#when it comes to people acting out in an inappropriate manor for the situation

[pikkukarvinen]

maybe its a steaming hot take but i feel like a lot of Crazy Karen videos are like middle aged autistic women and i think thats something people should think about a bit more often

[oletus-writer]

Can I have Luchino (hunter), Wu, and Antonio with a s/o that’ll make the most wild dirty jokes and laugh their ass off about it? But if anything even slightly dirty actual happens they’ll get red in the face and look away or cover their eyes. They’re just like “THIS IS INAPPROPRIATE I REFUSE TO LOOK”

Sorry that this took a while - I’ve been getting a lot of requests, surprisingly. (Also I have written things I never thought I’d write. The nsfw keigan alphabet was nothing, but this? Not exactly a challenge but I had a lot of fun.)

Luchino (hunter), Wu Chang, Antonio x reader who makes inappropriate jokes but is actually shy

Warnings: nsfw themes

Luchino (hunter)

When he first met you, you had asked him how his penis worked, which surprised and amused him. I mean, it was nice not to have another shocked person, asking how it happened, but why the question?

‘Well… I have a hemipenis, which is the practical term for two penises, inverted inside my cloaca. A cloaca is a hole where animals use to urinate, defecate, and have sex with. This is common in reptiles, and, since I am half a lizard, it would make sense for me to - hang on. That’s not how you properly greet people, is it?’

Soon, Luchino got used to your jokes and even began to look forward to hearing them - it’s not everyday when someone cracks such crude jokes in the manor, let alone to a human lizard hybrid.

When the two of you started dating, he was hesitant to make any sexual advances in fear of you rejecting him because of his situation. However, when he did, your bashfulness first of all surprised him, then brought out a playful side to him.

‘Amore mio, what’s this? You’re shy? How cute. You’d be even cuter being pounded by me, no?’

Xie Bi’an

As the only person on the list that would feel slightly embarrassed to have heard those jokes, Bi’an hides it well. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t find it funny - you’ll hear some breathy laughter from the man.

‘You have quite the mind. Do you stay up late and think of these jokes?’

In a duo hunters match together, he was surprised when he began unbuttoning his shirt because of the heat and you turned red as a tomato. What were you embarrassed about? He was under the impression that you could not care less if he stood naked in front of you.

‘You’re quite red, do you have a fever? No? Then why are you blushing so much? Ah… if that’s the case, I shall button up.’

It doesn’t come as much of a problem when the two of you are dating, since Bi’an likes to take it slow and is more romantic than horny. However, when the time comes, he hopes you won’t be too shy.

Fan Wujiu

When you made your first joke, he was one of the people who audibly laughed - sometimes, he’d make similar jokes just to see Bi’an flustered.

‘Heh. You and I will get along, I think.’

He’s going to flirt at you, as a joke at first, and then, it kind of clicked. Wujiu liked you more than a toy, liked seeing your embarrassed expressions, but there was a pang of hurt when you began to avoid him.

‘You’re avoiding me? Come on, I’ll tease you less.’

After this, he was a bit avoidant - he stopped his touches and lessened his teasing remarks. Perhaps this absence made you reconsider your feelings towards the man?

Antonio

Finally there’s someone to match with his dirty brain. An unstoppable duo, the two of you are, a power couple. So it came no surprise when the announcement came that the two of you were official.

Romance with Antonio was a whirlwind, but a problem soon arose - you were too shy to have sex. When he discovered this, he too teased you relentlessly.

‘Why are you suddenly acting like this, songbird? You had no problem with traumatising Joseph, but won’t even look at my tits? They’re good tits, too, for a cadaver.’

Teasing remarks aside, he’ll do his best to be supportive, and would encourage some casual intimacy, such as touching your waist, sleeping in the same bed, etc. For you, he’ll take it as slow as you’d like, even though he’s itching to get a move on. Suppose that’s what masturbation is for.

‘Passero, would you like to sleep in my bed tonight? It feels awfully lonely without you. No pressure, though.’

[katzkinder]

Hello! I’m the Anon that sent in the Sakuya w/ pillow and guardian angel sister drabble a while back 😅 I read your Cain vs Able Envy vs Lust post

https://katzkinder.tumblr.com/post/645026783681511424/cain-vs-abel-envy-vs-lust

and this drabble popped up in my head and I couldn’t stop myself. I hope the Sakuya one wasn’t too out there… if it’s not any trouble, your post made me conjure this, it’s pretty much a ‘based on / continuation’ of your post… I was hoping to get your feedback? I’m sorry I have a terrible habit of making these things too long😓

First off, every detail of the (eventual PLEASE BE EVENTUAL!) Misono vs. Mikuni fight that no one can leave until the end… I love every second of it!

There was one other aspect though… one of Lily’s main abilities is erasing/manipulating memories *cough cough, another Sakuya foil, cough cough*

so what if upon Misono realizing just how much Mikuni does love him…

what if Misono amid the fight played to the advantage of everyone, Mikuni included, presuming that he’s weak and Misono uses that, putting on an act of being out cold or severely hurt and Lily, aware of what Misono is doing, Lily manipulates Mikuni’s memories/perception of the situation before running to Misono’s side cradling a limp body to further the act so Mikuni thinks he’s gone too far and legitimately hurt his baby brother.

In that moment of panic, Mikuni drops Able on the ground and starts stumbling towards the Servamp cradling his baby brother… he falls to his knees before all of a sudden Misono twitches his fingers or crinkles his nose or something to signal Lily ‘now!’ and Lily jumps behind Mikuni to carry out Execution Block of the Red Queen.

The part I love the most is imagining Mikuni, with Lily’s scythe to his throat just before Lily pulls it, Misono stands, looking down at Mikuni with a confident, almost playful smile that mimics Mikuni’s very own and Misono just quotes something Mikuni said a long time ago… “‘The winner or the loser is decided by who can be cruelest to the end.’ Those we’re your words, right brother?” and right then and there Lily pulls the scythe with a “pleasant dreams, master Mikuni.”

If I’m not mistaken, if something like this happened, this would be the first time Misono has called Mikuni “brother” to his face since he left… as well as the first time Lily had called him “Master” since he left…

Misono is victorious. As the alternate reality begins to fade, Mikuni’s consciousness would begin to fade too… and with a weak chuckle, a smirk, and maybe he even has a “good game, brother” or something like that left in him… in that moment Mikuni is truly happy Misono has surpassed the frail little boy he once was… the frail little boy that now only exists in memories and Mikuni’s treasured photographs.

&OK! the reason I haven’t really mentioned Jeje in this little scenario is because… as far as I know… he’s pretty much the only Servamp we’ve seen who won’t act on his own, outside of his Eve’s orders… even if it means protecting his Eve.

I keep thinking back to the Lust Arc where Jeje, obviously hesitant, asks Mikuni on the rooftop why he isn’t going back to Alicein manor to help and Mikuni responds chuckling, asking Jeje if his asking is referring to Misono or Lily - and Mikuni puts on one of the most tortured/forced/almost somewhat psychopathic smiles and asks Jeje “Do you seriously have any right to ask me that?”And Jeje immediately shuts up and hangs his head in shame.

Unless Mikuni directly ordered him… I honestly don’t believe Jeje would continue to intervene in this fight between Alicein brothers on his own accord. I think he’d be very hesitant to really do anything in this setting from the very beginning unless directly ordered to do so because of the guilt and shame he does feel about how his influence of Envy cost both of them a mother (technically cost Misono 2 mothers).

I think that even if Jeje didn’t necessarily believe Misono was really hurt… he wouldn’t intervene because Mikuni believed he was; I do believe in some ways Jeje does genuinely care about Mikuni, that at least from his POV their relationship/contract isn’t entirely made up out of loyalty and guilt…

& again Jeje seems to be one of the only Servamps that makes no act on his own to defend his Eve from harm (excluding Lawless’ past Eve murder sprees) without being told - Jeje may not have agreed with Mikuni’s mom wanting to kill Misono, but he did not object - Jeje could have easily stopped Mikuni from stabbing and killing his Eve / the boy’s own mother, but he didn’t - Jeje could intervene on this moment right now and try to snap Mikuni out of it or take a (non-fatal) shot at Misono or Lily… but I don’t think he would.

Maybe later when Mikuni would come to… he’s in a bed in a big empty room… and his hands/feet/body is secured to the bed of course. He smiles knowing his little brother knew not to underestimate him.

Misono, with Lily🦋 on his hair, comes in with a glass of water and some pain killer or something and summons his chair/lead, sitting down facing Mikuni and is 100% straight with him, bringing up again what he had screamed during their fight. Mikuni couldn’t slip out easily at the moment, he had no choice but to listen, and Misono starts saying again “stop doing everything on your own, you have people who love you!” just with less screaming, more composure, and a 100% guaranteed tsundere blush.

They have this heart to heart and then Misono looks Mikuni in the eyes; even if Misono already knows, he wants to hear it from Mikuni himself.

Misono tells Mikuni that he knows he is the love child of their father and Mikuni’s teacher; that he knows Mikuni’s mom killed his biological mother; that he knows Mikuni’s mom took him in as a baby… but eventually wanted to kill him too.

Mikuni has his gaze turned away and Misono slams his hand down on the bedside, leaning over his brother that is still restrained to the bed. “I know what she was going to do… but how… how could you kill mother?” Misono is trembling, he needed an answer and we’ll all finally get a more detailed recollection of the events from that night from Mikuni’s perspective! Mwahahahaha

Sometime later once they’ve both recovered from this conversation, Misono gets up to leave, his chair/lead disappearing on command and with his back turned says “I’ve missed having my brother around.”

Once Misono opens the door he turns back with a soft smile and says “and I’m not the only one. After I bested him, he asked me to tell you to come home… he wants to talk again… like a family.”

With that, Misono exits and Mikado walks through the door to talk with his son.

And of course the chapter/arc would end there and we’d have to know gosh knows how long to find out what goes down with those two in a room together when Mikuni can’t just get up and slip away.

Bonus: I’d most definitely wager Mikuni at the very least cockily attempts to make his dad uncomfortable (to avoid talking) by making various comments about how perverted it is Mikage is comfortable having his son tied to the bed frame like this 🙄

fgjdfh YEAH I HAVE YOUR ASK STILL I keep trying to write a little drabble in response but I'm stuck 😭

Gosh I love all of this though, like, yes! Also Mikuni being tied down made me laugh a ridiculous amount, like. He's so tired, and this isn't helping. He WOULD make an inappropriate crack at Mikado in the hopes the man will go away, but unfortunately for him... It's not going to work

Hhhhh, with Jeje... I half agree? That he isn't the type to move unless his Eve tells him to, but also, I wonder about what happened that night. Did Jeje help Mikuni kill her? Did Mikuni kill her at all? Did the Servamp of Envy murder his Eve in order to protect her children? What happened all that time ago?

The answer, to me, is obvious. Both of those brothers are loved, oh so dearly, by their Servamps.

[merakiaes]

Change Of Heart - Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader 

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Let me know what you think, I hope you liked it xx

Wordcount: 3075

Summary: Draco broke it off with you at the end of your fifth year to keep you safe, but when you show up at Malfoy Manor with the Golden Trio after having been captured during your hunt for the Horcruxes, he finds this to be a lot harder, when his aunt takes an interest specifically in you. 

Inconvenient was only the beginning of what yours and Draco’s relationship was. It was inappropriate, problematic, ill-timed. Oh, and then there was the little fact that it was also forbidden; disallowed, tapu, no-go, and every other synonym there was in the English vocabulary summed up the situation you were in pretty well.

Draco was a pureblooded Slytherin and his parents were Death Eaters, and you… you were a muggle-born Gryffindor, with parents who both worked as teachers in the muggle world.

You literally couldn’t be any more different and yet, somehow, in a way you couldn’t even explain seeing as you had no idea of how it happened in the first place, the two of you found each other and developed reciprocated feelings.

Your fellow Gryffindors always insisted that the Slytherin Prince had no empathic feelings to begin with, with the way he walked around school tormenting anyone he considered to be below him, so hearing that he was genuinely in love with a muggle-born Gryffindor would just sound like a joke in their ears.

They wouldn’t have been able to take you seriously if you told them, which is why you didn’t. Not at first, at least.

After a while, they just picked up on it themselves, and the Slytherins started suspecting it too. But no one could say anything about it, seeing as no one had caught you in the act of it and didn’t have any actual proof.

Until the end of your fifth year, that is, when Pansy had walked in on you in the library and watched as Draco discretely, slowly but surely, moved his hand over yours where you had been standing next to each other pretending to be reading.

Of course, Pansy being Pansy, she had ran off and told everyone.

It obviously sounded absurd, Draco Malfoy being romantically or in any way involved with (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but Pansy swore on her life that she had seen what she had seen and with the people in your respective inner circles already having had suspicions, they took her word for it.

Something that you had managed to keep hidden up until then suddenly became the biggest problem in each of your lives.

You knew that if word got out that you were involved to Draco’s, or any of the others’ parents, you were dead. Quite literally.

You realized this, but Draco realized the severity of the situation more than you did, so while you tried coming up with a slightly more reasonable and peaceful solution in the end of which you would still be able to be together, Draco knew he couldn’t keep seeing you.

If he did, he would not only be putting your life at risk, but your entire family’s too, and with the empathic side of himself that you had awoken in him, he couldn’t let that happen.

He needed to break it off with you and as drastic problems require drastic solutions, he made quite the show of it, one day just beginning to bully you when he was with his friends, making fun of you and calling you a mudblood among other very, very hurtful things.

At the time, you had been under the impression that you were still to come up with a plan that would allow you to keep being together without anyone knowing, so you were obviously taken aback when this happened so suddenly and without warning.

Your reaction was, therefore, completely genuine, and in turn successfully made everyone believe that there had never been anything going on between the two of you.

You were hurt, not because of what he had said to you, but because you realized then that it was actually over.

When it came to the hurtful words, you knew he didn’t mean a single one of them. His face was pulled up in a nasty scowl when the words left his lips, but you could see it in his eyes that he was sorry. You could always see everything in his eyes.

Almost two years had passed since then, and you were now accompanying Harry, Ron and Hermione on their hunt for the Horcruxes.

You never would’ve thought that you would be where you were with them two years prior, but when Draco had just… disappeared from Hogwarts after Dumbledore’s death, you had nothing left there.

Having fallen out a long time ago didn’t make it hurt any less when he suddenly disappeared, not only because you couldn’t see him and feel his presence anymore, which in your eyes was better than nothing, but because no matter where in the world he was and no matter how far apart you were, you could still feel his pain, his confliction, his struggle, and knowing you could do nothing to help him.

So you left with the trio, partly for the sake of a distraction, but also because you wanted to put your skills in witchcraft to good use with the war quickly approaching.

You had been through a lot of pain and struggle along the way, but you always made it out with your lives intact, so despite all of the obstacles thrown your way it had been going fine, up until the day on which you were captured by bounty hunters in the woods and brought to Malfoy manor where you, for the first time in almost two years, laid eyes on Draco again.

Your heart was beating so quickly where you stood beside Hermione, being held back by one of the bounty hunters who had been a part of your capture. 

Not because you were afraid - don’t get me wrong, you were; you were scared for yours and your friends’ lives.

But your heart was beating for one reason and one reason only, and that was being in Draco’s presence, looking into his eyes again, after all this time.

His eyes were wide when they first met yours and you could feel his panic all the way from where you were standing.

You wanted to run to each other, hold each other and never let go, but after first look, both of you forced yourselves to look away from each other to not raise suspicion, Draco instead being led over to identify Harry.

You knew that wouldn’t be easy, however, with the stinging jinx Hermione had cast on him before you were captured, and you dreaded the moment Bellatrix would figure that out, which didn’t take long.

“Was it you, dear?” She turned to you and asked after realizing. “Give me her wand, let’s see what her last spell was.”

As she passed you, she laughed maniacally, pointing her finger at you. “Got you!” She sang, but then she turned her head back forward, and stopped right in her tracks with a gasp and widened eyes.  “What’s that? Where did you get that from?”

The bounty hunter looked down at the sword in his hand, shrugging his shoulders. “It was in her bag when we searched her. I reckon its mine now.” He said, and that’s all it took for Bellatrix to attack them, shooting vines from her wand and sending them out to wrap around their throats.

“Get out, get out!” She yelled at them, and they wasted no time, hurrying to their feet and stumbling out of the room with their hands clawing at their necks.

“Cissy, put those boys and the girl in the cellar.” Bellatrix instructed her sister, who wasted no time in going over and tugging Ron and Hermione forward, handing them and Harry over to Wormtail at the top of the stairs.

While she did that, Bellatrix came over to you and got up in your face, flashing you her rotten teeth. “I'd like a conversation with this one... girl to girl.” She said, laughing.

Your heart was about ready to beat out of your chest and your eyes flickered over to meet Draco’s out of pure instinct, finding that he was already staring at you with wide eyes.

“Everyone, out!” Bellatrix exclaimed, waving her wand at them, and Narcissa wasted no time in going over to where Draco was standing.

She instantly picked up on the intense eye-contact you were having, letting her eyes flicker between the two of you a few times, and hurrying to lead her son out of there when she realized what was going on, in order to avoid anyone else taking note of it.

He looked at you as they walked past and when he did so, Narcissa brought her hand up to the back of his head, forcing his head to the side all while staring into your eyes.

The door slammed shut behind them and everything happened so quickly after that.

One minute you were standing there, just waiting, and the next you were on the ground, trying your hardest to move and get out from underneath Bellatrix who was sitting on top of you, your entire face and neck sticky with sweat as you were held down to the floor by an invisible force.

Your breathing was heavy and ragged with panic as she leaned in close to your face, hissing for what seemed to be the hundredth time. “The Sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. How did you get it? What else did you and your friends TAKE FROM MY VAULT?!”

“I didn't take anything.” You replied in a cry, trying your best to turn your face out of her grip. “Please. I didn’t take anything.”

“I don’t believe it.” She hissed, and then she disappeared from your face, instead moving over to your arm.

There was a moment where nothing happened, during which the only thing you could do was worry about what she was going to do, and then it started, the pain; the pain as she pressed the tip of her wand into the skin of your arm, beginning to carve into your flesh.

It was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the feeling drawing deafening, never-ending screams from your lips, said screams shaking the walls, echoing through the entire house and reaching Draco’s ears where he sat in another room with his mother and father.

He was so distracted by your screams of agonizing pain that he didn’t notice his mother’s eyes on him, completely oblivious to the fact that she was watching him as he squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling, his lips wobbling and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

He sat there, listening and not being able to do nothing to help you, until the house finally turned quiet in a way so sudden, the fear for your life settled deep in his stomach.

The pain had left you completely disoriented, your mind wandering and the only image flickering through your head being that of Draco. His smile, his silvery blonde hair, his mysterious grey eyes.

Silent tears were escaping your eyes and rolling down the bridge of your nose were you laid, as you look down on the word now carved into your skin, a single drop of blood thrickling down your skin and hitting the black floor.

Bellatrix had grown tired of you when you hadn’t given her any information, no matter how much she tortured you, instead sending Wormtail to fetch the goblin.

When hearing the cease of your screams, Narcissa, Lucius and Draco returned into the room, the latter faltering in the doorway when spotting you lying on the floor, clearly completely out of it, and having to be tugged along by his mother.

You weren’t sure who fired the first spell but soon, Ron, Harry and Hermione were fighting against Narcissa, Bellatrix and Lucius, having escaped the cellar in some way, while Draco stood off to the side, not knowing what to do or which side to stand on.

Bellatrix came up to you then, and you let out a silent whimper when she flashed you her dirty grin, too weak to do anything when she lifted you up, put a dagger to your throat and moved you into the middle of the room.

“Stop!” She yelled, and the spell-casting instantly ceased, your friends coming to an abrupt stop when seeing you and the dagger being held to your neck.

“Drop your wands.” Bellatrix continued from behind you, and when they did nothing, repeated herself in a crazy scream. “I said drop them!”

They were about to do as told, slowly beginning to sink closer to the floor by their knees to put the wands to the floor, but before they could, the unthinkable happened, Draco suddenly turning in the direction of his aunt and raising his wand to her head with a shaky hand.

Everyone turned to look at him with shock written all over their face, but all you could do was let out a sigh of relief and close your eyes.

“Let her go.” His voice reached your ears, and you opened your eyes again to see him taking a slow step in your direction.

”Draco!” Narcissa gasped, eyes wide with disbelief and betrayal.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?!” Lucius wasn’t far behind, taking an urgent step in the direction of his son, who wasted no time in switching the wand over to him with a scowl now etched across his face.

Lucius came to an abrupt stop when he got the wand against him, holding his hands up in surrender while Draco glared. 

“Let’s just say I’ve had a change of heart.” He spat, his lips turning down in distaste, and Lucius face pulled into an enraged expression.

”My own flesh and blood!” He hissed, and before anyone else could say anything more, Bellatrix let out a maniacal laugh, causing you to flinch at the high volume right by your ear.

“He’s in love with the girl!” She exclaimed in laughter, and before you knew it, the cold blade was pressed even closer to your neck, a whimper leaving your lips and your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

”He’s in love, with a mudblood!” She continued in a voice full of hatred, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of cold liquid trickling down your throat.

She used her fingers to brush your hair away from your neck, and leaned in close to your ear, smiling maliciously at her nephew. “And now he’s going to watch me kill her.” She whispered, and he wasted no time in stepping forward with his face now pulled into a panicked expression.

Before she could follow through on her promise, however, the sound of squeaking reached your ears, followed by clinking that sounded to be coming from a chandelier.

Looking up at the chandelier right about where you were standing, you got your suspicions confirmed, catching sight of Dobby sitting on top of it and loosening the screws.

And before anyone could do anything else, the chandelier fell, causing Bellatrix to fly backwards with a surprised yell, and in turn causing you to fall forward, straight into Ron’s arms.  

With his aunt momentarily stunned, Draco wasted no time in rushing over in your direction, reaching out for you in Ron’s arms.

In turn, the redheaded boy held you even closer to his chest. “Don’t touch her!” He snapped at the platinum blonde boy, who in turn only gave him a stern look.

“I’m not your enemy, Weasley. But if you don’t give her to me, I will be.” He threatened, and Ron glared, but nonetheless did as told, handing you over to him and running back to Hermione and Harry.

You clung to Draco’s side, getting used to standing on your weak legs again, and Draco turned to Harry, yelling out: “Potter!” and throwing him his wand.

He caught it immediately, and wasted no time in stupefying Lucius, throwing him backwards into the rubble of the chandelier.

Narcissa raised her wand but got no time to cast any spells before Dobby took it from her, Bellatrix yelling out in anger in the process.

A few more words were exchanged while Draco helped you over to where the others had gathered around Dobby, and the second you were all there, you grabbed a hold of Dobby in one way or another, and allowed him to apparate you out of there.  

Everything was a blur for a moment, but the entire time, Draco held you close to him, cradling the back of your head and holding your head against his shoulder.

When you got through to the other side, you landed not-so-gracefully on the ground, but luckily for you, Draco took most of the fall all while holding on to you, keeping you safe and out of harm’s way.

You started crying almost immediately, reality finally catching up to you and the mixture of relief and remaining pain and panic getting to much for you.

“Draco.” You cried, and he held the back of your head, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m here.” He answered, brushing your hair out of your face, your skin damp with tears and sweat.

Your vision finally began getting clear again and you raised your hands to his face to be able to hold him closer, in the process putting your exposed forearm on full display which instantly caught Draco’s attention.

His eyes flickered down to your arm and you watched as his face fell, his eyes flickering back up to yours quickly, now filled with guilt and sorrow.

”I’m so sorry.” He whispered, his lip wobbling. “So, so sorry.” He continued, his voice cracking and tears slowly beginning to escape his eyes too, his gaze flickering down with shame.

You wanted to break down right then and there at the sight of your arm, the crooked, messy letters spelling “mudblood” in a red, bloody and swollen wound, but you forced yourself not to, instead making him look at you again.

Your head shook and so did your breath. “It wasn’t your fault.” You whispered, and he shook his head in return.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, his hands moving from your waist and the back of your head to cradle your jaw, his forehead pressing harder against yours. “They can’t hurt you anymore, I promise. I love you, so much.” He said and you let out one single laugh through your tears, nodding your head against his.

“I know. I love you, too.” You answered, and then you pressed your lips to his, assuring both him and yourself that you were going to be alright.

Tagged: @writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure​ @peakyhermione​ @fanficflaneuse​ @lucillethings​ @okaydraco​ @biinspiration​

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[tiaragqueen]

Ad Interim

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Alois Trancy x Maid! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,4k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Mention of abuse, manipulation, possessiveness

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Baby you've given me the sweetest emotions. And now that I've found you, I'm never gonna let you go. Because I'm with you, my dreams have come true.” - Happy With You [Samantha Cole]

You hardly knew anyone here, aside from your master and former… colleagues. You didn’t even know how and what to act in this situation. Should you start greeting the guest as Claude did? Should you strike a conversation with one of them? But Alois had ordered you to accompany him through the night, and who were you to disobey him? You should be glad that he’d even bothered to release from your little cage and dressed you up in a beautiful dress you’d never thought of wearing before. And although you highly doubted anyone would help you once they learn about your plight, this party was very much appreciated. It was certainly a breath of fresh air compared to his fragrant yet oppressive room.

“How are you feeling, [Name]?” he beamed. “Do you enjoy this party? I made it specifically for you, you know?”

He was testing you. Everything was trial with him, and if you failed to give him the desired response, a gruesome punishment would surely be waiting later. At the very least, Alois had the manners to not humiliate you much.

The arm that wound your waist tightened slightly, and you realized you’d taken a rather long time to answer. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for your efforts, Your Highness.” You feigned a smile, trying to ignore the curiosity that gnawed your throat. What was his true purpose? Why did he hold a party for you? It wasn’t as if you detested gathering, per se, you were just a bit unequipped to properly handle the aristocrats. That, and you lacked the confidence necessary to assert your ‘dominance’, or something to differentiate you from the sea of rich people.

But he wouldn’t mind it if you asked politely, right? He seemed like he was in a good mood tonight.

“If… you don’t mind me asking, Your Highness, why do you… do this? I-I mean, it’s not as if I hate it. I just…”

Alois snickered, and you got the feeling he was mocking your cluelessness. “Why, to announce our engagement, of course!”

The news immediately drowned out every chatter and laughter and blurred the couples dancing nearby as you focused on his simper. What… what did he just say? Engagement? No, it must be your imagination, right? There was no way he was planning to marry you, and even if he did, you didn’t – and couldn’t – love him. What kind of normal person would like their captor anyway? Not to mention, he’d tortured you due to childish reasons such as when you disagreed with him on trivial stuff. If he couldn’t even handle a simple difference in opinions, how could you trust him to be a good husband?

“Y-Your Highness, I believe you’ve made a mistake–” You stiffened when you felt fingers digging into your side. Alois continued to smile like he hadn’t threatened to tear your dress with his nails alone and hummed questioningly.

“What was that? I don’t think I can hear you very well.” he chirped, a glint of warning and displeasure obscured his foxy eyes. “And I think you should stop speaking as well unless you want to sleep in the cage again.”

For the past few nights, you’d been sleeping on his bed. It was quite improper for a lowly maid such as yourself, but Alois insisted that you were ‘more than that’ and so, you deserved a privilege to ‘warm his bed’; a privilege that he wouldn’t hesitate to revoke should you do something that displeased him in the slightest. It wasn’t rare for him to touch you inappropriately too, or give you affection that seemed to be more intimate than your liking, but it was better than living in that gilded cage.

Then again, the whole manor was practically a gilded cage for you.

“M-my apologies…” you murmured, bowing your head shamefully. What was there to be shameful about? You had no idea. You just wanted everything to go back to normal, regardless of your status as a mere servant. You wanted to help Hannah with household chores. You wanted to feel the warm sunlight against your skin as you admired the perfectly manicured garden during your spare time. You wanted that taxing yet liberating life again.

Alois squeezed your body affectionately, satisfied with your compliance. You weren’t a big rebel, and as much as he enjoyed toying with your innocence, he needed to stop your continuous rejection. And what better way to do it than a facile threat?

“Good to know you’re learning.” He closed his eyes and beamed gratifyingly. “Now, I must greet the guests first. Be a good girl and wait here, alright? I shall return as soon as possible.”

Despite his order, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand still. The door to the garden beckoned you like the empty promise of freedom, and after sparing a cursory glance around the ballroom, you bolted outside. You ran and ran, fueled by the adrenaline to avoid him – anyone – regardless of the knowledge that you could never truly escape from this place.

Under the moonlight, you found your reprieve, like you always did every night. Under the moonlight you collapsed to your knees and cried, wondering what you’d done to grab his attention in the first place. Was it your personality? Your work ethic? Your skills? Alois seemed like a person who did things just because, or out of sheer curiosity, and it scared you. It scared you because you never knew what his next plan was, or how long would he stay interested in you until he grew bored and demanded Claude to dispose of your body. Who knows, maybe your wedding might be your last day. Nothing was too farfetched with him, after all.

And under the moonlight Alois found you, Claude stood motionlessly beside him.

“There you are!” You snapped your head towards him and gasped when he suddenly embraced you. “I’ve been looking for you! I was planning to introduce to everyone until Claude informed me that you’ve disappeared. I panicked, of course, but luckily he told me you’re still on the premise! You had me worried there…”

The glee instantly melted from his face once he noticed your tear-stained one. “Aw, why are you crying? Didn’t you say you were thankful for my efforts?”

“I… I…” You tried to speak through the sobs, but he quickly shushed you.

“Oh, I know! It’s because you’re touched, right? You’re engaged with a noble, after all! Very few girls can have this kind of luxury, so I understand your feelings.” He chuckled and tousled your hair. “How silly of you, but that’s what I like the most about you.”

Sighing blissfully, he grabbed your hand and rose from the pavement. “Hey, we should go inside now! I can’t wait to show you off to them.” he declared, ignoring the way you flinched at his frank words.

You were just a belonging for him, weren’t you? Although you didn’t know what merit could he possibly gain from marrying a humble girl, you knew that your engagement was definite.

As for how long it’d last, or how long you’d endure being his wife, were entirely different matters. He probably didn’t even care about it. As long as you were in his grasp, as long you complied with his demands, he was content with the way things were.

“I wonder what’s the proper punishment for your actions…” he mused, eliciting your body to tense up. “You did leave me without my permission, after all. What a shame, I was in such a good mood tonight and you just had to ruin it. I’m beginning to think that maybe you enjoy being punished so much.”

Sweats gathered on your forehead as you tried to recompose, eyes darting around the quiet garden to avoid his sly glance. “I-I…” What was he going to do later? Starve you? Isolate you in a dark and empty room? Whipping your body? The garden was vast, but breathing suddenly became the hardest thing to do. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, please don’t punish me.”

Alois smirked, clearly savoring your panic and desperate pleas. It was always a joy to see you react this way, once again emphasizing the stark differences in power. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But in return…” Your body went rigid when his hand toyed with the lace on the back of your dress, almost pulling it in the process. “You have to do something for me. Call it… a ‘thank you’ gift, if you may.”

[creepy-spooghetti]

Damn I'm in love with your headcanons. The ones I saw in your blog are more suitable for the pastas and the way you show their personalities... Wow. Pastas here are exactly the way I have been imagining them. Good job, keep going. Your blog is underrated, that's for sure. Oh and how about some random facts about Ben? He has a rather peculiar character practically not similar to others and it will be quite interesting for me to learn more about him. I'm glad that I have found you.

Wow, thank you so much! I’m happy my portrayal of the characters meets your expectations, and I’m glad that you enjoy my posts!

BEN Drowned Headcanons (OLD)

BEN is one of the more...peculiar residents in the Manor. He gives the internet and his consoles his undivided attention and tends to get irritated if someone dares to distract him.

He stays holed up in his room\office most of the time, which means that he lacks quite a bit of social interaction. 

Most others in the household often find him obnoxious to be around and try to avoid him if they can, and even his few friends will get annoyed if they’re in contact with him for too long, but he could care less.

He has plenty of things at his expense to keep him entertained, like tormenting the unsuspecting people on Cleverbot, and if he gets bored doing that, he can always watch anime.

BEN is 5′6.

He is often made fun of for his height, and though it does mildly offend him, he’s learned how to brush it off and retort back with a comment much more insulting and\or embarrassing. He has perfected the ability of quick wit.

Being the only tech-savvy one in the Manor puts him in charge of things like security cameras and hacking into government computers, all of which he can do in the blink of an eye.

He acts very immaturely and inappropriate in some situations, but when it comes to the task he was assigned to do, he couldn’t be more serious.

BEN’s favorite food, shockingly enough, is fruit salad.

Being a ghost, he doesn’t need to eat per se, but that doesn’t mean he dislikes eating, oh no.

If something looks appetizing enough for him, he will be down to consume as much of it as he possibly can.

Which will be all of it.

He literally can not get full because his body is immune to normal human reactions (sleeping, using the bathroom) because, well, he simply isn’t a human anymore.

BEN has three forms; his glitchy form, (which he can use to do crazy shit like crawling through a TV screen, Ring-style), his ghostly form, (this enables him to walk through walls and be semi-transparent, which has freaked out other Pastas on multiple occasions), and his human form (which is totally solid and can feel slight series of pain and discomfort).

His main form is his human form, though he does switch between all three pretty regularly.

He likes to hack into home security cameras and watch people sleep (the little creep) and study their breathing patterns because, why not?

He secretly likes My Little Pony and has several Apple Jack figurines (shhh, don’t tell anyone.)

He also likes to play pranks on people, both virtually and in real life.

The people he enjoys pranking most are Jeff the Killer, Clockwork, and Sally (poor kid) because he gets the most amusing reactions out of them.

Has definitely tried Carolina Reapers, before.

Also instantly regretted it and spent the next two hours downing gallons of milk.

Overall, he’s not an average person by any standards, but his life and personality most certainly aren’t uninteresting.

[highqueenofelfhame]

All I Ask Of You pt 12 (toxic au)

Over the course of the last few days, they’d been working with the Captain of the Guard, Chaol Westfall, and a handful of his best guards to discuss security for the gala that would take place tomorrow. The Cadre agreed across the board that it was the best time for there to be an attempt on his life. It would be easy for it to happen, Aelin could think of loads of ways to kill a man in a crowded space — some as simple as pricking him with a needle infected with a deadly and fast acting disease.

“Aelin?” Her eyes shifted from the map of the ballroom in front of her, flecked with pins of various colors to show where each person of the Cadre would be, and where Adarlan’s Private Guard would be throughout the castle. “Are you okay?” Chaol asked her, bracing his hands on the table. Aelin nodded.

“Yes, sorry,” she offered with the wave of her hand, noticing that everyone had moved away from the table. “Did you need something?”

“I was just, it’s probably inappropriate but I wanted to ask —“

“She’s busy,” Rowan’s voice sounded behind her, low and hard. Aelin felt her blood run cold through her veins, the anger no doubt glowing in her eyes as she spun on him.

“Do you want to share with the class why you don’t get to speak for me anymore?” Her voice had the same lethal quiet that he’d only heard a handful of times before — all of which happened to be in the worst years of their relationships when she had begun to turn indifferent on him after she thought the same had happened to him. Rowan’s own eyes flashed as the muscle at his jaw feathered and he turned, leaving the room. Aelin turned back to face Chaol, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she forced a grin onto her lips. “Still interested?” To her surprise, he let out a low laugh.

“Rowan Whitethorn is your ex boyfriend?” When Aelin nodded, he drummed his fingers on the table. “I’d make the whole, ‘I can take him’ remark, but we both know that I absolutely can’t do that. I can, and, would like to take you out though.”

“I don’t mix business and pleasure anymore. It gets entirely too messy, exhibit A. Thank you, though. I’m flattered. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Aelin forced another smile, but only barely before she moved to join Fenrys who was waiting for her by the door. She didn’t speak the entire ride home.

~*~

The door to the bedroom was half open when Rowan wandered down the hall. He wanted to apologize to Aelin about snapping earlier, about hurting her so badly time and time again. No light shone from within as he nudged the door open with his fist, and he completely stopped in his tracks.

Aelin was bent over, her back arched like in a feline way as Fenrys plowed into her over and over. The sounds she made were sounds that he had coaxed from her time and time again, sounds that she had even confessed before nobody had been able to get her to make but him. But here was Fenrys, pulling those same breathy moans, the near screams as he fucked her with her hair pulled back in his fist. Her mouth fell open as she met Rowan’s eyes, as she let out another moan as Fen began to kiss up the center of her back as they both came down from a high —

When he sat up, he was drenched in sweat. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tripped in the tangled sheets that were wrapped around his ankles resulting in the wind being knocked clean out of his lungs when he came in contact with the cold stone floor. Rowan forced himself to his feet and ran down the hall, through the kitchen and the living rooms toward the other side of the manor where Fenrys’ bedroom was. He was less than gentle in throwing the door open to find — Fenrys, out cold and fully clothed. The side of the bed that Aelin should have been on was empty, made up and completely undisturbed. Fenrys didn’t even move as the door hit the wall other than to shift onto his side and let out a loud snore.

Rowan’s hands clawed through his hair as he walked back toward his bedroom. A low growl escaped his throat as he tugged on the ends of his murky blonde locks, entirely too frustrated with how his life was going at the moment. There was no one to blame but himself, he knew, but it didn’t make his shit-show of a life any less irritating.

“What are you doing?” Her voice startled him so bad that he jolted, head whipping to the direction of the kitchen. Aelin was looking at him with a brow raised, laptop open before her and a steaming cup of tea in her hands. Rowan’s eyes fluttered closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and let his other hand fall to his hip.

“Gods above, you scared the hell out of me.”

“I can see that,” she licked her lips and, when he looked at her, tilted her head to the side slightly. “Were you checking on me?” Rowan hesitated, but nodded.

“I had a nightmare,” he explained, running his hand over his face. “What are you doing up?”

“I haven’t been sleeping lately. Nightmares wake me up anyway, what’s the point?” Nightmares of you fucking other women is what she didn’t say, but didn’t have to. It was there in the edge of her voice, which was sharp like a carefully forged blade. “Do you think we have much to worry about tomorrow?”

“I think that if we’re all alert, it will be fine. We’ve been in worse situations.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You should try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” she replied, but her voice was distant, her eyes glazed over. Aelin shut her laptop and put the cup of tea down on the counter, her eyes staying distant. She looked tired, the most tired he’d ever seen her. “Goodnight.”

“Aelin?” She paused where she lingered in the opposite doorway of the kitchen, some twenty feet between them, but she didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m sorry for this afternoon.”

“It didn’t stop him from asking, or stop me from saying yes,” was all she said as she walked away. Rowan stayed rooted to the spot, his eyes following her down the hall until she disappeared into Fenrys’s bedroom. It took him longer than he cared to admit before he was able to make himself go back to his room and try to sleep.

~*~

The ballroom of the palace was full of people dressed to the nines for yet another charity gala. Aelin’s gown was made of heavy black velvet and pooled at her feet with the back dropping into a low v. Every time Rowan placed his hand there to guide her, he touched her bare skin and she had to fight herself to avoid clenching her jaw. It was even more infuriating that he looked as good as he did, how they looked every bit the power couple that they pretended to be.

“I’m a lucky man,” he’d drawled to someone who had made the comment of how absolutely stunning Aelin looked, how breathtaking and show-stopping the dress she wore was. It had been an effort to not shove at him, to not tell the woman that he’d cheated on her -- effectively ruining both their lives. But she’d managed, and had even been able to steer Rowan away so she could get more champagne.

“Can you please stop touching me,” she breathed into her champagne flute, looking up at him beneath heavily made up lashes.

“We have a cover --”

“That we can maintain perfectly fine without you touching me, I just,” her voice cracked and she let out a breath, eyes falling shut. “Please, Rowan. I can’t take it.”

“Okay,” he said, a terse nod of his head. “I’m sorry.” Aelin had just started to nod her head when the shouting started, and then everything happened quickly -- too quickly -- immediately after.

Across the hall, Fenrys dove on Dorian, taking him down to the ground and covering his body with his, effectively becoming a human shield for the Crown Prince. All over the room, Lorcan covered the king, Connall the queen, and Vaughan the young prince. A shot echoed through the room and bits of the ceiling clattered to the floor. Another gunshot rang out and the chandelier in the center of the ballroom crashed to the floor. The screaming intensified as people were crushed by the weight of the gold fixture, some of them impaled with the sharp crystals they had been admiring moments before.

A third shot rang and Aelin stumbled into Rowan, his hands catching her shoulder. Instantly, she was pale as a sheet, somehow feeling the most pain she’d ever felt and nothing at all. Her eyes drifted from Rowan’s face that was also too pale, as she lifted a shaky hand to her right shoulder. When she pulled it away from the high neckline of her dress, her fingers were drenched with blood. She had been able to feel the bullet, half protruding from her skin.

“Ro,” she gasped out, her hand going to his face as she collapsed to the floor. Aelin’s blood was swiped across his cheek, her fingers shaking as hard as the rest of her body as she gazed up at his handsome face.

“I’ve got you. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me,” he repeated over and over, until another shot rang out, one that hit lower in her back, and a fifth had Rowan jerking back.

She wasn’t able to see what happened next. Rowan let out a string of curses that she heard so distantly as if he’d said it from across the room, his hands slipped away from her body. Aelin tried to focus on him, but her breathing quickened and her eyes crossed. Darkness had claimed her entirely before her head hit the floor.

~*~

Two days later at the hospital, Fenrys was leaning against Aelin’s bed, one of his hands in hers. His face was red and splotchy - anyone who looked at him would know that the events of today had been some of the worst he had experienced. Aelin was still unconscious, having lost so much blood. Her skin was still so pale, he could see the map of blue veins that trailed under her skin. Even her lips and hair seemed to be more pale than usual. With a tube down her throat to aid in her breathing, Fenrys had never seen her look so...fragile. Gone was the golden girl that had the personality of a wildfire. In her place lay a woman whose flame barely managed to flicker in the wind.

Behind him, footsteps trudged into the room and he didn’t have to look to know that it was Lorcan, coming to check on his fallen soldier. Fenrys did watch, however, when Lorcan ran a hand down the side of her face, brushed a thumb over her jaw.

“We walked straight into that trap,” he said quietly, pausing to run his tongue over his teeth. “It was exactly what they wanted. Us to worry about the Crown, thinking we’d be so focused on protecting others we would leave each other vulnerable. I failed her.”

“None of us saw it coming, Lor. Aelin hasn’t mentioned Hammel in years. Not since her parents. I didn’t even know he was out of prison, I don’t even know how he got out of prison. Unless it…” Fenrys frowned, his eyes shifting the transparent skin at Aelin’s wrist. His fingers traced the veins there as he processed the thought.

“Unless it was an inside job,” Lorcan said, his hand falling to his side. “We were set up.”

“When she wakes up and -”

“I know,” Lorcan tried to interject, but Fenrys turned to look at him. He shook his head as he gestured to Aelin, unconscious in the bed with an oxygen cannula hooked in her nostrils, IVs in her hand.

“You think you know, but you don’t. There has always been a line, Lorcan. A line that she was never willing to cross and the only person she would cross those lines for is Rowan. You don’t understand what she’s going to do when she wakes up and finds out he’s gone, that he was taken...there will be no accounting for what she does.”

As if on cue, her eyes flew open and she began to choke. Loud, gasping sounds as Lorcan ran to the door to yell for help. Aelin’s arms flailed wildly as she choked and gasped for any semblance of air, her throat burning like she had swallowed hellfire. It didn’t take long for her to grip the tube in her mouth and pull until it was out.

She gripped Fenrys’s sweatshirt in her fist, spit dripping from her wan lips and tears pouring from her eyes as her chest heaved. A nurse and injected something into her IV. Something to soothe her nerves and panic and pain, she told her, before she rushed back out of the room in search of her doctor.

It took several moments of Aelin gasping, one hand still clutching the hem of Fen’s hoodie so hard she thought she might rip straight through the fabric, the other gripping Lorcan’s fingers with her eyes closed until she seemed to find her footing. It slowly became easier to breathe, the pain in her throat turning more to a rawness, but the pain in her shoulder and abdomen had her letting out a sob of pain.The white bandages at her shoulder and hip were beginning to bloom a red rose of blood.

“When I find out who is gone?” She choked out, her words broken by gasps and sobs as she slumped back against the bedding, pain coursing through every cell of her body. Whatever the nurse had given her was beginning to make the edges of her consciousness a fuzzy haze. “Where is Rowan?”

[alo-piss-trancy]

What would be some Grell omorashi headcanons?

Quick Note: I tend to use she/her for Gr/ell and hc her as a tra/ns wo/man, but I also understand between canon sources, non-canon char interviews, author intentions, dif cultural views, The time period the canon takes place in vs. The year the media was published vs. Our current time now changing views/terms, it's ALL a giant clustertruck question mark blob. So feel free to hc Gre/ll differently, be that a very feminine ga/y man or b/i or nonb/inary or whatever, I genuinely don't mind how anyone hcs characters and fan content does not affect my enjoyment of canon in any way. I'm never gonna pick fights and claim somebody's playing with their imaginary Barbie wrong lmao, kindergarteners know better than that

Now to the actual ask:

ANON I LOVE YOU!!! Gr/ell is one of my fav chars EVER but I never get to talk about her hhhhh ❤❤❤

I've had 8 dang years to think about this so enjoy a varied selection 😼 I'm sorry in advance bc half of these are very lemony oops

General:

* Reapers have stronger bladders than humans (in terms of capacity/general strength), but they're still much weaker than a demon's (goes for all bodily functions tbh. Demons don't really have any, the only reason they would need to go is if they chose to partake in occasional food/drink, and could easily hold it for weeks or even months at a time). A reaper can probably hang in there with a full bladder for a day or two if very determined, less if they've had any strong diuretics/alcohol (I imagine the humans' stuff is p weak tho and barely gets them buzzed).

* Gr/ell's bladder is stronger than a newbie like Ro/nald's, but weaker than someone like W/ill's. Mostly bc she's frequently drinking unhealthy stuff and has no problem up and ditching to pee as soon as she's tired of waiting.

* Not bladdershy in the slightest, and not dysp/horic either. (While she wants a womb/too look more womanly, she also seems fairly content with her body and even takes pride in it in several scenes.) The only time I could see her getting nervous/locking up is if she had a really bad day or felt extra self-conscious, and it wouldn't be a very severe condition.

* She doesn't like going in weird/gross places because she is a Beautiful Lady With Standards, thank you very much. If she has absolutely no choice she'll suck it up and pee in an alley like the commoner humans, but she will complain about it for the next few years at every opportunity.

* That being said she's also a huge hypocrite, and if the situation was reversed would immediately snap at someone like W/ill or Ro/nald to just go in the alley already instead of failing to hide their desperation on the job. You bunch of damn babies, grow a pair.

* If she needs to be serious/doesn't want ppl to know, she can hide desperation fairly well (a little clumsy/flushed and sweaty, but that could be mistaken as her normal goofy behavior), masking how bad it really is until she's a minute from wetting herself.

* If she doesn't care and wants to complain though, she's obvious af. Whines and gripes the whole time, full-blown potty dance to garner sympathy, legs crossed and bouncing, everything. By the time she gets to the suspiciously e/rotic moans ppl usually hurry to find her a bathroom/yell at her to leave lol

* There have definitely been times when Gre/ll used going to the bathroom as an excuse to ditch work for a LONG time or took many frequent smaller breaks to do her nails/read magazines/flirt with Seb, etc. Needless to say, this backfires terribly the one time she actually does have to go because W/illiam definitely isn't putting up with her bs no matter how much she begs or squirms. He's even madder at her when he realizes he'll have to clean the floor. If she wasn't so mad/embarrassed herself, she'd have taken joy in his karma and gladly told him to suck her d/ick.

* That's def not the first time W/ill's seen her desperate or piss herself. As young stud reapers in training I guarantee G/rell got shitfaced at company parties on more than one occasion (or just went out drinking the night before work on a weekday lol). Frequently showed up for field work having to pee every other hour and driving him nuts c':

* She and Ma/dame Red definitely fooled around a couple of times (she's the only woman Gr/ell's ever been attracted to) . Maybe Gr/ell already had the kink and brought it up, or maybe Red saw Gr/ell squirming and asked (insisted) she let her watch until she lost control, but either way things got dirty real quick lmao. Red slapped a demon's ass in the same room as her nephew, she's dom AF (and inappropriate lmao). G/rell's a giant masochist/sadist combo. Do the math 👀👌💯

* I personally love the concept of her ending up desperate after inviting herself along and crashing one of C/iel and Seb/astian's missions and just being miserable the whole time trying to hide it. Because she def can't embarrass herself in front of B/assy, but even worse she will NOT prove she has to take a potty break before some human kid. Naturally, C/iel being the complete brat and posessive bitch he is, immediately picks up on her predicament and torments her the whole time/makes a fool of her without letting Seb know the real issue. She can't lay a finger on him because she'd be Dead and she can't whine for B/assy to get him to stop bc that would mean explaining her problem so it just keeps escalating in comedic fashion. (This isn't even an omo hc really sorry lol, I just love any plot with those two bickering like petty babies as rivals for Seb's attention, even better if Ci/el consistently pulls one over on her and is the more mature one. You killed my aunt and then tried to steal my butler, Get Rekt Bitch )

* In any aus where she isn't hooking up with Red or trying to get Seb, I ship her hard with Un/dertaker (they're my otp actually don't judge me). In those he's actually the one with a massive piss kink and she's weirded tf out at first, but I mean if ur bf already eats dog biscuits and sleeps in a coffin u can probs learn to live with it. She indulges him periodically and he spoils her rotten afterwards. (I actually had several fic ideas for those two back in the day. One day maybe I'll finally get around to it).

* No matter what she draws a hard line at drinking it. No thank you. Golden showers are a maybe but they better have some gr8 shampoo to scrub her luxurious hair with afterwards.

* Wetting herself in that too small choir outfit from s1 that basically made short shorts and a crop top? P l e a s e

Dom G/rell:

* Has totally tried to pin Seb down/trap him somewhere and use his increasing desperation as leverage to get what she wants since he's too proper to wet himself. It probably doesn't work bc he's crafty and also could just throw her across the room, but u know. Points for trying.

* When someone lets her dom them willingly she's an absolutely sadistic fiend. W/ill completely torment them until they're begging and broken, and they have to pleasure her first before she'll show any mercy and allow them to let go. That said, she's got an almost sweet tone to anything she says and is very affectionate the whole time. It's a dichotomy that leaves any subs an absolute wreck. Her absolute fav part is watching ppl squirm and start to leak, it's cute.

* She also likes doing the whole fake sympathy play, where everything nice she says makes it 20x worse for the sub. Poor babies ❤

* Making out so they can't say anything no matter how desperate they are, just writhing underneath her with their whimpers muffled in her mouth? Perfection.

* Slowly pressing her boot into someone's abdomen is her signature move.

Sub Gr/ell:

* Loves the whole humiliation aspect and being all squirmy and nervous in front of (S/EBASTIAN) people, struggling to hide her problems and act casual but knowing her face is flushed red.

* When it gets really bad she gets super whiny and submissive, whimpering and moaning and really playing up the vulnerable aspect. Look how pitiful she is, it would be oh so easy for them to have their way with her~ (and then she bats her eyelashes and they just glare ajdkgk stop fucking around G/rell this is a Serious Scene we talked about this before we started)

* Sometimes she does public holds or gets desperate before a mission/visit just so she can see how long she can get away with it before she has to cave/people get suspicious. It's k/inky, exh/ibitionist, and oh so delicious~

* Lives for (S/EBASTIAN) the dom to get mad and disappointed in her, verbally berating her for not being more composed and embarrassing them in public, manhandling her as she's dragged somewhere more secluded to get ahold of herself, being teased and poked and prodded all while they're sneering in her ear. She wants to feel like the dirtiest, most ashamed and nervous person alive for such a simple need, knowing it's going to come out eventually no matter how hard she tries to be Good, having to beg and plead with teary eyes only to be denied access to the bathroom and told to suck it up and hold it.

* She really liked her original disguise/persona from the Ma/dame Red Days for this exact reason. Could be as shy and stuttery as possible and really play it up, got bossed around/teased by everyone, it was great. Totally got desperate once or twice so 'he' could beg Seb/astian to use the manor bathroom and get pitied. If he 'tripped' and just so happened to lose control and start crying, well, that couldn't be helped...

[fyeahwonderbat]

In the Middle of a Broken Constellation - PT. 5

Pairing: WonderBat (Wonder Woman x Batman) Rating: T / 14A Universe: N/A - Reader’s Choice Previous Chapter: <- Chapter 4

Diana felt ridiculous, which was quite a feat considering she had worn her favourite business attire for such an odd occasion. In a beige blazer dress that could catch the light and shimmer gold, she perceived herself as if she was imbued with the power of the old gods whenever she wore it, but that energy felt like it had been snatched away by the Fates as she walked through the front doors of Wayne Tower. The ruffles that ran vertically over the tops of her thighs caught the breeze that she sauntered through as she made her way towards the front desk, perhaps portraying the confidence that her walk was meant to illustrate.

Her chest lifted high, her lips pursed into a smile, the professional persona of Diana Prince presented herself to the secretary without a single notion of the anxiety she housed inside. “Good morning, my name is Diana Prince and I have an appointment with Lucius Fox for 8:30.”

The young woman behind the desk looked up at her with a similar, polite expression. Matching with every other person who was walking through the lobby, she was polished more like a runway model than a typical corporate employee. The name tag peeking out from beneath the blunt cut of her straight blonde hair said ‘Delilah’ and when she noticed Diana’s eyes scroll down to read it, it was almost reflexive for her to toss her golden locks out of the way. “Excellent. Let me just confirm your appointment, Miss Prince.”

“Of course.” Playing the part of a poised interviewee, it felt natural to fiddle with the cat eye frames she wore as she waited for Delilah to contact Mr. Fox.

However, that earned her a scolding through the earpiece she had hidden beneath her hair. “Don’t move them too much, Diana. The connection is unsteady enough as it is.” Warned a rather exasperated Cyborg. He was very sensitive about the eyewear she wore since he had only outfitted the lenses as a technological miracle the night before; the last twelve hours had been such a chaotic blur while Jason had worked alongside them in their efforts to sneak her into Bruce’s daily life. Almost fitting of the Batman’s protege, it was his sneaking suspicion and his breaking and entering into her Mercedes’ glove compartment at the JLA headquarters that led to the transformation of simple reading glasses into an impromptu x-ray machine of their own so that they could corroborate Kal’s diagnosis.

Though they were most likely not as efficient as the eyes of Superman, it was the best the three of them could do if they planned to expedite her transformation into a Wayne Enterprises staff member.

The only thing Diana had true confidence in was that she knew she interviewed well.

“Miss Prince?” Delilah called to her as she tapped off the call she supposedly had with Lucius through the headset she wore.

She brought her hands together and clutched her resume folder unnecessarily tight when she replied. “Yes?”

The secretary didn’t seem to notice. “Mr. Fox is in a meeting on the thirty fourth floor at the moment, but you can head upstairs through the elevators down the hallway to your left and wait for him outside of Board Room C.”

“Thank you.” Was her final words to Delilah as she followed her directions. The moment she turned her body to face the lobby again, it felt much like a more condensed version of Grand Central Station. There were so many bodies walking in every single direction, all with a purpose in mind, all relatively at the same quickened pace. She knew that Wayne Tower was the epicenter of Wayne Enterprises because it was the base of Mr. Wayne himself, but maneuvering through the multitude of people reminded Diana of a battlefield of sorts.

Or perhaps that was a projection of her Amazonian mind set, given the way she thought of her interview with Lucius Fox to be a battle she couldn’t afford to lose.

So much of their approach to dealing with Bruce’s situation fell onto her shoulders. After Victor’s suggestion that she play the part of a potential hire when they first spoke about it at Drake Manor, Jason refused to accept any sort of rebuttal she had made. It was true that Victor couldn’t have entered the building without drawing attention to himself, and the reaction that Alfred had to the previous Robin insinuated that there would be no favour gained if they sent him in for the meeting.

During their entire time traveling to the JLA headquarters to formulate a plan of attack, Diana hadn’t been able to think of a better person to take her place either.

Now here she was, the next day, riding an elevator to meet the man in charge behind the scenes of Bruce��s company.

“You’ve got this, Diana.” Assured Victor in a whisper, doing his best to lend her some kind of support. She appreciated the gesture, and it never failed to amaze her how such a small gesture could keep her grounded; even though he couldn’t swap places with her, he wasn’t going to leave her to handle this situation on her own. She had until she reached the third-fourth floor to rid herself of any doubts and play herself up to be the corporate version of Wonder Woman - the woman who could accomplish anything, while wearing a power suit instead of a girdle.

When the doors opened, she stepped out onto the floor as if she was prepared to thank Mr. Fox for hiring her on the spot.

Having tumbled through the industrial uprising on her own and having to apply for job after job, updating her credentials constantly and trying to keep up with every advancement that had come and gone over the years, she knew of the energy and fervor that employers looked for when hiring. If she was going to land a position during a meeting she set up last night, she’d need to embody the confidence it would take to impress her future boss.

The signs she saw along the wall indicated the alphabetical conference rooms were to her left, and she merely had to walk towards the room in the corner of the floor to find the one that Delilah had instructed her to visit. Board Room C was hidden behind a dark oak door, but there were some soft-looking seats in the hallway to act as an informal waiting room. She was ready to sit down and perhaps look over the version of her resume that she had brought to the interview, but it appeared as though there wouldn’t be a moment to rest.

The door handle to the boardroom shifted with a rather noise clang before it swung open. Catching the end of a conversation, she heard the final thoughts of one of the people in the meeting, spoken in a strikingly familiar voice. “And I just think that we can do something more by turning some of our focus over to research. It makes no sense to solely work on treatments, considering how much money we can funnel into Wayne Medical!”

The door flew open, and slowly but surely, Bruce Wayne himself entered her line of sight. His hair was messier than she had ever seen it, and one too many of his shirt buttons were left open as he entered the hall. She had never seen such a disheveled version of him, but there was no doubt that she had stumbled upon the man she was looking for much earlier than she could have ever hoped for. Seeing him like this - so soon! - nearly stole the air from her lungs.

A rather grainy chuckle followed closely behind Bruce’s claims, and it was none other than Lucius Fox himself who found those remarks about Wayne Medical hilarious. “Says the man who no longer has to run the numbers.”

The two men let the discussion flow into the hall without much concern for who might also be dallying on the floor. Bruce especially, as he replied with a clipped tone. “Hey, with the money we have, what matters most is…”

Suddenly, he spotted Diana waiting there when he turned to leave, but it looked as if he had walked into an invisible wall when his foot fell to the floor. “...your passion.”

Lucius looked to see what had caught Bruce’s eye, and she suddenly felt like a spectacle. The energy radiating off of her friend was raw, unfiltered as he stood next to a man who gave off a much more regal air. It felt like she had stunned him, awed him, his gaze fixated on her so strongly that it made her skin feel warm beneath her clothes. The chances of finding him in the building within minutes of her arrival was unfathomable, and yet here he was, feasting on the sight of her with a look in his eyes that reminded her of only one other interaction they had ever had.

At a certain party, when the Batman used Bruce Wayne to speak to her privately.

It felt like tearing velcro apart to look away from him, but she had to. Turning to Lucius, she took charge of the awkward beat that passed between them and offered out her hand. “Good morning, my name is Diana Prince.”

“Ah, Miss Prince. Thank you for waiting. I was just finishing an unscheduled meeting with a rather insistant man.” The look he gave Bruce was reprimanding, almost reminiscent of how a father might feel exasperated by their rambunctious son. It was only when he was mocked did the owner of the company realize that he was behaving rather inappropriately, performing a small double take as he looked between the only other people in the hallway.

Diana plastered a casual grin on her face and turned to offer her hand to him, too. “Is that the way to make sure I do well in my interview, Mr. Wayne? Insist that I am the woman for the job?” She quipped at him, all while letting him know that she recognized who he was, despite the ambiguous way that Lucius referred to him. She needed to demonstrate her intelligence as well as promise that she could commit to the role, all while behaving with the air of a seasoned socialite. It was her intention to wow them so that they would be moved to offer her any position, not just the one she applied for in the middle of the night.

But when Bruce took her hand, she felt the corners of her lips quiver. She had been so panicked over the wellbeing of this man for weeks, and now he was casually shaking her hand. Despite the trauma she needed to uncover, he looked looked to be the picture of health and it was striking to have him so close to her when that was all she wanted for an unfair amount of time. This was a different Bruce before her though, that she could tell.

Still, it was him.

Her whole point of being here was to make sure that he was protected, and for the first time while stumbling through this plan, she relished in a single moment.

“Well, I don’t know if Lucius will appreciate anyone emulating me in order to get their foot in the door,” he attempted comedy with her after gawking for much too long, and she had seen the gears inside his mind turn to form a joke with perfect timing. But they kept turning, nearly spinning out of control when he decided to tack on. “Perhaps I should sit in to make sure he’s treating you fairly. He has been known to get rather cranky after dealing with me, you know.”

“That’s not necessary--” Lucius tried to pipe up, but was verbally stomped down.

“Is that not true? Do you not find me irritating at times?”

“You know I can’t argue with that--”

“Great! I’ll be the good cop then. Let’s go!” And he held out his arm in the direction of the boardroom’s open doorway, implying that she was welcome to enter first.

His motive was still hazy, yet it was absolutely transparent. She didn’t sense any sort of sordid energy from him, however, he wasn’t done observing her himself. It hadn’t occurred to her until she nodded with gratitude at his gesture and wandered inside that perhaps he recognized her. She had only assumed that his reaction to Kal had meant that something happened to his memory - was she being watched like a hawk because Bruce realized that she was in his city, unannounced, unwelcomed, and he was secretly unhinged?

All she could do now was wander over to one of the black leather rotating chairs at the table and make her way through the interview that her civilian life hinged on. Diana Prince’s life revolved around the outcome of this interaction, and she couldn’t allow anything to come in the way of that either.

A hiss in her ear warned her of Victor’s voice sounding off again. “I need you to keep him in your line of sight for the entire interview, if we want to take advantage of this opportunity. I know that might be strange, but we can evaluate him faster if we get this information today.”

Of course Bruce had to sit at the head of the table, while Lucius sat across from her. Diana pretended to fix her seat, then crossed her legs rather dramatically so she could afford the angle Cyborg needed without appearing strange. The windows that acted as the exterior walls to the room rested behind her, she watched as the other two fixed themselves in their seats too before the interview began.

She couldn’t help but notice that Bruce’s appearance was much tidier now than it was in the hallway, as if he took advantage of her turned back to fix himself up.

But Lucius pretended that he wasn’t with them at all, and immediately held out his hand for her resume. “Now, I must say Miss Prince, this is a rather odd interview. I’ve never had a call from someone’s current employer in the middle night, giving me a reference for an employee of theirs that I didn’t even know was interested in working for Wayne Enterprises.”

Diana knew this was coming, so she wasn’t at all thrown off balance by the indirect question. “As you can see in my resume, my previous career has allowed me to work all over the world. It allowed me to see places that most do not get a chance to see, and meet people who are most often forgotten. I’ve heard about the people who are infected in places like Metropolis and Central City and Gotham City, and I realized that I could not consciously stand by and carry on with my life anymore without helping those who need it.”

“But why here?” To her surprise, Lucius hadn’t been given the chance to ask a follow up question. Bruce had decided that it was pertinent information to ask her something that felt more like he had taken on the role of a ‘bad cop’, with how sharply he asked her.

She faced him to answer him, and to help Cyborg’s scan. “Because I know that the type of work experience I have would better benefit an organization that tackles these issues on a larger scale. I can travel anywhere I need to be, I can speak many languages, I always conduct myself professionally--”

Apparently, Bruce wasn’t buying her explanation. “No no, I’m asking you why you chose Wayne Enterprises to be your new employer? Why not the Red Cross? Or the Peace Corps? They travel, they probably could use a secretary at their head office.”

His behaviour was irking both herself and Lucius, but she charged at him with her answer before their ‘discussion’ could be interrupted. “I have encountered the Wayne Foundation before, and done my research in regards to their outreach programs. I am not asking to be a secretary, I am intending to be on the ground where the Wayne Foundation is needed.”

Her rebuttal lead to a stare down, which suited her just fine. It had taken a great deal of convincing to make Victor and Jason see that this was the most practical entrance she had into Bruce’s company, and into his personal life. Being a secretary didn’t promise interactions with him beyond appointment-scheduling and possible errand-running; if she worked inside the building for a foundation that traveled and moved his money around, it would most likely result in his presence being more relevant in meetings, in information he’d need for interviews and investors meetings.

She also read articles about his relationship with Lucius Fox, and realized that he was her ticket into his inner circle, so that she could receive more of his time with a genuine excuse to have it.

It nearly startled Diana when Lucius found her response funny, laughing from behind her resume. When Bruce glared at him though, she assumed by the nuances of their friendship that the laughter was actually directed at Mr. Wayne. However, he pushed passed their interaction to address her properly. “So you’re going from an office job that allowed you to travel, to investing all of your time and energy in our international charity organization.”

“Yes.” Was her confident reply. She dare not make it seem as if Bruce’s behaviour turned her off of the opportunity.

Lucius remained calm until the moment he laid her resume back down on the table, then he interrogated her without remorse. “This isn’t the type of work that allows you to take a break when you’re feeling exhausted you know. We need go getters, people who can handle their personal life and their career simultaneously. It can sound cruel, but you won’t be babied if you’re here, even if you’re new. I’d throw you in once all of your documentation is cleared, and then you’ll be expected to stand alongside every other person I have employed at this level. Do you understand that?”

The challenge he was presenting with not only made her respect Lucius, but it also inspired her for this career she was once questionably applying for. This is the man she had read online about, the one known to have the ‘Midas Touch’, where he can turn any failing business into gold due to his own personal strengths. Working for someone as determined as him reminded her of being trained on Themyscira as a girl, where she wanted to master the talent of those above her.

With honest enthusiasm, she answered him. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. I understand that my application seems sudden, but I believe that when you’re passionate about something, you need to chase after it or you waste all of your time worrying about what could have been. The people I hope to help don’t have those opportunities, so I should take advantage of them when I do.”

There was a pause, there was an exchanging of glances between the three of them, but her energy refused to be melted down into any sort of nervous energy.

That is, until she received an update through her earpiece. “We’re only at 21% of the scan. Keep them talking--”

“Well this interview feels like it’s over.” Was Lucius’ ending comment, as he began to raise to his feet. He handed off the resume to a slouching Bruce Wayne, who flipped off the cover page and began to perform a personal audit of her listed experience and credentials. Within the blink of an eye, she went from feeling confident in her presentation to wondering what on Earth had just happened.

“Oh, really? Well, thank you for your time.” She heard herself saying, despite the confusion she felt. She offered her hand again to Lucius robotically while trying to keep Bruce in her line of sight for Victor.

Graciously, Mr. Fox smiled at her as though she interviewed well, but she couldn’t really say since it was over and done with all too quickly. “I’ll be sure to contact you once I’ve received your background check, all right? Thank you for coming in today.”

“Diana! Are you leaving? I can’t move any faster.”

It felt like she was caught in a whirlwind, being told that it was time to go while needing to stay. She looked directly at Bruce and tried to offer him her hand, but all she could was that she had to make this moment last…!

Woo! I made it before the end of the day (in my time zone, at least). I have been working on this all day, so I hope you enjoyed it. I knooow it’s taking a while for WonderBat to happen, so I wanted to make sure you got a taste of something more solid this chapter. Hope you enjoyed, and I WILL see you next Monday! ~ Maiden

[onemustalwaysbecarefulofbooks]

ACOFAS Ramblings

This is gonna be super long-winded. I have a LOT to say. Buckle in, folk 

I have so many feelings on this novella I really don’t even know where to begin. I was really really excited for it and since actually reading it am now left kind of floundering in a weird range of emotions that cover every side of the spectrum. I’ll say it now: I had a lot of issues with it. This “review” (if it can even be called a review) is probably going to come across as really negative and for that I apologize. I don’t LIKE shitting all over books. I am 100% NOT on board with hating, over-analyzing, and criticizing an author/series just because it’s popular. But if there’s one thing I can say about Sarah J. Maas, it’s that she has the surefire knack for turning me from a level-headed logical adult reader to a rabid crazed homicidal lunatic. It happens every time and yet every time I’m still taken by surprise by it each time.

Those of you who follow me or have read any of my reviews before know that I have some pretty mixed feelings on the ACOTAR series. I was one of the (apparently very few) people who loved ACOTAR. I eagerly awaited the second book, only to be left completely shocked and reeling after seeing the direction the story had so abruptly taken. Most of this stems from the way Tamlin’s character was handled and treated demonized by the fandom. I have a whole long rant that goes in-depth about all that. I’ll leave it here. If you don’t feel like going into all of it, I’ll do my best to sum it up: The overwhelming beating-over-the-head message we had forced onto us every 5 seconds that certain characters were perfect and others were abusive neanderthals was obnoxious and unfair to me. I have SO many feelings on that, I’m not going to get into all of it here. If you want to know, read that post ^. But anyway, this colored my judgement on the series as a whole for a long time. Once I had gotten over the initial shock, I went back and re-read both ACOTAR and ACOMAF leading up the release of ACOWAR. I was able to enjoy them 1000x more and even though I didn’t agree with a lot of the things that were going down, I had accepted that they were happening and was holding out for redemption.

At the same time, though. . .I could totally understand how everyone went so bananas over the series??? Whenever I hear it described as crack, I have to pause and reflect on just how accurate that statement really is. It IS an amazing story, Sarah DOES write amazing characters, so many of the things that happen reduce me to a hysterical emotional mess. And yet, if I really stop and think about it, it’s like Ok wait. . .I actually have some major problems with all of this, like some seriously problematic things are at play here and yet I can’t stop reading and being obsessed with it?? Literal book crack, I tell you.

So once I had made peace the best I could with the series up to that point, I was READY for ACOWAR. I was pumped. And I ended up loving it!!! I was so pleasantly surprised on how things went down. Were there things that I still disagreed with, and wished I could shout from the rooftop to the general fandom? You bet there were. But overall I was so impressed with most of the characters and so much enjoying the direction their stories were going that I found it to be a truly satisfying ending that left me eagerly looking forward to what was to come. I was PUMPED for this novella.

And. . .

I had some issues. You bet I did. I understand this is just a novella and not meant to rival what a full blown novel is like in any way. It’s supposed to be a bridge, in a sense, for further growth for the characters. But this just seemed like a step BACK for so many of them that it made me frustrated.

We may as well just start with the Tamlin thing and get it out of the way, because everyone knows I’m going to rant about it. I am filled with so much rage on behalf of his character, it’s not even funny anymore. I am APPALLED at the way he is treated by everyone, Rhys in particular. All of these people saying he’s “not worthy” of forgiveness. . .I can’t. I literally can’t. The hypocrisy here is so strong I can smell it from another dimension. When I think of how many people in Sarah’s books the narrative has set up for us to forgive, despite the ACTUAL horrible things they’ve done (Jurian--seduced Amarantha’s sister into giving up information, then slowly brutally tortured her to death, the Archeron father--sat by knowing that despite being handicapped, he was leading his children down the path of starvation and death by doing nothing whatsoever to help their situation, Manon--spent decades and decades brutally murdering people (I don’t care if you make the argument that this is her grandmother’s fault for ruining her--I fucking love Manon, she’s one of my favorite characters, but it doesn’t change the fact that she has a lot of blood on her hands, and still did all she’s accused of), even fucking ERIS now apparently has some mysterious redemption-maybe thing going on) I just want to scream. What unforgivable crime is Tamlin guilty of??????? Misunderstanding Feyre? Being delusional? Being immature and talking inappropriate shit in front of other people??

Tamlin NEVER tells Feyre she is “not allowed” or “not worthy” to be a High Lady. NO ONE in Prythian has High Ladies! Feyre tells him she DOESN’T want to be one and he’s like “Don’t worry babe, that’s cool, they’re not really a thing anyway”. Unimpressive? No doubt. But if you’re going to shit all over Tamlin for this reason, then you’d better start doing it to every other High Lord too, given how utterly shocked they are when Feyre and Rhys show up to that High Lords meeting in ACOWAR and announce that Feyre is High Lady. You’d better start saying it about Kallias too, who clearly respects, trusts, and adores Viviane, but has not made her his High Lady.  It is literally treated as something Rhys and Feyre made up.

Tamlin has to watch Rhys basically strip Feyre, paint her body with all kinds of weird tattoo art, and drug her into oblivion night after night Under the Mountain. Don’t tell me none of you were a little skeeved by this in ACOTAR. Don’t tell me there wasn’t ONE of you that wasn’t like Wow, this guy is a fucking creep. I’m NOT saying Rhys IS a fucking creep, he is far from it.  I’m merely saying it’s not far-fetched at all for someone to think that about him after witnessing that, BECAUSE HE IS ACTING LIKE A FUCKING CREEP. Yes yes yes, we all now understand WHY he did it but guess what?? Tamlin doesn’t! BECAUSE NO ONE FUCKING COMMUNICATES WITH EACH OTHER IN THIS SERIES!!!! (Oh believe me, this is something I’m about to make a fucking point of in a little bit). Tamlin thinks Amarantha’s boyfriend, the guy who treats Feyre this way, has tricked her into residing in his court that no one has ever seen or been to, but Amarantha supposedly modeled her own after. DELUSIONAL DELUSIONAL DELUSIONAL!!! The fact that he couldn’t see how badly Feyre was suffering shows how poorly suited they are for each other. On top of that, we’re told in ACOWAR that finding a mate in the romantic sense that Feyre and Rhys have is rare. Mating bonds can be as simple as the matching of the most productive DNA. Tamlin AND Rhys’s parents were mates who were “wrong” for each other. Rhys gives a whole speech to Feyre about how sometimes the males who were mated to a female feel that they are “entitled” to her and will fight the male she has chosen for herself to the death. While I personally believe this was only added in to bring about drama to the Elain-Lucien-Azriel mess, if it’s something we’re actually sticking to, it certainly sheds a new light on the way Tamlin reacted in Hybern at the end of ACOMAF, where he was snarling at Rhys that he didn’t give a shit if he was Feyre’s mate. Again: DE. LOU. SION. AL. But being a delusional dumb ass is NOT the same thing as being a controlling entitled psychopath. Tamlin, the dumb motherfucker that he is, has no idea that Rhys has even been good to Feyre in any way. Feyre does not say, “We’re in love” and he responds with “I don’t give a shit”. THAT would be as bad as everyone is acting like it is.

The two things I absolutely will give the Tamlin criticizers are: him finally locking her up in the manor and his appalling and completely out-of-line behavior at the High Lords meeting. There’s no good explanation for him shutting her in the manor, other than the fact that he let his own PTSD, fear, and rage get the best of him and control his actions. It was WRONG and he 100% owes her an actual apology for it. I completely understand Feyre harboring bad feelings towards him for that. And then the High Lords meeting. . .come on, dude. It was embarrassing af. I get that he was hurt and pissed and embarrassed, but coming in there and trash talking them, bringing up their former sex life. . .no. It was way out-of-line.

The rest of it, though. . .Rhys keeps harping on and on about how badly Tamlin “hurt” Feyre. I’m sure I’ll get enough hate mail to wrap around the circumference of the world for this, but. . .how? What did he REALLY do that is so unworthy of forgiveness? Wanted her to wear fancy dresses and be an accessory as he ruled the Spring Court? Have his babies? Buried his head in the sand and wasn’t able to cope with her PTSD because he was knee-deep in issues of his own? Locking her up in the manor, fine. I’m 100% with you on that. But like. . .I’d just like to say. In ACOTAR, Rhys deliberately pushed on a bone protruding from Feyre’s arm to get her to cooperate him and agree to agreeing with him. Not only is he completely forgiven for it, it is never brought up again once in the entire series. If that’s going to be brushed aside and ignored, we REALLY can’t forgive Tamlin for making a really poor decision? No one is denying what he did was wrong, least of all me. But my God. You can’t even say that he sided with Hybern and fucked everyone over to get her back. He made it very clear in ACOWAR that he did this purely to gain assistance in (what he believed was) rescuing her, and then planned to take Hybern down from the inside. Do not tell me Rhys wouldn't do the same thing for her. Rhys DID do the same thing for his family and the entire city of Velaris. Rhys did horrible things to protect the people he loved. Imagine how Clare Beddor’s family would feel towards him, and what he subjected her to in the name of protecting Feyre. I know Rhys took all her pain away from her in the moment of the actual torturing but in the case of the point I’m making, that is so not the point. She was still kidnapped from her home and undoubtedly terrified beyond belief. She was still degraded and humiliated in front of strangers who meant her harm. Her family still lost a daughter. Do I blame Rhys for it? No. He took a really awful situation and did what he could to do the best for his loved ones. The world isn’t black and white, sometimes people are forced to choose between a bad choice or a even worse choice. He gets the benefit of the doubt, but Tamlin never does. Anyway, all of these things. . .wanting to mold her into something she’s not, consuming himself in his own head rather than making an effort to dig deeper with her, to me just sounds like two people who aren’t well suited for each other. I’d really like to think that had these people communicated like actual adults, it all most likely could have been peacefully resolved without all this bullshit and drama. Feyre and Tamlin DESPERATELY need to sit down and have an actual conversation, WITHOUT RHYS PRESENT.

So yeah. To see JURIAN, who literally intentionally seduced a woman and then brutally tortured her to death, now apparently be Not So Bad After All and hanging out in the Lucien friend gang but see Tamlin being scorned and mocked and completely dismissed for any sort of redemption is blood boiling to me.

“But--peace. We had peace within our sights.

I could rip him apart after we attained it.”

“Low. It was a low blow. I  had everything--everything I’d wished for, dreamed of, begged the stars to give me.

He had nothing. Had been given everything and squandered it. He didn’t deserve my pity, my sympathy.

No, Tamlin deserved what he’d brought on himself, this husk of a life.

He deserved every empty room, every snarl of thorns, every meal he had to hunt for himself.”

“You deserve everything that has befallen you. You deserve this pathetic, empty house, your ravaged lands. I don’t care if you offered that kernel of life to save me, I don’t care if you still love my mate. I don’t care that you saved her from Hybern, or a thousand enemies before that. I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here. It’s a far more satisfying end than slaughtering you.”

Congratulations, Rhys. All this I hear about the Honorable, Self-Sacrificing, Most Powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history, and you’ve managed to make me see you as nothing more than a Grade A Dick.

HOW you can bring yourself to be that cruel to someone that is in the level of disparity that he is in is beyond me. Unless he’s a straight up rapist or murderer, I do not believe he deserves this one bit. Feyre “survived” him. . .I have never heard a more overdramatic statement in my life. Feyre survived her severe PTSD. Tamlin was not the cause of this. He did nothing to help it, which is a pretty dick move and definitely not the way you want to treat someone you claim to love, but he is not where her issues were stemming from. Tamlin was severely misguided but his intentions were good. I know no one on the face of the Earth wants to hear that, but is the literal truth. He owes some major apologies and could benefit from some serious self-reflection but Rhys is treating him like he shackled Feyre in a dungeon and beat and raped her repeatedly.

Basically, Rhysand needs to Chill The Fuck Out about many things, and I’ll touch more on this later.

What’s very conflicting for me right now is the direction Sarah’s trying to lead us in. A big thing that I’ve been an advocate of lately is that a character’s thoughts, opinions, and beliefs do NOT mean the author holds those same thoughts, opinions, and beliefs. When people criticize a character’s actions for being problematic, I try to consider the fact that maybe it was intentional of the author to write them this way. Maybe they’re not trying to make them this pillar of morality, maybe they’re just being a character that, at the end of the day, is just that: a character. A form of entertainment. The confliction I’m here is that the narrative has been incredibly biased towards Rhys and Feyre since the first page of ACOMAF. Pretty much every single thing up to this point has been presented as whatever they think, say, and do is what everyone is cheering for. So like. . .does Sarah herself actually feel this way about Tamlin? Or is she just giving us what she truly thinks Rhys and Feyre are feeling about Tamlin at this point, whether that’s right or wrong? I’d truly like to hope for the latter but I honestly can’t tell. Some people are theorizing that this was intentional, to make Rhys seem not quite so saintly and perfect. . .to give him true flaws and an ugly side, to make him more realistic. But I can’t even really find satisfaction in this until I know for sure. All I know is, we haven’t seen the last of him yet. I still think that random girl they rescued from the Hybern camp with Elain is his mate, Briar. (“I spoke to Vairan, Prince of Adriata,” I said, lingering on the other side of the table,the rack of antlers like a briar of thorns between us). Briar Rose, Court of Thorns and Roses, Sleeping Beauty, blah blah blah. I’d bet money on it. At this point, I’d need to see a hardcore turn around in his character and the way he’s treated by the fandom to be satisfied.

Another character I’m pretty appalled at the treatment of is Lucien. Feyre’s attitude towards him in this really pissed me off.

“Interesting.”

His golden eye whirred. “What is.” (OMFG STOP WITH THE QUESTIONS WITHOUT QUESTION MARKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Not feeling very festive at all, I said sharply, “That you now feel more comfortable with humans than with High Fae. If you ask me--”

“I’m not.”

“It seems like you’ve decided to fall in with two people without homes of their own as well.”

Yo Feyre, who had a hand in making it so that he has no home?! Honestly, keep your preachy shit to yourself.

“And what, exactly, does this Band of Exiles plan to do? Host events? Organize party-planning committees?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. You ruined any chance I have of going back to Spring. Not to Tamlin, but to the court beyond his house. Everyone either still believes the lies you spun or they believe me complicit in your deceit. And as for here. . .I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can’t stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back.”

Feyre acknowledges that she holds part of the blame for the position he’s in, for the rift she helped create between him and Tamlin. But she “didn’t feel quite guilty enough to warrant apologizing for it. Not yet. Possibly not ever”. Like for God’s sake, is there no end in punishment for some of these people????? It’s like the narrative has decided that there are just some people who’s pain and problems don’t matter (and apparently Jurian, the torturer and murderer, is not one of them). Lucien was a doormat to Tamlin and didn’t step up to help Feyre when she needed someone. But Feyre’s Holier Than Thou attitude towards him is getting old. Lucien has, in my eyes, more than made up for anything Feyre could still be upset about towards him. In some ways, you could argue that he was a victim of Tamlin just as much as she was! He clearly felt super indebted to him because of how Tamlin took him in after he had been exiled from the Autumn Court. He got his eyeball clawed out delivering a message for Tamlin. He was held Under the Mountain and was inches away from being brutally killed (remember Feyre’s second task?). He endured Calanmai in Tamlin’s place. And then he finally decides what he believes in and stands for, and leaves the Spring Court with her. He defends her against his brothers and then finds himself in a foreign court among people he always heard were violent and untrustworthy. He’s viewed as an outsider but he does his best to do what he can for the cause against Hybern. He has no true home, no family that cares about him, no true place in the world. He’s clearly struggling with the mating bond, but respects Elain, gives her her space, and doesn’t try and force himself on her. Not to mention he was the only one who was dropping truth bombs in this entire damned thing: “Your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male”.

And as far as the whole mating bond thing with them even goes. . .aadskflsdjfsjkdslk. If I had one ounce of sense, I would FORCE myself to not care about the situation. I would make myself believe I didn’t have any sort of preference, and that Elain could end up with either him or Azriel and it wouldn't make a difference for me. I know how SJM operates and it has come back to bite me in the ass one too many times. But of course, being a complete masochist, I have set myself up for stress and strife as an Elucien shipper. Not exactly warm and fuzzy feels from these two in this installment. I’m fine though, I’m not mad. It’s true, Elain doesn’t really owe him anything just because they’re mates (perhaps this was the mindset Tamlin had when he first heard Rhys was Feyre’s mate when he believed Feyre still loved him??? Ever occur to anyone???) and if she doesn’t want to be with him that way, of course she doesn’t have to. She’s cold to him, but I think that’s because he’s an obvious physical reminder of the permanence of her Fae life, which she’s obviously still struggling with. She clearly has some issues of her own to work through still, and this isn’t what she needs right now. I’m sure we’ll be dragged through all kinds of shit before we can come to a resolution.

Another HUGE topic of debate right now is Nesta. It’s what I’ve seen people talking about the most. Again, my emotions are a giant clusterfuck regarding this right now because I am so conflicted. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I pretty much agree with everything everyone’s saying on both sides of the argument apart from one thing. I completely disagree with those who are saying that her behavior right now is out of character. This is what I was fully expecting after ACOMAF. I was fully prepared to see her in this state in ACOWAR. Given the deep inner rage we often her about her having, the circumstances under which she became Fae, and all the other shit going on, I figured we had a long and ugly road ahead of us in ACOWAR. When we finally saw her again and found that she wasn’t in this state, I was pleasantly surprised. She clearly had some issues (the whole bathtub thing was heartbreaking) but overall, she was a much more pleasant character to read about than she ever had been before. She was treating Feyre better, she was taking action toward solving problems that affected her, rather than making others do it out of spite, she had some nice moments with Cassian. I found myself warming to her a lot. This one started and it was just immediately a night and day difference. Initially, my question was. . .why now? I didn’t mean that to sound sarcastic or shity, I was really wondering. Now I’m thinking the delay of the onslaught of all this is due to a few things: the fact that she really was this messed up over the whole thing the whole time but was just powering through it because Elain was suffering, the violence she was exposed to in the war, and the complicated feelings she now probably has towards their father.

I have super complicated feelings about Nesta, I always have. I know a lot of people really love her as a character but I find myself hovering somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Point blank: She was awful to Feyre in their human life. And I’m not even talking about “letting” Feyre take on all the responsibility of providing for all of them and do all the hunting. That’s something that really gets me irritated. Just because Nesta was 3 years older than Feyre does not mean that she should be held to the same standard that Feyre’s parent should have been. It was that FATHER’S job to provide for his CHILDREN. Nesta was just as much a victim in that situation as Feyre was. They were all still children when they were going through that shit. . .why should Nesta be expected to figure out how to take care of all of them any more than Feyre had to? It was heartbreaking that that was placed on her shoulders. I don’t blame Nesta for that. What I DO blame her for is how utterly cruel and awful she treated Feyre on a day-to-day basis. When I went back and re-read ACOTAR last year, I was SHOCKED at how blatantly terrible she is to Feyre, I had forgotten how bad it was. For the first part of that book, every thought of self-doubt, unworthiness, or self-hatred Feyre thinks to herself is spoken internally in Nesta’s voice. I’m not exaggerating when I say that--she literally says she hears it in Nesta’s voice. She’s just honestly horrendous overall.

Nesta rose and declared: “I need a new pair of boots.”

I kept quiet, knowing better than to get in the middle of one of their arguments, but I glanced at Nesta’s stil-shiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together by only fraying laces.

I looked up in time to see Nesta crinkle her nose with a sniff. She picked at my cloak. “You stink like a pig covered in it’s own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?

I didn’t let the sting and ache show. I’d been too young to learn more than the basics of manners and reading and writing when our family had fallen into misfortune and she’d never let me forget it.

Nesta’s nostrils delicately flared. “There’s nothing you can do. Clare Beddor told me this afternoon that Tomas is going to propose to me any day now. And then I’ll never have to eat these scraps again.” She added with a small smile, “At least I don’t have to resort to rutting in the hay with Isaac Hale like an animal.”

“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up and someday--someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you or to care that you ever existed.”

I don’t really care if you have rage issues or whatever. I don’t really care if you have all this pent up aggression towards your father and are embarrassed that you suck at hunting and can’t provide for the family the way Feyre can. You can still recognize that she has a talent you don’t, and be pleasant, kind, and decent to her instead of looking for ways to unnecessarily insult her. That’s where my issue stems from. The thing I keep seeing brought up (lbr, by Rhys) is that she let her 14 year old sister go off in the woods and didn’t do anything to help. But I’m just like Uhhh forget all that, just tell me why you gotta be such an awful bitch to Feyre?! Now really, I think I know why. Sarah has said herself in interviews that Nesta and Elain were two characters that started out as really one dimensional and surprised her with the direction their characters ended up going and the huge part they ended up playing. I honestly think that at the time she published ACOTAR, she hadn’t made these decisions yet. Nesta is just too awful. Yeah she goes and tries to hunt her down after Tamlin takes her, but she’s so wretched in the beginning that I have to think this was when SJM was simply trying to portray the two wicked sisters thing (which was a thing in the original Beauty and the Beast fairytale).

So yeah, I really REALLY don’t like the person she was at the beginning of the series. All throughout ACOMAF and ACOWAR I would find myself hopping on board the Nesta Is Awesome Train and then come to a screeching halt when I remembered this. She feels so deeply. . .so she tears Feyre down and makes her feel like shit? And yet I’m still pretty invested in her as a character? I don’t even know. I liked the direction her character seemed to be heading, especially after ACOWAR so I was on board for a healing/redemption thing.

Now, did I like where her character’s story was going in this one? Fuck no!!!! Of course not!! Who would?! It was downright unpleasant and draining to read about. Her behavior was destructive and tedious and painful to witness. Maybe I was just getting frustrated because I’m NOT a fan of over-drawn out angst. Like. . .we all know she’s gonna end up a scarred but healed, stronger person like Feyre and live Happily Ever After with Cassian. @thoughtsontomes puts it best in her ACOWAR review video when she says, All we’re hearing is “I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care about any of you!!!! I hate you all, F*** YOU!” when it’s like, “. . . .you don’t though. Like stop. No one really believes you. So just . . stop”. Everyone’s flipping out about the apparent slut-shaming, but that’s not how I saw it. What she’s doing isn’t healthy, in any sense of the word. I saw an objection more towards her motives than the number of men she was entertaining. Sleeping with that high number of strangers when you’re in such a bad place like that has the potential to cause even more lasting damage. So I’m not surprised most of them were like “Um wtf are you doing??”.

The fact that she’s spending through Feyre and Rhys’s money without doing a single thing to earn it was also gross. When she was like “I’ll come to your Solstice thing if you give me three months of rent” I was just like

And then Oh yeah HAHA I’m so dumping all these ridiculous bar charges onto Feyre cuz she won’t ever NOT pay it HAHAHAHA 

Look. I get it. She’s suffering. She’s going through some MAJOR shit right now, rivaling (if not worse than) what Feyre went through after ACOTAR. She’s not going through it the same way Feyre did, not at all. Feyre’s manifested itself in hopelessness and despondence, which made it easy for our hearts to bleed for her. Nesta’s is all manifesting in seriously self-destructive behavior. She was unpleasant before she started going through this, she’s unbearable now. This is raw and realistic, but it’s not fun to read about. So I get what people are saying who are feeling annoyed by her story arc.

On the other hand, as I said, SHE IS SUFFERING. Like A LOT. So while I can find myself getting frustrated by having to watch her go through this, a part of me wonders how everyone in the Inner Circle can just dismiss the deep trauma she’s clearly going through. I COMPLETELY agree with everyone who is saying that the way Nesta is being treated by all of them is essentially the same way Tamlin was treating Feyre, which the fandom jumped all over. What did everyone say Tamlin did? Witnessed someone he supposedly cared about wither away into nothingness and didn’t do much of anything about it? Yep, check. At least with him I could say that he was dealing with his own form of PTSD at the time and the relationship fell apart because they couldn’t give each other what the other needed. With these guys it’s like. . .you completely villainize Tamlin for doing this to Feyre, but yet you turn right around and do it to someone else, because her trauma is expressed in a different and more hostile, destructive way than Feyre’s was. And what is Rhys’s justification for that? He can’t forgive Nesta for how she treated Feyre.

One of the main criticisms I see against Tamlin is that he smothered Feyre. He never gave her room to breathe, to be her own person and do her own thing. The only thing that mattered was preserving her and her precious delicate self. I’m just gonna call it like I see it, I’m seeing pretty close to the same thing with Rhys now.

He needs to Chill The Fuck Out. People are going to hurt Feyre. People are going to insult Feyre. People are going to do things that inconvenience, put-out, and piss off Feyre. He has to learn to find some chill with this.

The whole “Elain is Elain” justification for why he has no issues with her but does with Nesta is the most BULLSHIT thing I have EVER read. Um I’m sorry, what?????? Elain is Elain (whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean--if I were Elain I’d actually feel pretty insulted by that. I did the same as Nesta but apparently I’m some ditzy simpleton who didn’t realize what she was doing and shouldn’t be held to the same standards as everyone else?) but Nesta has an Illyrian heart so she should have known better?!? Like I don’t even know where to begin. Elain did the exact same thing you are claiming you’re so upset with Nesta with: let Feyre go off and do the hunting on her own at a young age. Did Elain do a single thing to stop this? No. They literally did the exact same thing. So let’s be real here, Rhys. What you meant by this was: Elain is nice to Feyre and Nesta wasn’t/isn’t. That’s the issue you have here. It’s not that bullshit about Nesta having an Illyrian heart or whatever, it’s that she’s mean to your precious Feyre and you can’t tolerate that. Don’t believe me? He literally says it in the book:

“You can still barely talk to Nesta,” I said. “Yet Elain you can talk to nicely.”

“Elain is Elain.”

“If you blame one, you have to blame the other.”

“No, I don’t. Elain is Elain,” he repeated. “Nesta is. . .she’s Illyrian. I mean that as a compliment, but she’s an Illyrian at heart. So there is no excuse for her behavior.”

“She more than made up for it last summer, Rhys.”

“I cannot forgive anyone who made you suffer.”

Like if he’s really mad at her for being a bitch to Feyre, say you’re mad at her for being a bitch to Feyre!!!!!!! But again, it’s this whole “Should that be my Solstice gift to you? Forgiving Nesta for letting her fourteen year-old sister go into into those woods?” instead of “I really have issues with how ungrateful she acted towards you and how nasty she was in general”. Like, come on, Rhys. I also think Nesta was downright horrible and awful to Feyre in their human life, but like Feyre says, LET’S MOVE ON. She’s clearly let go of it after seeing Nesta working towards making up for it. You can not walk around snarling and hissing and threatening disembowelment to anyone who hurts Feyre’s feelings. You can’t forgive anyone who made her suffer? You’re in for a very long (immortally long) life of negativity and hostility then. Put your Big Boy Pants on and let Feyre handle the situation between her and her sister. If she’s cool with it, be cool with it. Think whatever you want to yourself, vent about it to other people, but quit being this way to Nesta in front of Feyre.

The whole sneak peek at the end was cringey between the two of them also. I can handle Rhys interrupting her and snarling at her to sit down. It wasn’t sweet and nice but let’s be real, she NEEDED someone to get in her face and make her listen at that point. No, for me it was the fact that it made Nesta so afraid to be near him and that kind of power, and when Rhys scented that fear, “one side of his mouth curled up in a cruel smile.”

Yo, if Tamlin had been the one in this scene instead of Rhys, he would be CRU. CI. FIED. I was EXTREMELY glad to see Feyre basically tell him to stfu and put him in his place. Like WTF Rhys. Is this deliberate on SJM’s part? Is this her attempt to “humanize” Rhys and give him flaws, since he basically didn’t have any before??? If so, I appreciate the effort, but maybe give him some that don’t make him like a controlling psychopath (because that title’s reserved for Tamlin and Tamlin only, amirite?! If this were Tamlin, it would be all about his need to control a situation.)

UGH, and Rhys and Feyre talking about Lucien coming for Solstice and him telling Feyre he could “stomach him”.

“I can let go of the taunts”. What taunts?????? Are you for real??? Hate to break it to you Rhys, but are you forgetting the fact that in ACOTAR you showed up to the manor and taunted Lucien about the female he loved being murdered in front of him????? YES, I KNOW HE WAS DOING THIS DELIBERATELY AND DIDN’T REALLY MEAN ANY OF IT AND WOULD NEVER SAY IT IN REAL LIFE. But Lucien had no way of knowing this until very very recently. Here’s the 497th thing that enrages me in this series: the Inner Circle getting shitty towards people for treating Rhys like a bad guy. Like. I’m sorry. I understand it’s frustrating and heartbreaking to see him be viewed and spoken about this way, but this was by his own doing. He literally WANTED people to think this about him. It was his way of protecting Velaris. You can not expect a complete 360 degree turn overnight. Did it happen this way with Feyre?!?!? NO!!!! You have to give people a chance to really get to see and know him before this can happen.

“And the fact that he still harbors some hope of one day reuniting with Tamlin.” Oh yeah, how DARE HE want to reconcile the destroyed friendship he has with the one person who was there for him when his family murdered the woman he loved and kicked him out of his home. How DARE he try and be sympathetic towards Tamlin and want to try and work things out and make them better for both of them. How DARE he want to be able to go back and live in the place that’s become his home. Stfu Rhys.

“But I cannot let go of how he treated you after Under the Mountain.”

“I can. I’ve forgiven him for that.”

“Well, you’ll forgive me if I can’t.” Icy rage darkened the stars in those violet eyes.

I’d like to take everybody back to ACOMAF and this passage that sent everyone screaming from the rooftops, ready with their pitchforks and knives to castrate someone:

“I don’t give a shit if she’s your mate. I don’t give a shit if you think you’re entitled to her. She is mine--and one day, I am going to repay every bit of pain she felt, every bit of suffering and despair. One day, perhaps when she decides she wants to end you, I’ll be happy to oblige her.”

Nothing further needs to be said about THAT.

I said I was going to make a point of the communication issues later on, so here it is: so many of the problems/underlying tension in this series would be solved if people actually communicated with each other like rational adults. I understand that a book with no conflict is boring and stupid, but I’ve just read so many series where the conflict is happening OUTSIDE of the characters, and we see how they have to deal with it. I mean like, it is really really bad in here. No one communicates issues with each other. Feyre doesn’t communicate with Tamlin. Tamlin doesn’t communicate with Feyre. Mor doesn’t communicate with Azriel. Azriel doesn’t communicate with Mor. Cassian doesn’t communicate with Nesta. Nesta doesn’t communicate with anyone. The only ones who seem to consistently have open honest communication with each other are Rhys and Feyre which honestly, at this point, why am I not surprised. Feyre and Tamlin suffer from an abominable lack of communication. Everyone shits all over him for not doing anything to help her after Under the Mountain. But sometimes you have to tell people what you want. I don’t necessarily feel like Feyre expected him to read her mind but at no point does she sit down with him and give it to him straight how it really is with her: I’m struggling and I’m struggling hard. With the way things are going, ______________ is going to happen. What I need from you right now is ____________. Either we can try and work on it together, or I’ll have to find something else that works for me. It’s pretty widely accepted that Tamlin developed some PTSD of his own after ACOTAR and his behavior in ACOMAF is stemming from it. Fine, whatever. But nowhere does he sit Feyre down and lay it all out for her: I’ve been dealing with violent horrible shit all my life. You are the first good thing to happen to me in years. Having to watch you go through that and being powerless to do anything broke me in ways I didn’t know I could be broken. I feel so guilty and awful that you went through that in the name of love for me that I feel like I owe it to you now to keep you as physically safe as possible. If I’m coming across too strong, we can work it out together. (I’m still holding out that this conversation will happen). Mor never tells Azriel she doesn’t love him romantically. I’m not even talking about her sexual preference to females. I’m just really confused why she couldn’t just be like, “You’re a really great guy, but I don’t see you that way. I’m not attracted to you, you’re like my brother”, just like you would any other guy you don’t want to date. Her preference for females doesn’t even need to be brought into it. Az never confronts Mor and is like “When are we going to stop playing this pining game, like it’s been 500 years. These are my feelings for you, do you reciprocate, or don’t you?” (I know Rhys claimed it’s because he feels unworthy of her, but how long were they going to let this go on for? It’s been 500 years). Cassian, I will admit, does finally begin to be one of the first to drop the bullshitting around and have an open and frank conversation with Nesta. It doesn’t go anywhere, but I’ll at least give him credit for trying. Nesta opens up to no one, not even Elain. I get that this is literally part of who she is as a character so I’ll give her that. Some people are literally just like that. But no one can deny that it would be healthy for her to get her feelings out at this point. I mean seriously, the list of issues is endless. Feyre doesn’t give Tamlin a real explanation behind why she left. She doesn’t tell him she’s happy with Rhys and he’s treating her well. They don’t tell anyone (at first) that Rhys’s whole thing with Amarantha was an act and he’s really an honorable noble person. Tamlin doesn’t tell Feyre the real reason he supposedly sided with Hybern and what he was planning to do. Instead, all these people let all these issues sit and stew and stew until they boil over into some big, ugly, dramatic thing. I’m hoping that in this next part of the series, we’ll see some resolvement with all this. These conversations that need to happen will happen. Because until then, it’s frustrating.

The only other thing I wanted to touch on was the baby thing. I’m not really surprised at all about it. Honestly, since the moment I heard Sarah was pregnant, I figured it was only a matter of time before we saw something pregnancy related pop up in one of the series. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I am a HUGE HUGE sucker for domestic things like this. I want to see the whole married with babies epilogue with a big pretty bow on top. Normally any time something baby related is brought up, I’m like UH YES PLZ anytime now would be fine (as long as the characters are in a strong committed relationship with no serious factors affecting it). But when Feyre said she wanted to wait, I totally understood. They are immortal, they have YEARS for this to happen. I liked them falling into their new role as High Lord and Lady, taking their time to slowly but surely recover the best they could from their ordeal, and enjoy each other for a while (because in the grand scheme of things as far as fae go, they’ve barely been together for any time at all). To hear it so soon WAS unexpected, but like I said, also totally not at the same time. I really really thought the reason they were calling Nesta to the New Feysand Palace in the sneak peek chapter was to tell her Feyre was pregnant (you know it’ll happen in the new series). Let’s all pray hard for their future kid though, because while every other child always has the awful possibility of losing a parent and being raised by one, theirs would automatically be an orphan. Their “when one of us dies, the other will” pact/bond was the dumbest thing I’ve ever read.

I swear to God, every time Rhys called her “mate” when he was speaking to her, I read him totally speaking in an Australian accent. It really made me LOL.

You know what DIDN’T?!

“Watch how I fuck you, Feyre.”

One last thing really quickly. . .what is up with this world building? Reading ACOTAR, I got a very clear sense of a high fantasy/medieval-y world. Then ACOMAF opens with Feyre puking into a toilet. I was like Huh?! Toilets? Ooookkay. Then throughout ACOMAF, Feyre is mentioned many times wearing things like leggings, sweaters, and boots. There is a leather sofa in the Chapter 55 Mountain Cabin. Like what else is in there?? A plasma flat screen??

I feel like I just did nothing but spew negativity for the past million years and I DON’T LIKE IT. I’ll say it again: I take no pleasure in feeling any of these things. I am not about hating on an author or series just because it’s become popular. Like I said, CRACK. I definitely feel all these things pretty strongly, but at the same time, I am very much in love with the series. I’m attached to the characters, I’m sucked into the story. I want everyone to be happy. I know you may not believe it, but there ARE things I enjoyed about this novella. A few of them are:

The background information we got about Cassian’s mother and how she is the main motivator in pretty much everything he does. Break my heart :(

The description of the Winter Solstice in the Winter Court. Seriously, it sounded so glorious I had to pause reading for a second and dwell on how badly I wanted to be there for it.

Amren having issues with peeing :D

Amren in general and the bluntness with which she calls people on their shit (“Don’t take her to the wine--take her to the food. I can see her bony ass even through that dress.”)

Feyre helping the children of the Night Court heal their trauma through art.

I think that’s basically it. I’m sorry most of this sounded so negative, but it was all pretty much word vomit. I had so many feelings built up that I just had to get them all out and I feel a lot better now. Do we have a release date for the next one? Like I said: BOOK. CRACK.

[satire-please]

TimDrakeWeek 2017 Day 2: Childhood/Adulthood DamiTim

Excited to try this with @iphoenixrising, @the-all-seer and @rahndom if they still want to jump and do a day. :D So far it’s been really fun.

Damian outgrew Tim in his fifteenth year.

In that summer to be precise. Though the sun baked the concrete to the point that everyone stayed inside to not fry to death...it had been a very dark summer for Tim.

Damian hadn’t been subtle at all. Anytime Tim stopped by the manor for a chemical analysis, a briefing from B or retrieve a casefile the current robin would stand side by side next to Tim. Look, compare and smirk. In June the brat was about to the bridge of his nose, by August...he was a hair taller.

“A centimeter is more than a hair I believe, Drake.”

“It’s the width of your pinky, now stop gloating.” With a hand, he pushes Damian back slightly. The teen’s been bad with personal space lately. Crowding him against walls before a mission just to prove heights is rude, dude. It’s almost as if the assassin is relishing the fact that now he can look down on Tim physically as well as emotionally.

“I’m just admiring my new perspective. This angle is surprisingly pleasing to me.” See. Tim doesn’t even know why he’s pissed. He should have been resigned the moment the tiny hell child announced Bruce was his father.

Still the fact itches. “Look, I know oxygen is thinner up there, but could you try not to lose too many brain cells?”

“I’ll try, though the weather up here is quite lovely.” Oh Alfred’s Apple Pie, Damians learned puns. Now Tim has to murder Dick. Especially when the smile Damian gives has a touch of fang. “Now come along, father needs us.”

The boy, ‘cause height difference or not that’s what he is, turns away dramatically after beckoning Tim to follow him.

“Worst. Summer. Ever.”

Dick of course makes it worse, “Who’s my shortest adorable brother?” He coos obnoxiously. Like one of those fat women making baby noises at their pet dog. His palms squish either side of Tim’s face and Tim swears to all higher powers that if Dick tries to rub their noses together he’s gonna bite him. “You are! You’re officially the shortest ruthless vigilante in the family now. I should twitter about this...to everyone.”

“If you don’t get your hands off me right now, I’m going to string you in your underwear somewhere for Bab’s viewing pleasure again.”

Dick’s fingers fly off his face as if it’s scalding. “Awwwwww, you don’t have to get that vicious Timmy.”

“I’m always this vicious, you dick. One day my pain will be yours and on that day I’ll will  remember this moment and you will be sorry.” Tim promises with spite.

Dick coyly presses a hand over his heart, "Oh Timmy, my darling petite–omph,” Dick could dodge the first strike to his thorax, but not the second. But still he wheezes out, “That would never happen!”

It happens.

“How could this happen?” Tim vindictively snickers at Dick’s cry when Damian hits seventeen. A month away for a mission and now he’s reduced to whining that Damian's not the right size to cuddle anymore. "He doesn't fit under my chin anymore." He sobs, tucking Tim under said chin tighter as Tim repeatedly attacks his kidneys. "And he keeps dragging me along if I hug him from behind. Like my weight doesn't even matter!"

"Ha. Serves you right." Tim twists around to slap his hands on Dick’s face, “Who’s the second shortest vigilante in the family now? It’s you, Dick. It’s you.”

“You’re so meeeeeeeeeean.” Dick wiggles his head closer until their noses smash together, “What did I ever do to get brothers as cruel as you?”

“It’s in your namesake, Dick.” Tim starts struggling in earnest to get away from the clingy hero. He is not a stuffed animal and would very much appreciate if his ‘siblings’ treated him less so. “Or it’s karma. Take your pick.”

Dick grumbles and childishly cheats by using his legs to make the hold more difficult.

Yet as Tim contemplates his fate on the floor in this horrid octopus grip he actually has to admit...Damian has seemed to mellow out?

“Did you forget who’s the senior vigilante here? Just because you inherited B’s monstrous height doesn’t mean you’re any less of a brat Damian.”

Damian taunting sweeps his arm towards the entrance, “My apologies, age before beauty, then again with your delicate bone structure perhaps you would account for both.”

Tim freezes. Is Damian...flirting with him? He shakes his head, nah. Headgames must be another thing the boy’s gained from his crazy family tree.  Lately, or not lately, it’s been a gradual thing really, Damian and Tim have done more missions together.

“For efficiency sake.” Damina justifies. As the two of them all a frightening team when they apply their talents together.

Tim skill in logic and ability to place the clues in interesting ways, Damian’s assassin training that makes him a martial arts vistoso. Few enemies can best them when they fight together.

But something's off. Tim can’t nail down the thought with proof yet but…

“Timothy?” He jerks towards at Damian. “Timothy it is time we made our way to the burrows.”

“Timothy? What happened to Drake?”

Oh my dear. It that a slight blush Tim recognizes on Damian’s face? “I have realized that it might be considered rude to refer to you in that manner. After all, you do not call me Al Ghul, do you?”

This is true. “I suppose.”

But later, Tim realizes much later to his faulty skills as a detective, Damian still says Grayson, Todd and Brown with the other members of the family.

Like  “Timothy, I’ve brought us some rations. Just because we are reduced to wait for this scum to leave his pithole does not mean we must do it in discomfort.” It’s just a sandwich. But it’s one from one of Tim’s favorite cafes. Tim doesn’t know what to think of that.

Damian’s grown into his father’s monstrous bulk. Still shy of B’s height and an inch or two below Jason yet still informidable. His wide shoulders and dark tan skin have earned him the title, “Sheik” by various gossip magazines.

Not that Tim really pays attention to that sort of stuff.

Nor doesn’t he pretend not to know of how they dub them, “Fire and Ice.” whenever they endure an event together.

"What's going on?" Tim asks bemused. Damian and Kon stand off in the commons area. Kon with his arms crossed in front of his chest, while Damian casually tosses a batarang up and down with one hand. Kon is definitely taller, but there's something deadly in Damian's stance. Like a snake coiled to strike.

"Pissing contest." Cassie says  gleefully, grabbing a fist of popcorn before shoving the bag at Tim. "They've been at it for 14 minutes now and it's glorious."

Suck, diplomacy with the Titans and Dami has always been iffy. Once you attack their 'bird' you tend to go on their people-okay-to-drown-at-lunch list. It's a big list. Garth was excited to announce that Tim's list was currently the largest.

"Why didn't anyone get me?”

"Because it's about you." Bart hooks his elbow through Tim's and supports him, which is completely unnecessary, to limp and slouch on the couch. "The dude just showed up demanding to see you, that Bats needs your mad skills with forensics and crap but Kon thinks, it'd be nice if you were off crutches before getting broken again you know?"

"I'm not broken."

"Your leg begs to differ." Raven materializes beside him from the shadows. She really should teach Tim how to do that, he's just saying. Raven digs into the popcorn bag still in Tim's possession to get a satisfying crunch. "If I recall correctly, you shouldn't even be out of bed."

Damian whips his head to their direction, "Timothy is this true?

Crap. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Says the idiot whose tibia is in three pieces.” Kon grumbles straightening his back to make himself even more imposing to the intruder, but Damian’s eyes are glued on a different target. He drops the posturing act to walk to Tim and falls to a knee in front of him. Carefully, he lifts the neon pink cast, ‘cause real men wear pink, that’s littered with inappropriate comments from his team.

“Yes, that does seem to fit into the category of a ‘big deal’ Timothy.” He chides running his fingers over the names on Tim’s calf.

Tim bristles. “It does not. Besides, even benched, grown-up vigilante here, I can still do casefiles and computer work just fine, what does B need?”

“Hmmm, my father needs another to look over a heist note the Riddler is fond of making. Yet perhaps I should turn to different source.” Damian looks around and fishes for a marker on the coffee table. He gently lifts the limb to rest on his thigh, begins to write.  “Maybe one that will allow himself to heal properly.”

“Damian. Al Ghul. Wayne.” Where’s his crutches? He’s going to beat this twerp over the head. Give him something else that’s broken to worry about. Bart buries his face into Tim’s shoulder to muffle his snickers. It doesn’t do much. 

Dami finishes adding to the mess of ink before nodding to himself. “I’ve decided. I’ll give you the datapad after you gain an hour of rest.” He says staring up at Tim without compromise.

“What? No.”

“Or I’ll put Alfred on the com and inform him of your unfortunate situation.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Only if you consider it to be so.” Why yes Tim considers it to be so. Motherhen Alfred is a terrible nightmare to behold. No one can escape his clutches once he knows a Bat is harmed, doesn’t matter how old you are or where you are, he will find you. He will drown you in blankets, food and sedatives. And he has full access to the Tower. Garth is very fond of his vegetarian alfredo pizza.

“He’s got you there, Red.” Kon calls out, hands on his hips with a smug expression. The tension that once electrified the room is gone, but Tim almost misses it. Then maybe everyone in the room would stop ganging up on him.

“Do we agree or disagree?” Damian presses.

“We agree that this is shameless blackmail and I hate you.” Tim hisses out.

Damian’s voice turns warm and satisfied. “Good. Now let’s get you back into bed.”  He then worms his hands under Tim’s knees and lower back and lifts. Like Tim weighs nothing at all.

“I have crutches. Like right there. Cassie get my crutches.”

“Nope. Red’s room is on the top floor, by the way.” She has a hand pressed to her mouth, grinning like a loon. As if the best sight she’s seen all day is Tim carried like a princess. Then where’s his tiara, dammit?

“Thank you.” Damian gives a curt bob of his head and turns to go with the fussy man. The last thing the team sees is the elegant black scrawl on their Rob’s cast.

Please protect this foolish treasure - Damian

Yeah, maybe the Titans can trust their bird in these hands….just maybe.

It all comes to a head during a mission, they almost get caught in an explosion. Why can’t clowns stay away from fire? And Damian had tackled him to the ground and covered him against the flare of heat that licked their backs.

In the rubble, Damian lifts himself to stop crushing the smaller man. Their faces are close, Tim notes with his heart in his throat. They breath the same air and Damian's eyes flicker to his lips. To the inch barely separating them, all he’d would have to do is drop his head...just a little for them to meet.

“Damian?” The boy, no man in question drags his gaze to meet Tim's stare.

“Tell me to stop.” And slowly, achingly, he closes the distance between them. Tim can't move. Doesn't dare to as Damian kisses him gently. Almost excruciatingly so. It's a barely a press, so hesitant though it lasts for several long seconds...or years, Tim can't tell. Damian doesn't close his eyes the entire time and Tim is hypnotized, can't break the hold of that connection even when Damian reluctantly pulls back.

His brow furrows and it's a ridiculously adorable look on the oversized teen. “You did not tell me to stop.” He says confused.

“I didn't tell you stop period.” That earns Tim a cracked smile. It's so cute, Tim can't help but lean up to peck him square on the mouth. When Damian jerks to the side in surprise, He snorts and breaks into laughter.

His arms slowly squeezed around Tim’s waist, as if in disbelief that he was there in Damian’s lap. It was tentative, but definitely a conscious action.  Then reluctantly Damian unraveled his grip and cradled Tim’s hips in his palms. The fire blazed from yards away but the heat that races up Tim’s spine isn’t coming from the destruction. Then with barely an effort he lifted Tim straight up to place him back on his feet.

It’s casual, smooth and Tim hates to admit it...impressive.

“Are you alright, Timothy?”

“I’m fine. You?”

“A little singed, nothing more.”

“Okay, I have to know. Have you flirting been with me this entire time?” Tim asks blunt as a rock.

“Oh good.” Damian ducks his head away from the other vigilante, as if he’s too embarrassed to look at him. “I was becoming concerned that you would never notice my advances.”

A raspy voice buzzes in from the com, “Yeah, we thought the world would end first.”

“Jason if you ruin Dami’s confession, I will cut you.”  Dick hisses and Tim decides that the rest of this conversation is better done off grid.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere where there isn’t a raging firestorm or snooping eavesdroppers around.”

“Indeed.” Damian’s agrees warmly and when he wraps his arm gently around Tim, smiling down at him like that? Well, Tim finds that he doesn’t mind the height difference anymore.

Not at all.

[thebookjumper]

Picture Perfect - Chapter 16

And we're back for another installment.  I’m so sorry (always) about the time between updates, but between the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon (@olicityhiatusficathon), Camp Nanowrimo, and my Real Life being complete crap, I swear I got it to you as soon as I could!

Enough about me and on to the main event!!  Tags are below the Read More. Don’t forget to let me know if you want tags in future updates and sneak peeks!

Read the full chapter on:

AO3 or FF.net

Excerpt:

Oliver was at war with himself.  More accurately, his emotions were at war in his head.  He was simultaneously furious and terrified all at once, both emotions clashing to figure which one would win in the end.

How could she have kept this from him?  How could Diggle have let her keep this from him?  And it had been going on for months now.  Months.  Oh, God.  Anything could have happened to her.  Stalkers escalated.   And she’d had a stalker for months, one that apparently everyone knew about, including Bruce Wayne.  

That stung.  Felicity had trusted Bruce Wayne with her safety instead of him, her resident vigilante.  What did Bruce have, really?  A big bank account?  So did Oliver.  But Oliver also had mad ninja skills, as they were lovingly dubbed by Felicity, and she had to know that he would put every single skill in his quiver to use to protect her.  She was family.  More than.  And just like he’d put everything on the line to help his mom, he’d do the same for her.

He looked back down at the calendar and his stomach dropped, the anger fading into terror once more.  A stalker was after Felicity.  His Girl Wednesday.  Felicity, Diggle, and Bruce obviously knew nothing about him or he wouldn’t have been able to get this close to her.   Diggle would’ve taken care of him the second he had a lead on the guy, without question our hesitation.  Which meant Felicity and all of her genius hadn’t been able to track him down, despite the fact that he’d been delivering her things.  He’d been in her apartment.

“You’re not going home.”

Felicity spluttered at his proclamation.  He would have found it adorable in any other situation, but right now he was too wound up, too focused on the safety of the woman he knew he couldn’t live without, to appreciate how cute she could be when she was shocked.

The fact that she now had a stalker who was clever enough to evade Felicity Smoak’s tried-and-true location tactics was likely Oliver’s fault, and the only thing he could think about was how badly he needed to fix it.  People with the kind of skills required to successfully keep themselves off of Felicity’s capable radar didn’t just go after unassuming IT girls.  No, it was much more likely that someone had discovered her association with the Hood and had set out to hurt her to get to him.  It was his greatest fear come to life before his eyes.   This was why he’d told her he couldn’t be with someone he could really care about, which she absolutely was.  He was a man with a mission which could create so many enemies, so many potential threats to her if anyone were to find out about their relationship.

It killed him that she was already in danger.  But he could save her from this one.

“Yes.  I am.”

But only if she’d let him, apparently.  Okay, he needed to try a different tack with her.

“How secure is your home?  When were your locks changed last?  The windows?”  He’d been so lax with her security.  How could he even claim to care for her?  He’d known something was going on, and sure, he’d trusted her to take care of her own security.  Computer genius, remember?  But apparently, that had been a terrible decision.  He should’ve taken her safety as his top priority.  He hadn’t, and now here they were.

Before Felicity opened her mouth to respond, Bruce cut in, reminding Oliver that he and Diggle will still in the room.  Well, at least he could count on John being on his side in all of this!

“The building’s security has been updated.  We have cameras and everything,” Bruce assured everyone in the room.

Oliver scoffed.  “And obviously those have worked so well.”

“Probably just as well as Queen Consolidated security.  Or did you miss the part where this psycho has been in here, too?”  Bruce shot back.

As livid as he was, he couldn’t really argue that point.  Wayne was right, the stalker had been up here, too.  “Diggle, I want the Executive Floor sealed.  No one gets up here without our say so.  And I want a security sweep done at Felicity’s apartment.  Anything we can update, we will.”

Felicity’s hand on his forearm was the only thing that pulled him back from his full-on panic mode.  Softly, but forcefully, she spoke, “Okay.  You need to calm down.”

He was in awe of her.  She had every right to continue her freakout. There was a madman messing with her head, threatening her, and she’d rightfully lost her cool.  But the second Oliver lost his, she screwed her head back on straight to pull him out of his spiral.  He should be the one comforting her, not the other way around.  But, he couldn’t help it.  The thought of something happening to her had him panicked with the need to ensure her safety.  If there was anything he could do, anything he could buy, anyone he could maim to keep her out of harm’s way, he’d do it without hesitation.  Felicity Smoak had become Oliver Queen’s oxygen; there was no him without her.

“I’m going home.  I’ll be fine there.” She palmed his cheek, her fingers lightly scratching in his stubble before she yanked her hand back, like her limb had acted without her authority.  He immediately leaned toward her, missing the connection between them, however brief it had been, but her next words stopped him dead.  “Obviously, nothing is happening until Thanksgiving anyway, so logically it’s perfectly fine for me to go home.”

It bothered him, how flippant she made that remark.  Like it was okay that some psycho wanted to hurt her.  Like she expected him to leave her alone until Thanksgiving now that he’d given her a deadline.  And worst of all, it sounded like she thought it was inevitable, that he’d already won, that Thanksgiving was her deadline, literally, and that she’d accepted it.

Everything in him rebelled.  “No.  Your safety is not to be taken lightly.  I need you to be safe, Felicity.  Please, you have to come home with me,” he pleaded with her to let him keep her near him and safe, to not stop fighting.

“I’ll be perfectly safe, Oliver.  But I’m not letting this guy force me to stop living my life,” she stated with conviction.  

“Fine,” he acquiesced.  “But if you won’t come to the manor, please let me make sure you’re safe.”

She grabbed his hand and the relief he felt at having her back in connection with him is palpable.  “Oliver, I will be safe.  I promise.   Bruce lives across the hall,” she gave him a small glare at his audible scoff before she continued. “The security system is off the charts since he bought the building.  It’s fine.”

“That’s not enough for me.”  It wasn’t.  It obviously hadn’t worked yet, and he’d be damned if he was leaving her protection up to some half-cocked pain-in-the-ass who had only known her a few months.  There was another option, but she wasn’t going to like it.  “If you insist on going home, I’m coming with you.”

Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open.  “That is not how I wanted to take you home with me.”

Oliver ignored the verbal faux pas and the amused smirks shared between Bruce and John, focusing solely on the most important thing: getting Felicity to agree to let him stay with her.  “I’ll sleep on your couch.  Just, please, let me come stay with you until we get this guy.”  It wouldn’t be fun.  He’d seen her couch and it was likely only ¾ of him would fit, but it would be worth it for him to only be twenty or so feet away from her at night.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Your choice is a full security sweep, a new security system installed, along with new doors and windows, or you can let me stay with you.  I will sleep on your fire escape if I have to.”  

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay.  I relent, under protest.  You can come sleep with me.”

He was fully prepared to let that one go, too, but apparently, she wasn’t.  “Oh God!  I meant inside my place.”  Then she choked.  “Not my place, but my place.  My apartment! YES! Apartment is the word that goes there.”

He couldn’t describe how it made him feel that her inappropriate babbles were still intact.  She couldn’t be too far gone with worry if she was still making sexual innuendos about him, and that was worth more to him than anything else right then.  Although, he hoped that she didn’t see the eyebrow waggles that Bruce sent Diggle’s way.

Tags:

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[thewheezingwyvern]

Storm Blooded

Rating: M for language, violence, darker themes, sexual situations and abuse. (More may be added) This story may be triggering.  I will do my best to give warnings about certain triggers as they occur but this is a heads up in case I miss something.  Also there is no ship yet.  I’m just going to let the story unfold and go with it. ((I reposted this because with my url change, you can’t open the read more line))

Diabolik Lovers Oc fanfiction

Summary:  Her kind and theirs have fought for centuries. It was no secret that vampires and witches did not get along. But when her Coven starts working to initiate peace treaties, Cora must stay with the Sakamaki brothers for the remainder of the negotiations. Six vampire brothers were bad enough but things get complicated when there are people behind the scenes who are trying to start another war…

(Chapter One)

It was nearly dusk by the time Cora had arrived at Sakamaki manor, the steadily dying sun wreathing the wrought iron gates in fiery reds and oranges.  It was an ornate gate, engraved with elaborate embellishments but even a gilded cage was still a cage.  A gust of wind rasped through the trees and sifted through her hair, a dusky rose that gleamed in the light of the fading sun.  Daunted, she hefted one of her bags higher up on her shoulder and fixed her dark eyes on the crest above the gates.

‘This is a mistake.’ She thought with dread, ‘Maybe I should just call back the driver or something.’

Cora touched the squirt bottle of holy water resting against her hip in her jacket pocket for reassurance. It was a flimsy defense against six vampires but her options were limited given the situation.  The rosette ground her teeth as she felt a traitorous voice in her head urge her to leave.  She could disappear, leave and if she was careful no one would be able to find her.  It was so tempting because she knew that however long she had to stay here, it would be hell for her.

‘Pull yourself together!’ Cora snapped at herself, ‘You can do this!  You are Cora Fuller, a witch of the Court of Oak and Ash coven!  This isn’t just about you so just get your ass in there!’

With a deep breath she pushed open the gates.  They groaned as they parted to admit her and she hauled her luggage up to the front door. There was no turning back so she squared her shoulders and knocked on the door.  Cora immediately began kicking herself mentally when she noted that the knock was feeble and lacking in volume.  She knocked again, harder this time and the door swung open slowly to admit her.  The entrance way was grandiose, sprawling in elegant marble.  A golden chandelier, artfully crafted dangled from the ceiling and an imperial staircase waited at the end of the great hall.  

‘Of course they would have a red carpet.’ she noted dryly.

There was no one at the door when she stepped inside but she was not alone in the entrance hall.  He was a composed individual, impeccably dressed with a crisp, white button down shirt.  Cora suspected that it had been pressed to perfection and it paired nicely with the simple black coat.  He was a stern figure and his eyes surveyed her apathetically behind his glasses. But his hair…his hair was a dark purple grey and Cora found that it reminded her of a storm.  That was the only thing about him that made her feel comfortable.

“Cora Fuller?”

She nodded mutely in response to his question.

“You are early.” He noted cordially, “I was not expecting such punctuality from one of your kind.”

Cora bristled, “Funny. I was thinking the same thing of yours.”

‘You leech.’ She added cantankerously in her thoughts.

“Your manners, however, are precisely what I expected: deplorable.”

The witch narrowed her dark eyes into a glare.  She hardly thought that was fair since he was the one who greeted her with such a back-handed compliment.  Cora wanted to pursue the argument, insist that he was the one who started all of this but she decided that the argument “you started it” sounded distinctly childish. And definitely not worth it so she dropped it.

“Not to worry.  I’ll do my best to live down to your expectations.”

If he was at all bothered by her behavior, he didn’t show it.  His face was one of stony indifference and he regarded her coolly. Inwardly, she squirmed because something about his gaze unnerved her but she refused to give any more control to him than he already had.  So she met his wine eyes with her dark ones, trying her best to maintain a defiant expression.

“Fufufufu, well what do we have here?”

Cora jerked her head over to the side to see yet another vampire of the manor.  His hair was a rich red and it tumbled past his jawline to dust just above his shoulders.  But his eyes were striking, an acidic green that made her think of the toxic plants the herbalist witches would work with in her coven.  The stranger was dressed casual enough, his button down shirt untucked with a loose fitting tie and a fedora on his head.

The witch narrowed her eyes in a glare when she noticed how he was leering at her, poisonous eyes slithering across her skin.  She felt grimy just by the way he was looking at her and found herself really wanting a shower.  If Cora hadn’t been so burdened with luggage, she would have folded her arms over her chest in a further show of displeasure.  But her arms were occupied and it was that moment that she realized that while she may be able to touch the squirt bottle in her jacket pocket, it would be a lot harder to fish it out quickly should she need it.  The witch decided she could put her stuff, or at least one bag, down.

“Take care of her luggage.” Ordered the stranger who had first greeted her, his face still devoid of emotion.

The rosette had no idea who he was talking to since she had not seen anyone else in the room.  But she was quickly informed when a cold set of hands took the bag from her shoulder.  An undignified squeak of surprise escaped her since she did not hear or see the servant until he was right on top of her.  But Cora didn’t want strangers handling her stuff, she had carried a lot of personal ingredients and tools with her and she didn’t trust other people with it.

“H-hey wait a minute!” she protested.

But the servant had already vanished with her stuff.  She deflated but was once again startled when she felt a cold body press firmly against her from behind.  Cora quickly noticed that the red-head was no longer off to the left where she had first seen him and concluded that it must be him behind her.  Icy hands caressed up her arms and she felt his cold breath pool onto her neck.

“I knew we had a witch bitch coming to stay with us but I didn’t expect she’d be so adorable.”

Not at all appreciating the intrusion and the uninvited touching, Cora whipped around, pulling the squirt bottle from her pocket.  The red-head tightened his hold on her left arm, thinking that she was trying to pull away but he could not stop her from spraying him directly in the face.  The vampire yelped and released her instantly, rubbing his face with his sleeve to clear away the holy water.  However, once the faint hissing stopped and his face was dry, he gave her a dirty look.  Cora squared her jaw, feeling the cold bite of fear sink deep into her heart as she watched his still smiling face.

‘I see you’re already making friends, Cora.’ She thought to herself.

“Now what was that for, witch bitch?”

“If you’re going to act like a dog, I’m going to treat you like one.” She retorted sharply.

“Laito…” Sighed the man in glasses, “It is highly inappropriate to lay your hands upon a woman you just met.”

Laito chuckled, but she could hear the dark edge that laced his tone, “But how could I possibly resist something so delectable, Reiji?”

“Oi!  Don’t tell me you tried to bite her without Ore-sama!”

‘For the love of Artemis, am I going to meet every one of these leeches at once?!  Can’t we space this out over a week?’ Cora lamented inwardly.

Yet another red-head appeared but he was closer to the staircase near Reiji.  His hair was a lot shorter than Laito’s but it was boyishly messy and his eyes were a lighter green.  Cora cocked a brow at his choice of wearing a ribbon around his neck that trailed down his chest to disappear into his shirt, which was barely buttoned at all.

“Ore-sama gets first bite of our prey…” he said lowly, suddenly appearing before Cora.

The witch in question lifted the squirt bottle in a threatening manner towards the newcomer and narrowed her eyes, “I will use this…”

“Psh is that supposed to mean something to me?” He scoffed leaning in to intimidate her.

“Careful, Ayato.” Laito advised, “Witch bitch has holy water in that bottle.”

A cocky smirk crossed Cora’s lips for a moment and she sloshed the water for good measure, “He’s right.  Laito already got a taste.”

Ayato narrowed his eyes, angrily, “Wipe that look off your face.  All I have to do is take that bottle from you and then you have nothing.”

‘Don’t hex him, don’t hex him, don’t hex him, don’t hex him…’ Cora thought, reigning in her urge to prove him wrong.

“You’re nothing but prey. A blood bag like any other human to feed on.”

‘Oh he did NOT just…fuck it.’

Cora pulled the trigger on the bottle, giving Ayato a face full of holy water.  The water hissed when it came in contact with his skin and he reeled back, snarling.  

“Let’s get one thing straight here, leech.  I am not your prey and I am certainly not like any human you’ve come across.  I am a witch of the Court of Oak and Ash and you will not talk to me that way.” She lifted her chin proudly.

“I will talk to you any way I like!” He roared, advancing blindly towards her as he continued to rub away the holy water, “And just you wait until I get my hands on you!”

“Touch me and I will curse you into the next millennia.  Your GRANDCHILDREN will be cursed when I’m done!”

“That’s enough.” Reiji cut in coolly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Ayato, step back from our guest. She is not a bride offered up to us. She is a diplomatic emissary, despite how unruly her behavior is and she will be remaining here for the rest of the negotiations.”  He flicked his piercing eyes over to Cora, “And you.  Your attitude is a disgrace.  Unless you desire for me to discipline you later then you will correct it immediately.”

Cora’s breath caught in her throat.  Something about Reiji, perfection aside, really put her on edge.  And she had no doubt in her mind that not only would he discipline her without hesitation that he would even enjoy it.  She took his words to heart but not just because of his threat.  Cora had less room to work with the vampires than they did with her.  As much as she wished it were not true, witches have mostly been the aggressors within their long history of fighting each other.  

She could defend herself safely if she felt her life was in danger but that was about it.  Anything else would be called into question so there wasn’t a lot of open attack magic she could do here.  And if she continually acted aggressive towards the brothers with her magic then she would be forced to wear a seal to limit her power.  That thought alone made her feel like she was trapped within the jaws of a wolf, teeth bearing down on her neck.

Cora dropped her gaze from Reiji’s, “I understand…” she sighed.

“So this is what all of the fuss was about.  I thought the witch would be cuter, Teddy.  And that ugly mouth is so noisy….maybe we should kill her so we don’t have to hear her anymore.”

Out of all the things she had expected to see, a three hundred year old vampire with purple hair, plaid leggings, holding a teddy bear with an eye patch was definitely not one of them.  She opened her mouth to say something to him but quickly closed it.  The air was echoing softly with distant whispering. Whispering that had not been present until he had arrived.  Cora’s eyes widened when she realized that the indistinct whispering was coming from Teddy.

‘Looks like Teddy has a passenger.  Now the question is: did this boy summon it or did the spirit come by the bear on its own?’

He advanced towards the witch, his eyes glinting with madness, a wide grin across his mouth.

“Kanato stop.” Reiji ordered, “We already discussed this, she is here for the peace talks and she is not to be killed.”

Cora noticed that he said “killed” and not “harmed”.  She warily watched Kanato, who sulked at the news and hugged his bear tighter to his chest.

“But I want to kill her.” He repeated more firmly, his voice rising.

‘Note to self: avoid Kanato. He might not honor the treaties at all.’

“We are under orders from him to not kill her.  She must be kept alive. ”

Cora was assuming by “him” Reiji was referring to Karl Heinz.  While it was comforting to know that he had given his sons orders not to kill her, she still couldn’t trust Karl any further than she could throw him.  But Cora felt that way about all vampires.

“I don’t understand why. She doesn’t look special.”

A scowl crossed her face at that.  In her opinion Kanato wasn’t that great looking either but Cora kept her opinions to herself.  Faint whispering shuddered in her ears again and she rubbed her arms to try and stave off the chill.  There were plenty of witches in her coven that delved into spirit work but she had never been one of them.  Spirits always creeped her out.

“Well I suppose it was a good thing I wasn’t brought here for my looks then.” Cora said evenly, making sure to keep her displeasure off her face, “But I am not a diplomat.  Even a blind person could tell that curbing my tongue is not a great forte of mine.”

“Hmmm?  Then what are you, witch bitch?”

She eyed him warily, “I’m…insurance.  We recognize that a lot of us can become overzealous and gung ho about fighting with you vamps.  But we look after our own.  I’m here because it will help keep some of the more hot-headed spell casters from being stupid.”

Laito’s smirk widened considerably, “Look after your own?  How cute.  They brought you here as a scapegoat.  Like a lamb to the slaughter.” He laughed, “And you still think they are looking out for you?  You might as well accept that you are our prey now.”

“Ore-sama’s prey.” Ayato corrected advancing on her again.

Cora laughed then, “A scapegoat?  Not at all, I volunteered to be the one to come here.”

“What?”

The witch gave Laito a triumphant smirk.  There would likely be many moments in this house that she did not come out on top so she was going to take this victory while it was still there.  She found it very satisfying that his attempt at trying to make her feel abandoned failed.

‘Well now I have his number. He’s going to make it his goal to try and break me down and make me feel alone.’ Cora noted, ‘I can take you, fang face.’

“I volunteered. Someone had to come or else the negotiations would stop.  But no one was stepping up so someone had to.”

Ayato snickered, “And so you came to us.” His smirk widened, “You want to feel someone’s fangs really badly, huh?”

There was a shift in the energy in the air as he drew close to her and Cora tensed.  She already was hyper aware of how they were eyeing her like she was a walking blood bag but now Ayato was leaning in towards her with a sly smirk, licking his lips slowly.  It was so tempting to summon some lightning and knock him flat on his back. If she did maybe he would stop looking at her like only prey.  

‘But I can’t.’ She thought begrudgingly, ‘Using my magic to attack them repeatedly outside of a life threatening situation could make them put a seal on me.’

Ayato dropped his voice, “I’ve heard that Witch blood is something special.  And rare to taste…”

“Really?” drawled Kanato, “I want to taste too!”

“Really now, Ayato, we can all share.”

Laito began to advance forward too along with Kanato.  Cora could feel the jaws of the trap closing in, their eyes a light with hunger.  But it disturbed her to see how they were looking at her as a food source and not as a person.  She knew that this would not be an easy task to do for her coven but not once had she imagined it would feel like this.  

‘Three of them and only one squirt bottle…’ Cora realized, ‘Shit.  This was stupid.  The holy water is great for one on one but if they gang up on me I can’t do anything.’

But she wasn’t ready to just give up.  Cora moved to squirt Ayato in the face but Kanato snatched her wrist first and gave it a harsh twist.  The witch yelped and the bottle was wrenched from her hand and tossed aside.  This was happening, she realized with dread as Laito looped an arm around her waist from behind, heaving a shuddering breath into her ear.

“Mmmmm, you smell so divine witch bitch…”

“Get the fuck- eep!”

Kanato had swiped his tongue across the delicate skin of her wrist, startling Cora and she yanked it free of his grip.  He widened his eyes at first in surprise before he laughed, his grin razor sharp and filled with ravenous intentions.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot.” Kanato took Cora’s wrist in harder grip and yanked it towards him cruelly in a harsh twist.

“Ow!”

“You witches are a bit stronger than humans…”  He licked again, “Mmmm, I can taste the power…”

Ayato took her chin in his hands and forced her to look back at him, “Hey, eyes on me.  Ore-sama is the only one you should care about.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest and she began to thrash within their grip.  Laito laughed and merely tightened his grip.

“Why so frightened? You already heard Reiji, we can’t kill you.” He asked her, pressing his face against the side of her head in a faux tender gesture before he tugged sharply on her hair, “Hmmm I do still have to punish you for that holy water.”

“Oh yeah…” Ayato laughed, “Isn’t it taboo or something for you witches to get bitten?  You think it is a violation of your magic?  Your bodies?” His voice slipped down into a low timbre, “That we corrupt you?”

Cora felt herself trembling, felt her heart rate continue to rise as they closed in on her.  But the more she stayed like this, the more she knew that she was giving them power.  So she fought the fear with another emotion: anger.

“If you three don’t get the fuck off of me, I swear by Artemis, I am going to curse you!”

Ayato laughed and tightened his grip on her jaw, “Shut your mouth and just give in.”

‘That’s it.  I’m done playing by the rules.’

Magic was a learned skill that took hard work and study.  But every witch had at least one type that came to them naturally as if it their bones were made and shaped from it.  For Cora that was weather magic.  Particularly storms.  She had not only wanted to play by her Coven’s rules while in this treaty but she also wanted to keep her skills a secret.  Should things fall through with the peace talks her life would be in danger and it would be far easier to get away if they didn’t know what she was capable of.  It would be easier if they underestimated her.  

But Cora was not going to be bitten and especially not on the first day she stepped into the mansion. She flicked her eyes closed and focused in wards.  And then she called to the power coursing in her blood and she could feel it rising to the surface, crackling with energy.  Her heartbeat began to rumble in her ears, a distant roll of thunder, the tempest rising from her bones.  Higher and higher it came to her skin, her ears, her eyes ready to be unleashed and-

“That’s enough you three. Unhand her at once.”

Cora still could not move her head so she slid her eyes over to peer at Reiji who was behind Ayato. While his face still seemed to be indifferent, his eyes had taken on a new degree of sharpness to them that showed his displeasure.  Kanato pouted but released her wrist, making a soft disappointed sound in the back of his throat.  Laito pulled away but made sure to run his fingers through her wind tossed hair with a soft laugh.

“This isn’t over, witch bitch.”

Ayato turned his face back to her and drew in really close.  For one fearful moment she thought he was going to try and kiss her but he stopped short.  Cora felt she had spent enough time with a fearful expression in front of him.  So she twisted into a look of defiance, glaring up into his green eyes.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” He purred, “Ore-sama is going to be the first to take your blood.  To take everything.”

‘Like hell you will.’ She thought venomously.

He let go of her then and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, “This is boring, now.  I’m done with this.”

Ayato left then and as did the other two who ganged up on Cora.  Laito made sure to pass her a sly wink before leaving as well.  It made her feel even more grimy and she really wanted to take a long hot shower.  Suspiciously she watched Kanato who stopped to stare at her, clutching his bear to his chest.

“Don’t worry, Teddy.” He assured his friend, “We’ll get to taste her.  I’ll bet she tastes delicious.  Just like her soft skin.”

She hardened her glare and he slipped out of the room.  Now she was left with Reiji and her embarrassment that she had been seen so weak. Cora should be thanking him, he saved her without her having to pull out her magic.  But when she brought her dark eyes to meet his own wine colored ones, the words just would not leave her.  They turned sour, bitter on her tongue and she just couldn’t bring herself to be grateful.  She had it under control.  

‘And besides, you watched and let it get to that point anyways.’ She thought waspishly, ‘You could have said something from the beginning and it wouldn’t have got that far.’

Anger and shame brought her fists to clench tightly by her sides.  She could still feel Kanato’s tongue on her wrist, Laito against her back and Ayato’s icy fingers on her jaw.  Cora looked away, no longer able to meet his gaze.  Because as angry at him as she was, there was still something about Reiji that unsettled her and she wanted to flee from his presence. Resolutely she set her jaw, inwardly scolding herself for feeling that way.

“Honestly now.” He sighed, “I expected such poor manners from those three but I had higher expectations for the emissary of your kind.  I suppose that was foolish of me to expect proper etiquette and manners from a witch.  It is customary to thank the person who saved you.”

Cora glared at him, “Why should I?  It is also customary for the one responsible for the house to not let things advance that far with your guest.  So I guess we are both in the wrong here.”

Reiji narrowed his eyes slightly, “Careful, witch.  Your political significance will only get you so far.”

“And I’ll carry myself the rest of the way with my own two legs.” She snatched up the discarded bottle of holy water, “I’m more than capable.”

“Capable?  Not moments ago you were a quivering in a pathetic display.” He chuckled then, “How foolish that you thought that little bottle would be enough to protect you.” A cruel smirk crossed his lips, “But it was nice to see you learn your place.  You are just barely above the status of a human.  Treaties are not, you and your kind are still food.  Now behave yourself and I will show you to the room you will be staying in.”

‘I am not your prey…I am the storm that will tear your world apart if you cross me.’