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plutosfallenangel · 2 years ago

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Random Moon Sign Observations | pt.II

(*based on personal experiences and opinions. look at the whole natal chart to gain complete insight, some aspects/house placements can make contradictions to the below information*)

• Scorpio Moon •

-always watching, taking it all in..

-knows most of the answers to questions before they ask

-dry humor (which I personally love)

-passionate about whatever they put their mind to, no half or 50% effort (they do have to be emotionally bonded to the person or hobbie/task, if not, they're redirecting their energy elsewhere)

-prone to becoming hyperfocused on one specific thing (most times to their detriment)

-mommy issues (but they don't talk about them, and hate when you assume you know the relationship dynamic, it's a very unique relationship dynamic and overtime it can grow to be stronger or more distant)

-deep conversations if they trust you, which is hard to gain. Trust is earned through sacrifice most times.. even if something small, they need to see you prove your loyalty and trust)

-the one I would call to bury a body (jokes pls)

-doesn't like to make assumptions, uses their earned knowledge on human behavior, they will study those around them like a case study, only to come to their own conclusions after seeing all the "facts". They can be extremely patient in this act too... they want to know you from the inside out

-sensitive to shifts in the mood, but again.. most times they will keep this information inside and watch, study you to see why it shifted

• Sagittarius moon •

-life of the party (unless heavy earth placements, bedtime comes sooner than later especially with age)

-will be the one you can call to come help you get your car stuck out of the mud, or go biking in the backwoods.. just down for anything and personally I love that about them

-can be too concerned about keeping the good times rolling, doesn't always directly express emotions.. but it's more like a dark joke, everything is turned into a joke, you just need to decipher it most times. And if it's not turned into a joke, they will laugh after they tell you horrible news. Imo a defense mechanism

-may lack boundaries when it comes to those they connect with emotionally, this isn't always a bad thing, they're coming from a place of exploration... like "how far can you and I go?" However sometimes I find they are the most capable of staying in bad situations, always trying to see the good in everyone

-can start a campfire with their bare hands, or atleast minimal tools, very attracted to fire.. find them near a fire all year round if its possible for them to do so

-can sometimes be sneakier than Scorpio moons.. when they set their eye on something in the distance that they want, they go about it most times in silence (this does depend on which house the moon is in)

-big lovers, big emotions, and larger than life dreams

-facial expressions for DAYS! I love how expressive they are.. warm smiles

-definitely rebellious in their younger years

-doesn't like to be tied down by family, but can adapt (most often moves away from mother)

• Capricorn moon •

- lives by the work hard, play harder motto

-always learns the hard way, doesn't like to take advice, rather learn through experience

-tells you like it is when you ask for relationship advice

-too many responsibilities when they were young, even if they had a good solid foundation growing up and were provided for, the expectations put on them were very heavy

-its never "how are you feeling", more "do you need anything?" and I love them for it

-happiest when they're putting themselves into something they can build on long-term, when they don't have that they can spiral FAST

-these people can drink.. and when I say drink, they're the ones to clear a 12-pack and act like they're still sober (from my experience lol)

-in my experience is much of a mommy's girl/boy as cancer moons are (esp when they're young.. they always want to take care of their mom)

-very in tune with the weather, I notice they most times have allergies or can feel a storm coming from how their body reacts

-big provider energy, but they can feel like they can't accept help from others, and end up toughing out the storm by themselves.. this is often from early childhood experiences that breed the need for extreme independence in some form

• Aquarius moon •

-they are on their own energetic wavelengths together, all aqua moons come here for a very specific reason that aligns with what society needs to be shifted/changed.. no matter how big or small the reputation they have they make an impact on those around them. Most are well-known in their local community

-big futures/big dreamers.. these people can see themselves 10 years down the road when you ask them where they'll be, they might not have a CLUE how to get there (depending on the rest of the chart) but they'll always have a sense of direction intuitively on how to get there

-can become way too overanalyzing of their own feelings and that of others.. over thinkers. They can have a hard time reading emotional encounters in the moment.. they need some time to brew with it, read into it, and for them it's easy to sit with these memories of emotion because aqua is a fixed sign

-there is an inner hermit that exists within all of them, do NOT disturb them during their hermit hours

-doesn't give much energy out to people who do them wrong, or atleast out loud to others. They love to share stories about other people, but aren't the first ones to bring up drama when it happens

-their mom is supportive of their endeavors and always wishes the best for them.. I've never met an aqua moon that didn't have a supportive mom (again this does depend on the whole chart, esp 12H moons)

-naturally creative, most I know are very passionate about creative projects and can easily bury themselves in one for long periods of time

-most times they hate having to cancel plans, not because they dont want to go, it's because they hate feeling like they let someone down

-if they invite you to their house, they will make sure you feel at home

-big social circles, few close friends that understand them

-loves to share their viewpoints, but can have bad memories lol they tend to "misplace" memories, you never know what will trigger an old forgotten memory to come up only to dissappear again

-very smart, loves YouTube videos, emotional comfort documentaries

• Pisces Moon •

-can become their mothers "mother" in a sense, their mom might rely on them a lot

-doesnt mind crying infront of others, and for me I admire this... let it out!! There's NO shame in it! (Just don't do it to manipulate others obv)

-vivid imagination, lucid dreamers, I have a 12H moon and often find myself bonding over dream stories with them

-doesn't mind disappearing until they feel up to being social, just don't forget to check in on them, they love compassion

-i often see when they share their emotions and unfortunate stories with others that it causes them to open up too, they love to hold emotional space for people especially those closest

-can often feel the "blame" from others even if it's not theirs, they can feel like they're always doing something wrong or someone is upset and it is because of them, which is most often not the case

-will decorate with a lot of pastels or a wide variety of colors in their home

-the best mentors in their life are women

-journals, journals, journals... let me into your mind palace

-soft poets, or amateur artists, this moon sign expresses a lot of emotion through art. Art helps them put a finger on how they're feeling. They channel divine messages and emotions through a craft, and even if it's not their own art they are connecting with, they will resonate with it and pass a message along to others that helps them understand something they need to at the time

-either early bedtime or no bedtime at all, creature of the night or morning star.. there's no in between with them

-being alone helps them process the most. Especially the shower lol they can process days worth of emotions in the shower I'm convinced

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #moon signs #astro community #astrology community #scorpio #scorpio moon #sagittarius moon #capricorn moon #aquarius moon #pisces moon

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justsalpals · 1 year ago

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I always knew about Stede's self-centeredness and lack of empathy (or more accurately: lack of thought/consideration) for those around him. It was a part of the character, often played for laughs, and always seemed born of a cheerful ignorance and inability to see outside himself originating from his life of privilege rather than any greed or selfishness.

I assumed a major part of the story would be him growing as a person and learning what it really meant to be a captain. How to care for and look out for the crew. It seemed so engrained into the show's concept, before Ed even showed up, that it never once occurred to me that he just. Wouldn't.

There are examples all over the show, but there's an example that cut me far deeper than the rest. That completely changes how much leeway I was willing to give the character, and made me genuinely so mad for the crew.

You guessed it. It's about Ed, the complete disregard of the crew's wishes and boundaries, and him proving his own hypocrisy and how he's completely willing to manipulate and disregard what I'd thought was a core tenant to his character (ie: "talking it through" meeting others with kindness and understanding, ect.)

It's about how the crew voted Ed to be banished, and Stede invited him back the very same night. It's about "one night" suddenly becoming an extended stay. It's about Stede actually fucking shushing people voicing their concerns and feelings during the apology. It's about what a big deal they made about the probation compromise, Ed in a sack and bell until the crew was comfortable with him again and (once again) Ed literally being back in his leathers 24 hours later. (I usually mentally insert at least a few days between episodes, but we know that wasn't the case here because of Lucius and Pete's engagement sex marathon.)

How many of you wanna bet that the crew genuinely got together and decided they were comfortable with Ed again, after he what? Caught one fish with Fang? Or would you rather bet that Ed got bored of humoring them? Because I know where I'd put my money.

And the crew's attitude breaks my heart, the general vibe summed up by Archie shortly after Ed's non-apology. This is just what happens. It's like when she had to fight Jim to death in the storm. This is just how it goes. The people in charge make the rules, and everyone else just has to deal with it.

So much for the new age of piracy, huh? Sounds like Stede fits right in with how it's always been, just dressed up in empty kind words and false promises.

#our flag means death #ofmd #stede bonnet #edward teach #ofmd critical

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soulessjourney · 11 months ago

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Vengeance Trail

Part 1

Paring: Billy the kid x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: You and Billy had known each other during your younger years. However, following an argument, you departed to forge your own path, leaving things on bad terms between the two of you. Years later, circumstances led you back, having been recruited to assist John Tunstall. As the war drew nearer, tensions resurfaced between both of you.

Warnings: Some violence, language, Billy again not knowing what to do with himself

A/N: She's not perfect, but I hope this helps feed your hunger for part 2. I did decide to make a google form if you would like to be tagged in any future works of mine, so feel free to fill it out! Join the taglist!

You had been staying at Tunstall's ranch for about a week now, and during this time, contact between you and Billy had been minimal following the events of last week. Part of you felt grateful for this lack of interaction. You didn’t know how to face him anymore, especially after what had transpired that morning. Billy attempted to pull you aside and talk, but you consistently brushed him off, providing any excuse that came to mind. Fortunately, Tunstall kept you occupied with plenty of tasks, effectively keeping you away from Billy.

As you walked through the house, adjusting the gun belt delicately resting on your hips, you closed your eyes momentarily, letting out a small sigh. Upon reopening them, you stepped into the kitchen, where Charlie was busy preparing breakfast. “Good morning, Charlie. You’re here quite early,” you remarked, moving around the kitchen to assist him with the food.

“Well, you know me—I’m an early riser. Tunstall called for a meeting this morning to discuss plans with you and the others, particularly addressing the steps we’re going to take concerning Murphy. He's displeased with the current situation in town, especially the trouble that arose between you and Jesse,” Charlie mentioned, raising a brow.

Inhaling sharply, you chuckled softly. “That wasn’t entirely my fault. Jesse didn’t grasp the concept of boundaries, so I merely reminded him. It's not my fault that it resulted in me punching him in the face,” you grumbled, smiling as Charlie burst into laughter. Over your time here, you and Charlie had grown close, especially after he provided comfort following what happened with Billy. He had become a devoted friend, for which you were immensely grateful. “Let's serve the food to the boys. I assume they’re all in the other room?” Charlie nodded, leading you into the large dining area, where Tunstall, Billy, and George were seated.

Placing the plates in front of the boys, you took a seat next to Charlie, which unfortunately positioned you directly in front of Billy. As everyone began to eat, Tunstall glanced at you from his position at the head of the table. “Y/N, I heard about the incident involving you and Jesse the other day. I must say, I’m somewhat disappointed in your actions, but also oddly proud,” he remarked, and you beamed, noting the confused expression Billy shot your way.

“Well, as I mentioned to Charlie, Jesse simply needed a gentle reminder about boundaries, and you know I don’t resort to certain measures unless absolutely necessary, Mr. Tunstall.” You grinned, earning an approving nod from Tunstall and a thumbs-up from George. “But I do promise to be more mindful of my conduct from now on and steer clear of any further confrontations.” You offered the boys a soft smile. Tunstall nodded before delving into detailed discussions about what to expect in the coming days and assigning tasks to each of you.

“Finally, Billy and Y/N, I’m teaming you both up. I want the two of you in town with Charlie. Whatever it is—shopping or sitting in the saloon—I want the three of you to keep an ear on Murphy’s men,” Tunstall instructed. Charlie nodded and glanced between you and Billy. “I don’t care about your history. You both need to find common ground. I won’t tolerate your feud jeopardizing our efforts. You both have skills, and together, you can help achieve our goals.” Tunstall’s stern gaze was fixed on both you and Billy.

You nodded in agreement before Billy could interject. “Certainly, Mr. Tunstall. I’m sure Billy and I can find common ground. I wouldn’t want any of this to jeopardize our hard work,” you smiled before standing. Gathering the empty dishes, you made your way to the kitchen, tidying up the room. Someone entered, prompting a sigh. “I know, Charlie, I’ll sort things out with Billy. I don’t need a lecture,” you grumbled, looking up only to freeze in your tracks.

“Well, I hope you and I can reach an understanding,” Billy said, offering a small smile. “Now that I have you here, I really want to discuss what happened between us.” Dismissing him, you wiped your hands on your black trousers and pushed past Billy.

“There’s nothing to discuss, Billy. It was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened,” you stated, arranging the cans on the shelf. “Finding common ground means civil conversation, not me returning to you. I allowed myself to trust you again, even though I vowed I wouldn’t, and you took advantage of it,” you muttered, fiddling with a can in your hands. “I can’t forgive you for that, not after what you did.” Slamming the can down, you flung the door open and walked out, biting your lip.

Billy followed and grabbed your arm, turning you towards him. “Stop walking away, Y/N, and let me explain, please.” His eyes held a mix of sadness and fear. Sighing, you tilted your head back, jaw clenched. Meeting his gaze, you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to speak.

“I want to be with you. Everything I said that night was genuine. I was just scared—I thought acknowledging our connection would make me vulnerable, especially with Murphy’s situation. I thought saying it was a mistake would protect you somehow,” he explained, his eyes softening more than you thought possible. He looked vulnerable, and all you wanted was to hold him close.

“You hurt me, Billy. I was willing to risk everything and admit feelings I’ve had since we were kids. Waking up next to you was all I wanted. I still care about you deeply, but you hurt me,” tears welled up in your eyes, and he cupped your face in his hands, wiping away any tears that fell.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was foolish, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I want you with me more than anything. Let me make it up to you and prove my dedication to you,” he whispered, receiving a small nod from you in response. With that, he leaned in and kissed you.

---

You, Billy, and Charlie strolled through town, observing kids running about and families engaging in various activities while vendors attempted to sell their wares. Billy walked to your left, his arm occasionally brushing against yours as you scanned the surroundings. Meeting his gaze, you offered a slight smile, which was reciprocated as he gently clasped your hand, giving it a tender squeeze.

“Why don’t we split up? We can cover more ground without drawing attention to ourselves. Y/N, you can wander the streets and listen in on conversations. We know Murphy’s men will be around to keep things in check. I'll hang around the Saloon and see what I can gather. Charlie, you know where you're needed,” Billy suggested, glancing between both of you. Charlie nodded, turning on his heel and departing. Before you could step away, Billy tightened his grip on your hand, causing your gaze to meet his.

“Please be cautious. If you and Jesse had a confrontation, he won’t take it lightly and might come after you. He’s dangerous, Y/N. I don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured softly.

Smiling reassuringly, you reached up, gently caressing his cheek. “I won’t let him near me. Besides, I can hold my ground. That punch was just a warning. Trust me, Cowboy,” you grinned, leaning in to tenderly press your lips against his. Billy reciprocated before pulling back, smiling down at you.

Brushing a stray hair from your eyes, he leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I trust you. Go, but if anything goes wrong, find me. You know where I’ll be,” he murmured against your forehead. Stepping back, you squeezed his hand before navigating through the crowd. You could sense his watchful gaze on your back as you walked away—a small yet tender gesture.

Walking through the bustling crowd, a smile graced your lips as you observed a younger girl being playfully chased by a boy around her age. It brought back memories of you and Billy in your younger days, his playful pursuit as the self-proclaimed notorious outlaw, countered by your claim to that title. Chuckling to yourself, those innocent words seemed ironically true now. You and Billy had become the very outlaws you once playfully pretended to be, but this time, it was no game. Bounties were placed on your heads, and life had become a constant vigil, always watching over your shoulder.

Billy feared losing you, while you feared losing yourself in this harsh existence. You understood that while bounties hung over you, a normal life remained out of reach. The fear of walking an irreversible path haunted you, and it seemed like the only direction you were heading. Working for Tunstall had been your ticket out of this harrowing path, but as time passed, freedom appeared more elusive.

Lost in contemplation, you collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie. Meeting the person's eyes, your gaze hardened upon recognizing Jesse. “Ah, Sadie Bennet, the girl who thought she could throw a punch and get away with it,” Jesse sneered, a sly smile creeping onto his lips.

Arms crossed, you stood firm. “What do you want, Jesse? Another reminder of our last encounter? Be grateful I didn’t reveal the full extent of what you did, or they wouldn’t just be after Murphy—they’d be after you too,” you spat, grimacing as Jesse tightly gripped your wrist.

“Oh, come on, Sadie. We had quite the time together. Last I recall, you warmed my bed,” Jesse taunted, causing you to scoff, wrenching your wrist free from his grasp. “Don’t deny it. You’re not angry about my advances. We shared quite a few unforgettable moments not long ago. But does your dear Billy know the truth about us?”

“Billy doesn’t know because nothing happened, Jesse. You took advantage of my vulnerability when I was ill. And let me remind you, I’m not yours to claim whenever you wish. I mean it, Jesse. Lay a hand on me again, and it’ll be a bullet in your head,” you warned, fixing him with a steely glare. Jesse let out a derisive laugh, taking a step back, nodding before addressing you.

Bending down, Jesse whispered in your ear, “Fine, Sadie. I'll behave, only because I know what you’re capable of. But I’ve got my eye on you. Step out of line, and I’ll spill everything to Billy and end you. Watch yourself, Ms. Bennet. You’re on thin ice.” He straightened, tipping his hat in your direction before sauntering away. Unable to suppress a snarl, you watched him depart, feeling the anger simmering within.

Your attention snapped to Charlie as he rounded the corner, his raised brows signaling his curiosity as he approached you. “Should I ask what that was all about?” he inquired, his gaze scrutinizing your every move as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Scanning your surroundings, you pondered how you would tell him, feeling his penetrating stare only intensify your unease. "Was there something between you and Jesse before Lincoln County?” he prodded, pressing for an answer.

Sighing, you dropped your arms to your sides and nodded. “Yes, but I wouldn’t really call it something happening. A few months prior to your invitation to Lincoln County, Jesse and his crew found me by the river. I’d fallen ill after being alone for some time. They took me back to their camp and nursed me back to health. Jesse misconstrued that as me owing him something and tried to pursue a relationship. Unfortunately, that led to him trying to share my bed one night. Nothing occurred, but he certainly aimed to leave that impression. I woke up the next morning and left. Clearly, he's still bitter about it and insists I owe him something, which I don’t,” you explained, shooting a glare in the direction Jesse had walked off in.

Charlie nodded along with your explanation, offering a gentle pat on your shoulder. “I suppose that's why you didn’t tell Billy about Jesse, as you mentioned. Billy's a good lad, but he sometimes doesn’t think rationally. I get why you've refrained from telling him. But considering whatever's between you two, don’t you think it’s best to inform him so he doesn't find out through the grapevine?” Charlie suggested, prompting you to focus on his words. He had a valid point; it would be wiser to tell the truth about Jesse to Billy before Jesse could manipulate his thoughts.

“You make a good point. Let's head back to the saloon. I didn’t catch much while walking, so we can all just unwind this evening, have a drink, and talk. It’s been too long since we’ve sat down for a relaxed conversation,” you beamed, beginning to move toward the Saloon with Charlie beside you. You knew you had to tell Billy, but the timing needed to be right. You didn’t want him constantly fretting about your safety concerning Jesse, especially with the ongoing tension between Tunstall and Murphy.

---

As both of you arrived, Billy emerged from the building, adjusting his suspenders, his eyes brightening upon seeing you. He nodded toward Charlie before glancing between both of you. “Did you find anything while you were out?” he inquired, reaching up to gently caress your arm. Charlie shook his head, diverting his gaze to you. You sensed his expectation for an explanation, but you couldn't bring yourself to disclose the truth just yet.

“Nothing much, just people expressing discontent with Murphy’s power,” you shrugged, noting the disappointment in Charlie’s eyes as he shot you a disapproving look. It felt wrong to withhold the truth about your encounter with Jesse, but revealing it to Billy without instigating him to pursue Jesse seemed daunting. “Let’s head back. We can update Tunstall on whatever little information we gathered tonight. Even though it was minimal, he’d like to be informed,” you suggested, glancing at the boys.

Billy's attention shifted over your shoulder toward the saloon behind you. “Just a moment,” he uttered, walking past you toward the Saloon. Observing his movements closely, Charlie moved to stand beside you. You noticed a carriage parked nearby. Shortly after Billy positioned himself against the saloon pillar, the door opened, and two women stepped out. One was older, while the other, quite beautiful, caught your eye. Glancing at Charlie for clarification, he shrugged and kept his focus on Billy. “Señorita Del Tobosco,” he spoke up.

Your eyebrows shot up at his nervous tone and fidgeting. “Who is she?” you asked Charlie in a hushed tone as the two conversed in Spanish.

“Her name is Dulcinea del Tobosco. She belongs to one of Mexico’s wealthiest families. Billy spotted her some time ago, around the time of your fallout, and seemed intrigued,” Charlie explained quietly, observing your reaction. You felt a twinge of discomfort at Charlie’s revelation and Billy’s interest. As they continued their conversation, Dulcinea’s confident demeanor exuded elegance in her burnt orange dress, holding an envelope as she raised her chin in Billy’s direction, almost challenging him.

Billy adjusted his posture, resting his arm on his holstered pistol. The interaction made you uneasy, and you were determined to understand Billy's sudden interest. “Who are you?” Dulcinea inquired, her gaze fixed on him, issuing an unspoken challenge.

“I’m Billy,” he replied, a sudden surge of confidence in his tone. “I just wanted to introduce myself.” You couldn’t help but scoff quietly, prompting Charlie to grasp your wrist and pull you away. Billy wasn't one to introduce himself casually, especially to other women, unless he had an ulterior motive.

Halting Charlie's attempt to pull you away, you shifted your stance, determined to catch the remainder of their conversation. “That’s hardly a reason to ambush someone in the street,” she remarked, prompting an eye-roll from you. Billy's approach hardly qualified as an ambush, and her overbearing confidence grated on your nerves. Deciding you'd heard enough, you pivoted on your heel, intending to leave, only to halt at her next question. “Do you have another motive?” she probed, causing your mind to race. Glancing over your shoulder at Billy, you hoped his response wouldn’t push you over the edge.

Billy remained silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating his next words to her. “I’d like to see you again,” he eventually stated. Anger surged within you at his words. Just hours ago, Billy had been pleading with you to comprehend his hesitation, yet here he was, asking to meet another woman as if the intimacy he shared with you earlier meant nothing. Turning to Charlie, you muttered about leaving, then mounted your horse, riding back to Tunstall's residence, refusing to listen to any further conversation.

---

That evening, you lay on your bed, gazing at the ceiling, lost in thought, replaying the recent hours in your mind. Between Jesse's confrontation in the street and Billy's interest in another woman, you wished you could simply vanish. Tunstall and the others had given you space, allowing you to return upstairs without a word, slamming your door shut behind you upon entering your room. Toying with the necklace around your neck, you rested an arm behind your head before dropping the locket onto your chest. Sitting up, you swung your legs over the bed's edge, running your fingers through your hair, when the door behind you creaked open.

"I was wondering where you went off to. Charlie said you left in a hurry," Billy spoke quietly from behind, gently closing the door.

Releasing a sarcastic laugh, you kept your back turned, tilting your head back to compose yourself. "Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand there as you asked for the time of another woman," you mumbled, your gaze fixated on the painting in front of you. Part of you recognized the hypocrisy of being upset with Billy when you were keeping something from him, but this felt different.

Billy remained silent for a moment before walking toward the bed. "It’s not what you think. I just want to gather information from her about her family. They’re powerful, Y/N, that kind of influence could be useful in the future, even you can’t deny that," he reasoned, prompting a scoff from you as you stood and turned to face him.

"That’s not believable, Billy. No man is that nervous to talk to a woman just to know about her family. You may be good at manipulating people, but you’re not that skilled of an actor to fool someone like you're trying to do now. Charlie mentioned your sudden interest in her, and how you tend to look for her whenever you’re in town," you challenged, even though the last part was an exaggeration, hoping to catch him in a lie. His avoidance confirmed your suspicions.

"Okay, you're not far off. She has a certain allure, and I want to uncover it," he admitted, reaching out to you. "I promise there are no romantic feelings involved."

Slapping his hand away, you moved around the bed, standing before him, projecting confidence. "Well, Billy, don’t expect me to stick around while you play games," you asserted, meeting his gaze firmly.

Billy nodded, trying to caress your cheek. "Then come with us. She wants to go riding in a few days. Why don’t you join us? Perhaps you’ll understand what I’m trying to do," he suggested, pressing his forehead against yours. Suppressing the urge to push him away and confront him further, you hesitated, unsure if his words were sincere or just another facade.

You relented, placing your hands on his chest. "Fine, I’ll come along, but remember, Billy, if you’re deceiving me, I won’t hesitate to throw you off a nearby cliff," you grumbled, drawing a soft chuckle from him, noting the rapid pulse under your hand.

Leaning down, Billy pressed his lips against yours, and foolishly, you reciprocated, succumbing to your desires. "I promise, you're the only one for me," he whispered after breaking the kiss. You responded with a small nod, pulling him closer. You felt young and naive, already regretting trusting his reassurances.

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld

#Spotify #billy the kid #billy the kid fanfic #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #Billy the kid #tom blyth #billy the kid fanfiction #tom blyth fanfiction #william bonney #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #vengeance trail

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aylish91 · 9 months ago

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Its a late night and i had a scenario for the Leviathan Au…

Reader was born a mer, and actually the last of their species due to the unfortunate involvement of humans, and nightmare decides to take in reader because of this.

Maybe a comfort scene where reader is grieving over the loss of the members from her pod and the loss of her species in general and nightmare finds them alone? I would love to see what your take on this would be..

A morsel for your soul dear Anon. I may have misread it the first time, but we got there! hahaha! Have some first meetings and hurt/comfort.

Thank you for reading and requesting!

Why do you Weep?

The deep was… different. The pressure made your fins heavy and breath hard. You knew in time your body would become more accustomed to it and work out its difficulties, but for now, it was one more reminder of how much things had changed.

You missed the shallows and the reef. You missed your reef. You missed the laughter and anticipation of waiting for hunting parties returning with jellies and siphonophores.

You missed everything.

Sometimes you wonder if it would have been better if you had stayed behind. At least then you could have been lost with all the others. As it was, your mother’s panicked pleas were the only thing keeping you going. She and your father had given up so much that you might survive…

It hurt.

Flaring the soft ridges of your spine and fins, you forced yourself to dive deeper. You weren’t sure how far you had swum to reach the trench, but your mother was adamant that your safety hinged on descending “past the edge of day”.

Humans couldn’t follow unaided.

You knew you had reached it when a thin barrier of dark magic barred your path.

Though you were still cautious, crossing the border had been an immense relief. The waters had turned far too dark from the addition of nightfall and you were on the verge of collapse. Finally being able to search for a place to rest gave you hope.

The ledge you eventually found was large enough to lay but not inlaid enough for any sort of proper protection, but you made it work. Your pitiful nest may have lacked material, but it was enough to sleep on for a night. Besides, in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Your fins bristled.

If it had been any darker, you would never have noticed the massive tentacles creeping around the ledge ready to encase you. Quickly dodging, a growled reverberating voice sent true fear gripping your soul.

“Why do you weep, little fish? What causes you such trepidation?” Though the words were that of concerned question, their tone and the intent boiling the water proved otherwise. Any genuine concern was replaced with that of mistrust and hunger.

You were nothing more than a trespasser. Prey to be chased and hunted.

Instincts had you darting up and away, but what you thought was an exit quickly turned into a trap. The tentacles were merely a distraction for the dark leviathan before you, his large skeletal hands loosely surrounding your escape. All you could do was flair your fins in hopes the flash of blue and white would warn against attack or consumption.

The titan only gave a pleased hum, a single slit of an orb casting eerie shadows. It made you distinctly aware of other flashes just out of sight of its light.

“Oh my~ A Sea Swallow? It has been quite the amount of time since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing one of your kind. What brings one this far into my territory? And in such a state? Pushing boundaries again, or simply a mistake? Please, do tell.”

A spot of jittering red passed overhead.

You couldn’t speak, terror allowing your poison to coat your body. At your silence, the titan leaned closer with a growl.

“What’s the matter? Has my appearance truly been this much of a surprise as to capture your tongue?”

The silhouette of a very large shark passed on the right. You flinched at the movement, the giant’s eyelight dilating to flick over you. Your soul was pounded in your chest as you shook but your words remained locked away.

Slowly, he leaned back.

“Pity. These circumstances have been less than appealing. Perhaps… a gentler touch is needed…” His fingers closed around you. “Come. I wish to know what has driven a Blue Angel this deep.”

You didn’t fight. You couldn’t. You were helpless as he dragged you further into the dark unknown.

***

You found yourself wandering back to the rim. Time had played a big part in your return, but it didn’t make the journey any easier. However, once there, you couldn’t bring yourself to cross the precipice of the deep. You stayed at its mouth, gazing back toward the reefs and shallows up ahead.

The silence was deafening.

Despite everything you had gone through, the growth and strides you had made, the water felt heavier now than in the depths. The colors were too bright, sunshine overwhelming instead of warm. Everything felt like it was too much.

There was no one to greet you home.

…

You couldn’t do it.

As tears burned the corner of your eyes, you found yourself wishing you had never taken the trip. Flashes of your past had you breaking. Sobs wracked with heavy tears filled the silence. In your grief, your fins paled in their droop as you floated freely in the open water. They pulled you slowly down to drift past the cliffs and crags as you sank.

You were numb, watching the light above dim the further you fell. One moment became two, two became four until time drifted with you into nothingness. It took a sudden uplift in the water for you to regain any sense of reality. A familiar glow cutting through your metaphorical darkness.

Nightmare’s face hovered above you, his tentacles flaring below. The subtle brush against your fins had you registering his hands carefully cupping your form. In a way, it reminded you of the very first time you passed into the realm of the deep, the soft rumble of his voice pulling you further from the oblivion.

“Where are you, little fish? Your mind has taken you beyond my reach.”

His words were oddly quiet, eyelight dim as it searched. It stirred something within you, helping you feel for the first time just how cold you had become. Slowly, you moved enough to grip one of his clawed fingers. His thumb, though hesitant, came to stroke your soft underbelly.

You felt muted and far away.

“Everyone is gone... It’s too quiet.”

“Something tells me it's not the boys to which you refer.”

Tears once again threatened to spill. “My family. My pod... They—”

“Are down in the deep.” You felt the water shift from his shuddered intake of breath. “Those that came before might not be with you Angel, but that does not mean there can’t be others. Has our time meant so little that you cannot see them for what they truly are? What we, are?” You had never heard him take such a gentle but firm tone. So quiet. Reserved for only the two of you. You could feel the overwhelming intent in each word. It spread comfort with promises of so much more.

“We may not be able to bring back your past, but do not forget your future in your grief. The present is still here, waiting. The shiver would be very disappointed if you forgot that.”

“All this time I was just— How? How do I keep going? It hurts! Nothing’s the same anymore!”

His giant skull came to bonk and nuzzle into yours. “With time, nothing ever is. There is always change, no matter how subtle. We grow, we love, we lose. Currents move and sands pass. It is unfortunate you should have to face such things so soon, but we are here, and we can help carry the burden.” A claw caressed your tear-stained cheek. “Share your sorrows, that I might ease your pain. You are not alone.”

For the first time since the incident, you felt a deep sense of release. The ache in your soul softened. Gripping tighter, you pressed back with a desperation you didn’t know you had.

“I wish you could roam in the shallows. If you were… Should I ever get the courage to go back, I would have liked you to be there.”

“Perhaps…” He hesitated, eyelight darting away as a hint of color bloomed on his skull. “Perhaps when you are ready, I will be.”

You met his gaze in confusion. “But, how—”

A gentle claw pressed against your lips with a mischievous chuckle, water rushing from Nightmare’s sudden descent. “Now now, my Angel. All in due time. For now, let us return. The others await your return home.”

…

Home.

… You smiled, leaning more into the giant. It looked like there would be someone to greet you after all.

#asks #writing requests #my writing #undertale #undertale fanfiction #leviathantale #nightmare x reader #nightmare sans #mer reader #hurt/comfort #ao3 fanfic #not beta read

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bunnysnuff · 1 month ago

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Being the rebellious!spring sibling headcannons:

Pairing: Tori spring x sibling!reader. (Age 14).

Trigger warnings: rebellious behaviour.

Request.

Constant Eye Rolls and Sighs: Tori is always on the receiving end of your endless eye rolls. Every time she tells you what to do or tries to give advice, you hit her with an exaggerated sigh or sarcastic response, making it clear that you think she doesn’t understand you at all right now.

Pushing Boundaries: You’re constantly testing the waters with new boundaries—sneaking out, staying up too late, and being deliberately defiant about the smallest things, like refusing to clean your room or do your homework until the last possible second. Tori tries to stay calm, but there’s always a hint of frustration in her eyes.

Fashion Wars: Your rebellious phase is also about finding your identity, and that includes your clothes. You’re experimenting with different, sometimes wild, outfits—maybe a bit of goth, or punk, or something completely unexpected. Tori doesn’t comment much on your choices, but she raises an eyebrow when you walk out the door in fishnets and combat boots, secretly worrying you’ll get in trouble at school.

Arguments Over Small Things: Every little thing seems to lead to an argument—whether it’s Tori reminding you to do your homework or you taking too long in the bathroom. The smallest interaction can escalate into a heated back-and-forth, leaving Tori exasperated and you storming off to your room, slamming the door behind you.

Late-Night Conversations: Despite the rebellion and tension, there are rare, quiet moments when you let your guard down, and Tori becomes the person you confide in. Maybe it’s late at night after a particularly rough day, and you sneak into her room, sitting at the edge of her bed to talk about what’s really bothering you. Tori listens carefully, offering support in her calm, unbothered way, without pushing you too hard.

Trying to Shock Her: You get a kick out of trying to shock Tori with your rebellious behavior, whether it’s talking about something you know she’ll disapprove of or trying to provoke a reaction by mentioning friends who aren’t exactly model students. But Tori’s deadpan expressions and lack of outward emotion frustrate you, because she never gives you the reaction you want.

Getting Away With More Than You Think: While it seems like Tori is constantly annoyed with you, she lets a lot of things slide. You think you’re sneaky when you stay out past curfew or come home with a new piercing you probably weren’t supposed to get, but the truth is, Tori knows about it and chooses not to snitch. She understands that you’re going through something and is quietly giving you space to figure it out—within reason.

Feeling Misunderstood: A big part of your rebellion stems from feeling misunderstood, especially by Tori. You see her as distant and detached, someone who doesn’t really get what it’s like to be 14 and going through a lot. Tori, on the other hand, remembers being your age and tries to give you the freedom to grow, but it doesn’t always come across that way to you.

Sarcastic Sister Dynamics: Your relationship with Tori is filled with sarcasm. When she tries to talk to you, you respond with biting humor, pretending like you don’t care. Tori gives it right back, keeping her tone dry and deadpan, but sometimes her sarcasm hits a little too close to home, sparking another argument.

Tori’s Quiet Concern: Beneath the tension, Tori is quietly worried about you. She watches from the sidelines, trying to figure out how to support you without pushing too hard. When you act out or rebel, she doesn’t always know what to do, but she’s always there, keeping an eye on you even when you don’t notice. She’s not the most emotionally expressive person, but her concern for you runs deep.

Shared Silence: Despite the constant clashes, you and Tori have moments of quiet understanding. Maybe you both sit in the living room watching TV in silence, not talking but just being in each other’s presence. These moments remind you that, despite the rebellion and frustration, Tori is still your sister, and deep down, you know she has your back.

Tori’s Subtle Support: Tori won’t be the one to give you a heart-to-heart pep talk, but she’ll show up for you in subtle ways—slipping money into your bag when she knows you’re going out with friends, making sure you have a ride home after a party, or even standing up for you to your parents when you get in trouble. She’ll never say it outright, but she cares more than you think.

#heartstopper imagines #heartstopper x reader #bunnysnuff writes✨#Tori spring #Tori spring imagine #Tori spring headcannon #Tori spring x reader #Tori spring x sibling!reader #tori spring heartstopper

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fizziepopangel · 6 months ago

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Rest For The Wicked

* Author's note: I am chronically ill and I've been feeling like shit lately so this fic took so much longer than I thought it would, and it's not as good as I had hoped, but I am my own worst critic so I hope everyone else enjoys it.

P.s. If you have something you would like to request you can always make a request with the Fic Request Form

Husk stood behind the bar, a glass of whiskey resting on the counter beside him as he watched the other residents of the hotel mill around the common area. A yawn escaped his lips as he stared lazily into the common room where Charlie was droning on and on about trust or apologies or boundaries or some other redemption bullshit.

Fuck, I hate this shit. He thought with another yawn as he watched Niffty scurry around after a bug. That girl’s put more holes in the floor and the walls stabbing at those things than she’s put in the bugs. Why do we even let that little psycho run around with anything sharp in the first place?

He let out another yawn and took a swig of whiskey. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten a good night’s sleep. He had been an insomniac for as long as he could remember, but his inability to sleep had worsened since he and Angel had become a thing…. He wanted to sleep after a long day of manning the bar and participating in all of Charlie’s redemption activities, but Angel wanted to go out dancing and blow off steam after a long day of redemption training and dealing with Valentino in the studio… And Husk didn’t think it was his place to say no. He knew he didn’t have much going for him. He was old, he was a gambler and a drunk, and honestly he didn’t see anything attractive about himself, so he figured it would be unwise to disagree or use the word ‘no’ too often once he found himself with a man he already felt he didn’t deserve…. But the lack of sleep and constantly forcing himself to be on the go was starting to take a toll on the hell cat; he could tell the second it began, but his motto always was that there no rest for the wicked and he always claimed that it was the motto of hell itself, even in Charlie’s hotel of ‘healing’.

First it was just a dull ache in his lower back; too much time on his feet at the bar… He figured he could handle it, maybe just pop a couple ibuprofen with his whiskey before work, but over the next few days it just seemed to be one thing after another piling up. Headaches, back aches, and overall fatigue, it all just kinda began to weigh on him heavier and heavier until it seemed like he was ready to crumble beneath this invisible force that no one but him could see.

Husk did his best to ignore it. He really did. He popped ibuprofen, pulled a barstool behind the bar to try to sit whenever he had a chance, even sipping water every so often in a feeble attempt to reverse whatever the fuck had been happening to him… But the stress proved to be too much for the old bar cat, and eventually everything that seemed to be building up would finally seem to break him.

And that is how his boyfriend found him when he came down to swipe a bottle of booze off the shelf after a long day of filming with Valentino; sitting behind the bar at the end of his shift, his body curled up in a ball as he rubbed his temples and tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Husk? Babe, what are you doin’?” Angel said, his voice just above a whisper as he peered over the bar at the hell cat he had come to love. There was concern written across his features, but he stayed where he was… He loved the feline demon in front of him, but it was late and he was tired, and honestly he didn’t know how Husk would react to him having walked in on this seemingly intimate moment since they had only really been dating for a couple of months.

Husk sat there, his wings moving to shelter him in a sort of passive show of defensiveness at his boyfriend's voice. “I…’m fine.” Husk mumbled out, his breath coming out in a sort of shaky sigh that just didn’t sit right with Angel.

All of the tiredness and annoyance from his own day faded away, taking his fear of overstepping with it as Angel found himself hopping behind the bar and kneeling beside the usually stoic bartender. “You don’t sound too fine.” He sling an arm around his boyfriend. “Ya know I won’t judge you or nothin’ if you aren’t fine…. You never judged me.” Angel gently bumps the other demon’s shoulder and gives him a soft smile. “That’s why I love ya.”

Husk chuckles through his pain and exhaustion. “Yeah? That the only reason?”

“Nah, there’s a couple of other things I like too.” He smirks. “Now what’s goin’ on, kitten?”

“I’m just…. “ Husk let out a long sigh. “I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

Angel looked Husk up and down. There was something about the dark bags beneath his eyes as he said that made Angel’s heart ache. He tried to think about it and in all honesty, he couldn’t really remember the last time he had seen the bartender sit down for more than a moment, or the last time he had seen him eat a decent meal or drink anything other than whiskey.

Gently, Angel leaned in and kissed Husk’s forehead. “How about we get you up off the floor and go back to my place tonight? I’ll run you a bath.” Angel smirked flirtatiously. “Maybe I’ll join ya; find a way to help you… relax.”

Angel smiled as his boyfriend let out a dry chuckle. “Don’t know if I’m up for that tonight.”

Giving him an affectionate nuzzle, the spider demon smirked. “Fine. Maybe we could just cuddle or somethin’?”

“That’s gay.” Husk mumbled, sniffling slightly.

Slowly, the pair made their way to Angel’s room, moving at the turtle-like pace Husk set. Despite Husk grumbling about feeling old and hating how shitty he felt, Angel couldn’t help but feel an almost overwhelming sense of love for the grumpy drunk…. Though as he helped the other man into his room, part of him was a little upset that Husk had let himself burn out this badly.

“Why ain’t we goin’ to my room?” Husk grumbled, pulling Angel from his thoughts as he pulled him into the room and helped him ease onto the bed. Fat Nuggets immediately climbed up on the bed and nuzzled into Husk’s side, snorting softly. Despite himself, the tired drunk grinned softly as he gave the little demon hog a pat. “Hey there, Fat Nuggets.”

Angel smiled as he watched Husk drop his rather tough exterior to pet his little piggy pal. He always loved the relationship Husk had with the little creature, and he knew that Fat Nuggets truly enjoyed the time he got to spend with Husk. It made his heart smile.

Shaking the thought from his head, Angel walked over and placed a soft kiss on his pig’s head before looking at his boyfriend. “I’ll get that bath goin’, then we can–”

“Nah.”Husk mumbled, shaking his head for a moment before stopping when he realized that the motion made him dizzy in the exhausted state he was in, and that dizziness made him nauseous. “No, just…. I just need to sleep.”

A soft sad look seemed to settle on Angel’s face. Husk looked like he needed a lot more than just sleep… And as he looked him over, he felt bad considering that Husk always seemed to look after him and his well being.He wasn’t sure how he had missed the signs of his partner getting so overworked; he saw the man every single day, this should’ve been something he noticed way before it got to the point of finding him crying on the floor of the bar the way he had.

“How ‘bout we get ready for bed then?” Angel suggested softly, reaching over to gently rub Husk’s back. Husk let out a soft, contented hum, his eyes already growing heavy as his body teetered on the bed. He didn’t argue as Angel moved Fat Nuggets aside and gently easing his boyfriend down against the bed. “Tomorrow we’ll spend the day in bed; we’ll watch some of those stupid magic shows you like on VoxTube and order junk food, maybe even sneak some booze from the bar.”

Angel’s soft words fell into the air, covered by his boyfriend’s snores. He didn’t mind though; this was the most peaceful he had ever seen the soul of his partner. He sighed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over them both and kissing Husk’s temple. “Goodnight, kitten.”

He lay down, but Angel didn’t sleep. No, he lay awake, his hands slowly stroking through Husk’s hair as he listened to him snore and purr through the night. Despite everything that had happened at work that day, he felt at peace knowing that he could hear Husk’s soft breathing as he finally slept; knowing that despite the hell the other man put himself through, that he felt at peace when he was with him, and that in times like this he could take care of Husk in the same way Husk took care of him.

#fizziepop thoughts #fizzie's fics #vivziepop #husk fanfic #hazbin hotel #huskerdust #no rest for the wicked #angel x husk #exhausted husk #fluff fic #huskerdust fic #huskerdust fluff

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fanfic-scribbles · 1 year ago

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Marry Me Three

Sequel to: Marry Me 2 - Boyfriend’s Back (All Right)

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Marriage is stupidly limited. That’s okay– you’ve never found a box that could fit you anyway.

Quick facts: Romance – Steve Rogers/Reader/Bucky Barnes – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, marriage talk, a little fade-to-black sexy times

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 3170

A/N: At last, the end of the ‘Marry Me’ saga. Please enjoy a bunch of goofballs <3

Bucky is brooding.

This isn’t so different from usual, but what is unusual is that none of your distraction tactics are working. The lovey-dovey stuff gets a little kiss before he’s back to stewing in his own head, the funny stuff gets a half-hearted smile before he once again becomes the protagonist of a Russian tragedy, (it is ridiculous that he is not actually Russian, honestly, even Natasha has commented that she feels lacking next to him), and your last-ditch attempts to be annoying get a scowl and some muttered curses before he turns away and does his best gargoyle impression.

Some research is required.

“Is there a reason you’ve started walking around with a notepad and pen and staring at Bucky?” Steve asks, like for all he knows the answer could very well be ‘no.’

“I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with him,” you say. “So I’m taking notes and observations so I can put them together later.”

“Ah.” He sips his coffee and stares at you. “That explains the new corkboard. No string?”

“I had to order it. They were out of red,” you admit. “It’s coming with the safari hat.”

He stares at you. “Why safari instead of a deerstalker?”

“The safari ones looked nicer and shipped faster,” you say. “If the binoculars weren’t more annoying than they’re worth I’d be using them too. Maybe if I’m annoying enough I can actually get him to talk about his fucking feelings rather than keep shutting me out.”

Steve pulls you into a hug and kisses your head. “I’ll try and talk to him,” he says and rubs your shoulder. As he pulls away, he says, “No smoking pipes.”

You hadn’t been thinking about that since your Sherlock Holmes cosplay abruptly stopped with the lack of nice hats available with fast shipping, but now that he’s said no you can’t resist the siren song of pushing boundaries. “Not even a bubble one?”

Steve shoots you a glare and wanders off.

Well, if Steve succeeds, hopefully you’ll be able to find another use for the safari hat. But until he pulls through you will continue to observe Boyfriendicus Moodicus and hope a solution presents itself.

Nothing magically happens to make things better. Bucky’s still sullen, but he’s sullen with a guilty edge when he comes up one day and hugs you from behind. “I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk,” he says and presses a little kiss to your head.

“You’re not a jerk,” you say and put your hands over his as Steve watches with a look of concern himself. The talk didn’t go so well, apparently, but at least someone else is on the lookout now. “But I know you’re upset and I wish you’d tell me why. Or Steve. Or an imaginary friend. Somebody.”

“I, uh…” He nuzzles you, preying on your weakness. Bastard. You hope he keeps it up. “I don’t know how to say it,” he admits. “It’s something in my own head, and I don’t know how to…say it right. So I wanna wait.”

“But you will?” you ask and he nods. “Fine,” you say uncertainly. “If it takes too long though I’m getting a little hand puppet, okay?”

Even the thought makes him look annoyed, which is exactly what you were hoping for. They know better than to test you on your most ridiculous ideas, and you make a few open and shut motions with your hand to drive the point home. But something about how Bucky looks at your hand catches your attention. There’s a brief burst of longing and what is he even looking a–

Oh.

Oh!

The ring.

Over the next week you take your Bucky Studies very seriously. He said he can’t verbalize it and you believe that– Steve has his moments but Bucky has an especially hard time talking about what he wants and what he feels, (and when you think about the why you end up clinging to him like a koala which is not ideal for observation but is great for very distracting kisses), so you don’t try to push him. The safari hat goes mostly unused, alas, but you do pick up on a few things:

A) Bucky doesn’t just give sad longing looks at your ring, but at Steve’s too;

B) If you and Steve are already fooling around, Bucky is a lot more hesitant about joining in than he was when you all started your, ahem, group activities;

C) A and B are very often paired together– and while A can happen during even just the mundanity of the day, B will always have that look of envy;

and A point 2 C B or whatever) The envious look at your rings is almost always followed by a flash of annoyance. And not at you– you’ve gotten very, very good at reading your partners’ looks of annoyance, (you even have a handy card catalogue you reference sometimes to make them very annoyed at you), but seemingly at himself.

It’s sort of remarkable that you can see all this, because while you’re more observant than people sometimes give you credit for, it’s still something special to be able to observe Bucky without having him call you on it once or twice. It’s nice that he’s so comfortable around you. But it’s not nice that this issue– whatever he can’t verbalize– is eating him away so much that he lets it show for all and sundry.

Still, now you have some data. It’s time to try and formulate some solutions.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah doll?”

“Would it make you feel better if Steve and I got divorced?”

Bucky chokes on his drink. Steve, to his credit, merely stops cutting his food and looks up at you past slightly raised brows. You think it’s nice that he understands what you meant. Or maybe he doesn’t understand and he’s just used to your nonsense. If you’re being honest, it’s probably more the latter, but it’s still nice to have your general person so well understood that Steve can hear that and not worry.

“Wh-…” Bucky pauses to take another drink that actually makes it down his throat. “Sweetheart, why would I want that?”

“It’s just a thought,” you say. “Because Steve and I love each other whether we’re together in the eyes of the law or not. Just like we love you.” You have to hurry up when he opens his mouth. “And I know you know we don’t love you any less, but knowing and feeling are two different things and we all have doubts.”

“I don’t doubt,” Bucky says quickly. “But…you’re sort of right. It’s just something I have to deal with.” He takes your hand and tugs you in for a little hug that you both have to lean out of your chairs for. “I don’t want you and Steve to get divorced. I like that you two are married. Also, it’d be a huge pain in the ass and pro’ly wouldn’t do much.”

“Okay.” You kiss his head and lean back. Back to the drawing board. Luckily the drawing board still has some sketches on it. “It’s okay Bucky, I’ve got another idea.”

Both Bucky and Steve are suddenly distracted by ringing phones. You sigh but pull yourself together as they jump up. While they get ready, you shove their dinners into containers so they can at least have a little something on their way to save the world.

“I know it sounded bad, but you get what I meant, right?” you ask Steve in between kissing him goodbye. Multiple times, of course.

“I know. And I agree.” He smiles and kisses you one more time before letting Bucky in.

You make sure to give Bucky just as much physical love as you did Steve, but he’s looking at you cautiously. Still, he kisses you, and says, “Don’t do anything before we get home and talk about your ‘idea,’ okay?”

“Have a lovely day at work; be safe!” you say cheerfully. Bucky is about to open his mouth but you are, strangely, saved by yet more ringing from his phone, and the sounds of tires screeching outside. He rolls his eyes and runs out with Steve, not even pausing when he mouths, ‘We’ll talk later.’

You shut the door and turn back to your empty home. You allow yourself a moment of self-pity before you make a fist and hit it to your palm. This is actually perfect– an opportunity to put your plan into action without any super-significant-other meddling. You are going to get right to it–

–your stomach grumbles–

–after dinner.

They come back in two days, so it’s a good thing you decided not to procrastinate on your Secret Plan. The mission was quick and neither of them are injured, but they are obviously exhausted, so you cajole them into taking a nap. Steve is tired enough he does as he’s told, dragging a slightly more suspicious Bucky with him. But Bucky is just as tired, so you blow them both a kiss and, once the door is shut and you hear no more moving, you rush to your little box of supplies and start setting everything up.

When they come out for dinner the candles are all set, the food is almost ready, and your two super soldiers take a moment to fully wake up from their nap and appreciate the nice romantic table you’ve put together.

Steve clears his throat and leans in to straighten one of the candles that had tilted maybe a little worryingly to the side. “Oh, oops; good catch,” you say and put down their two plates. “Steve, come be helpful and grab the wine glasses.”

“Really going all out to welcome us home,” Bucky says, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Yeah sure, that’s what it is,” you say, smiling too hard to sell it, and you all but drag Steve into the kitchen where you promptly shove a little box into his hand, and mouth, ‘Wait.’

His eyes light up, but he grins too and nods, and takes the wine glasses and the bottle out to the table while you grab the last plate and go to take your seat. Bucky looks even more suspicious, definitely not helped by how Steve is the absolute worst at keeping a straight face, but you ignore your husband in favor of the modest but still delicious meal you made. “You’re probably starving.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says warily, not even attempting to grab his fork. “Don’t take this the wrong way but– what are you up to?”

You don’t answer, and instead take a bite. In all honestly though it’s hard to focus on the food– you’re very excited for this, and when Bucky keeps staring at you, you think…fuck it. It’s time to put him at ease, one way or another.

So you stand up, walk over to him, get down on one knee, pull out the box, and open it. “Bucky,” you say. “We can’t get married before God and law but…fuck ‘em. I love you just as much as I love Steve and if this is only legit to us then that’s all that matters. So, James Buchanan Barnes, second love of my life but not the secondary love of my life, will you marry me according to the law of this house– coincidentally my law– and be my top-secret husband?”

Bucky considers you with a serious face that looks close to cracking. “Will you promise to unassign “Secret Agent Man” as my theme song?”

“Absolutely not,” you say. “But when I sing it the lyrics will be changed to reflect your new status as ‘secret husband man.’”

Steve breaks, laughing and leaning on the table for support. Bucky even cracks a smile, but you try to stay neutral, to let him know you’re (mostly) serious. His eyes soften like he knows. Of course he knows– he knows you just like Steve does, by now. “Well how can I resist an offer like that?” he asks and holds out his hand for you to put on the ring.

You try to take your time, so that Steve can get over his sudden burst of amusement, but he’s still chuckling when you take your seat again. You take your wine glass and give Bucky a sympathetic look. “I wish I could tell you Steve’s proposal to me was more romantic, but it really wasn’t.”

Steve stops laughing then. “Hey…you aren’t seriously going to tell that story to everyone are you?”

You take a moment to consider. “Well, I guess orgasms can be romantic.”

Steve hides his head and Bucky laughs loudly. “Stevie you fucking cheat,” Bucky says with a wide grin and admiration in his voice.

“That wasn’t the real proposal!” Steve insists. “The real proposal was the next morning. That was…”

“Steve being unable to keep a secret to save his life,” you supplement. Steve opens his mouth and you wave him silent. “Yeah, yeah; you can work on Bucky’s proposal later. For now, eat. I worked hard on this.”

“I’ll take the orgasm proposal,” Bucky says but takes his own utensils in hand. “Is that a special I can order?”

Steve mutters under his breath and attacks his meal like it’s going to run away. You roll your eyes but get to your food. “Dinner first, then honeymoon.” You take a bite and chew for a few seconds before you swallow and add. “And then cake.”

“The only surprise about this, is that cake is coming last,” Bucky says in amusement and follows suit.

There are so many responses to that. You, a true Hero, refrain in order to at least get through dinner and to the fun stuff without your husband and husband-to-be chucking you out of a window.

You get chucked onto the bed, which is way more fun and makes you laugh as Bucky grins and crawls over you in a way that should be slightly terrifying but is honestly just fucking hot, so that when he’s close enough you grab him by the shirt collar and drag him in for a kiss.

“That never gets old,” Steve murmurs, his mouth quirked in amusement as he settles in next to both of you, but his eyes are intense as he, seemingly content, watches for now. As you break for air, Bucky takes the opportunity to grab the back of Steve’s head and move in for a kiss just as hungry as the one he just gave you.

“It really, really doesn’t,” you say and lick your lips. Bucky’s attention is drawing back to you, as is Steve’s. You pull the shoulder of your shirt aside to show your bra strap and wink at Steve. His eyes go pleasantly wide.

“So we’re really doing the honeymoon, huh?” he asks, a full grin spreading across his face. Bucky looks confused, but intrigued.

“The dress is in no shape to participate, but the rest of it is fine,” you say.

“What’s this?” Bucky asks as you sit up and wrap your arms around him. Mostly to stay up– your core strength is nonexistent.

“Go on Bucky,” Steve says, laying on his side and unbuttoning his pants with one hand. “Make your wife more comfortable.”

Bucky’s eyes shine so bright looking at you that you elect to watch his hands as he starts pulling your shirt up, alternately grazing and dragging his fingers across your skin. “Don’t worry,” you say, lips turned into an expression that feels appropriately devilish. “Your husband won’t keep his hands to himself for long.”

True to form, Steve doesn’t, and soon the three of you are a tangle of limbs and love.

When all is said and done, you’re all in a contented pile.

Except there's one thing missing. You clear your throat. Bucky looks, but Steve doesn’t. You clear your throat again, and this time Steve lifts his head.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” you say and look at Bucky’s one-ring hand and at Steve and at the hand and at Steve and at the hand and at–

“Yeah, what the hell; I thought this was a two-spouse minimum household,” Bucky says. “How am I gonna meet my quota if you hold back on me, Rogers?”

Steve rolls his eyes and flops his hand back on the nightstand which, to you, looks suspiciously empty. “Are you sure, Buck? She’s like a five-in-one special.”

“Nice try,” Bucky says and watches Steve fumble uselessly for a nice ring that isn’t there. “I’ve been putting up with you too long to let you get outta making an honest man of me.”

Steve turns to look and sees the ring isn’t there. You glare at him but he puts his finger up while the loading widget in his brain circles– and then he digs around under his pillow. Bucky waits. You wait. Steve then pulls up his pillows and shoves his arm down the crack between the headboard and the mattress. Bucky shakes with quiet laughter and you gape. “I swear to God if you break my ring, Steven Grant Rogers…”

“The only way it’s getting broken is if it came out of a box of Cracker-Jacks,” he mutters and fishes for it.

“I thought of that but the only Cracker-Jacks I could find had stickers,” you say, not intending to admit to the five different stores you went to and examined thoroughly. You wouldn’t say you’re banned from any of them, but maybe it’s best not to go back to that Wegman’s anymore. At least, not during the night manager’s shift.

Steve stops and looks at you. “Seriously?”

“I thought it would be cute!” You cock your head at him. “Also how long have you known me that you’re still asking that?”

He grins and leans over to give you a kiss– and then props himself up on one arm as he gives Bucky a sweet smile, holding up the (slightly dusty) box. “Hey jerk.”

Bucky snorts. “Hey punk.”

Steve breaks out the soulful eyes and opens the box. “Marry me?”

You snicker to yourself and Bucky sighs as though put upon, but he holds out his hand and Steve slides the ring on. Right on top of yours. “Knew I was stuck with you when you tried to shove me and ended up right on your ass,” he says and kisses Steve. “Yes.”

The next morning you put down the silverware, stick Cracker-Jack stickers on their cheeks, and you all go on in your lives– as husband, husband, and wife.

~The End~

~Omake~

“Wait.” Bucky looks at the rings, then at you. “How did you get my measurements?”

You smile sweetly.

Steve stares at you, and sighs. “Did you have Natasha break in again?”

“No.” They stare at you. “Really!” More staring. “…Maybe.” They glare at you. “It’s Russian Spy Enrichment!” You throw up your hands. “God forbid I help out my friends.”

Both of them groan. It’s okay– as far as you’re concerned, they’re stuck with you.

~ The End (for real!)~

#steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #captain america reader insert #avengers reader insert

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citrus-soju · 9 months ago

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𝙈𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

✧ He does not "date". He never has, and never will, unless it's part of a grand scheme. There has never been a person in his life who meant anything to him – besides his brother – and he can't bring himself to view other human beings as anything else but animals. Food. Objects even. Maybe it would be different if he had ever experienced real romantic feelings towards another person, or if he had been raised in a safe environment. There have been times in his youth, particularly his teenage years, where he wished to fall in love. But he very quickly understood that he was simply not able to view other human beings as anything but beneath him. Now, several decades later, it seems too late to even start thinking about it again.

✧ If he ever dated someone, it would be to gain something out of it. Either he'd use that person to get close to a target, or he'd take on a false identity and date somebody to keep up the appearance. It wouldn't be a good experience for him, though. It would be more like he's doing an unpleasant part of his job. He'd silently do whatever his partner wished for, without a hint of emotion on his face, in an attempt to keep things as calm as possible and to steer any attention away from him. Ironically, that makes him a surprisingly good partner, since he helps in the household unprompted, doesn't pick fights, and even helps with the cooking if needed.

✧ Everything is fine, as long as it's just to keep up the appearance. But as soon as his "partner" wants to touch him, kiss him, cuddle or anything like this, he reacts very negatively to it. He verbally turns them down, once, maybe twice. The third time, he grabs their wrist and pushes them away. And the fourth time, they might lose some fingers so they can never touch him against his will again. Respect his boundaries and you're good to go. He will eventually start doing these things all by himself if you give him lots of time and lots of space. The less you question or push him, the more interesting you become to him.

✧ He will reach a point where he becomes concerned when you're not home at the usual time. He will notice when you don't eat your food, and when you don't try to join him in bed. Though he doesn't confront you or anything, he keeps a close eye on you, just to make sure he's still doing the right things. He memorized everything you want from him at this point, and he's basically a flawless partner - except for the lack of actual warmth between you. He gives you half hearted compliments. Brings flowers and snacks. He buys you anything you ask for. But it's all part of the job. Or is it? What's that weird feeling in his chest when you smile at him?

✧ Every once in a while, he loses control over his urges. He needs to kill. He can't go for too long without it. Either he does an amazing job at hiding it for a long time and someday disappears without a trace, or you end up dead one day when you discover his identity. If only it could be different. At some point, he'd start tolerating your touch. Tolerating your gentleness. He would never actually enjoy it without a large amount of discomfort and anxiety in his chest. But you'd get closer to his heart than anyone else ever has. So close that losing you would hurt him.

#metalocalypse #mtl #mtl headcanons #metalocalypse headcanons #metal masked assassin #dethwriting

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collinnmckinley · 1 year ago

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(TW: discussion of kink)

Man that was uh...wtf was that anon.

I think when it comes down to the bottom line regardless of how anyone feels about what your saying (I agree with you) you allowed to say your opinion.

I'm a firm believer of 'dont like don't read' and that you shouldn't comment negatively on someones work unless they ask for it. For fanfiction online is supposed to be simply shared. You haven't tagged (from what I've seen) anything in any of the x reader tags, you haven't gone on to other people's posts and complained, you havent blazed anything, you haven't named/shamed any blogs by name. None of what your saying is truly oppressive or bigotry. You have simply vented in the safety of your own posts. For someone to get mad about that? They have no real right. It's not fair. It's so entitled, if you can't vent here then where can you?

In terms of your argument, as someone who is more into kinks, even enjoying the odd CNC piece, I believe your totally right in what you say and the way your feeling is so reasonable.

The COD fandom wouldn't last a day in the real world. What fustrates me with all this fanficiton is not only is it out of character but everything's written and encouraging bad BDSM behaviour. Like NO ONE does BDSM like this.

There's no discussion of boundaries, theres no aftercare description, there's no love and care in these fics. BDSM is supposed to be a performance, it's ultimately light hearted and supposed to be enjoyable to both parties. It's playing around with your partner because that's what sex is supposed to be, fun.

The shit these people right is so obviously not right. It's directly the shit you see in high production porn, something that is always made to look good. Not to feel good. This stuff is all just normalised toxic and unhealthy relationships. What concerns me is with the forever younger generations, if this is the normality then what will they be like in an actual relationship? It effects their every day interactions too! Blatenly calling people daddy / mommy in mid day- that whole 'mommy- sorry- mommy- sorry...' tiktok trend is a perfect example of it. That shits embarrassing! It's uncomfortable and removes the whole part of 'concent' in the entirety of kink.

Forgive me that I go a little off topic but I firmly believe that this behaviour is part of a bigger picture. It shows the fandom interactions that dictate day to day life. The way that people talk to the actors, interact with the actors and voice actors in the game shows how fucked up this all is. There's no line between fan and artist. When it came to fanfiction in history there's always been that line. The shame, fear even, that always kept fandom seperate. Sure sometimes people would say what pairing or sexuality to the creator but nothing like we have today. For them to literally have to turn off chat because of what people are saying in a live stream is terrible! And I think it is directly linked to how normal and casual people online have become about these sort of things.

In terms of wanting to be degraded and CNC the entire thing is supposed to fantasy created in a safe environment. Sometimes it's not exactly something that someone can explain why, or go into the whole situation of mixing pain / pleasure. Yet people have lost that integral piece of the puzzle. It's fustrating and you don't have sex like that every single time?? They treat the most hardcore shit as your average Tuesday missing the preparation and communication that goes on.

To be honest, I'm probably one of the writers in the r6s that you dislike, I can't say I believe that I write either COD or R6S fully in character, even so, I can't imagie looking at COD characters and reducing them to this lack of safety careless playthings. People look a Price and, well, you can never tell someone sexual preferences but, they look at him and are like 'ah yes this man would have no regards to ones sexual safety' like ?????

When hes about to torture the butcher he makes is to clear for not only Gaz's boundaries but for Nik's aswell. No strings attached, their word is final and it's something I really appreciated as a player as well.

This man is constantly in danger having to deal with violence and torture and then people exspect him to come home and do what? The same thing on his partner? I can't imagine it, I genuinely don't think this man could stomach hurting his partner even in a safe BDSM way. It's the same with all these men in the military, why would they want to bring that home?

I'm not into König but I have played as him on the odd occasion in game and you can sort of get a feel for his personality. The shit people write about him is so incredibly out of character even with how little is defined by him. This man is the most nerdy character in the game. He so gives off the vibes that he's a massive gremlin with his voice lines and people look at that and are like 'ah yes he would treat me bad' Pardon me? He would have a fucking mental breakdown if he hurt his s/o.

Even Graves, the bastard he is, wouldn't do any of this shit. Sure he betrayed 141 but you can still tell he cares about his team, one of the things that makes him and the shadows such a compelling and enjoyable antagonist, is that he feels so human and realistic. When he starts to lose it and shout at them in Las Almas, you can tell he regrets it. You can tell in his voice that he's trying to keep it together and stay as that fun casual commander thing he has going on.

Admittedly I've used him for plot before but the people who hardcore simp for this man, how could you look at someone like that and thing he would rule the bedroom with an iron fist? The man who gets his employees to say 'yup-yup' instead of affirmative.

As someone who does write and does strive to make people as in character as possible, (admittedly with varing results) I just don't understand how people can go so far fetched. Whenever I've been given an prompt or whatever I'm constantly looking at intrections and lore that back up characters. A lot of stuff so many characters just wouldn't do. Daddy kink is the bane of my existence. Not because I don't enjoy it but because people assign it to everyone and in all honesty? Ive literally never met a man who's into it. Same with mommy.

In terms of characters across all the games I've played I think there's like maybe one character who I genuinely thought might be into it and that was Pagan Min from Farcry 4. Maybe Damon Salvatore from the Vampire Diaries.

Yeah you can never tell someones sexual preferences or what they do in the bedroom but you can at least try. Have lore or reasoning to back up your reasoning. Not this cluster fuck of general unhealthy, unrealistic glorified BDSM. It baffles me that people think that these characters would be even remotely comfortable with some of the stuff people wrote them to do.

What's the point of simping over a character if you're not actually wanting to be with the character?

At the bottom line, tiktok (and modern internet in general (it wasn't this bad until tiktok but it has been getting worse over the years)) has shown a bunch of adolescent people pictures of the COD characters. With the easy access and desensitization of kink this has created the effect we have today. I don't actually think any of the people who write this shit actually care about the characters. Their playing with the characters like dolls. A name and a face to an oc personality they have created in their head. Or even just taking tropes of people and applying them.

Your fustration is responsible and the way your expressing it is responsible aswell. This is your space. Your not hurting anyone, in fact your ability to recognise and create commentary on today's fandom scene is a positive rather than a negative.

Welp, there it is. You read it again. I dont think I actually need to say anything or reply to it. Everything has already been said in this ask can actually convey what I have been trying to say the past two days, what we have been trying to discuss the past two days. detailed and well put like a thread. I'm gonna tag COD so people can actually read and educate themselves about this matter and that it should not be taken lightly.

#jay answers #anonymous #call of duty #cod #i dont know why people are so stubborn on trying to be so right about this matter #just take the L and move on

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mariacallous · 9 months ago

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In late 2022, historian and Foreign Policy columnist Adam Tooze captured the zeitgeist when he wrote that the world is in the midst of a “polycrisis”—a time when “the shocks are disparate, but they interact so that the whole is even more overwhelming than the sum of the parts.”

History is littered with such periods. Some we remember because they preceded revolutionary change. Others are less well known because revolutionary change did not occur, even if those who lived through them experienced great upheaval; these periods, to paraphrase the British historian G.M. Trevelyan, are turning points at which history fails to turn.

1848—the year to which Trevelyan was referring—is one such failed turning point. Although that year saw political tumult across Europe, it does not receive as much attention as junctures such as 1789 or 1945. Yet as historian Christopher Clark’s magisterial Revolutionary Spring: Europe Aflame and the Fight for a New World, 1848-1849 makes clear, the long-term consequences of that year were profound.

His book serves as a reminder that if we want to understand why some periods of (poly)crisis lead to change, while others do not, it is every bit as important to closely examine the periods when history fails to turn.

Revolutionary Spring is a history lover’s history book—832 pages (including footnotes) full of details that illuminate the long-term trends that made revolution possible.

The first of these trends was economic development. In the decades preceding 1848, industrialization transformed Europe. Yet the benefits of economic growth were unevenly distributed, and those who benefited least from it lacked basic political rights. Artisans, craftsmen, and shopkeepers saw their status and incomes decline. The poor and workers suffered, as living conditions in new cities were abominable and working conditions despotic. Peasants, by far the largest group in European societies, came under immense strain: Commercial farming encouraged the enclosure and privatization of the common lands that they depended on; they did not have access to the new farming techniques and technology used by large farmers; and, especially in Eastern Europe, many nobles retained feudal privileges.

On its own, lower-class discontent is not enough to lead to revolution. As Clark writes, poverty is “more likely to render people ‘speechless’ and inactive than to drive them to concerted action.” If there were a direct link between suffering and revolution, the places where material conditions were the worst would have seen the greatest uprisings in 1848—but that did not happen.

Instead, Clark argues, revolution is more often the result of broad, cross-class discontent with the reigning order. And this began to emerge in the run-up to 1848. Although the European middle class was relatively small, economic development was increasing its size and wealth. Middle-class discontent stemmed less from economic concerns than political and social ones. At its top levels, businessmen and financiers were amassing fortunes that rivaled those of landed elites. Meanwhile, growing numbers of professionals, merchants, and white-collar workers were becoming more prosperous, educated, and informed. However, in much of Europe, members of these groups lacked the right to vote and were excluded from prestigious government and social positions.

Growing nationalism also fed widespread discontent. This was particularly disruptive in the empires of Central and Eastern Europe, where state boundaries did not coincide with ethnic, religious, and linguistic ones. Demands for autonomy, or even independence, in those places—most notably in present-day Hungary, but also in the lands that would become Czechoslovakia and among various Slavic peoples—threatened dramatic changes to the status quo.

By the 1840s, there was a sense across Europe that the “political horizon was dark,” as Clark describes the observations of one Belgian radical, and that “[n]either nations nor governments knew where they were going.” But even with the polycrisis created by long-term developments, revolution was still not inevitable. As Clark writes, revolutions emerge in two phases: gradually and then suddenly. In the case of 1848, two major triggers finally sparked revolution.

The first was economic crisis. Beginning in 1845, a series of bad harvests hit Europe. The failure of the potato crop across much of Europe was particularly devastating, and these crop failures were accompanied by an economic recession and financial panic. Together, these brought food shortages and even famine to some places, worst of all in Ireland.

The second trigger came in February 1848, when French workers as well as members of the middle class rose up in revolt against an increasingly autocratic king, Louis Philippe, and his prime minister, François Guizot. This led to the collapse of the reigning July Monarchy and the subsequent formation of the Second French Republic. As Klemens von Metternich, then-chancellor of the Austrian Empire, famously noted a decade earlier, “when France sneezes, Europe catches a cold.”

Despite the lack of social media, television, radio, or even widespread literacy, within weeks of the February revolution, massive uprisings broke out across Europe. Regimes that had seemed secure fell or were forced to make concessions that had hitherto been unimaginable. As Clark writes, “upheaval spread like a brush fire across the continent, leaping from city to city.” Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Munich, Milan, Venice, and other European cities all experienced what to contemporaries, at least, seemed to be the beginnings of revolution.

Contemporaries were overwhelmed and overjoyed. One German radical wrote, “I had to go out into the winter cold and walk and walk until I had worn myself out just to calm my blood and slow down the beating of my heart, which was in a state of unprecedented and baffled agitation and felt as if it were about to blow a hole in my chest.”

Yet within 18 months, monarchical dictatorships returned to all the areas of Europe that they had been driven out of in the spring of 1848.

As Revolutionary Spring makes clear, perhaps the most important reason for Europe’s failure to turn was the weakness of opposition movements. These movements were united by a desire to get rid of the old order but lacked any consensus on how to build a new one. Almost as soon as the old order collapsed, deep divisions within opposition movements came to the fore.

Members of the middle class generally wanted a liberal order, but not a fully democratic one, to replace the old one. They sought a political order they could participate in—and that did not grant the nobility special privileges—but they also rejected workers’ demands for universal suffrage and significant economic and social reforms. Peasants were less interested in political reform than in protecting their property or securing it via the abolition of feudal privileges and landholding in places where they still existed, including much of Eastern Europe.

Influenced by the memory of the 18th-century French Revolution, monarchs rapidly gave in to the more moderate demands in 1848—for example, by agreeing to establish constitutions and eliminate many feudal privileges—and thereby largely satisfied liberals and the peasantry. These changes did not, however, appease workers and radicals. These groups continued to riot and organize in an attempt to secure not only full democratization, but also significant economic and social reforms, such as minimum wages, price controls, and the right to work.

These demands, along with the emergence of the working class as a political actor, are the reason that scholars consider 1848 to be the birthdate of the modern socialist movement. It was in 1848, of course, that Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels’ The Communist Manifesto was published with its famous first line: “A spectre is haunting Europe—the spectre of communism.”

The demands of the working class and radicals frightened liberals and much of the middle class. By the summer of 1848, Clark writes, liberals had a deep fear of the “lower orders” and “subaltern violence,” and they “saw themselves locked in a zero-sum conflict with an enemy that represented the absolute negation of the social order.” This fear, he writes, “paralysed the revolution in its later stages” and drove liberals back into the arms of conservatives.

Nationalist disputes also weakened opposition movements. In the Austrian Empire, various ethnic and linguistic groups that had been united in opposition to the old order began fighting among themselves. Germans and Czechs clashed over their relationship to each other and the emerging movement for German unity. Soon after the emperor granted Hungary significant autonomy, conflict broke out between the country’s dominant Magyars and its other groups, since the Magyars were unwilling to provide them with greater autonomy. Poles also dismissed the demands of minorities. (As Clark cleverly puts it, “like many Nationalists, the Poles were primordialists when it came to their own nation and constructivists when it came to the claims of others to the same terrain.”) And attempts by Slavic groups to demand rights and autonomy were met with fury by Germans and Hungarians who viewed them as “a sinister conspiratorial operation to prepare the ground for a Russian pan-Slavist hegemony in Eastern Europe.”

Across Europe, political, socioeconomic, and national conflicts ripped apart opposition movements, enabling counterrevolutions that rolled back the revolutionary wave of 1848. By the early 1850s, monarchs and conservatives were back in power—and aspirations of national autonomy in Central and Eastern Europe, as well as hopes for Italian and German unification, were crushed.

Yet the Europe that emerged from the ashes of 1848 was not the same Europe that existed before. Some reforms instituted that year were not repealed—notably, the abolition of serfdom and other feudal privileges, including the right to collect dues, avoid certain taxes, and monopolize some political and military offices in Austria, Prussia, and other lands in central and southeastern Europe.

This marked the beginning of the end of the politics of tradition and a society of orders and eliminated major hindrances to capitalist development in parts of Europe. The end of the nobility’s privileges gradually enabled members of the emerging middle classes and wealthy businessmen to hold positions of power in government and the military. It also enabled the expansion of land ownership, as peasants gained access to private property and control over the goods that they produced for the first time.

The monarchs, dictators, and conservatives who returned to power after 1848 understood that if they wanted to avoid another conflagration, they would have to rule differently. Most of them accepted that a constitutional rather than absolutist monarchy was the wave of the future. King Friedrich Wilhelm IV made Prussia a constitutional state that year (though a much less liberal one than revolutionaries had proposed). Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph soon began a cautious reform program, and in 1860, he agreed to form a constitution and parliament. In France, monarchy disappeared forever—and though it was not democratic, Napoleon III’s regime rested at least in part on popular consent.

1848 was also the first time that some parts of Europe experienced popular mobilization, an open public sphere, parliaments, and elections, as well as freedom of the press, assembly, and association. Many of the political organizations, civil society associations, and publications that were established that year remained in the decades to come.

The problems and grievances that caused Europe to explode in 1848 would continue to propel European politics in the years that followed. These included the struggle between monarchy and democracy; the working class’s fight for political, social, and economic change; and the tensions that drove desires to reorganize existing states, such as the Austrian Empire, and form new ones, such as Italy and Germany.

Over time, the painful process of addressing these issues would indeed revolutionize Europe, leading to two world wars and political turmoil during the interwar years—but also eventually to the spread of democracy, the formation of welfare states, the collapse of empires, and the emergence of new nation-states. Although revolutions may seem to happen all at once, 1848 proved that their consequences may only gradually appear.

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satorisa · 1 year ago

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To Infinity, Forever

Rating: T Summary: Detailed herein is the story of Dark Mousy’s one and only posthumous heist in which he, equipped only with a love that refuses to die, tries to steal a love that will continue to grow today, tomorrow, and in the future beyond. Ad infinitum. Alternate Reading: AO3

Inspired by a tumblr post (that I can no longer find but do have a screenshot of) created by @riewritten that is transcribed as follows:

"why am I thinking of a potential hurt/comfort and tooth-rotting fluff fanfic where grown up satoshi and risa is in an established relationship

but since satoshi can still remember dark, as well as risa's unwavering love for him way back, he still couldn't come to terms with the fact that the risa right now actually loves him to the core

then there comes subtle gestures from risa implying that 'the me right now will be choosing you under any circumstances, no matter what. that'd shake satoshi to the core bc 'does she have any idea of my current concerns or is she just doing this subconsciously'

then later on, satoshi realizes that the 14 y/o risa already hidden in her deepest depths of consciousness - the one who had this love for dark but wasnt allowed to remember it - was also trying to assure him somehow that she also chooses him this time around, and that he has nothing to worry about but stay with her."

Hope you enjoy, dear~

Their reunion at that group date in New York City could only be described as serendipity.

After Dark’s disappearance, Risa and Satoshi’s relationship never developed beyond being friends of friends; they naturally went their separate ways after graduating from high school. And yet they applied for grad school in the same city: a decision that landed them both mere kilometers from each other where, on top of their professional obligations, Risa dated a slew of terrible guys while Satoshi continued to turn down anyone interested in him.

Risa’s friends urged her to go on a group date to potentially break her streak of awful dates and ex-boyfriends, and Satoshi’s friends urged him to go just to humor them this once. The two of them gave in, eventually, and were surprised to see each other on what they thought would be yet another forgettable evening.

They exchanged their new contact information after the mixer, finding comfort in knowing someone from home, someone from before their life in New York City, amongst the sea of people. At their first meeting, fueled by a yearning for familiarity in a foreign land, they learned that they enjoyed each other’s company. And, as they spent more time together, Risa began to fall for Satoshi’s kindness after the parade of garbage men in her life (and the fact that he had become more toned since their high school graduation—oh mama), and Satoshi began to fall for Risa’s thoughtfulness regarding his feelings and boundaries that those who previously tried to pursue him lacked (and the fact that she had, somehow, only gotten prettier since their high school graduation—my word).

It took a visit to the MET, and unconsciously holding each other’s hand while admiring Claude Monet’s Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies, for them to begin dating.

And, surprisingly, their relationship flourished. They squabbled every once in a while, as usual in a relationship, but they always made up before retiring for the day. Despite their busy schedules, with her pursuing a PhD in East Asian Studies and him pursuing a PhD in History of Art and Archaeology, they carved time for each other, whether it was working on their own thing at a coffee shop or crying in the bathroom at four in the morning because grad school can go suck its own dick.

But there was one thing that Risa, unconsciously, would always remind Satoshi of:

The lingering remnants of Dark Mousy.

…

He didn’t think much about Risa’s obsession with all things Korean; after the Hallyu boom, such fascination became the norm. She never forced him to engage with it, but he knew that she loved indulging in the overly-produced music scene or modern rom-coms with increasingly ridiculous premises in the peripheries of their shared experiences.

One time, however, he had come over to her place, wanting her company while he read through some research papers, before they had dinner that evening. He arrived at her apartment, backpack slung over his shoulder, to hear music blasting from her TV.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hey,” he returned, taking off his shoes once he stepped inside.

“I’m cleaning up right now, so it’s gonna be a little noisy. Do you mind?”

Satoshi motioned towards his bag. “I’ve got my headphones if I need them.”

“Just to block out the noise?”

“Just to block out the noise.”

She shook her head with a smile. “Just use earplugs, you weirdo.”

He came into the living room and sat down at her coffee table, placing his bag on the floor next to him. Satoshi glanced at the men dancing on the TV, spotting someone who looked nearly identical to Dark Mousy, before Risa turned it off.

His heart fell.

“You didn’t have to turn it off,” he told her, hoping that vocalizing the sensible reaction to the current situation would calm him.

“Nah.” She motioned towards the countertop. “I have headphones, too. And I use them, yanno, like normal people. To listen to music.”

“Whatever.”

She laughed, returning to the kitchen while he got out his laptop. He watched Risa wash the dishes while it booted up.

“Who were they?” he asked.

“The group I was listening to earlier?”

“Yeah.”

Risa lit up, putting down the mug and sponge in her hands, before rushing towards him. She knelt beside him with her phone in hand, eager to share this with her boyfriend.

“They’re this group called ‘Black Wings!’” she said. “They just debuted this year and, oh my god, they’re so good.”

“You have a bias?”

“Of course! Hold on.” She tilted her phone back towards her, fingers quickly moving before showing Satoshi the screen again. “This is him!”

He looked almost exactly like Dark with the purple-black hair, the mullet-esque haircut uncommon in the K-pop realm, and those chiseled facial features. Somehow, despite the time that had passed and the memories that she had lost, Risa was still holding onto some semblance of her first love. Satoshi knew, logically, that she most certainly loved him more than that accursed phantom thief, but Risa fawning over this uncanny look-a-like disturbed him.

“You like guys like that?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “Doesn’t help that most of them are assholes, though.”

“Yet somehow you ended up dating someone with the aesthetic of a college professor.”

She kissed him on the cheek before hopping back up and returning to the sink. “Because you’re the shining light in the darkness of my dating life. And you’re just as hot, if not hotter, than them! We could totally give you a makeover and—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Boo! You’re no fun.”

…

The next time she was unconsciously reminded of Dark Mousy was on their way to a Broadway show. They passed through Times Square so Risa could indulge in the noisy tourist attraction, taking photos of them that she would post on social media later that evening.

They were holding hands the whole time, partly because it was cold, partly because Satoshi didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, and partly because Risa loved holding hand. But, while he was engrossed in the ads on the screens surrounding them, he felt her grip slack.

Something entranced her.

He followed her gaze to see someone who vaguely resembled Dark Mousy chatting with someone who vaguely resembled Krad, and he could only respond to such a mocking sight with a bitter laugh. Risa was too focused to notice Satoshi’s discomfort.

It took a crying child to snap her out of it.

She then began to march towards Broadway, tugging him along while talking about her excitement for the show. He squeezed her hand, partly because it was cold, partly because Satoshi didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, partly because Risa loved holding his hand, and partly because he was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to overcome Dark’s imprint on her.

…

Satoshi began to have nightmares of him, Risa, and Dark.

Each one started differently, taking place in a myriad of settings, before converging to the same ending: Dark and Risa, holding hands with their backs towards him, as they disappeared from his line of sight.

Goddammit.

…

They encountered another doppelganger at the restaurant they ate at for their one-year anniversary. Their waiter came by, flashing Risa a stunning smile while he poured their wine into crystal flutes. She wasn’t as distracted as she was in Times Square because they had food and wine to reel her back in, but her eyes would always trail towards the waiter in the lulls of their conversation, punctuated by a contented sigh before she jumped back in with the same energy as before.

The look in her eyes haunted him on the way back to his apartment, as he made love to her, as she slept cuddled up next to him. Satoshi knew he didn’t have to compete with a first love that no longer existed in her life, in all the senses, and that it was hard to override the precedent set by said first love, but that niggling fear that Risa was only using him to soothe that phantom pain only grew louder each time he noticed.

He was far from Risa’s type both then and now. They only began dating because of sheer luck and impeccable timing. Any moment sooner, any moment later, and he knew that this serendipitous meeting would’ve never happened.

Slipping out of bed, he went outside for a smoke.

How pathetic was he for something like this to eat him up?

…

Despite Satoshi’s kindness and genuine empathy for the world around him, he was surprisingly closed off. While Risa learned a lot about him before he asked her out, he never divulged anything particularly personal. He had anecdotes and advice for anything and everything, but it was rare for him to share any thoughts or emotions about how it related to him.

He had a way to foster a sense of closeness with someone despite being so distant.

And Risa was excited to see how dating him would change that.

Satoshi’s true thoughts and emotions rarely surfaced in their day-to-day. Their daily interactions had clear indicators of their intimate relationship, such as their playful banters or their unconscious physical touches, but he maintained that casual familiarity while the sun was up.

She only became privy to his inner world during either intimate conversations, brought upon by late-night fatigue, drunken courage, or the general afterglow of sex, or crises in both his personal and professional lives. With everything she gleaned, she learned how to accommodate, to challenge, to adapt to him, just as he did to her, and she believed that their stark differences in most everything in their lives were but a footnote to how committed they were to each other.

Which is how she noticed when that distance began to return to their relationship.

She remembered the night in his apartment after their one-year anniversary dinner. He left the bed in the middle of the night and, despite his best efforts, returned smelling faintly of tobacco.

He only ever smoked when something bothered him.

It was a bad habit he picked up while working in Japan before coming stateside. That and heavy drinking.

She could usually pinpoint the reason why he would need a smoke: unable to get funding for his department, his PI rejecting this dissertation topic for the umpteenth time, the time he and Risa nearly broke up and so on. But she didn’t know what was bothering him this time.

And she knew that she couldn’t force it out of him either. He only shared his struggles with her when he was ready to, on his own terms, and never before that unless it was an extremely heated conversation.

So, when he returned to the bed, she wrapped her arms around him.

“I love you,” she lazily whispered.

“…I love you, too.”

And he hugged her, tighter than usual, before they drifted back to sleep.

…

Risa had a bad habit of zoning out around people. So many thoughts raced through her mind, both relevant and irrelevant to the conversations at hand, that she needed a pause to make sense of them before she could speak again. Either that or an attractive guy rendered her speechless.

Thankfully, it was a habit she mostly fell out of once she began to date Satoshi, but she still spaced out whenever she saw men that checked off features from an extremely specific list. They were always tall and lean, sporting a charismatic smile (if she saw it) and long, dark hair. For whatever reason, this specific combination always made her feel nostalgic yet wistful, and, oddly enough, conjured an image of black, feathered wings in her mind.

Her friends joked around about her getting tired of Satoshi whenever a guy caught her attention while they were out. And, while Satoshi didn’t seem to mind it all at first, asking if she had spotted a bias look-a-like or someone from the K-pop groups she followed, she noticed how his face began to fall in her peripheries whenever she’d snap out of it.

And then it happened during what was supposed to be a fun trip to the Strand.

Risa needed to stock up on some stationary while Satoshi wanted to browse the selection, hoping to add a couple of books to his ever-growing library. Pleased with the journals and pen she found, she weaved through the shelves to find Satoshi. She eventually spotted him with his nose in a book.

But she also saw someone who matched that dangerously specific set of criteria right behind Satoshi.

The image of black wings flashed in her mind, and those confusing feelings washed over her. And when she was able to break out of it, reminding herself that her boyfriend was a bookshelf away, she met Satoshi’s gaze.

He stood there, petrified, book still open in his hands. His eyes were wide, and his face was paler than usual.

Risa trudged through the quagmire of guilt as she scurried towards him, pulling him into an embrace. She dug her face into his chest, hearing his heartbeat, smelling the detergent and cologne on his clothes. He returned her hug as he rubbed her back with his free hand.

“Are you alright?” she whispered.

“I am,” he answered, his voice rumbling through her head. “Did you see another guy who looked like your bias?”

“He didn’t look like my bias,” she replied. “There’s just…something about the way he looked.”

“Because he’s your type?”

“Well, yes but…” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. You probably hate it, don’t you?”

He shot her a smile to reassure her, but she could tell it was forced. “It’s not that I hate it. It’s a lot more complicated than that. Probably just as complicated as it is for you, right?”

She always wondered how he just knew things like this. How, even when they were experiencing any form of disconnect, he was always able to tie them back together. Validating her feelings when she couldn’t validate his. Seeing through whatever act she had put on that day because he didn’t want her to hide her true feelings from him, positive or not.

Risa nuzzled her head back into his chest. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

And while she knew that he did, she heard the trepidation in his voice.

…

Both Risa and Satoshi began to spend more time at the other’s place than in their own apartments, alternating depending on their schedules that week. They were learning how to spend longer periods of time with each other, adapting to their partner’s living style, before they took the plunge into living together.

(It was something they wanted to rush into considering the price of rent in New York City, but they both knew they needed to acclimate to living together first. As appealing as the idea of cheaper rent was, they wanted to ensure that their domestic disagreements wouldn’t break their relationship.)

And so Risa had become acquainted to the silence in Satoshi’s apartment that amplified the noises of the city. And Satoshi had adapted to the constant stream of K-pop from Risa’s television.

Risa turned it on the moment she woke up, humming to the songs as she went about her business, and only turned it off before she had to leave or go to bed. She loved having it on as background noise and, even after Satoshi began to spend more time over at her apartment, she still kept it on because her boyfriend tended to keep to himself.

Somehow, she managed to get him to tolerate most of the music that she had on. She couldn’t sway him to liking visuals of their music videos, the looks of the idol members, or the quality of their choreography, but he came around to enjoying how the music sounded even if he didn’t understand it.

However, while he mostly blocked out the television whenever he was ever in the living room, she noticed that he would always watch Black Wing’s music videos. He knew immediately which songs were theirs due to the frequency that she played them, but he would always, for the three to five minutes they were on, give the television his undivided attention before returning to whatever he was doing.

And, after the incident at the Strand, she found it concerning.

The day after their date, she was at home doing chores while Satoshi worked on his research at the low table with printed copies of papers and textbooks, highlighted and annotated, radiating from where he sat. He had gotten into the habit of not using his headphones anymore, in case Risa had something to tell him, and his head had shot up immediately once Black Wings was on.

She stopped what she was doing before sitting down on the sofa behind him.

“Do you like them?” Risa asked.

“Not really.”

“But you’re always watching their videos.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re doing it right now.”

He turned around to look at her, and she prepared herself for a smirk and a quip. All Satoshi did, however, was meet her gaze.

“Why do you like Bam out of all of them?”

“Because he’s hot. And my type.”

Satoshi blinked. She expected him to take her answer at face-value before turning back around, but he didn’t. He kept her gaze, almost silently pleading for something.

But what did he want?

“Um, do you actually want to know why?”

“You like him for other reasons?”

Risa nodded as the group’s harmonized vocals filled her living room. “Like he’s super talented, too, right? And there’s just something about his charismatic personality that shines whenever the group’s on reality TV. But, hm, how do I describe this?

“Every time I look at him, I start to feel things. Like, I get giddy, but I also want to cry? And, for whatever reason, I start to think of black wings. Not the group of Black Wings, but an actual pair of black wings, feathered and all. So whenever I see guys that remind of Bam, all that just washes over me?” She sighed. “I don’t know; it’s weird.”

The song ended.

And the expression on Satoshi’s face broke her heart.

He turned around quickly before shutting his laptop. Satoshi shot up.

“I need some time to myself,” he muttered before rushing out the door, slamming it behind him.

And she sat there, staring at where he just was, while another upbeat song played from her television.

…

Satoshi returned later that evening to pick up his things before leaving again, citing some excuse about something coming up. She didn’t push him to explain the lie, deciding to give him the space he needed to sort out his emotions.

Risa expected that he would reach out to her within a couple of days. A week at most. But, after the second week of silence from him, she sent him a message before going to his apartment.

He didn’t answer the door when she knocked, but he had given her a spare key so she could let herself in if he wasn’t around. She didn’t want to use it, especially considering where their relationship stood at that moment, but she knew it was safer for her to wait inside.

And if he kicked her out the moment he walked in, then that was that. Their relationship would end because of that unknown demon plaguing Satoshi, and she would have to find a way to get over someone she legitimately wanted to marry one day.

C’est la vie, she supposed. All things had to come to an end one way or another.

“Excuse me,” she whispered, letting herself in. She slipped off her flats, leaving it in the empty spot reserved for her shoes, before walking into the living area.

It was a mess.

Satoshi wasn’t an organized person despite how he presented himself, but he managed to keep his place somewhat tidy if Risa decided to pop in unexpectedly. She tiptoed through piles of books and papers and laundry (whether clean or used, she wasn’t sure), before placing her bag on the countertop.

Risa checked her phone to see if Satoshi had responded to her message, but there was still no reply. She began to clean to pass the time, moving books and papers into cleaner piles based off their topics while she did his laundry.

Midnight had long passed when she finished, and Satoshi still hadn’t returned. He also hadn’t responded to her message. So she stayed up to wait for him, watching dramas on her phone, until sleep finally took her.

…

Risa came to, covered in a blanket, with someone holding her hand.

She leaned over to see Satoshi passed out on the floor, hidden by the other half of the blanket as he held her hand. He frowned before unconsciously tucking himself under the covers.

A smile erupted on Risa’s face, and she squeezed his hand before getting up. She went to the bathroom to tidy up and came out to Satoshi sitting up, eyes squinted, with a pout on his face.

“Why did you leave?” he whined.

“I needed to use the bathroom,” she answered. “When did you come back?”

“Late. Or early?” Satoshi yawned. “I just know the sun was already up.”

“Were you working late?”

“No. I was out with friends. Drinking.” He scrunched his face again. “Shit. My head’s pounding.”

“Well, how much did you drink?”

“A lot.”

She shot him a look. He groaned before climbing onto the sofa, curling up in a ball, and covering himself with the blanket. She chuckled seeing her usually aloof boyfriend act so childish, but this always happened after Satoshi had enough to drink.

(Risa was usually as drunk as Satoshi whenever he got like this. So, instead of watching on in sober amusement, the two of them ended up fawning over each other like lovestruck teenagers.)

“Do you need me to grab anything? To help you sober up?” she asked.

“No. I’ve got instant noodles in the pantry and kimchi in the fridge.”

She recoiled at the combination. “…are you sure?”

“Yeah.” His head poked out of his blanket cocoon. “Can you please prepare the ramen for me?”

“Of course.”

She navigated his kitchen, having made instant noodles for them countless times before. And, while she waited for the pot to boil, she turned around, expecting to see Satoshi tucked back into the blanket.

Instead, she saw him sitting up, looking directly at her with a serious expression on his face, possibly induced by his hangover-induced headache, that was seriously undermined by his ridiculous bed head. Risa cracked a smile.

“Headache’s killing you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “How’ve you been? These past two weeks?”

“Tired. Stressed.” Risa shrugged. “You know, the usual.”

Satoshi kept his gaze trained on her, as if he was expecting her to say something else. She tilted her head in response, nudging him to continue, but he shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “Can you also get me some water?”

“What about coffee?”

“I’d like to hydrate before I dehydrate myself again.”

Risa filled a mug using the filtered water pitcher on his countertop before handing it to him. He chugged half of it, pausing for a breath, before drinking the rest.

“More water? Or is it time for coffee?”

“…I think coffee can wait for now.”

She refilled the pitcher before bringing it to him. He poured himself some more water before downing yet another mug. When she heard the water boil, Risa added the noodles and seasoning to the pot before setting a timer.

“You’re not making any for yourself?” Satoshi asked.

“I just had some yesterday,” she said. “If I have more today, I’m scared it might ruin my physique.”

“Says the woman who ends up eating more than me whenever we share a meal.”

Risa smiled to herself, relieved to hear the joking lilt in Satoshi’s tone. She took some kimchi out from his fridge and cut it into bite-sized pieces. The timer rang when she finished, and she poured the noodles into a bowl before delivering the food to Satoshi.

He slid off the sofa before eating, punctuating his elegant slurps with the crunch of the kimchi. And Risa sat across from him and admired the way her boyfriend, who usually pecked at his food, devoured the meal like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Although, if Risa had to be honest, there was a chance he probably hadn’t eaten a full meal in a while.

Only when Satoshi finished eating did he break the silence.

“Are you not upset over the fact that I haven’t texted you in two weeks?” he asked. “I figured you’d have some pointed words for me when the moment arose.”

“I know I can get like that sometimes, but I can’t do that to you. Not when I’m sure the whole thing’s been just as hard, if not harder, for you as it has been for me,” Risa answered. “I was actually bracing myself for you to break up with me when I came to your apartment last night.”

Risa’s words made him instinctively reach for her hand across the table. His thumb rubbed circles on her skin in a feeble attempt to comfort her.

“What’s wrong, Satoshi?” she asked. “What’s so terrifying for you that you had to leave my apartment like that? That you had to avoid me for this long? That you’re so scared of us talking about it?”

“…do you love me?”

She pulled away from him before looking down at their now disconnected hands. The centimeter between their fingers was painful enough. But if she saw his usual aloof expression on his face after asking such a loaded question, it would kill her.

How could this man, after all the time they spent together, the long nights spent either pouring their hearts out or cuddling or making love, think that she doesn’t love him? This was the man that she could imagine herself getting married to, and yet he didn’t feel the same?

Were his words about their potential future after graduation just empty promises?

“…how could you ask me that?” she said, feeling the tears bead at the corner of her eyes. “Why…are you asking me that?”

“Because of Bam. Because of all the other guys you’ve looked at that momentarily take you away.”

“But I don’t love them!” Risa could no longer contain her shrill voice. “Just because they’re my type and because I find them attractive doesn’t mean that I don’t love you! You’re—”

Risa’s throat constricted in terror, unable to tell him the words that she wanted him to hear. She felt the grip on her sanity slipping. If he dismissed her words of love as just a passing whimsy, hysteria would overtake her.

“…I know why you like guys like that.”

The shock of his words quelled the flurry of her emotions. Risa’s head shot up to face him. Satoshi wasn’t even looking at her.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Remember when I met you at that lamppost all those years ago?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “When you were crying about being unable to remember the person you loved? That person…he looks exactly like your type.”

“How do you know that?”

“Dark Mousy was part of an artwork created by the cursed blood of my ancestors. And when he was sealed away on that fateful day, almost everyone except for a handful of people forgot that he existed—ah, can you hand me that scrap piece of paper and pen?” She did as she was asked. “Thanks.”

Satoshi gingerly took the pen from her hand, careful not to brush against her fingers, before sketching a portrait. And when he finished, despite how rough it looked, Risa’s heart both soared and cried just like it did whenever she saw someone who was her type. How strange it was for something to simultaneously look so familiar and unfamiliar.

“When you were fourteen, you fell in love with this dashingly handsome phantom thief named Dark Mousy, unaware of his true identity. You showered him with your unconditional love, continued to do so despite everything you learned about him, and he eventually reciprocated, falling just as madly in love with you.

“He is your first love.”

A tear rolled down Risa’s face.

She was so overwhelmed with this information, with all those feelings, that it paralyzed her. Satoshi stood up before leaving the peripheries of her view.

“I’ll leave you for a bit to process all that. And, when you’re done, feel free to leave.”

“…where are you going?” she squeaked.

“Out. Don’t wait for me to return.” She heard him slip on his shoes. “If you want to break up with me over this, I completely understand. Take as long as you need to make that decision, alright?” The door swung open. “Goodbye.”

When the door closed behind him, the finality in his farewell hit her. And, only when she was alone in his apartment, did she crumple onto the floor and cry.

…

Satoshi returned to his apartment after yet another long night of drinking with his friends. He abstained from most alcohol this time, unsure if he could contain what occurred earlier were he to get drunk, so he entertained pints of beer until they decided it was time to retire for the day.

Only then did he realize how neat his apartment was.

The piles of laundry that he had no energy to tackle were gone. And his research was piled in neat mounds, out of the way of any foot traffic. He was too preoccupied that morning to even notice what Risa had done for him.

He found a note on the low table, scribbled on the piece of paper that he sketched Dark on.

You’re an idiot and a coward, Satoshi.

I’ve made up my mind. I’ll see you tomorrow to tell you my answer in person.

Risa

Satoshi shook his head.

There was the Risa he knew. However, even he couldn’t tell whether she was joking or being as blunt as she could considering the precarious state of their relationship.

The exhaustion of the day finally caught up with him and Satoshi, one to adhere to his nightly routine, just passed out on the covers of his bed.

…

Satoshi had a dream that night of Risa, at fourteen, standing by that forsaken lamppost. He expected to see her crying, just like she was all those years ago, but she just turned towards him and smiled.

“Why are you crying, Hiwatari-san?” she asked, curious yet kind.

Only then did he feel the warm streak of tears on his cheeks. He stood, frozen, while Risa came up to him and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

“I know it seems like a terrible fate to have forgotten the person you’ve loved to the point that you can’t even put a name or a face to those feelings, but I don’t see it that way. Dark’s a part of my past, and that’s where he’s going to stay. Honestly, it’s a blessing that I have no recollection of him anymore.”

Risa let go of him and wiped the tears from his eyes. “You and I both know how difficult it is to let go of our first loves, but that’s all they were: our first loves. They’re not the people we’re in love with now nor the people we will be love with in the future. I’m still unconsciously holding onto Dark because he’s such an important part of those blindingly beautiful days of my youth. Nothing more.

“But, Satoshi, you’re my present. And I hope that you’ll be my future, so take good care of me, alright?”

Satoshi began to sob, and Risa hugged him once more.

For once, this was a dream that he didn’t want to wake from.

…

Satoshi woke up to banging on his door.

He ignored it, hoping that whoever it was would eventually leave him alone, but the knocks continued. Satoshi got up, anger rising with each step he took to the door, until he swung it open, ready to—it was Risa.

“Are you that upset to see me?” she asked, letting herself in.

“No. Sorry, it’s just—your knocking.”

“Well, someone wasn’t opening up when I was still polite about it,” she sang.

“…I just woke up.”

Risa nodded before plopping down on his sofa. “So, are you ready for my answer?”

“Honestly, I’m a bit scared. You’ll either give me some of the best or worst news I’ve heard in a while, and your current nonchalance is not reassuring in the slightest.”

“Ye of little faith.”

“Do you know how terrifying your cheerfulness can be?”

Her dulcet laugh filled his living room for what may or may not be the last time. And when she finished, she grinned which, unfortunately, was scarier than if she was taking this seriously.

“Marry me, Satoshi.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Well, I was trying to come up with something super romantic that would hopefully let you know how much I love you, but this was all I got. It’s corny and cheesy, right?”

“Risa, you’re not the one who’s supposed to be proposing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Woman have just as much of a right to propose in a relationship as a man does.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but that’s not the issue at hand right now.”

“Then what is?”

“We are far from financially stable to even think of a wedding right now. Completing our dissertations come first. Besides, we don’t even have a ring, so—”

“I know, Satoshi. I know,” she said. “Marriage is so far off that I shouldn’t even be thinking about it right now, but I’m telling you that I want to marry you because I see a future with you. That I love you so much that, right now, I can’t imagine anyone else by my side for the rest of my life. I love you so much more than you think I love that Dark guy, and I will continue to love you as best as I can for as long as I’m alive.

“The official proposal and marriage can wait until we’re ready. But, right now, I’m letting you know that I’m choosing you. I’m choosing you today, and I will continue to choose you tomorrow. Ad infinitum.”

This was playing so similarly to his dream the night before that he couldn’t believe the words coming out of Risa’s mouth. He had to be dreaming.

“Pinch me.”

She complied. Her sharp nails dug into his skin.

“So this isn’t a dream…”

“I’m offended that you thought my sweeping confession was a dream.”

“No, it’s just—I had dream similar to this last night. I wanted to make sure this was reality.”

“You’re just saying that because you think that’s what I want to hear.”

“No, I’m being serious.”

Satoshi took her hands in his. And, feeling the warmth of her skin through his palms, he began to tear up.

“I love you, too, Risa. And, when that times comes, I will get down on one knee with a ring of your liking to ask for your hand in marriage because I don’t want to imagine a future without you by my side. For now, all I can say is that I will continue to choose you today, and I will continue to choose you tomorrow. Ad infinitum.”

Risa pulled Satoshi into a hug, rubbing his back. “If my husband-to-be is already crying telling me how much he loves me now, how will he fare when he has to do it in front of all our loved ones?”

“He will cry just as much, if not more, in front of an audience because he cannot believe he gets to spend the rest of his life with someone like you.”

Their hands cupped their lover’s face. With their eyes locked onto each other, they had the perfect opportunity to seal their love with a kiss. But they didn’t.

Risa beamed, her delight so infectious that Satoshi, with his most content smile, just leaned his forehead on hers while his tears kept falling. She kept tutting about her emotional boyfriend as she giggled and wiped his tears away. That feeling of comfort, of safety, of their physical closeness, of their emotional intimacy, was love.

It was their love.

And it was one of the few things that the infamous phantom thief, Dark Mousy, and the cursed Hikari blood in his veins, couldn’t take from them.

#dnangel #d.n.angel #dn angel #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #satorisa #my writing #my fanfiction

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lesmisscraper · 1 year ago

Text

The reduction of the universe to a single being, the expansion of a single being even to God, that is love.

Love is the salutation of the angels to the stars.

How sad is the soul, when it is sad through love!

What a void in the absence of the being who, by herself alone fills the world! Oh! how true it is that the beloved being becomes God. One could comprehend that God might be jealous of this had not God the Father of all evidently made creation for the soul, and the soul for love.

The glimpse of a smile beneath a white crape bonnet with a lilac curtain is sufficient to cause the soul to enter into the palace of dreams.

God is behind everything, but everything hides God. Things are black, creatures are opaque. To love a being is to render that being transparent.

Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body may be, the soul is on its knees.

Parted lovers beguile absence by a thousand chimerical devices, which possess, however, a reality of their own. They are prevented from seeing each other, they cannot write to each other; they discover a multitude of mysterious means to correspond. They send each other the song of the birds, the perfume of the flowers, the smiles of children, the light of the sun, the sighings of the breeze, the rays of stars, all creation. And why not? All the works of God are made to serve love. Love is sufficiently potent to charge all nature with its messages.

Oh Spring! Thou art a letter that I write to her.

The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds. Love, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite, the inexhaustible is requisite.

Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is a point of fire that exists within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine, and which nothing can extinguish. We feel it burning even to the very marrow of our bones, and we see it beaming in the very depths of heaven.

Oh Love! Adorations! voluptuousness of two minds which understand each other, of two hearts which exchange with each other, of two glances which penetrate each other! You will come to me, will you not, bliss! strolls by twos in the solitudes! Blessed and radiant days! I have sometimes dreamed that from time to time hours detached themselves from the lives of the angels and came here below to traverse the destinies of men.

God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love, except to give them endless duration. After a life of love, an eternity of love is, in fact, an augmentation; but to increase in intensity even the ineffable felicity which love bestows on the soul even in this world, is impossible, even to God. God is the plenitude of heaven; love is the plenitude of man.

You look at a star for two reasons, because it is luminous, and because it is impenetrable. You have beside you a sweeter radiance and a greater mystery, woman.

All of us, whoever we may be, have our respirable beings. We lack air and we stifle. Then we die. To die for lack of love is horrible. Suffocation of the soul.

When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.

On the day when a woman as she passes before you emits light as she walks, you are lost, you love. But one thing remains for you to do: to think of her so intently that she is constrained to think of you.

What love commences can be finished by God alone.

True love is in despair and is enchanted over a glove lost or a handkerchief found, and eternity is required for its devotion and its hopes. It is composed both of the infinitely great and the infinitely little.

If you are a stone, be adamant; if you are a plant, be the sensitive plant; if you are a man, be love.

Nothing suffices for love. We have happiness, we desire paradise; we possess paradise, we desire heaven.

Oh ye who love each other, all this is contained in love. Understand how to find it there. Love has contemplation as well as heaven, and more than heaven, it has voluptuousness.

"Does she still come to the Luxembourg?" "No, sir." "This is the church where she attends mass, is it not?" "She no longer comes here." "Does she still live in this house?" "She has moved away." "Where has she gone to dwell?"

"She did not say."

What a melancholy thing not to know the address of one's soul!

Love has its childishness, other passions have their pettinesses. Shame on the passions which belittle man! Honor to the one which makes a child of him!

There is one strange thing, do you know it? I dwell in the night. There is a being who carried off my sky when she went away.

Oh! would that we were lying side by side in the same grave, hand in hand, and from time to time, in the darkness, gently caressing a finger,--that would suffice for my eternity!

Ye who suffer because ye love, love yet more. To die of love, is to live in it.

Love. A sombre and starry transfiguration is mingled with this torture. There is ecstasy in agony.

Oh joy of the birds! It is because they have nests that they sing.

Love is a celestial respiration of the air of paradise.

Deep hearts, sage minds, take life as God has made it; it is a long trial, an incomprehensible preparation for an unknown destiny. This destiny, the true one, begins for a man with the first step inside the tomb. Then something appears to him, and he begins to distinguish the definitive. The definitive, meditate upon that word. The living perceive the infinite; the definitive permits itself to be seen only by the dead. In the meanwhile, love and suffer, hope and contemplate. Woe, alas! to him who shall have loved only bodies, forms, appearances! Death will deprive him of all. Try to love souls, you will find them again.

I encountered in the street, a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat was worn, his elbows were in holes; water trickled through his shoes, and the stars through his soul.

What a grand thing it is to be loved! What a far grander thing it is to love! The heart becomes heroic, by dint of passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests on anything that is not elevated and great. An unworthy thought can no more germinate in it, than a nettle on a glacier. The serene and lofty soul, inaccessible to vulgar passions and emotions, dominating the clouds and the shades of this world, its follies, its lies, its hatreds, its vanities, its miseries, inhabits the blue of heaven, and no longer feels anything but profound and subterranean shocks of destiny, as the crests of mountains feel the shocks of earthquake.

If there did not exist some one who loved, the sun would become extinct.

Vol. 4, Book 5, Chapter 4.

The 15-Pages Love Letter of Marius for Cosette in <Il cuore di Cosette>.

#Les miserables #les mis #My Post #Marius #Cosette #The Lark #Mlle. Ursule #Lark and Booby #Rue Plumet #Yeah! That 15 pages Letter!#15 pages into 2 minutes!#But still it's Italian I can hear “Does she still come to the Luxembourg?” “No sir.” very clearly!#Staffs really did their best to make the entire Brick into the children's TV animation show!#I'd try making this into gif sets when I have mote time.#(It would be difficult though.)#The Brick #Il cuore di Cosette #Les Mis Letters

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