closer, and she’s anything but.

don’t really have anything to say at this part. it is pretty on the nose though i would slightly disagree with that last sentence a bit. i wouldn’t say she’s as i feeling as hubert is but all of her talks of the war boil down to how she feels and never her victims.

Her story is ultimately about her realizing that to achieve her goals, she needs to let people in and allow herself to want things like cakes and tea parties and lazy days in peace. 

????? what ????? her goals include imperialism, ethnic and religious targeting. her story is about having a set of beliefs and mowing down anybody who stands in her way. that has nothing to do with tea, friends, and lazy days. also am i supposed to be sad that she has to get up everyday and work? i do that and i didn’t start a war and only throw a pity party for myself

The game leaves the player guessing as to how involved the Flame Emperor was in each Part I event, makes you feel hurt by her betrayal, and leaves you with a choice: do you follow the orders of the woman who tried to make you a god without your consent, or a young girl with questionable morals about to throw the world into upheaval?

this isn’t an ideal situation but i think i’m going to stick with the woman who tried to make me a god since i’m not selfish and i know it’s not only my desires and life at stake here. plus the green hair slaps ngl

Choosing her of your own volition (not for completionist reasons) requires the basic ability to sympathize with a woman’s pain. It also requires the player to read beyond her unwavering will and dubious methods to get a sense of how deep that pain goes and how the theme of humanity relates to her differently in each route.

i’m not going to touch this since @nilsh13 made a post on it that i’ll link here. i agree with everything he said so to repeat it would be redundant.

The player must be able to see a young woman’s desperate resolve to change the world so it stops exploiting people and ruining lives. They must be able to accept the fact that women can make the same morally wrong and ambivalent decisions that complicated male characters get to make all the time and still be the one to root for.

literally the same reason i love rhea lol her goddess experiments are dubious at best but her reasons are the same you mentioned. i would say that i like this quality in edelgard too if her ending, while bloody, actually ended in a good outcome for fodlan.

This is not unique to LGBT+ people, but this population is likely to understand why Edelgard feels so strongly about why she has to change the system. 

i understand wanting to change a system, i really do. like edelgard, i’m an opinionated bisexual woman (who’s also physically disabled) so yeah i get it. and change can be good but it can also be terrible. even if the church was the boogeyman edelgard treats it as she still replaces it with her own shit regime. so it’s the same circus just with a new conductor.

I don’t think “Edelgard gets undue criticism because she’s a woman” captures the full picture. An important aspect of her treatment by certain parts of the fandom is that she’s a radical woman.

or maybe she does some pretty fucked up shit and it goes unacknowledged in her own route. and yeah she’s radical but in all the worst ways.

Her hatred of the Church and the Crest system resonates way harder with people who have been hurt by institutions that are deeply engrained in our society. 

and what about people who have been hurt by systems where their ‘merit’ didn’t measure up and they were left behind? what about people from nations that experienced imperialism?

Siding with her means siding against the Church - which, while different from real world religious institutions, still invokes language about “sin” and “punishment.

yeah the ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ are used in relation to attempted murders which i think everybody can agree is a bad thing that needs to be condemned.

Choosing Edelgard will likely hit different if homophobic and transphobic Christians used that rhetoric against you.

it has literally nothing to do with ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ in regards to being gay or trans. that’s you projecting. especially since the church has 2 canon gay characters and two coded ones.

like i can understand why having a church condemn you can be uncomfortable but i’m begging you to please look at the context of what’s happening.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the reason F/F Edeleth is the more popular iteration of that ship because most people who would choose to S-support Edelgard are LGBT+ themselves. This is not a revelation. To anyone in the community, it’s fairly obvious. 

i was talking to nilish and he said

so yeah… while there is definitely sapphic femleth shippers out there, there’s still a whole lot of weird fetishizing going on from straight men about edelgard.

Crimson Flower was my first route. I went into the game knowing absolutely nothing. I played it during the last week of 2020 and hoo boy was it cathartic. 

i can tell. this wasn’t supposed to be a dig but it came out that way and i’m not taking it out.

I felt like I was living out a gay revolution power fantasy, where I could truly change systems of oppression while fighting alongside a group of troubled students I’d shaped the lives of.

so a gay revolution power fantasy (cringe) goes hand in hand with imperialism and installing a dictatorship? also the war had nothing to do with sexuality.

Through your unwavering support, Edelgard learns that she needs to be human, that she must listen to her friends, and that she’s allowed to enjoy the world she’s creating.

edelgard gets to learn how to be human all while hunting those who don’t. and she doesn’t listen fo her friends. she doesn’t even trust them. she’s willing to talk to byleth but keep the people who’s been by her side for five years in the dark about everything. and yeah she gets to enjoy her new words since she’s on top. hate to be a commoner under her rule after she burned down my village in her war.

I love this character so much.

clearly. and i honestly don’t care if somebody likes her. i do as well even if my sometimes scathing words can make it seem otherwise.

It has been six months since I first played and I am still analyzing her,

me too. please help me escape i’m losing my mind

because there’s so much depth. Yet so many people fail to see that depth and dismiss her as evil,

i mean, she does some fucked up shit that goes beyond any of the less than desirable actions of the other main characters and does an extremely poor job in trying to make herself seem innocent. i personally don’t think she’s pure evil but i completely understand where the people who say she is are coming from.

because they never had the will to understand complicated women in the first place. 

that’s big talk from somebody who implies that a gay pope is comparable to homophobic and transphobic irl religions and that leads an oppressive regime all because she uses the vague terms of sin and punishments that you have to gay power fantasy your way out of

[sopxhiea]

Moirai

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: Now that the intentions are clear, the niece sees no reason to wait but Alfie just wants to take his sweet time.

Warnings: Age gap.

Genre: Angst and a dash of smut but fluff at the end

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Enjoying the view?”

“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.”

The pavement was cold, still a little wet from the rain this morning as the light sound of your small feet padding across the surface filled the empty street. It was past midnight, a little too late for anyone sane to be roaming around the streets of Camden, only the drunk and insane was around at this hour.

The car had stopped a few blocks away from his house as you had to be careful with where you were going. The excuse of going around to your friend’s flat because she was having a rough night had gotten you out of the grand mansion with your driver. 

You had changed into a lighter dress, one that was sheer around your upper body and was flowing around your knees. There was no noise or interruption as you looked at the house Alfie loved in. Too small for a man of his power but big enough for anyone around here.

You figured he wasn’t so materialistic, not like the posh ladies you’d been around.

A little shiver was apparent in your arms but it was late for any doubts as your small hand hit the door once, and then once after that. There was a pause, deliberately almost and some shuffling from the other side after the sound of heavy footsteps stopped. You heard an animalistic growl from the other side, unsure of the source but there wasn’t much time to contemplate when the door opened in one swift motion.

And there he was, in all his glory.

His hair was a bit messier than it had been during dinner, sleeves rolled up around his elbows. He was not panting but there was a darker look in his eyes, the same one he had in your study earlier that same day. You shot him a smile he had seen before but it made it harder for him to breathe for a second but he recovered quick enough.

“Enjoying the view?” your voice was breathy and there was a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at your small form standing on his doorstep.

He usually had his maid but he was more than thankful he had given her the rest of the night off. He knew you’d be coming, for all he knew the kiss he gave before leaving was enough to lure you in. You hadn’t slept with the man but you wanted to, so desperate for him to do more but you had a reputation stemming from your uncle and his business.

So all the moves had to be calculated.

“Very much so.” he said, not tearing his eyes from your body as he stared with no shame in the world. Alfie had always thought that beauty should be admire and you were it for him.

“Well, it’s rude to keep a lady waiting...” you spoke and trailed off but he saw the way your lips twitched upward.

He stepped aside, taking your hand in his and closing the door behind you. The space itself would be considered very well off for anyone else but you knew the kind of money Alfie made, he had multiple businesses on the side and your uncle was well aware of his wealth.

Maybe that was why he had been invited to dinner, you thought. It was a sign of trust and signaled at a created of a new bond and you soon realized that very same bond could easily be broken because of you. You didn’t ponder on it, not when Alfie was looking at you the way he was.

Moving further inside the house, you came to the conclusion that Alfie was not a materialistic man after all. Most of the furniture seemed expensive but there wasn’t much of it to begin with. A few shelves here and there with old books with golden covers and a few pictures of what you assumed to be his family. 

When you turned back, you found Alfie with a dark look in his eyes and a few centimeters away from you. His chest touched yours, noses almost brushing but you held him back by his arms and smiled. You wanted things to be done quick and efficiently but it also needed to be proper.

“Nice place you have here.” you spoke and didn’t realize the large mutt next to the fireplace.

A smile broke out on your lips as you approached the dog. He was bigger than any dog you’d seen but there was no fear on your face when you softly petted his head, which made Alfie’s eyebrows lift. People, even some tough men, were afraid of his large mutt yet there you were, something half his size speaking to Cyril in a sweet voice.

“What’s his name?” you said, not tearing your eyes away from the dog and Alfie spoke in a mutter, a bit jealous if he was honest with himself.

“Cyril.” he said and not a second later, you cooed to the dog.

“Oh! What a handsome name for a handsome boy..” you said, speaking to Cyril as if he were a baby and as far as Alfie could tell, the mutt was enjoying the attention you were giving him.

You soon realized the man was getting agitated as he watched you play with his dog so you petted Cyril’s head for the last time and sat down in front of Alfie with crossed legs. He wasn’t jealous, he wouldn’t call it that but he had waited for you to arrive since he’d left your uncle’s mansion and all you were keen on doing was to pet the damn dog.

“You’ve been waiting then, hm?” you spoke, lifting your leg up and down and he was focused on the way your body looked under the light dress for a solid minute before meeting your eyes.

All you got was a grunt of approval.

“Disappointed?” your voice was breathy as you asked him, he seemed a bit more calm than usual which, you had learned, was not a good sign with him.

He liked speaking, any time and all the time. It didn’t matter what it was about. Sometimes he’d tell you about business, how his lads were not behaving and all their little mistakes. Sometimes it came to be about him, how he liked his rum a certain way and the way he liked the silk dresses you wore more than the cotton ones, it’s the way they make you glow, he had said.

But he wasn’t speaking at that very moment, for whatever reason he had.

So you took it on your hands, the whole silent treatment on its own. You got up slowly, his eyes were keen on roaming around your body as you did so and you didn’t hide anything. He had kissed you plenty anyway so he had felt a certain amount of your skin against his.

You slowly sat on his thigh, not straddling him but more like putting all your weight on one thigh. The man was massive, anyway, you doubted that he felt anything as you settled yourself on him. He was still looking, adamant on keeping his eyes on you.

He was a damned man, not afraid of anything other than his mum and she was not on this side of the soul anyway so he had very little to worry about. But he would never hurt an innocent person. Sure, he had killed a man with his fists before but that wasn’t the same as a small girl with a clean heart.

Although you’d speak to differ.

“You’re worried?” you spoke, reading right through the difficult man and it took him a minute to register your words.

“Why the fuck would I, yeah, be worried, pet?” he said, hand at his beard like it usually was as he looked at you with uncertain eyes. 

He didn’t know what was going through your mind and Alfie always knew what someone else was thinking.

“You tell me.” you spoke, eyes scanning his but you weren’t really there anymore. There was a flood of worry evident in your orbs and Alfie hated to see that, hated it more because you had been the one to cause it.

You were not posh by upbringing but Alfie knew the people you hung out with, the small circle you had been put in. The girls were closer to aristocracy as he saw it, dainty dresses and conceited minds. They didn’t care for anything else other than their clothes, jewels or the party they were headed to.

He had seen you once with them.

You didn’t fit in, he could tell that much. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t look like you belonged with them, if anything you looked much more elegant than they’d ever be but there wasn’t the same fake smile they had on their lips. Those groups were a must, something your uncle had requested from you since he was doing business with some of the girls’ fathers and he needed you to make a good impression.

They weren’t your friends.

Alfie knew that but the scene had reminded him that you were a small posh girl, somewhere at the top of the social elites whereas he was a gangster. He didn’t mind the commotion, he had never been the one to care for what people had thought of him but you were young, so young in fact that he was afraid that he’d ruin you forever.

You leaned forward a little, in an attempt to get to kiss him but he was deep in thought.

“Alfie.” you called for him and he came out of his daze. You offered him a slow smile but he spoke with a monotone voice instead. 

This was the gangster side of him.

“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.” his voice was low but loud enough for you to hear from the close proximity. You blinked a couple of times and got up from his thigh.

The man was so full of himself sometimes.

“And?” you said, he looked up with a confused face and let you continue.

You wanted to fuck him that night but maybe it would have to wait for later.

“I don’t know why you think so highly of yourself. I just wanted a fuck.” you said, truth hitting him right in the face in an unusual manner.

“Why not fuck one of them rich lads, pet, hm?” he said, not getting up but crossing his arms instead. He was getting angry but he’d never hurt you, you both knew that.

You scoffed at his face with a heaving chest. Your face was slightly flushed, anger evident in your eyes as you stared at him. He thought so highly of himself that it made you want to leave but you had told your uncle you’d be staying the whole night and you were, for a faint moment, tired of lying to the poor old man.

And all along, Alfie got caught up in the way that you looked.

Angry and bothered, it did things to him.

“Because I’ve done enough of that.” you said, breaking the small spell you had put him under with your angry orbs. 

He chuckled at first.

He had heard about your tactics, had never been at the receiving end. He had heard about the way you’d change your name, your whole attire and cover story. As far as he knew, you’d been a butcher’s daughter, a foreign student and even a dress maker at some point. All of these covers popped up in one night and disappeared as quickly. As he had come to learn, all these ladies had the same description.

So he connected all the dots and there you were.

“Ya’ wanna fuck a dangerous man now, yeah, that it, luv?” he said, not sounding angry in the slightest but simply very curious.

You took a moment to think.

You had seen plenty of gangsters before, some with blood on their hands and some with scarves around their neck and a blade in their hat. It didn’t matter that Alfie was a gangster, that was just how it had happened and was a mere fact. You wanted him because he had been nothing but kind patient, not because he was a criminal of sorts.

“That’s what you think?” you spoke, eyes fiery and Alfie’s mind kept on focusing on the way your chest rose and fell rather than what was being asked.

He was just a man after all.

“Is it?” you spoke once more, desperate for him to say no but he had been fueled by anger in the first place and most of the time, he didn’t mean what he said.

“Nah.” he spoke, in a heartbeat. He had been a bit too furious with you.

The business was getting to him, and all that you brought to the table. He wasn’t complaining but Alfie was not a patient man, not when it came to talking what was going through his mind and you’d known that much but his sharp words had never been directed at you so it took you a minute to regain composure.

“Then why did-”

“Luv, I’m fuckin’ sorry, yeah, I am..” he said, getting up from where he was sitting and holding your arm gently. Your eyes were no longer lit up but you just looked a bit down and Alfie knew it was because of the way he’d handled everything. “..didn’t mean to speak to ya’ that way.” he said, not using the word ‘fuck’ to ease your nerves, although it took everything for him not to.

He slowly guided you out of the living room and into his study. He was whispering sweet nothings to your ear as an attempt to get you to feel a bit better when he sat you down on his lap. Then he rambled, much like he did all the time. He spoke about how boring your uncle’s dinner was and how glad it he was that it was over and that earned a light smack to the chest from you but he made it up by telling you that it was all worth it since he got to see the pretty lass.

He talked and talked and you didn’t even realize he had gotten his hands under your skirt.

-----

“St-stop.” you whispered against his skin, his face was inches away from you.

You looked flushed underneath him, laying on his large bed while his hand massaged you under your skirt. The other hand was on your waist, venturing every now and then to explore more of the skin.

He did stop, right after you told him to.

You gulped and looked at his eyes, his face merely inches away as he looked down at you. He was making this take longer than you were used to and it wasn’t that you were complaining but you felt desperate to connect your body with his and he had every intention of doing that as well, just a bit later on.

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me.” he growled in your ear while his hands resumed what they were doing. It earned a low moan from you, the kind that made all the pressure in his body go south. 

It had already been hard to resist you all those times you’d made out but Alfie would never cross the line, the line you had put there. He respected you and your choices and you had waited for a good amount of time before letting him in your pants, it had felt like torture for him to wait but he had. 

Another low moan left your lips, one that made your chest vibrate and it took Alfie a moment to resume what he was doing. You looked so pretty under him, falling apart each time his fingers moved.

You weren’t a virgin, not by a long shot but men usually only cared about their part of the exchange. They would handle their business and make it quick so you weren’t sure of sex could feel good for both parts or it was only designed to satisfy men.

All your questions found answers while Alfie’s lips planted open kisses on your neck and trailed down, inch by inch. You didn’t tell him anything, it was just the initial reaction of slight panic when you felt this good, when he made you feel this good. You let him do his thing, unaware of how responsive your body was being to his touch but he reveled in it.

“Alfie.” your voice was a low whisper, breathy against his skin as he worked against your core. You gulped and he smiled against his skin.

Was it supposed to feel this good?

It felt like freefalling, like you were floating but it also felt close to the edge. He was holding you in his arms the whole time, his touch gentle against your skin. It almost sounded funny, just how gentle this cruel gangster was being with you. He didn’t want you to get hurt, as he knew that was easier than he’d anticipate.

Your legs were quivering as he held you, your breath caught in your throat while you saw stars. His hand didn’t stop, it only multiplied in how dense his movements were as he watched you fall apart. Your hands were digging at his back, too gentle for him to say anything and he drowned in the way you looked.

A thin sheet of sweated coated your body as you recovered from your high, still a bit fazed at what had just happened. You knew what it felt like, just not from a man’s hand and certainly not a gangster. Your eyes soon met his, his blue orbs no longer curious but dark. He looked like he was ready to devour you.

“This is going to get me killed.” you said, your voice still a bit hoarse as you looked into his eyes.

And it would kill you, you both knew it.

Alfie would be fine if the word was ever to get out, he was a grown man who owned an empire he had made for himself. He wasn’t afraid of a lot of things but you were just a young girl who happened to have a dangerous uncle. He would be the one responsible for everything that would happen and he didn’t know if you’d come out of it as the same person you’d been at the beginning.

“Ya’ afraid, luv?” you spoke against his lips before they landed on yours.

He kissed you like a fresh breath of air, it wasn’t the usual kiss. He took his time, as if he was trying to tell you something but you were too lost in the touch of him. You moaned into his mouth and he absorbed every little sound as he kissed you.

You broke the kiss, out of breath as you looked at him, hands on his cheeks as he smiled down at you. You didn’t know if you’d want to stop, even if it were to kill you. You weren’t afraid, you knew you would be able to keep this going for at least two months, you had lied to your uncle before and had no intentions of stopping because you were sleeping with a gangster.

“It’s not that.” you spoke against his lips as he caressed your body, hands all over your soft skin. You were letting him do whatever, the time you had with him felt too precious to pass up any opportunity.

“What..” he kissed you once in between the words. “the fuck ‘s it then, hm?” he spoke against your lips and you realized he’d been staring for a bit too long for it to be ‘just looking’.

You licked your lips first, savoring the taste as he inspected you with his eyes. You’d tell him but he figured you’d need a moment before.

You weren’t afraid, not in the slightest.

“I will get into trouble, which isn’t the problem..” you gulped, a hand over your head as you looked at him. “...I’m not sure what he’ll do to me.” you let out, letting your voice be heard.

Your uncle was known to be generous but not when it came to his perfect little niece. You had gotten away with everything till now and if he found out that you were sleeping with a gangster, let alone Alfie Solomons of all gangsters, he’d get you married to some boring chap and send you to the countryside.

You gulped under his stare and he looked at you once more before speaking. He was no longer hovering above you but sitting in front of you on his bed.

“What could yer old man’ fuckin’ do?” he said, not to mock your uncle but to find out what made you feel so uneasy.

He could do many things.

He could get you out of school, something you desperately didn’t want him to do. He could easily get you married, send you off to some island people hadn’t even heard of. He would yell at you, you knew that. He wouldn’t hit you, that was a line he wouldn’t cross but he would be angry with you and you didn’t know for how long.

The uncertainty made you feel uneasy, not the fear of it all.

“I don’t know....he could easily ruin me, I know that much.” you said, a sigh leaving your lips and you sat up as well, facing Alfie as he looked at you.

“Ruin ya’?” he asked, unsure of what you meant but that was expected. You didn’t share the same culture and so, it could mean many things as far as he was concerned.

“He could get me married to one of those boring old blokes, the ones that keep asking for my hand.” you spoke, as a matter of fact.

There was quite a few of them but you’d never mentioned it before, not seeing the relevance. They wanted to marry you for your uncle’s wealth but you figured it was not of importance. It was obvious to many but Alfie had never paid attention to it before. He couldn’t deny the fact that you were much younger, a lot more innocent and in his eyes, deserving of better than he was.

“Hm.” he said, hand tugging at his beard as he looked at your sitting form on the bed, hair a bit messy while your chest still rose and fell with a faster pace than usual. 

You scooted close to the bear of a man and sat next to him on the bed, leg touching his and his eyes focused on the contact for a second before settling on your features again. You were waiting for him to speak, he could tell from the way you chewed your lip.

His hand lifted, thumb brushing against your lip and you stopped the movement of your teeth. He could see the indecisive tone your eyes held, as if to say that you were still contemplating. You’d taken risks before, big ones at that but sleeping with a gangster had never been on that list. And that gangster was someone your uncle was making business with.

Although you’d already made your decision, you concluded.

He would treat you better than anyone your uncle would find you, or even the lads you would find for yourself. There was no fear of him being crushed by your uncle, since his wrath was something your uncle avoided at all costs. You had no problem sneaking around for a while but if you were to be caught, you needed him to have your back.

“I don’t mind sneaking around, I’ve done it before...” you spoke softly and his eyes remained on you, gentle as he waited for you to finish speaking. “..but if we are to ever get caught, somehow, I need to you to promise me...” you said, not needing to finish the sentence as he knew what you were saying.

You needed him to tell you that he wouldn’t just flee.

Men were scared of power, although some were adamant on fighting it. You knew Alfie was no ordinary man but the fear of being faced with your uncle could still be something he was not adamant on doing, you thought. You watched his eyes contemplate before you saw the decision in his eyes, his face relaxing in the slightest.

“Ya’ think I would fuckin’ leave you?” he asked, not telling you his answer just yet.

He wanted to make you wait.

He liked the innocence sprawled on your features, like a little girl who needed her desires to be met. You were quite spoiled, he knew that but in no way that made him feel uncomfortable, just in the way that made him feel a little amused. He had seen rich girls before, the kind of ladies that would make hell look like a playground if their dress didn’t fit perfectly but you weren’t like them and he decided that was because of how you had been raised.

But you were still a little spoiled, he thought with a smile. 

“I didn’t say that. I was as-” you started speaking, features a little agitated but he stopped you with a smile on his lips. He was just toying with you.

“If we take this further, yeah, you’ll have a lot of fuckin’ trouble gettin’ rid of me, pet.” he said and watched your features relax.

You hadn’t slept with him yet, but you would that night.

“Good. I’d like that.” you said with a childish smile and he felt his chest vibrate.

He looked at your for a bit then, glowing under the moonlight. God you were so young but he didn’t feel the difference most of the time. It made him feel young, if anything. He smiled as his hand cradled your skull gently and he saw the determination in your eyes as your lips neared his.

He tasted all power and manly. There was a taste of vanilla you couldn’t place, and the faint smell of rum on his clothes but there was comfort in everything that he was. You smiled against his lips, straddling his sitting form on the bed and you earned a growl from him the moment your legs landed on top of his.

This was a familiar scene for all you knew but you’d ask for it this time, you felt no shame in it. 

Speaking against his lips, you kept your hands on his hair and chest as your voice met his ears.

“Don’t make me wait.” you spoke between his desperate kisses. His defense was weakened from earlier and he had no intentions of leaving things at kissing that night but he liked the idea of you begging, it made his mind go blank.

He hummed against your lips while you responded to every little action that came from him. Instead of laying you down on the bed and getting things started, he just kept kissing you for a while. You didn’t complain at first, tongues clashing as you sat on top of him with a flushed face but you were growing impatient and you needed him to get to work.

“I’m not gonna beg for it.” you spoke against his lips and grinded against his crotch which only weakened him further.

In a split second, he had you trapped under him on the bed as you laid on your back and stared up at him with darker eyes than before. You wanted this for so long and the man was making you wait which only made you frustrated.

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that, lass.” he said as he planted kisses on your collarbone and your hands found his back while he worked on kissing every inch of you.

It felt like being worshipped, like he was showing you something he couldn’t put into words.

You decided, very quickly, that you wouldn’t mind waiting. It seemed like the man had all the time in the world as he gently kissed your neck and trailed down, inch by inch as you squirmed underneath him. The night was long and he had every intention of showing you how a lady should be treated.

You moaned lowly when he bit the inside of your thigh and he was soon kissing you again. He was the one keeping you on your toes now as it got harder to predict his next move.

You would beg for many things that night but none of them would feel foreign as they rolled off your tongue.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @jjklefttoe @ floatinginwords @opheliasbrokenmind​ @ alliss19

a/n: I’m sorry this came in so late but I truly do hope you enjoyedit and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! There is more coming but there might be a small delay but it’s in the works <3