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#I think the crop top has been Known in the fandom for a while but it's new to me
luv4fandoms · 1 year
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Hi! I'm so nervous, idk if you take requests or suggestions but I'm new to the fandom(tlb) and simply fell in love with your blog and I needed to share this with someone and well, what do you think the boys would say if reader just said something like 'I'm so tired of man and their little slutty waists' (I'm looking at you Marko 👁👄👁)
No need to be nervous! Welcome to the fandom! I'm very new as well, only watched the movie for the first time earlier this year lol. I'm so glad that you like my blog though 😊
Also this made me laugh so much because my friends on discord and I were just talking the other day about that picture of Marko hanging from the bridge and we all were like "that slutty little waist is just 😩🥵" 😂
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I think they all would be a bit confused at first, like "how exactly is a waist slutty?" But then once they realize it basically means hot toned stomachs, they are gonna use it against you for sure, ESPECIALLY Marko.
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David doesn't show skin much, aside from the short sleeve shirt he wears under the coat, toned arms you have only seen a couple of times when he has taken the coat off. But the shirt is fitted, and shows off his waist shape enough to make your imagination run wild. Once he realizes that "slutty waists" are something your eyes are drawn to, he's gonna use that. Pulling back his coat to put his hand in his pants pocket. Making sure his coat is open wide when he sits down. He doesn't give much, just teases to make you want more.
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Paul's shirt leaves little to the imagination as well, fishnet does not hide skin, and he will use that as well. Making sure his pants ride just a little lower when you're around, and that his jacket doesn't cover too much. When you're at the cave with them he's never got his jacket on anymore, preferring to walk around with his "slutty little waist" in perfect view for you. He definitely doesn't mind you looking, and would often ask if you wanted to touch.
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Dwayne wouldn't say much, but inside he is chuckling. After all, this man never wears a shirt so his "slutty little waist" is always on display for your viewing pleasure, he just hadn't known how much pleasure you got from viewing, but now that he does...he will definitely make sure to use that. He is far more subtle than Paul, more along the lines of David. He will sit closer to you, maybe help you get things from high up more often, making sure to stand nice and close as he does, his jacket opening just right to give you that perfect view. Or he would just forgo the jacket all together more often.
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Marko...Marko Marko Marko *shakes head* this Italian Stallion is a menace, a menace I tell you. So that is why you were always staring at him, well he can definitely use that to his advantage. Like Dwayne and Paul, his "slutty little waist" has always been on display because of that dang crop top, so you had caught yourself almost drooling at the sight more than once. But it didn't help that all he had to do was move just right and even more was exposed. He high fives Paul? More shows. Goes to paint something high on the cave walls? There it is again. Wrestles with Paul? Yup even more is showing. Honestly he was a constant tease before...But now that he knows...buckle up buttercup. This boy does everything from reach above you for something while you're sitting down so his waist is right at eye level. To, just like Paul and Dwayne, walking around without his jacket on so that you can now see his waist from all angles.
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These boys liked their bodies before but now their egos are boosted and they will use that to their advantage lol.
Bonus gif of Marko's slutty little waist
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justsomeoneunordinary · 9 months
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today seems to be chat day for me, so while i'm at it already...
what's up with the hatake and the whole wolf contact, nomadic, wild clan? i don't wanna say a hc is wrong bc it's a hc.... but this is possibly the wrongest hc i've ever seen
everything abt hatake we know is hinted toward farming. kakashi = scarecrow, sakumo = crops, hatake = field, and their clan symbol resembles a rice field. what about that screams nomads??? wolves???
i assume it must be bc sakumo is known as the white fang, but otherwise... that's it. like, sorry but it just doesn't fit
first of all, the inuzuka clan already exists, and it's kind of cheap to make the hatake clan a copy paste version of them, but bigger and more feral bc "wolves are cooler than dogs"
it's perfectly fine to think that the inuzuka are not feral enough, i actually agree; they could be wilder imo. but the foundations are already there - fandom could simply expand on them. tsume's dog is practically a mean wolfdog already, you could just take what's already there and mold it to your tastes
secondly, this whole "pack" hc in which the hatake see family above all elese and form their own packs could not fit kakashi less if you tried. the man lost his team and shrugged it off. when they came back, he had no issues adding sai or giving them over to tenzou. he loves his team, but he is not possessive over them and has never been. that's not expansion of what could've been anymore, that's outright out of character
thirdly, kishi didn't leave us with absolutely nothing abt the hatake. their names are already hints. it's hinting at agriculture. you could come up with so much worldbuilding with this, how the hatake mostly only used ninjutsu for farming, how sakumo and kakashi broke those traditions and became both top shinobi konoha's of their time. not to mention who kakashi's mother might've been...
i'm obviously not saying ppl shouldn't enjoy their hcs, i am only saying that it's crazy the most popular fanon abt the hatake became the one that directly opposes the only bit we were given canonically
fanon somehow jumped from farmer to nomads and wolves of all things, all the while the inuzuka already exists, and most ppl don't even seem to realize it...
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cat3ch1sm · 2 years
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🐸| hello everyone! i made the mistake of staying up until 3am and came up with these cracked hxh headcanons. yes i know i write for hxh way too much which is why i need u guys to send requests for other fandoms😀 not that i don't love hxh hcs and ur totally welcome to send those in, but if u have any thoughts for the fandoms i write for send them in<33
🥝| also my birthday is in three weeks omg. stg i still feel like a little kid
🌱| anyways enjoy these hcs<33 they're definitely not canon but it is funny 2 imagine😭💀 ily guys
part 2 with the butlers??? let me know🤭
part 3 with the phantom troupe??? LMFAOO
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ maybe some homophobia?
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how would the Zoldyck family react if they find out that hisoka and illumi are an item?
silva
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bro is still kinda trying to get the "illumi likes men" thing. silva can kill hundreds of people at once and is the most feared assassin ever, but when it comes to his kids actually having... like... lives... his mind just empties.
・❥・so when illumi just pulls up with "hisoka and i are dating" in the most unemotional tone known to man, silva's brain doesn't really process it right off. he sits there for like ten seconds straight in silence with an intimidatingly blank stare. imagine the little "loading..." thing over his head
・❥・and then he gets it. he blinks. looks at hisoka and illumi awkwardly, with a brow arched or something. then looks down at kikyo, who is sobbing on his shoulder into his shirt.
・❥・he stares at his wife for a few more very long seconds before looking back up at his son and his maniac pedophile clown bf, rolling his eyes as he gestures with his head for them to just go.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
kikyo
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she was never on board with hisoka and illumi's whole thing to begin with. she does not understand why Illumi wants to spend all his time with hisoka, who she thinks is creepy and overly eccentric, when he could be spending time with a lovely woman who also kills people to carry on the Zoldyck name.
・❥・and she really wasn't with the gay thing anyway. she would have lots of perfectly eligible murdery women meet illumi in hopes that they would get together and bear a Zoldyck child. but here he is. kikyo just cannot understand it.
・❥・although, it's a tiny bit less about the gay stuff than it is about the fact that it's hisoka. hisoka. him of all people. why? his aura is repulsive, he runs around in crop tops, heels, waist trainers, makeup, and pink hair. illumi had already been poisoned, kikyo could tell, when he started with the crop tops as well. but it had been worse than she had thought. now here they were, the disgusting clown and her perfect illumi saying they were dating.
・❥・it was enough to make her burst into tears- and cry she did. the second illumi finished his sentence, the waterworks began. now it was too late.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
zeno
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "Like I care. Just don't have sex in the house."
・❥・enough said
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
alluka
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i don't know how she'd find out, really. maybe killua told her? but despite the fact that Illumi doesn't even consider alluka a family member or even a human being, she'd be thrilled for him <\3
・❥・"Big big brother has a boyfriend? Really?!"
・❥・she'll want to know everything about hisoka- what he looks like, how he behaves, what about him attracted her brother. romance thrills her, no matter who it's between or if the people involved are trying to kill her☹️
・❥・"Will I get to meet him? :D"
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
kalluto
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he'd been collecting clues for a while. he noticed when illumi stopped cutting his hair, when his clothing style changed, how much more often Illumi was going to hisoka for assistance in missions and such rather than his family- whether he actually needed the help or not.
・❥・and when illumi joined the phantom troupe "per hisoka's request," and when he spoke of an "engagement ring" and "prenup" despite there being other less fruity terms he could have used to describe the contract- kalluto was almost 100 percent sure.
・❥・ the kicker, though, was when kalluto found out that they had contracted each other to kill... each other. they both shared the same twisted idea of "romance" and "friendship," and this basically set kalluto's suspicions in stone.
・❥・so kalluto half-heartedly played dumb when Illumi announced their official status as a couple- but long story short, he wasn't surprised. he isn't really fond of hisoka, but he sees no point in messing with the relationship, so he doesn't care much overall.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
milluki
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this mf doesn't look up from his computer screen and potato chips and weird dolls long enough to even notice that hisoka existed, let alone how much time he and his brother spent together. so he's wayyy out of the loop when illumi makes his announcement.
・❥・bro almost chokes to death on his snack when illumi's done. when he finally pulls himself together, he gives Illumi a look and is basically like "ew, weirdos"
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
killua
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ *screaming intensifies*
・❥・illumi. his psychopath brother. hisoka. the pedophile clown man who has a crush on his twelve year old best friend. dating. illumi. gay. with. hisoka. what the fuck what the duck what the fuck
・❥・this could go two ways. one, illumi makes his announcement, and killua immediately starts dramatically falling to the floor and screaming hysterically while pretending to vomit. may or may not ask if he can put a hit on himself. hell, he'll demand someone put a hit on him- he'll be waiting with open arms for them to come and end his misery
・❥・or, killua takes matters into his own hands. he doesn't react at all before calmly exiting the room, walking through the halls, entering mike's domain, and simply climbing up the dog's fur into his mouth. perhaps he'll take a stroll up to the roof of the house and throw himself off?? either way, he's ending this shit
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marinersubmariner · 1 year
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The twitter mess has got me thinking about livejournal and fandom platforms in general, so here’s a lot of words that mostly amount to me being old and sad!!
The past couple years I’ve really struggled with the pull to start using twitter because so much fandom activity moved over there, while at the same time being held back by knowing that it would not be a satisfying experience for me. I lurk there a little, and it’s alright in small doses, but it just doesn’t work for the types of fandom posts that I can contribute or that I want to see. And it has increasingly frustrated me how much people post fanart exclusively over there when its formatting is awful for fanart (no archives! no organized tagging system! completely unbrowseable by subject matter or time period! everything disappears in .02 seconds if it even crosses your view at all! WOW SO GREAT. I get that it lets you post porn but that isn’t a big draw for me :/ yeah, I know, what am I even doing on the internet)
My preferred form of fandom is images and graphics and art and long-form commentary and twitter just isn’t made for those things. You can kind of jury-rig it for them I guess (weirdly cropped 2-to-4-image photosets, hmm. great. threaded tweets??? you know there was a time when you could put all your related thoughts into a single post!) but it’s obviously designed for brief little texts and I’m too self-conscious about writing things for that to ever work for me. The way I see it is you can absolutely tweet on tumblr but you cannot make a tumblr post on twitter, and that’s the fundamental disconnect that has prevented me from leaving. I’m not compelled to go to a platform with fewer and worse features. (well, that plus the fact that I no longer have any friends to follow in the way that I followed the crowd from livejournal to tumblr. why bother!!! NOBODY’S LISTENING! —Cassian Andor about posting on social media)
I totally understand people mourning what could be the loss of years of fandom activity on that site, but at the same time its immediacy has always made it appear more fleeting to me anyway. Obviously you can scrounge up old posts if you really dig around, but without archives or functional tags it has never seemed to be a platform that encourages a long lifespan for anything posted there. Which is of course the trade-off for it being so current and of-the-moment, but I also think it’s detrimental to the fandom ecosystem as a whole, and on a personal level I’m too much of a hoarder for that kind of disposability to work for me. I like to keep things in my little treasure trove and continually pore over it with fondness. :(
I also just have too much anxiety, uh, in general, but especially with instantaneous forms of communication, so I get extremely avoidant about anything fast-paced. Chats always made me nervous, I don’t like texting, it all makes me a little too frazzled to do for fun. I was okay with message boards and lj comments because there wasn’t as much expectation of a quick response (and of course there was way more separation of Internet Time when you didn’t have a smartphone on you 24/7. boundaries!!!! never heard of them). A lot of this is purely mental hangups because I’m perfectly capable of communication, but it’s stressful and exhausting and the internet is filled with increasing pressure to never say the wrong thing (which is already a pressure in my head!!) so to add forced brevity and urgency on top of that... it makes me so uncomfortable and it’s such an enormous barrier when the foundation for literally everything is communication. Words are hard!!! I’m not terrible at it but there’s always an excessive amount of deliberation involved and it’s such a difficult thing to grapple with all the time. Constantly, forever. The mortifying ordeal of SELECTING WORDS to make yourself known!!!!!!!
I guess also nothing has ever been as conducive to discussion and replies as lj. Tumblr replies are so limited and reblogging to add your own commentary is a totally different thing. Private messages are there, but there’s no decent mechanism for open back-and-forth conversation. So even while part of me is glad that people might come back here, more activity on my preferred platform doesn’t change the fact that I still feel dissatisfied with the way all of this operates in general. Tumblr is better than twitter, but even tumblr isn’t that great.
To be honest I’ve become so fuckin weird about this stuff that I now essentially use google docs like a private secret livejournal. I type out my thoughts constantly as though I were writing an actual post to share and then I never share it. Which is probably. insane. But in the era of social media all fandom stuff either seems like way too public a forum full of jerks or it’s seen by nobody anyway so why bother. There don’t seem to be comfortable niche spaces anymore, or if there are I never found them, and besides that I’m too shy and too tired to seek them out and work up the energy to interact. So I just talk to myself like a lunatic. It’s super healthy I’m sure!!!!
I also just really miss how I felt on the internet and in fandom spaces when I was younger, making pointless little websites and graphics and posting photographs just because I wanted to. And obviously I still make things because I WANT to, but the act of actually posting to the internet now and the way that others engage with it seems so much more transactional than it used to. I got into making graphics when it was only like a handful of people on a message board sharing things with each other, and it’s wild how much more fulfilling and encouraging it was to have just a few familiar people make comments than it is to get likes and reblogs. A little number ticker on a post is like... that’s it? That’s all there is? It’s so hollow and mechanical.
Sort of the best way I can think of to describe how it feels to me is that it used to be more like being the proprietor of a quaint storefront where you peddled your wares and people could come and go and chat as they please, and now it’s more like tossing one of your wares onto a highway where it gets driven over at 80mph. And certainly that perception is skewed by rose-colored nostalgia about ~the way things used to be~, I’m much older now so I’m sure my temperament has changed a lot too, I slowed down while everything else sped up, time makes fools of us all, etc. But I’ve seen enough people express similar things about the modern internet that I do think maybe it’s not just me.
I don’t know, unless you’ve been following me since livejournal this probably all sounds like nonsense coming from a silent lurker who barely even posts. I’ve always been much more reticent on tumblr because it feels so exposed—the potential for things to spiral way outside of your orbit is both scary and annoying. But I guess I just don’t really know how to participate in fandom anymore in the way it exists now. I don’t have a community and it feels impossible to break back in amongst The Youths. I don’t have the energy to contribute as much as I want to, and then when I do expend the energy it seems like a waste of time because it’s stuff that either goes entirely unseen or it gets silently viewed and disposed of in an infinitesimal fraction of the time it took to put together. So there are these two warring impulses of: this is making you unhappy and you should stop vs. it doesn’t matter if you’re entirely alone when you’re still having fun by yourself with your special interest that you enjoy. And I don’t know how to reconcile the two.
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blitzturtles · 3 years
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Title: Can't Fix Everything
Rating: Teen and Up
Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable (Future Fic)
Pairing(s): JotaHan
Summary: Jotaro frowns when he rings the doorbell and no one answers. It’s not as though he’s unexpected. He and Rohan had discussed this beforehand, but he knows that it’s entirely possible that Rohan got too caught up in his work. That he’s got his eyes glued to the pages with such a hyperfixation that he hadn’t even heard the doorbell going off.
Notes: When I went to write the ‘Flail Chest’ piece, I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted it to be with Jotaro or Josuke, so here’s the Jotaro version (if it can be called that. Same injury, very different story.) Ngl, kind of frustrated with the end, but I've been sitting on this for a few weeks now.
[Copy and pasted from the Josuke version: Unimportant bit of trivia: the first rib fixation for adolescent flail chest wasn’t actually done until ~2006, but this is fic, so fuck it.
Flail chest: When a section of the chest wall becomes detached due to the ribs being broken in two or more places. The treatment for this can be a wait and see method (with pain management and physical therapy), but there’s also rib fixation, which is a surgical procedure that can help dramatically reduce short and long-term complications.
The rib injury is canon; the extent of it in this fic, not so much.]
-
Jotaro frowns when he rings the doorbell and no one answers. It’s not as though he’s unexpected. He and Rohan had discussed this beforehand, but he knows that it’s entirely possible that Rohan got too caught up in his work. That he’s got his eyes glued to the pages with such a hyperfixation that he hadn’t even heard the doorbell going off. At least, that’s what Jotaro tells himself. How he tries to rationalize the lack of response.
Unfortunately, too many years on this earth-- facing some of the worst creatures to have ever disgraced her surface-- means that Jotaro has a good idea when he’s being pointlessly paranoid and when his ‘gut feeling’ is something to be taken seriously, and he’s feeling the latter right about now.
Star breaks the door’s lock with a particularly nasty twist of the knob. It’s nothing Jotaro can’t fix with a quick trip to the hardware store later, but that doesn’t matter right now.
“Rohan?” He calls into the seemingly empty house. The majority of the lights are off, and there’s no movement. No sound, and it’s far too early for Rohan to consider bed, which means he’s either closed in his studio or gone.
Jotaro makes a beeline for the familiar door that leads to Rohan’s sanctuary. It’s possible Rohan went out on a whim. Impulse control isn’t exactly his strong suit, especially when it might be something related to his manga, but it’s smarter to check the one place Rohan haunts most in life before bothering with anywhere else.
The door is unlocked, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though it doesn’t stop Jotaro’s heart from hammering away in his chest. There’s a flash of red across his vision, like a filter of blood, but he shakes it off in favor of taking in the room. He can’t let his past trauma affect him now.
Or maybe he can, because there Rohan is. On the floor, huddled partway beneath his desk. There’s a low whine that accompanies the screwed up features, and it’s all Jotaro needs to know that Rohan is in pain. A significant amount of it.
“Fuck,” Jotaro grinds out. He makes his way to Rohan quickly. Star Platinum itches to freeze time. A natural reaction to walking into an obviously bad situation with little information to work with, but Jotaro won’t waste the opportunity. They might only have one shot to work with, and he can’t waste it before he even knows what he’s walked into.
Carefully, he crouches in front of Rohan, His eyes don’t quite fixate on the mangaka. Instead, he’s too busy taking in their surroundings, searching for a threat.
Rohan startles and yelps. “What the fuck?” He grinds out after the initial shock washes over both of them.
“I could ask you the same thing. What happened?” Jotaro demands. His gaze shifts to Rohan. It’s a raking thing. Slow and deliberate as he searches for any sign of injury. There’s no blood that he can see. No limbs twisted horrifically out of place, and no holes punched where they don’t belong. Jotaro doesn’t allow himself to relax. There’s obviously something wrong; he just hasn’t figured it out yet.
“Ribs,” Rohan breathes out after a moment of hesitation. The mere effort of talking leaves him struggling for air.
Jotaro’s frown deepens, and he tunes out the rest of the world to focus on Rohan.
“Let me see.”
“No.”
“Rohan.”
“Go away.”
“Kishibe,” Jotaro grinds out. He doesn’t have time to put up with Rohan being a toddler when he could have a punctured lung.
“Fine,” Rohan concedes, though doesn’t move.
Jotaro sighs and carefully maneuvers Rohan onto his side. He uses Star’s hands as a cushion between Rohan’s body and the floor. A gentle effort to avoid making the situation worse, and, for once, Jotaro is incredibly thankful for Rohan’s penchant for crop tops. It’s a convenience-- rather than a nuisance and a distraction-- in a time like this.
Slowly, Jotaro pushes the fabric out of the way, and he sucks in a sharp breath out of sympathy the moment he gets an eyeful of the bruising that’s blossomed across Rohan’s side.
“That Stand got you right in that old wound of your’s, huh?” Jotaro asks. He barely resists the urge to reach out and touch the scars hidden underneath the black and blue mess. He’s known about their existence for a while, though Rohan rarely lets him lay eyes on them for more than a few seconds at a time.
There’s three scars in total, and each one runs the length of a rib, starting at Rohan’s sternum and wrapping around midway to his spine. A childhood injury from a freak accident that still causes unnecessary pain.
(”Why not just let Josuke heal you?” Jotaro remembers asking the first time he caught a glimpse of the scars.
“Josuke can’t fix everything,” Rohan had answered, short and irritable.)
Jotaro wonders if Rohan would allow Josuke to help now. If only to take the edge off, but Jotaro will worry about calling his nephew later. For now, he’s more concerned with getting Rohan off the floor and checked over properly. Jotaro hadn’t seen Rohan take a hit, which means that he has no idea how hard it had been or what kind of damage they might be dealing with. There could be internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, or god knows what else. The bruising is extensive enough, and Rohan’s breathing is ragged. Too shallow and a touch uneven.
“What gave you that idea?” Rohan snarls at him, breaking Jotaro out of his thoughts. He forgot how ill-tempered the mangaka is when he’s hurting.
“Good grief,” Jotaro mutters, though he takes it as a positive sign that Rohan’s got enough fight in him to make this as difficult as possible.
As carefully as possible, he scoops Rohan up into his arms. It isn’t easy, given the location of the wound, but he only makes Rohan whimper rather than scream. That has to count for something.
The path to the bedroom is blessedly short, considering the size of Rohan’s house. Jotaro gently deposits the mangaka on his oversized bed and heads for the en suite bathroom to retrieve the bottle of prescription painkillers that he knows Rohan underutilizes whenever possible (Rohan doesn’t like what they do to his head, and Jotaro can’t say that he blames him). It takes some rummaging, but he manages to find the pills and a cup to pour some water into.
“Here,” Jotaro says once he returns to the bedroom. To his surprise, Rohan takes both the cup and the proffered pills without complaint. He swallows the painkillers dry and chases them down with the water before falling back against the pillows with a quiet groan.
Jotaro takes that as his permission to resume his earlier inspection. Once again, he rolls the edge of the crop top up and tries not to grimace at the sight that greets him. It’s definitely no better than before, not that he had expected it to be. There’s more bruising than not on the scarred side, and some of it has branched across, spreading to the other side. Despite how horrific it looks, Rohan’s breathing is mostly even. It’s obvious that he’s in pain and holding back, but the lung seems to be inflating properly, which is… something. Far from great, but definitely better than the alternative.
Slowly, Jotaro palpates the area. All while ignoring the squirming and gasped breaths that he gets from Rohan. At some point, Rohan has enough, and he tries to swat Jotaro away, but he pulls back before Rohan can reach him.
“I don’t think you’re bleeding internally,” Jotaro announces with a barely level tone. Relief edges his words despite his attempt to keep his tone even. He tries not to think of what could have happened if Rohan had been left alone, bleeding internally, and without any way to call for help. Jotaro chastises himself for not noticing the hit or its aftermath. How could he have missed something so obvious? He can’t imagine that Rohan had been able to fully hide it.
“Fantastic,” Rohan grits out with a roll of his eyes. The way he relaxes into the mattress gives him away, though. He’d been scared.
“I’m going to go get some ice for that. Do you need anything else?”
“No,” Rohan says too quickly. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t speak up again. Jotaro takes that as his sign to go ahead, and he wanders downstairs and toward the kitchen.
The pantries are unsurprisingly bare, though Jotaro manages to find a baggie to put a decent amount of ice into. He grabs the hand towel off the counter to wrap the makeshift pack in and heads back upstairs, where he finds Rohan exactly where he left him. He hasn’t moved so much as an inch. It’s one more sign of the agony he must be in.
“Do you want me to call Josuke?” Jotaro asks, already knowing the answer. He passes Rohan the ice pack, figuring it will be better if Rohan places it himself. The cold is already going to make him tense up, and he doesn’t need the added pain.
“No.”
“He doesn’t have to see.”
“No.”
Jotaro gives a half shrug, “If you insist.”
“I do,” Rohan sniffs, snooty and irritated until he places the wrapped ice against his skin. He hisses and jolts away from it, but it only takes a moment before he relaxes and presses the pack that much closer. “Stop being a mother and lie down. ‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance, but Jotaro takes it that way anyways.
“I could call the Foundation.”
“Don’t you dare,” Rohan shoots back like Jotaro’s words had been a threat. They hadn’t. It’s an offer to have a specialist come to Rohan rather than to force Rohan to the hospital, but it doesn’t surprise Jotaro that he took it to be something else entirely.
“You’re wheezing,” Jotaro points out with the same frown he’s been wearing since he found Rohan on the floor.
“I’m fine. Get in this bed or get out.”
Jotaro can’t help thinking the words might hold more weight if Rohan weren’t practically wheezing them, but he decides to let the subject drop for now. There’s no apparent sign of an emergency. Yet. He’s not sure he can relax enough to get comfortable, but he does toe off his shoes. He rolls onto his side after another moment of contemplation. At least this position allows for him to keep an eye on Rohan without jostling him too much.
Rohan rolls his eyes, but he settles against the mattress with a half-shrug. A ‘suit yourself’ sort of gesture that’s far milder than the rest of his responses have been. His eyes slide shut and he keeps his hand firmly pressed to the ice he’s still holding to his side. His hold is still too tight, and his posture is too stiff. Jotaro wishes he could do more, but he knows how chronic pain goes. There’s really nothing more either of them can do now other than sit and wait for the medication to kick in. Rohan won’t see Josuke, and he’d probably bite Jotaro if the older man tried to take him to the hospital. Waiting is their only option, and time moves at an impossibly slow pace.
Nearly thirty minutes go by in complete silence. Rohan keeps his eyes stubbornly screwed shut, and Jotaro watches him unashamedly. The moment he thinks Rohan is getting worse, he’s dragging both of them to the nearest hospital, repercussions be damned.
Likewise, he keeps having to remind himself to take a breath. Rohan is alive and-- well, mostly-- breathing, granted it looks strained and painful, but it’s better than the alternative. Better than the rattle that Jotaro’s heard too many times before, and there’s no needless gasping. Only the occasional, low whine that manages to slip its way past Rohan’s thin-pressed lips.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Rohan’s body begins to relax. His limbs go slack against the mattress, and his core sinks downwards. He’s no longer holding stiff as a board, and the difference is nearly palpable. Jotaro can see the moment exhaustion takes its hold over pain, and Rohan begins to slip under the blanket that is sleep.
Jotaro takes the risk of removing Rohan’s headband then. His fingers card through the mess of hair left behind. Rohan leans into the touch like it’s the best thing he’s felt in awhile, and it probably is, given what his body’s just gone through. Jotaro won’t deny him that bit of relief, so he continues to pet through Rohan’s hair until there are soft snores escaping the mangaka. Even then, he doesn’t stop. The last thing he wants is to accidentally wake Rohan up.
Eventually being curled on his side and having nowhere to go takes its toll. Jotaro’s eyelids grow heavier the longer he stays put, and he doesn’t bother to fight the sleep that settles in his limbs first and comes for his mind second.
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stillness-in-green · 3 years
Text
Ahistorical, Absurd, and Unsustainable (Introduction and Part One)
An Examination of the Mass Arrest of the Paranormal Liberation Front
INTRODUCTION
The title states my premise here: the breezy way My Hero Academia presents and resolves the mass arrest of the Paranormal Liberation Front is ludicrous. If taken as presented and allowed to stand without being further addressed, it serves as a breaking point from which the series will be incredibly hard-pressed to recover. Why, you ask?
From a logistical standpoint, it strains credulity. From an ethical standpoint, it suggests deeply troubling problems with the state of Hero Society. From a thematic standpoint, it unravels whole portions of the narrative’s spine. I’ll be looking at each of these facets in turn to discuss the questions they raise which My Hero Academia has not yet seen fit to answer. Many in fandom don’t seem to be thinking about it too hard, so I’d like to lay out—in exhaustive detail—all the reasons I find this plot element so wildly out of touch with causal reality.
Please note that while they are discussed when relevant, this essay is not principally about the named characters in the League of Villains or the erstwhile high command of the Metahuman Liberation Army. The sorts of consequences Shigaraki Tomura or Re-Destro would and should be facing in a courtroom are orders of magnitude beyond what Random Liberation Warrior X would be, but it’s the mass numbers of Random Liberation Warrior Xs that this essay is most concerned with, as they are the ones most in danger of being swept under a rug and forgotten by the series in its current state.
Further, be advised that this essay in its full form is both very long (about 21K words excluding Sources and Further Reading) and will contain extensive discussion of real-life Japan—comparisons to historical events, minutiae of its legal and carceral systems, and general cultural views on criminality. This will include references to imprisonment, government oppression, and incidents of terrorism both real and in the context of My Hero Academia.
Being as it is about quite a recent event in the series, it will also contain heavy spoilers all the way up through the most recent chapter as of this writing, Chapter 310. It likewise contains spoilers for the spin-off series My Hero Academia: Vigilantes up through Chapter 95.
The essay will be posted in parts on tumblr and in full on AO3. For the tumblr posting, I will provide links to other tumblr posts as I reference them; however, as I would like this to actually show up in the tags, outside links containing my sources and further reading will be provided in a separate post following the conclusion of the essay.
Lastly, I spent an entire month writing this as a fan who is sympathetic to the villains in general and the MLA in particular. If your response to the very concept of this essay is anything to the tune of, “Who cares what happens to a bunch of disgusting quirk eugenicists?” know that you and I have radically different views on the MLA, and the role of the justice system in general. You are, of course, welcome to read the essay anyway, but, having said my piece about the MLA and their relationship with quirk supremacy elsewhere, I will not be engaging with arguments or gotchas on that subject here.
PART ONE: The Facts at Hand
Before we get too deep into things, let’s lay out the basic facts: how many people are actually involved in the arrest, as well as some comparisons to real-life events to contextualize that number and provide some referents for the issues the arrest raises.
Re-Destro gives the numbers of the Metahuman Liberation Army as 116,516. A lot of people go on to die in Deika, though we’re never given a solid count. The biggest batch we see killed in a single go are the press of sixty or so people Shigaraki decays, then the sixteen-ish Toga drops, though some of those might possibly have had quirks that allowed them to survive. Any number of people certainly died as well simply in the moments we didn’t see, and who even knows how many were caught in the radius of Shigaraki’s last attack.
Further, there may well have been a measure of organization bleed when the MLA became the PLF (though I imagine trying to leave was a very dangerous proposition, giving an additional reason to stick it out on top of the general cult-like mindset the MLA displays); likewise, I find it hard to believe that there wouldn’t have been some deaths at the Gunga Villa, be it from Gigantomachia’s departure, Geten cutting loose, or combatants—be they hero or comrade—overcompensating somewhat in the middle of a chaotic melee.
I suspect it’s overestimating the depletion, but for the purposes of simplicity, let us call it 115,000 remaining members at the time of the raid.[1]
We are told that, in all, 16,929 people were captured at the villa—just about 17,000. 132 escaped in the confusion; this is a fairly negligible number, save for the fact that it includes high-ranking advisors, but not Machia and those of the Front that were with him.
We are further told, and I quote, “Their bases scattered around the country were hit too, and the sympathizers rounded up.” Horikoshi did not provide any solid numbers for this,[2] but if we’re to assume that it is just the rest of the group (more on the logistics of that bit of spycraft later), “the sympathizers” would be 98,000 additional people.
However, 98,000 may be a significant underestimation. It’s based, after all, on a number Re-Destro cites to describe “warriors lying in wait, ready to rise to action.” This begs the question: is Re-Destro quoting the entire membership of the group, or only those who actually are ready to take action? In other words, does his number account for non-combatants? Is he counting young children? I tend to assume the MLA doesn't have a retirement age as such,[3] but if they do, does his number account for the elderly?
How many more people might be “sympathizers” to the PLF insomuch as they are e.g. the six-month-old infant daughter of an MLA couple? What about the ninety-year-old man in the retirement home whose only real act of war these days is tying up the phone line at City Hall to complain about repressive quirk use laws? How about the fired-up fifteen-year-old that was going to get their official code name next month, just in time to join the first wave of attacks? If he’s being literal in his usage of “warrior,” the actual count of the MLA could easily be twice as high as the number he actually gives.
But okay, maybe Re-Destro’s number does include absolutely everyone. Maybe he’s just being rhetorical—maybe, in his mind, even the six-month-old is waiting to rise to action; she’s just going to have to wait a bit longer than the rest, is all. For simplicity’s sake, let’s stick with the numbers we have: a low-end of 17,000, a high-end of 115,000, captured not merely in a single day, but allegedly in the span of a few hours.
I’m sure I don’t need to stress that that is a lot of people. But how many people is it, practically speaking? Is there a precedent? Anything we can look to for guidance on how this kind of thing would go in real life?
Comparative Analogues
The PLF is tricky to categorize for the purposes of real-life comparison, especially compared to how they’re treated in-universe. In some lights, they resemble a protest movement; in others, a terrorist group. Just looking at the way the government reacts to them—and certainly in terms of their combat capabilities—they might as well be an all-out insurrectionist uprising! Below, I’ll examine a handful of historical incidents that cover that spectrum; they will continue to provide useful reference points throughout the rest of this essay.
The March 15 Incident
In the first half of the 20th century, Japan saw a huge uptick in socialist and communist activity, much to the general dismay of the ruling powers. In response, they passed a series of laws commonly referred to as the Peace Preservation Laws, designed to better enable authorities to suppress political dissent and freedom of speech, particularly that of leftists and labor movements.
The Japanese Communist Party was founded in 1922, but outlawed in 1925. This merely drove members underground, however, from which position they pointed supporters towards the numerous other parties with more legally tolerated leftist policies that had cropped up in the wake of the JCP’s dissolution. Following the February 1928 General Election (the first in Japan held with universal male suffrage), those parties supported by the JCP saw enormous gains in representation in Japan’s National Diet. Alarmed, the Prime Minister declared the mass arrest of known communists and suspected communist sympathizers. Accordingly, on March 15, 1,600 people were arrested throughout Japan.
Over the course of twenty years, some 70,000 people would be arrested under the auspices of the Peace Preservation Laws, the majority of them in 1925 through 1936. The laws would eventually be repealed by American occupation forces after WWII, and the JCP allowed to operate openly once again.
The Rice Riots
In 1918, an inflation spiral had driven the price of rice out of control, exacerbating economic insecurity and hardship. Farmers were being paid a pittance of the market value of their crop by rice buyers and government agents, while urban consumers were being charged an exorbitant price for the staple food, as well as a great many other consumer goods, and their own rents. In response, a series of riots ripped across Japan in late July through September. Beginning with peaceful protesting in a small fishing town in Toyama Prefecture, the unrest escalated to involve riots, strikes, looting, even bombing in demonstrations that reached major cities like Tokyo and Osaka. The scope was and remains unprecedented in modern Japanese history, seeing some 25,000 people arrested.
The Sarin Gas Attacks
If you’ve heard of any of them, it’s probably this one. On March 20, 1995, members of the cult Aum Shinrikyo released sarin gas on five different Tokyo Metro trains in the middle of morning rush hour. Thirteen people were killed and over 5500 injured, about a fifth of them moderately to severely so. If not for small errors in the production of the gas and the rudimentary distribution method thereof, loss of life might easily have been catastrophically higher.
Aum Shinrikyo was a doomsday cult, but the motives for that particular attack were much baser than bringing about the Apocalypse: at the time, the organization was under police investigation for its involvement in the kidnapping of a public official. Its leader, Asahara Shoukou, hoped that the attack would divert police’s attention from a planned raid.
It did not do so; police executed raids on numerous of the cult’s compounds, arresting many of its senior members both immediately and over the course of the following months as the investigation unfolded. In all, over 200 members were arrested of an organization that counted its membership prior to the attack as numbering 11,000 people in Japan.[4]
The February 26 Incident
There have been a significant number of uprisings and violent protests in Japan’s modern history; when looking for a representative example, I focused my attention on the military coups of the 1930s and 40s, largely because they took place in what was closest to the modern Japanese legal context.[5] Of that subset, I chose the February 26 Incident for the severity of the government response. The others disintegrated before they could be properly carried out or were met with sympathy for the dissidents despite the obvious illegality of their actions. The February 26 Incident, however, was when they finally became too troublesome to dismiss, and the Emperor himself ran out of patience.
In this period, the Japanese military had become drastically factionalized into two main groups—an ultra-nationalist group, largely powered by a group of young officers, which supported the Emperor and wanted to purge Japan of Western influences, and a more moderate group mainly defined by their opposition to the above faction.[6] Occurring in 1936, the February 26 Incident involved the young officers, believing that they had tacit approval from higher-ranked officers of their own faction, launching assassination attempts against the nationalists’ most prominent enemies in the government (six assorted Ministers and former Ministers in the Emperor’s Privy Council and the Diet) and a bid to seize control of the administrative center of the capital and the Imperial Palace, after which they planned to demand the dismissal of more officers and the selection of a new Cabinet.
The seven ringleaders had convinced eighteen other officers to lend their forces to the attempted coup, a total of around 1,500 men, calling themselves the Righteous Army. Several of their assassination attempts failed, however, and while they succeeded at taking the Prime Minister’s residence and the Ministry of War, they did not manage to secure the Palace. The outraged Cabinet demanded the Emperor take a hard line with the rebels, and by the 29th, the Righteous Army was surrounded by 20,000 government troops and 22 tanks. In this hopeless situation, the officers dismissed their troops; two committed suicide (a third attempted it unsuccessfully) and the remainder were arrested by military police.
International Examples
For obvious reasons, I prefer to limit my examples to events that happened in Japan. However, I will also be briefly referring to a few international incidents of mass arrest, taking place in India, the U.S., and Egypt, respectively.
In the following parts, I'll use these facts and comparative analogues to take a closer look at what readers were told became of the Paranormal Liberation Front.
Part Two
-----------------------------------------------------
Footnotes (Part One)—
[1] Over three months’ time, they likely gained some new blood also, simply in the course of their usual recruitment tactics. You don’t get an underground organization that size by sitting back and waiting for people to come to you, after all. I don’t know a practical way to calculate that, though, so just bear it in mind for when I talk about new members later.
[2] Possibly because he was aware that 17,000 people captured in one fell swoop was difficult enough to swallow without adding on more than five times that number.
[3] We do, after all, see some very aged people fighting in the streets of Deika.
[4] They were considerably more international than you may have heard. They had 50,000 members at the time, some 30,000 of them based in Russia.
[5] The Meiji Constitution was ratified in 1889; universal suffrage (for men) was granted in 1925. The modern constitution was enacted in 1947.
[6] More moderate, mind, in the context of the Imperial Japanese military. Neither of these factions had any time whatsoever for leftist movements, hence all those suppressive crackdowns.
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lazaefair · 3 years
Text
Sequence of events the way I perceived/remember them. I’m doing my best to be as honest as possible and to minimize self-defensiveness, but I’m only human. Trying anyway:
I join All & More.
Within the first few days, I either bring up something about fandom racism, or challenge something someone said that I felt played into cultural biases regarding Marwan/Joe and the conversation turns to fandom racism. I don’t remember which happened first.
Either way, over the next weeks, between other conversations I get into several arguments/discussions about fandom racism with a few different people, including goldheartedsky. One person blocks me, which is how I learn about Discord blocking, and I block them back.
Goldheartedsky in particular keeps making remarks that show a clear bias against Joe/Marwan on the same spectrum as the biases that other Top Joe Stans have demonstrated in the previous months. She’s by no means the only one, as there is a mix of Top Joe Stans, neutral (I thought at the time) parties, and then me and Ven. But goldheartedsky and I get into it a few times with varying degrees of civility. She demonstrates that she relies heavily on strawman fallacies, red herrings, disingenuous mischaracterizations, and outright lying as tactics.
At some point I realize that she has blocked me (I can’t tag her or add reactions to her posts) so I block her back, as everything she had been posting had been upsetting me anyway.
After that, I started blocking people who got to roughly the same threshold as she did - attempting to preserve my fandom experience and give my stress levels a break.
By the time the conversation in question happens, I’ve blocked a handful of people, and basically just ignore the “blocked messages” bars that replace their posts and act like they’re not there. This is what happens during The Conversation - there is at least one blocked person, maybe more, but I don’t know because they are blocked and all Discord shows you is “3 blocked messages” or however many messages have been replaced.
I also unfortunately was lackadaisical about tagging the people I was actually responding to, which would have muddied the flow of the conversation for anyone else who didn’t have the exact same people blocked that I did.
I never clicked on the “blocked messages” bars, the channel has since been deleted, and I haven’t looked at the screenshots being spread around, so I still have no idea what any of the blocked people said in that conversation.
As for the substance of the conversation - this isn’t an excuse for myself, but I was talking about the ethics of the presented issue the way I usually talk in ethics discussions, like a puzzle to be solved. I realize now that I should have...not done that. To the people I was actually talking to, I am genuinely sorry for the pain I caused by not being empathetic enough to the human/emotional side of the issue.
Some hours after the conversation peters out, a person I hadn’t blocked - but who was in the same loose friend group as the people I had blocked - comes into the channel and says that what I had said wasn’t appropriate.
I reach out to Ven to get a second opinion about it. She agrees, which is when I realize I fucked up.
While I am talking to Ven, one of the not-blocked people whom I’d actually been responding to in the conversation - who is Jewish - comes back in and basically clarifies what I’d intended to say on my behalf. (I did not ask them to do this, and I am grateful to them for doing it.)
Edit: I am aware that this person has just publicly disavowed their defense of me. I’m leaving in what I originally wrote, since I’m laying out the sequence of events and their post was part of the reason why I handled the situation the way I did at the time.
Ven advises me, and I agree, to leave it there, because this person has kindly already said what I would have said - and also because I reckoned that nothing I could have said would have actually satisfied the person who called me out, as they’d demonstrated consistent hostility toward me in all our interactions prior to this.
So I leave it there, the channel moves on, and I figure that’s that.
Fandom racism conversations continue, with multiple arguments happening in which the contingent of Top Joe Stans, including goldheartedsky, continue to deliberately use rude, insulting language and various fallacies in response to my and others’ requests to reconsider contributing to racist tropes about Marwan/Joe. In an argument about the content gap between types of stories and art produced between Joe and Nicky, one of them says outright that there is no content gap, citing the survey done by tog-resources in July.
I’d already been considering conducting a full survey of Joe/Nicky fic, but this spurs me on to actually do it. Ven and I start surveying, and publish our results in late February.
I won’t rehash that entire round of discourse here, but this is when the screenshots from A&M first appear and various people receive anons accusing me of being a TERF and antisemitic, etc. One of the anons contains enough circumstantial information for me to figure out that goldheartedsky is behind it, or at least part of it. This is my first indication that goldheartedsky was one of the blocked people in that conversation.
I decide to stay silent about the accusations because that seems like the high road to take, and because it feels like addressing them at all would lend credence to them.
The people throwing accusations around had either blocked me, or I had blocked them, so any words that I said about them wouldn’t have been taken in good faith anyway, especially after it got to bakedapplesauce.
Bakedapplesauce, who blocked me after receiving one of the longer anons, never contacted me to get my side of the story.
A while later, a third party contacts me to try to bring me and goldheartedsky together in a conversation to clear the air. I didn’t initiate this, but agreed to do it only if the third party acts as a go-between, 1) partly because I had just started a new job and was busy IRL so I didn’t think I could manage a conversation in real-time, but primarily 2) because then if screenshots of the conversation ever appeared in public, there could be no question as to who had done it. Goldheartedsky refuses this precaution, so I call it off.
So, that’s my side of the story. I don’t have screenshots because screenshots can be altered and taken out of context, and also because I just don’t do that shit. I regret that it’s gotten to this point, but since the February round of discourse, it always felt like there was no way for me to address the accusations without coming off as defensive or dismissive.
Also, until this round of discourse in June, no one had approached me about it in sincere concern. I’m only writing this post at all because this shit has now been splattered onto other people, including Jewish people who have to watch their generational pain be used as a shield and a derailing tactic to deflect from challenges to malicious, conscious racism. These anons only crop up when fandom tries to address racism, and only using hostile “gotcha” phrasing that makes clear they’re not actually concerned about antisemitism, they’re just trying to deflect. Well, they can try.
That being said, I do acknowledge and recognize that in that particular conversation, I was thoughtlessly callous about something that is gravely painful, and I should have known better. As I’ve said many times before, no one gets to declare by fiat that they’re “not a racist” because that’s not how cultural conditioning or implicit bias works, and it’s the same for antisemitism. I’m sincerely sorry for that and have been trying/will continue to try to do better.
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redsector-a · 3 years
Text
AO3 Ask Game
I was tagged by @themarshalstale which, thank you so much! I feel like I always get missed on these (I know why, it’s been 84 years since I published anything but still). 1. How many works do you have on ao3?
46 it seems. Which...look I’m slow man so that’s not surprising. lol Also crippling depression does not make for much production, at least for me.
2. What’s your current AO3 wordcount?
309662 according to the stats.
3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
So do I could only AO3 or in like life? lol I suppose it should only be on AO3 since this is an AO3 ask game. Hrm. Basically AO3 can be summed up as: Marvel (in several iterations - all Avengers related) Torchwood Highlander But isn’t it more fun to consider my entire fandom life, which, I’m sorry, I’m old so...yeah. Not all of this is was published and beyond that a lot is not available anymore...which is likely for the best. Highlander Star Wars Babylon 5 Ronin Warriors/Samurai Troopers Marvel (again, several iterations also of note Avengers and X-Men both count) Torchwood Star Trek LOTR Stargate (SG-1, SGA) Mortal Kombat I dabbled with the idea of Potter fic but never got past the ideas stage.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
1: You rearrange me till I’m sane Clint finds himself spiraling into a deep depression after the Battle of New York...until the Winter Soldier ends up saving him and inadvertently giving him a new purpose – to save the man that the Soldier had once been – Bucky Barnes. Not one to be outdone, the Soldier decides that his new mission is to ensure that Clint remains alive himself. Protecting a blonde man with a self-destructive streak is somehow very familiar to him. Through the back and forth of who is saving whom they cross the country and learn more about themselves and each other – and perhaps find a reason for living. 2: Five Dates Bucky Didn’t Realize He Was on And the One He Planned Himself To say that Bucky was surprised when Clint kissed him was an understatement. But it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he learned they'd been dating for months without him realizing it.Clint gets whisked away for a mission before they have time to talk and Bucky is left to figure things out on his own - hindsight being 20/20 he can't help but wonder how he missed things the first go around.
3: Puck Luck Bucky Barnes is used to the ups and downs of an NHL season. He's used to the unpredictability of the game, knows that bounces don't always go your way, but that doesn't make a broken hand in the final third of the season any easier to deal with. Especially not when he ends up with an impromptu roommate/personal assistant in the form of one Clint Barton - his agent, Natalia Romanova's (rather attractive) friend he hadn't known existed before his injury.
It's just for six to eight weeks - what could possibly happen in that span of time?
4: Loose Lips Launch Ships
Based on the following prompt: “We go to school together and I think you’re cute and apparently you’re also the pizza delivery guy and my little sibling opened the door screaming hey sibling! you know that kid you’re in love with? you really weren’t kidding when you said his jawline could cut steel holy shit-” Bucky is the pizza delivery guy. Clint's younger (foster) brother has a big mouth.
5: Indelible Bucky Barnes has a pretty decent life – a good job, good friends, a cat that adores him - but something is missing. He’s always found body art to be beautiful and inspiring, and on a whim (and with the hope that maybe he can find what he’s missing) he decides to take the plunge and get a tattoo. That's how he meets Clint Barton. Clint's talented and compassionate and there is an instant spark between the two of them. It's not long before Bucky finds himself wondering and wanting more from the relationship despite the ghosts of the past that crop back up. Because Clint makes him feel normal in a way he truly hasn't for years...
(this was pre-Alpine so I was totally chuffed when canon confirmed Bucky’s status as a crazy cat lady (affectionate).
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not.
I really really really want to do it but I often times don’t end up doing it. There are a few reasons. First, I am akwward AF and bad at interaction adn I feel like just saying thank you would be...not enough? Second - I often times tend to like...turtle (aka retreat into myself) when life gets Too Hard/Busy which happens a lot to me (sigh) and then I miss the vague window in my mind in which it would be okay to respond and then it’s even more weird. I do love and cherish all of them. Like there was one months ago that made me go “hmm...I didn’t think I was going to do a sequel to that fic (You rearrange me till I’m sane), timestamp glimpses sure but a sequel hadn’t come to mind” but then the comment made me think! So...who knows? lol Anyway, I literally have been rereading some in an effort to try and get myself going again. Know that if you have commented, I love you.
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
At the moment? Probably: Look at you look at me Bucky's in love with Clint - problem is he's really not supposed to be. For Winterhawk Week 2019 - Forbidden Love (I really don’t want to give away the spin in the fic but...if you’re familiar with the Secret Avengers Vol 2 run circa 2013ish (aka when SHIELD initially ‘took control of the team’) that’s a bit of a hint as to the spin). Were it done, Torch Song would be up there. ;) Torch Song Clint is sent back in time, via an alien device, to 1938. While he tries to figure out how to get back home, he takes up singing and entertaining to make ends meet and does his best to not disrupt the timeline.Then he meets a 21 year old Bucky Barnes. --- A torch song is a sentimental love song, typically one in which the singer laments an unrequited or lost love, either where one party is oblivious to the existence of the other, where one party has moved on, or where a romantic affair has affected the relationship.
7. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?
Does *wanting* to write crossovers count? lol I want, so badly, to do more crossovers and fusions (which...are kinda deeper versions of crossovers in a way). The only one I do have posted is a crossover between Highlander and Torchwood -
The Immortal Mr. Jones A series of vignettes (some long, some short) in the life of the newly immortal Ianto Jones. My most ambitions project that I have been working on since late 2011/early 2012 is a fusion of the Avengers with Stephen King’s the Stand. I will get that done at some point *shakes fist*  The Stand, for those who don’t know it, is an epic 1000+ page novel about a flu epidemic (I know) that wipes out over 99% of the population and then two figures representing Good and Evil pull the survivors in two directions for a showdown. So basically it’s a non-powered modern AU set in that universe. It’s a passion and comfort project. lol
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Yes. Well, minor bitching back when I was in a prior fandom because I tagged a pairing in a fic but it was pre-slash and not labeled as pre-slash. I got hate on...I think it was Torch Song? And I’ve gotten hate on tumblr re me and my fic in general as well. Fandom! *jazz hands* Oh! And I’ve also been hit by those reviewers within Winterhawk (among general Clint pairings actually) who like rate you on either number scales or the “meh” scale. Which isn’t hate exactly but...it’s passive aggressive bullshit because I can’t believe none of them realize at this point that the authors can see their bookmarks - you know?
9. Do you write smut?
Yes. Do I write it well? I have no idea. lol
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I am aware of. Well...there was, I think, one of those reposting sites that had a few fics on it but I don’t think it was being passed off as someone else’s? I can’t quite recall. It’s why I have a note on AO3 about reposting my work anyway.
11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not entirely, but sort of. Let me explain - I am part of a PBEM game; which for those unfamiliar since it’s a term that was most heavily in use 15-20 years ago, in which you basically do a round robin type writing thing but rather than everyone writing the same characters you write your own characters and you play off what other people have done. Another way of looking at it is  it’s basically DnD without dice and written down rather than done out loud. You also don’t have to all be around at the same time. It’s a lot of fun and yes I have been in it for 20 years even though there aren’t many of us left but they are some of my dearest friends and fabulous writers. Wins all around.  One of the other writers and I have actually toyed with the idea of doing a co-written fic actually, mostly because we work super well together and keep getting ideas for things but can’t really do them as rpgs since the pbem style isn’t used much anymore.
12. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Winterhawk probably. Though, let’s be real - Han & Leia are epic and amazing as are John & Delenn (from Babylon 5).
13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Does wanting to expand The Black Stallion books as a wee child count? lol Not much of that was written save for world building ideas but there was a great oral tradition of telling stories to my friends. Otherwise...maybe a tie between Star Wars and Highlander. Star Wars was a love since I was super young but the writing bug didn’t hit me until around the same time Highlander was a thing as well.
14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? You rearrange me till I’m sane for sure. Though Torch Song, if it were finished, would be tied I imagine (I suck at picking favorites). Honorable mention to Puck Luck and Indelible. Tagging: I have seen this like a million times (okay 5) so I feel like everyone has been tagged already that I know. But...I guess... @vexbatch @crazycatt71 @heartonfirewrites and @disruptedvice sorry if anyone has been tagged before.
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thirsthourdemon · 4 years
Text
Headcanon on their online platforms but mainly on Twitch, onlyfans stuff, patreon, tumblr
Includes: Demon bros + undateablesss
Genre: Crack, Fluff and slight smut
Warnings: NSFW mentions
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||Lucifer
-He didn’t have a big online presence because he was active, no no
-He had an online presence cause everyone always sees him on Diavolo s pictures and such so for a time they shared an audience
-One time Diavolo and Barbatos were doing a thing where they read a book aloud for some sort of game
-Diavolo kind of recorded that for a little bit
-ASMR I TELL YOU
-People liked it so much they suggested for “the one with the deep cold voice”, luci, to do asmr on youtube or something
-He doesn’t know what an Onlyfans is however he does have a patreon.
-Diavolo was interested in the idea and discussed it with him
-HE BLEW UP CAUSE EVERYONE WAS FREAKING OUT OVER HOW AMAZING HIS VOICE WAS OF COURSE! 😡
-His fandom consists of either people who are interested in what he reads or...Horny people who get off at how proper and low his voice is
-His profile picture is a picture of him with his head cropped out where he’s fixing his gloves
-Luci isnt like super famous but he has a loyal fanbase that appreciates him a lot also lots of simps with daddy issues
-He was confused as to why someone would ask him to be their father
-He gets the daddy kink but why???
-Last post: A picture MC took where he’s holding a whip cause mammon fucked something up 🙂
||Mammon
-Bold of us to assume he didn’t already have one
-You already know why he’s on here.
-He has random content but he mainly got his audience since he kind of tried modeling thing for a while. It was for a big brand on their new jock type jackets
-Mammon really wanted cash at that time and he got the thing over and done with making him a couple more grims richer
-The photographers told him they could transfer the pictures though! So he just saved his pictures because “Who wouldn’t want a picture of THE mammon?”
-That gave him the idea
-His audience? Whoreknee
-They even accept the fact that his captions for some pictures are “You should be honored you get pictures of me”
-He posts that with a blushing face half of the time HAHAHAHA
-Levi found it and just laughed at the pictures
-Surprisingly enough the pictures were actually well taken because MC was forced into em
-His most popular picture was the one with him was actually a picture that the brothers took of him tucking in what appeared to be goldie on a seperate MINI BED WITH A SMALL TOY LAMP BESIDE IT
-He did a QnA for his followers to celebrate on his instagram
-PFFTT He got so many questions about Goldie
-Was dubbed “Goldie’s Daddy” after that
-Last post: A picture of him wearing the new Luxury brand jacket he got and his keys in front of his car with the caption “Daddy’s going for a ride”
||Leviathan
-I’ve always head canon that Levi knows how to draw digital emotes. Like he just picked it up cause he wanted to make fanart of him in henry together 😔
-Also has a red bubble or an etsy where he sells some prints and stickers of fanart 👀
-He went on twitch since there were so many TSL streamers there who just played games while they discussed theories as well
-Levi is an emote artist and while he draws he sometimes just discusses the theories with his fellow Yucky Otakus
-He’s the type to really interact with everyone even though he barely does that in real life
-Sometimes though when he gets packages that fans sent or ones that he ordered he’d stream unboxing them.
-He hates showing his face? Oh dont worry He’s wearing a facemask and all that
-His fandom is genuinely into him. Like they actually like him as a person but kinda once got into a scandal on gatekeeping
-He took a break for a bit but he kind of said sorry and everyone just forgave him because he isn’t really the type to do drama and it was just that one instance-
-Overall loved by the community due to how chill he is and how invested he is on fan theories
-He has a twitter btw and lemme tell you it’s just threads and threads of discussions
-Whenever he does stream unboxing videos though and he shows his shelves everyone freaks out how he has EVERY FUCKING VOLUME OF EVERY ANIME AND GAME
-People sometimes ask him personal questions and he tries his best to try to answer them but he shows a face where he looks uncomfy
-Everyone just bullies anyone who makes him uncomfy giving his fanbase a very protective reputation
-Last post: “Unboxing fanmail L8er @ 10pm LOL CYA GUYS XD”
||Satan
-He has a tumblr. You cant tell me he doesn’t have one.
-He had tumblr like back in the old day though like when porn was still available here.
-Get this...He’s known all through out the academia blogs. He INVENTED Academia
-Satan has 1 blog and that’s it. It’s his main blog and he just posts pictures of the book cover and does essays, reviews or sometimes he writes the ending he wanted to happen.
-Dont get me wrong he has a patreon but only because people loved getting more exclusive takes of stuff like his book notes on certain pages or sometimes his notes and thoughts on Artistic Erotica
-Probably has a Ko-Fi because he though he needed it after most of the blogs he followed had it
-He thinks it should be “Table of Content” and not “Masterlist” so he uses just that
-Profile picture is him wearing his signature washed out green grandma sweater while he has a book in hand and a cup of earl grey on his table
-People go to him falling in love with his aesthetic and Book reviews but they stay in love with him because he is big on one on one discussions actually
-He goes for one on one voice calls where he just...He talks to you about any book of your choosing
-Fans send him tea but he knows better than to eat something a stranger gives so he makes beel take a taste first sometimes but ultimately scolds the boy when he takes too much
-He wasn’t supposed to have merch but everyone liked the idea of small packages (More like letters) that really do look old and vintage
-He usually only give those to the people who pay for the top tier stuff
-It usually contains 1 type of tea, a letter he wrote for them himself and a bookmark with his name stamped on it
-He got the stamp custom made ❤️
-Last post: (Insert 5k word essay)
This is what I thought of Edgar Allan Poe’s “A cask of Amatillado”
Playlist: (Insert soft classic Music playlist on Spotify)
Tea: Black Currant
||Asmodeus
-ONLY FANS THROUGH AND THROUGH
-Is a brand influencer as well
-The brand ambassador of this pretty well known semi-luxury skin care brand
-His devilgram? Perfectly made by his PR team which is just him and solomon
-Before I move onto the NSFW stuff I want to emphasize how Beautiful his instagram is and his aesthetic
-His aesthetic is romantic/sexual tension/Unparalleled beauty
-Also a make up brand influencer and has his own make up line
-something along the lines of “The Devil’s box of charms 🖤”
-The type to DG live whenever he’s just showing off the make up look he did or the outfit he got
-The house of lamentation may have PR packages stacking up due to how most of them have an online influence but out of 10 boxes 7 of them would be for Asmo
-OKAY NOW ONTO NSFW STUFF
-Lemme tell you this...He has a specific drawer and space in his closet just for the sexy outfits he has.
-The demon’s onlyfans has pictures of him just teasing his audience where he’s wearing a black skintight get up and his bulge is showing
-Nudes are for mid and top tiers
-His fandom loves seeing in stocking and chokers
-“The choker is from etsy and here’s the link to their shop~”
-He doesnt completely show his body but...Him in suggestive clothing gets everyone pre cumming
-His fandom is just filled with simps 😔
-He loves them and blows a kiss towards the camera everytime he ends a live
-Probably has had a scandal or 4
-Posted an Ahegao once and everyone lost it
-Has been the face for Ahegaos ever since
-Belle delphine who?
-Definitely tik tok famous too 😎
-Has memorized all of Doja Cat’s songs
-Last post: “Hope you guys are ready for tonight’s session~ 😈” With a picture of him in an Fuchsia and black themed lingerie set. A collar with a bell on it.
-Bonus: One time Solomon summoned him while he was taking pictures and he was still in his lingerie set. 😛
||Beelzebub
-Was originally inspired by Mukbangs Channels so he did them on youtube too
-You get his Mukbangs on your recommended, You subscribe because of his cute and funny reactions whenever someone in the backgrounds is astounded to how much he’s eating
-Everyone knew beel as a cute guy who just does Mukbangs and loves to eat
-He once did a fridge raid and ended up eating everything in the fridge
-That was THE MOST CHAOTIC VIDEO on his channel cause you can just see luci and MC trying to make him stop
-He eventually got a patreon because mammon told him people will give him more money for food like that and to be honest he made a patreon but mammon takes care of it from time to time
-Oh you knew him as this sweet beautiful boy who just likes eating? hERe HavE sOmE WorKOUt pICs
-His body got everyone thirsty or may I say Starving
-S I M P S everywhere
-His patreon content is just him making small videos eating or pictures of him being all sweaty from the gym 😛💦
-“DADDY BWDONMXMSKC PLEASE FEED US”
-“Eh? You should feed me instead” *opens his mouth*
-Fans send him lots of boxes of weird food to see his reaction sometimes
-Did the fire noodle challenge a bit late but everyone is surprised to how he isn’t giving the reaction like they expected him
-Spice tolerance? Unmatched
-His fandom is either “UwU Beel please eat try this!” Or “Daddy Please FEED US WITH YOUR DELICIOUS THIGHS! 😩🥵💦💦💦”
-He does the service where he sends you his body building pictures except he isn’t sending them, Mammon is.
-Manager Mammon 😎 Gets a half of the profit
-Can I just...BeelProbablyHasnevergottenintoanyscandalbuthasalotofhaterssayingthefansonlylikehimforhishandsomefaceandgreatbodyandnicevoicebutlikewhatiswrongwithlikinghimbecauseofthosethings?Itisntbadtolikethatstuffatall
-Last post: “🍙 Thank you to @(Your Username) for the Onigiri! I finished the whole batch! Please send more food”
||Belphegor
-Sleep Guru
-Im sorry but I cant see him having any other social media aside from tumblr, twitter and Devilgram
-Belphie barely checks his phone but he has tumblr because apparently there’s a thing called the SandMan’s Box Community
-It’s like LootCrate, a subscription service that gives you stuff like Comfy Pillow sheets and tea for better sleeping
-This even gives you something like sleeping masks or ear muffs.
-The community is well...nocturnal
-His ask box is always full of his 100+ mutuals who just discuss stuff with him
-Whenever he actually does try to type online he makes articles about the best sleep positions or stuff like that
-His fandom is just loving mutuals who sleep and take care of each other
-They have a discord server where it just plays soft music to help everyone sleep
-Last post: “Humans aren’t so bad when they’re asleep”
||Luke and Simeon
-He has a big following on twitch where he just bakes sweets in his cute little hat and-
-Clearly you can tell I follow him on twitch
-The type of twitch streamer that no one hates on because why would you? He is literally just baking and cute comments
-Sometimes he streams with Simeon and everyone loves both of them
-When people give money they dont give “money” no no...they call donating headpats
-Luke is just so adorable that everyone just...
-“Angel Lulu’s Protection Squad⭐️”
-He got famous when he...He doesnt want to call it a collab but He made a lot of sweets and gave them to beel so everyone freaked out and thought
-THE SWEET BOY THAT EATS A LOT AND THE ANGELIC CHILD THAT MAKES SWEETS A LOT ARE FRIENDS?!
-He is now pissed that everyone thinks they’re friends 😠
-Basically his fans started making dishes and candy inspired by him
-Sometimes they send it in and Simeon has to confiscate some because
-“Im sorry, guys. You are all really sweet and I know that you mean well but Luke isn’t allowed much sweets yet”
-No one ever EVER lewds luke
-Fortunately Luke’s fandom has the least amount of pedophiles because everyone drives them away the moment they try something
-Whenever luke does fan mail/unboxing videos people just adore how Simeon places a glass of water at the table below the camera and the scissors or cutter he uses is child proof
-Even though Luke is the main person on his account everyone also notices Simeon.
-How couldn’t they? He looked like he wanted to make everyone in the audience live a better life
-Add that with luke’s wholesome baking and BOOM! You are now ready for a better life🌟
-Last post: It’s a picture of Luke shyly showing of his new batch of sun and moon shaped sugar cookies. “Sun and Moon. Tune in later at 3 pm to see how we made these!”
||Solomon
-He barely posts but he helps asmodeus with his stuff
-Too busy with anything else but helps out when things get interesting
-Proposes Ideas for Asmo sometimes when the demon doesn’t know what to wear for a live or a story
-Laughs at Asmo sometimes when he gets into scandals and drama
-Happy cameraman ❤️
-People follow him because 1.) He’s hot 2.) The fans ship him with Asmodeus
-Last Post: “When will you learn 🙂”
||Diavolo
-He is a vlogger~ Not a very active vlogger but a vlogger nonetheless
-He films anything he can but he’s more known on tik tok and devilgram rather than twitch or youtube
-People have been thirsting for him ever since and no one can convince me that they dont just shamelessly call him daddy whenever he goes on live
-Barbatos makes sure however that whenever it isnt appropriate anymore that he would tell diavolo to turn the camera off
-Wranggled Luci into his mess and now everyone knows the face of that one dude who just reads documents
-Everyone lowkey ships them
-Diavolo is the type to take a picture of a big meeting or a retreat out of instinct to just document his life
-He actually didnt know about vloggers before but he just liked the thought of documenting it
-Everyone picks up “Master” vibes as they say from him hehehe
-He doesnt have an Onlyfans or patreon 😔😔😔
-I honestly would have subscribed to his services
-Last post: “Barbatos made a delicious meal for us at the retreat today” Along with a picture of the Beautiful Demon Delicacy Spread in the table.
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Taglist: No one yet (Please be part of the taglist for more content like this ☹️ It’s getting really discouraging)
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acebladespades · 3 years
Note
Can I have 5. Comfort Item with Solaire and Oscar? A modern AU is preferred, but canon is fine as well.
Title: To act like a true knight
Fandom: Dark Souls
Characters: Oscar fo Astora, Solaire of Astora.
Word-Count: 5770
AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34015300
Summary: On a winter's night, Solaire loses his equipment.
Author's note: It is going to be 1k words, I said. It will be a comedy fic, I said. And now... look at this almost 6k angst fest haha. I hope you like it :D
Prompt: Comfort item.
@sicktember
“Look, there’s the idiot.”
“By the sweet tits of Lady Gwynevere, what the farmer said is true!”
“Ah, our favorite buffoon never fails to put a smile on my face.”
“Astora would be a far duller place to live in without him. But...shouldn’t we stop him? That fool will freeze to death at this rate.”
“Ha! Solaire’s head is thicker than a bowl of oatmeal. You’ll get frostbite on your toes and nose before he even considers listening to a word you say. That wouldn’t be very smart of you, would it? Besides, you are already ugly as sin. Frostbite will do no favors to your hideous mug.”
“Shut your hole, bastard. Your features are hardly what I would call carved by the gods themselves. It is a blessing our helmets keep me from gazing at it too often. On second thought, I was wrong. Lord Nito really outdid himself when he made you in his image.”
“Aye, aye, keep talking.”
The two elite knights turned their backs on the frozen field and walked away, laughing and mocking each other. Their minds were too clouded with drink for either of them to notice the presence of a third elite knight nearby.
He had followed them outside.
He had remained quiet as his two fellow knights mocked Solaire, and he continued to do so until the drunk men were once again inside the tavern.
“Pathetic.” Oscar said under his breath before returning his attention to Solaire “All of you.”
Solaire was too far away from him to listen to his derisive mutterings. Even if he had heard him, Oscar doubted Solaire would have dared to say something in return.
Oscar was an elite knight.
Solaire was a lowly upstart, just freshly knighted in the battlefield a few months ago.
As foolish as he was, Solaire was well aware of his place in the world and he acted accordingly.
But he still has much to learn.
“Curses.” Oscar said in resignation, the falling snow starting to form small mounds on the top of his helmet and on his pauldrons.
Yet, when he started walking, he did so towards Solaire and not the rowdy tavern.
I knew I should have stayed out of this. If I catch a cold, you’ll answer for it, Solaire.
The snow and the cold slowed Oscar’s pace. It took him a moment to reach Solaire’s side.
The lower knight failed to notice Oscar at first, too focused on trying to pull some carrots out of the frozen field.
Underneath his helmet, Oscar frowned.
He would not be so easily ignored, especially not by Solaire.
“Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but the ground is frozen. You’ll never manage to harvest these crops.”
Solaire gasped and jolted in surprise. In his shock, he pulled the carrots’ stems too strongly and ripped them from their roots.
Solaire straightened his back and looked at Oscar. His face was hidden behind a thick piece of cloth wrapped around his head and neck, leaving only a small slit between the folds for his eyes.
At least you had the common sense of protecting your face from the cold. Hardly an achievement, but worth mentioning.
“See? What did I tell you?” Oscar pointed at the stems on Solaire’s hand. “It was bound to happen. I don’t know what else you were expecting.”
Solaire looked down at the stems he was holding. Disappointment quickly showed in his eyes.
He let go of the destroyed leaves, ashamed, as if he had been defeated in a duel before his lord and a royal court.
Ridiculous.
Still, Solaire’s regret was genuine. His actions had been foolish and improper of a knight, but his heart had been in the right place. That alone deserved some acknowledgement, even if just a little.
“Well, now you know this little quest of yours was a fool’s errand all along. ” Oscar folded his arms on his chest. More than to look severe and imposing, he did so to keep himself from trembling. How Solaire had endured so many hours out in that sheer cold he couldn’t comprehend. “You should have known better from the start. Don’t forget you are a knight now, Solaire. It’s time you started acting like one.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” Solaire replied harshly.  He dedicated a quick glare to Oscar before grabbing a new bunch of frozen stems and repeating the process. “Now, if you are done talking, please leave. I need to get back to it. The pleasure was all mine, sir.”
Oscar was speechless.
Had Solaire, foolish and gullible Solaire, really talked back to him?
Was he willingly ignoring him?
Had he ordered him to go away?
With his entire body burning with anger, Oscar forgot about the cold simmering in his bones and grabbed Solaire by his forearm. With a violent pull, he forced him to stand up.
“I told you to stop! You are making a fool out of yourself.”
Even more so than usual.
Oscar had to bite his tongue to keep those words from escaping him. They were too cruel. Furious as he was, he wasn’t as heartless as to mock Solaire in that manner.
“Knights do not harvest crops for the farmers, help milkmaids make butter, cut lumber for the blacksmiths or shoe other men’s horses. You looked ridiculous enough when you did all these errands when you were a soldier, but back then, it was only your own reputation you were tainting. Things have changed now. Your actions affect us all, Solaire. A knight’s actions are every knight’s responsibility. Make a fool out of yourself and you make a fool out of us all.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong!” Solaire broke free from Oscar’s grip easily, more easily than Oscar had expected. For a moment, Oscar feared Solaire would retaliate with an attack, but all Solaire did was to glare at him again. “So what if I am a knight? This farmer’s crops will die if they don’t get harvested soon. How will he feed his family if this happens? Did any of this ever cross your mind or that of your friends, or were you three too busy laughing at me? Don’t think I didn't see you. Don't think I didn't hear all you said.”
Shame almost found its way into Oscar’s heart. He fought against it, unwilling to bear the faults of others as his own.
I did nothing wrong. It’s not my duty to speak up for upstart knights. Those who can't defend themselves shouldn’t be knights at all.
“You are wrong.” He said sternly. “They mocked you, but I did not. Bold of you to assume I would waste my breath on you, Solaire. By the lords, knight a peasant and suddenly he grows prideful and defiant. Maybe this too was inevitable. But what else could I have expected from Astora’s biggest buffoon? ”
Oscar had not intended to say the last sentence out loud, but Solaire’s impertinence and stubbornness had depleted his patience.
He had tried to be kind to him, he had genuinely attempted to save Solaire from the cold and from further humiliation, and in return, Solaire had confronted him.
It wasn’t fair.
Without warning, Solaire took a violent step toward Oscar.
Against his will, Oscar took a step back.
They stared at each other, with nothing but the winter winds breaking the silence.
Though the visor of his helmet kept Solaire from noticing, it was Oscar who looked away first.
He had known that insulting Solaire wouldn't be amusing or satisfying, but neither had he expected it to fill his chest with guilt.
“Just leave.” Solaire said under his breath. There was no anger in his voice, only exhaustion.
He turned his back on Oscar and focused once more on the frozen crops.
Soon, it was as if he had forgotten about Oscar’s presence completely.
Stubborn fool.
Oscar thought of walking away and conceding Solaire his wish.
His arms and feet were already getting numb inside the gelid confines of his armor. His nose was stuffed and his throat was starting to get sore.
A fever and a cold by tomorrow's morning were mandatory.
Perfect, what a wonderful way to end the day and start the next. Was it worth it? Lords, I knew I should have stayed in the godforsaken tavern.
“Do as you wish, then.” Oscar turned his back on Solaire. “Don’t be shocked when everyone mocks you tomorrow for allowing some farmer to trick you into doing his work while he gets drunk.”
“What?”
Oscar ignored Solaire at first, decided not to dignify him with an answer, but the honest disbelief in his voice prevented Oscar from leaving him to his fate.
With a heavy sigh, he turned around.
“That downtrodden and sick farmer that so much begged for your help didn’t look so sick to me. He is healthy enough to be dancing around and singing in the tavern about how you fell for his lie.”
“No.” Very slowly, as if his arms and legs had turned into stone, Solaire stood up. “That’s not true. He… he is very sick, you see. He can’t dance. He has a bad leg, a childhood injury that never truly healed. It never stops hurting, but it gets worse during winter. That’s why he...he asked for my help. His family...”
“I doubt his imaginary wife and children will starve to death any time soon. He seemed rather proud of his bachelorhood, now that I think about it. A jolly and happy life, free of brats and a nagging wife , or so he called it.”
“Oh my, what a misunderstanding. No, no, you got it all wrong.” With a trembling hand, Solaire pointed at the small house and the other end of the field. “His family is over there. They can’t leave the house in this weather. The… the children, they would get sick. They can’t help their father harvest these crops in this cold… and that’s why I...I...”
The silence that followed was uncomfortable even for Oscar. Had his fellow elite knights been there to witness Solaire’s moment of realization, they would have laughed at him without any regard for Solaire himself.
Oscar, perhaps, would have laughed too.
Yet, at that moment, he felt no desire to laugh at all. His anger, so incensed just a moment ago, vanished from his heart.
“I’m a fool.” Solaire said with what sounded like a drowned laugh. He dropped to his knees as a blow of wind snatched the cloth wrapped around his head and took it away, exposing Solaire’s face to the freezing cold. “What did you call me? Astora’s biggest buffoon… well, you aren’t too far off.”
He laughed again, but it was a hollow sound.
“It’s always the same.” Solaire lamented. “Always.”
“I see.” Oscar did not know what else he could say, but he knew that neither he nor Solaire would benefit from staying out in the cold any longer. Gentler than before, he helped Solaire back on his feet. “We’ve no business here. Let’s get back to the tavern before we freeze to death. I’ll see that the farmer receives a proper punishment for his impertinence.”
“No.” Solaire refused to move when Oscar pulled him. “Don’t. What good would any of that do?”
“Plenty. He’ll never dare to trick a knight again, and he’ll be a good example of what happens to those who think they can get away with such insolence. Do not worry, his punishment shall be harsh, not lethal.”
“No.”
“Solaire, you can’t possibly allow this to---”
“I said no.”
“Are you trying to impress me by being stupidly kind and forgiving? If so, let me tell you that it isn’t working. Now, if you are done with this little act of yours, let’s get moving. Hurry; I won't carry you if you pass out. I’ll just leave you here, so you can become a giant snowman for the children to play with.”
“Go where? To the tavern, so that the others can mock me?” Solaire took a step away from Oscar. “Haven’t they mocked me enough? No, I won’t do it. I may be an idiot, but even an idiot has pride. I’d rather stay here and be a snowman by tomorrow’s morning than be everyone’s laughing stock any longer.”
“That would be futile. They are still going to mock regardless of what you do, so might as well be warm and out of danger as they laugh at you. You cannot blame them for it, Solaire. If you don't want to be treated like an idiot, you shouldn't act like one.”
It was the truth. After the stunt he had pulled, Solaire would receive little else than mockery and laughter from knights, merchants and peasants alike for the days to come.
What else does he expect?
What else does he deserve?
Why does he...
Solaire fixed a weary gaze on Oscar. He said nothing, and there was no need, for it was enough to make Oscar’s thoughts come to a halt.
Concealing his regret under a neutral tone, Oscar reached out for Solaire’s arm a third time.
“I won’t allow it.” He said. “If anyone dares to laugh at you, they’ll answer to me. If you are worried about my fellow elite knights, don’t be. I’ll keep them in check too, you have my word.”
Rather than grateful, Solaire seemed baffled, as if Oscar had promised him to make him an elite knight first thing in the morning.
“Why?” Solaire said. It was then Oscar noticed how pale he was, and how loudly his teeth chattered. “Why would you do that? We are nothing to each other. I don't even know your name.”
“By the Lords, you are never satisfied, are you? I didn't offer you to be your friend and my name is none of your business. I want to help you, that's all. Of all people, you should understand, Solaire.”
“And I want to. I want to believe you mean what you say, but for all I know, it’s all a trick, just another one of the elite’s jests against me.”
“That would be a rather poorly executed jest, and I would be the victim of it, not you. By staying here with you, I’ve already caught a cold. My head hurts, I can't feel my hands, my nose is stuffed and it will be a miracle if the snow hasn’t rusted my pauldrons and greaves. Do you think I’d endure all these mishaps just to trick you into some ridiculous situation?”
Solaire’s expression softened, but suspicion and wariness remained in his eyes. Oscar was already starting to consider knocking Solaire unconscious and dragging him to the tavern by one of his legs when the lower knight finally gave him an answer.
“No, I don’t think you would.” Solaire said. He spoke so lowly that Oscar could barely hear him. “Forgive me for not trusting you. I did not intend to be rude, I just…”
“Oh, Solaire.” Oscar rested a hand on his shoulder on what Solaire interpreted as an understanding gesture. Sadly, he was quickly proven wrong. “You talk too much. I’ll listen to your apologetic speeches all you want, but only once we are back to the tavern. Understood?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good.” Oscar said with relief. “Let’s go then.”
“Wait!” Solaire exclaimed. “Just give me a moment to retrieve my equipment and then we--”
He looked around in all directions. Oscar did the same, but all he saw was a thick blanket of pure-white snow.
“I left them here.” Solaire pointed at a spot a few steps away from his feet. After a brief moment of pondering, he pointed at a more distant spot on his left. “No, I left them there. My helmet, my talisman, my sword and my shield. Or was it over there? No, it was here!”
“That doesn't matter.” Oscar snapped at him. “We don't have time for this. You’ll retrieve your equipment tomorrow.”
“I can’t leave it behind.” Solaire got on his knees and began digging with his hands. “My shield and sword will rust… my talisman will get destroyed too...and my helmet…. No, no, what a dreadful thought. I cannot leave it behind!”
It didn't take long for droplets of blood to start splattering around Solaire’s hands, but that wasn’t enough for him to stop digging.
“It’s not here.” Solaire admitted reluctantly. He stood up, no longer bothering to hide his desperation. He looked around restlessly, his panting creating small clouds in the freezing air. “I… I don’t remember. I--”
He turned around and faced Oscar, as if he could give him an answer, but there was nothing Oscar could do other than look at him in sympathy from under his helmet.
Disappointed and tired, Solaire looked down at his bleeding hands.
“Let’s go.” Oscar said as gently as he could, though it still came out like stern order rather than a kind offer. “There’s nothing left to be done here.”
Solaire did not answer.
Oscar was starting to fear he would once again refuse when he finally muttered a low, “Yes.”
-----------------------------------------------------------
Oscar did not have to carry Solaire. There was no need, as he only passed out after they entered the tavern. They were received by a jolly crowd. Some mocked Solaire loudly as soon as they saw him, whistling and applauding at him as if he was returning victorious from a duel; others were more discreet and simply gossiped among each other, covering their smiles with their pints and hands.
Before Oscar could order them all to be quiet, Solaire collapsed on the floor. He fell flat on his chest, as if a wayward arrow had pierced his heart and lungs.
A silence colder than the wind outside spread across the tavern.
“By the Lords, is the idiot going to die?” an elite knight said to his friend as he stopped leaning his ear against the closed door.
He spoke of Solaire as if he was a horse with a broken leg and not a man agonizing on a bed.
“How should I know? You’re the one listening to the whole thing, you stupid sod!” The other elite knight answered. Behind them, a small and curious crowd had gathered. Among them, there was the farmer responsible for that whole mess.
He was crying like a criminal sentenced to be beheaded publicly by tomorrow’s morning.
“I never meant for this to happen.” He muttered in between his sobbing. “It was a jest…”
“Quiet, you!” One of the elite knights exclaimed. He shooed the peasants away, threatening violence upon them if they did not disperse and returned to their own business that instant.
They all obeyed, even the farmer, though he was still crying when he left.
“That was a bit harsh.” The other elite knight told his partner. “They were doing nothing wrong.”
“Perhaps, but I couldn't hear a damn thing with their blabbering and that farmer’s cursed sobbing. “ The elite knight rested his helmeted ear against the door and closed one of his eyes as if that sharpened his hearing. “Now you shut up too so that I--”
The door opened.
The elite knight sprung backwards like a scared cat. He crashed against his partner’s chest, and together, they watched a third elite knight emerge from the room.
“By the Lords, Oscar! You almost scared me to death!” The elite knight exclaimed. His anger soon waned, overtaken by his curiosity. “Speaking of death... Tell us what happened! Hurry, before the peasants come again like chickens hungry for breadcrumbs of gossip. What will happen to the idiot? Is he going to die?”
The last word came distorted with an amused snort.
“Hey now, ” the second elite knight said to his partner. “I may find Solaire’s antics fun and entertaining, but you shouldn’t laugh at him right now…not in his current state.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve had too many drinks and… Nah, to hell with it! I am not sorry at all!” The drunk elite knight exclaimed, no longer bothering to repress his laughter. “Why should I be sorry? Why should we pretend this is not what Solaire deserves? Serves him right for allowing some peasant to deceive him. In fact, where is that farmer? Bring him before me so I can kiss him on both cheeks for granting me some joy on a stressful day! Where are you, you magnificent bastard? Come here! Now now, don’t be shy--”
The elite knight never got to finish, for his helmet was forcefully removed from his head by Oscar. Before he could react or understand what was happening, a gauntlet shaped like a fist crashed on his mouth.
He fell on his back, blood dripping from his mouth and busted lip.
“Oscar! Have you gone mad?!” The second elite knight asked in distress as he went to his partner’s side and helped him sit down.
“You damn bastard.” The injured elite knight stuttered, touching his bloodied mouth tenderly with his fingers. “You loosened my front teeth. You won’t get away with this, you’ll see! Once I’m done with you, you won’t be knight enough to guard the public muck pit!”
“You talk too much but you say so little. Typical of a fool.” Oscar said,unaffected by the other’s threats. “How about you stop wasting your nasty breath and do something good for a change? Guard this room, the both of you. Do not let anyone enter, and should the healer need anything, make sure you get it for her.”
“What, are we the guardians of the idiot out of a sudden? As if!” The drunk elite knight stood up, despite his friend doing his best to keep him quiet and on the floor. He spat a bloodied phlegm on Oscar’s tunic. “Look at you, acting so smug, trying to put yourself above everyone elsr, like you always do! Take your selfrightouness and cram it up your ass, Oscar. As if you cared about the idiot at all… as if you didn’t hate the way he makes all of us Astoran knights look like fools! What is that you always say? If he didn’t want to be treated like an idiot, he wouldn’t act like one. Well, you are absolutely right! And if he didn’t want to be at death’s doorstep, he shouldn’t have stayed out in the sheer cold for hours like an absolute nitwit!”
“Well, aren't you fond of my sayings. Here's a new one for you.” Oscar said calmly before pulling his fellow elite knight closer to him and landing another punch on his lips. The other fell to the floor again, and this time, he spat out not only blood, but two teeth. “If you didn’t want to get your mouth torn apart, you wouldn’t have opened it so much.”
The injured elite knight couldn’t answer. A sudden rush of vomit, mostly caused by the amount of drink in his stomach, finally came gushing from his mouth.
“Make sure this fool stays down and doesn’t cause any more ruckus.” Oscar said to the second elite knight, who looked at him as if he was a scolded child. “And please, do as I told you. Guard this door and make sure the healer has all she needs while I’m gone.”
“I.. I…” The elite knight looked at his almost passed out partner and then at Oscar again. He sighed, almost as exhausted as Oscar was. “Very well. But, where are you going?”
“I won’t take long.” It was the only answer Oscar gave him.
As he left the tavern, the curious crowd looked at him as if they had just witnessed a murder. They all stepped out of his way as Oscar passed them by.
All except for a farmer with red and swollen eyes.
“Sir.” He muttered to Oscar. “Sir, I’m so sorry. You have to believe me, this is not what I wanted. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Oscar stopped and glared at him from under his helmet, but his expression soon softened.
If he did this, it is because he is following our example. This is what we elite knights have allowed.
“Sir.” The farmer kneeled next to Oscar and tried to hold his hand. “Please.”
Oscar backed away from him as if he had been burned and left the tavern without saying a word.
------------------------------------------------------------------
He felt unreasonably disappointed.
Perhaps, it was because of it that he refused to stop digging.
They’re not here.
The rational side of his mind whispered
They’re not anywhere.
A more fantasious but no less persistent side added.
“They are here. Somewhere.” Oscar replied to himself. If anyone saw him talking to his own mind, they would think of him as a madman clad in stolen armor, not as a rightful knight.
It would not be a baseless supposition, for an elite knight did not dig into the snow like some mutt in search of a lost bone.
Thankfully, or perhaps regrettably, there was no one around to look at him and laugh. Or, in a more idlilic scenario, to offer him a much needed hand.
You know who would be perfect for that? Solaire! But no… Lords, no. He had to go and get himself sick! And by doing so, he left this cursed task all to me! Who does he think I am? Some pig trained to search truffles for him? Some squire he can send to find his ridiculous equipment?
“They’re not here!” Oscar exclaimed, unable to state otherwise any longer. Snow had leaked through his gauntlets, freezing his fingers and lacerating his skin with dozens of sharp and small cuts.
He retrieved them from the snow and tried to stand up, but his knees and ankles were numb with cold and pain. After a long moment of effort, Oscar got back on his shaky legs. He turned around and looked at the many holes he had dug on the frozen field. Some of them were starting to get filled again with fresh falling snow.
Disappointment and anger faded and gave way to despair.
The helmet, the talisman, the sword and the shield.
If he didn’t find them soon, it wouldn’t take long before he lost track of the place where he had already searched.
And then…
So what if that happens? All I’d have to do next is go back to the tavern and forget about this whole thing. I’d owe no explanations to no one, especially not Solaire. That is if he isn’t already dead by then.
Oscar stopped thinking as he had been struck by an invisible hand.
Truth was that Solaire had not asked him to go find his equipment for him; he had been too moribund to do anything else other than rave like a lunatic about how much he needed to go back and retrieve his possessions before they got ruined under the snow.
Oscar didn’t understand why. The helmet was nothing special, the talisman was little more than an old rag and the shield was a mockery of what a knight’s shield should look like, with that foolish sun painted all over its surface.
The only piece with some value to it was the sword, and even that was highly arguable.
But even so…
“Dammit.” Oscar slowly walked to a new position and knelt down.
He repeated the process again.
Even if I am looking for nothing else than a bunch of scrap metal whose value is strictly sentimental, I will not give up. I will not be defeated by Solaire’s simple task! Who does he think he is? Who does he think I am?
He dug and dug.
Blood leaking from his gauntlets painted the red snow.
He kept digging, but he found nothing.
He moved to another spot, then another.
The result was the same.
My hands, my legs. I’m tired, I want to go back… no, no! Solaire stayed out in this cold for hours! Does he think I can’t do the same? Who does he think I am? An upstart knight, best an elite? Never!
Anger fueled his movements, but Solaire was not the reason behind it.
Why did he do it? What was he trying to prove? I don't get it… I don't… What am I…?
Oscar’s sight became blurry and his thoughts began to scatter.
Amidst his fever, he looked at me. He said…
His fingers scratched a solid surface.
"Please."
-------------------------------------------------------------------
He had survived the night.
His recovery would take a while, but his life was not in danger. The healer had done her job well.
Solaire had wanted to thank her, but she had left without waking him up.
Had she taken care of him for free out of the kindness of her heart, or had someone else paid her in Solaire’s stead?
Solaire could only wonder, but he knew the latter was more likely. He wanted to care more about the matter, but he had too little strength of body and spirit to focus his thoughts on anything beyond the room and bed he occupied.
The mere idea of going outside and facing the world was disheartening.
He was not naive enough to think his close encounter with death would soften the people’s hearts, especially not after he had survived.
He would be everyone’s laughing stock for the days to come. If he had managed to earn some respect from other knights since being knighted on the battlefield months ago, all of it would have been lost last night.
All his efforts had been wasted in an instant.
But I cannot stay here forever… I have to go back to my life. I have to live among my people, eat in their company, protect them and fight by their side. I have to face them with my head high.
The thought was meant to be comforting, perhaps even wise, but it only discouraged him further.
Solaire covered his eyes with his forearm and breathed out a bitter chuckle.
"But such is the life I've built for myself." Solaire muttered with a hollow smile as the silk of his shirt absorbed his tears. "Such is the life of Astora's biggest buffoon."
He wallowed in his self-pity for longer than he had done in his life. Eventually, realizing the futility of it and disgusted at his own weakness, Solaire stopped
Crying had solved nothing. The world outside  and its people remained unchanged.
Perhaps it would be best if I face it now .
Slowly, Solaire got himself out of bed. The taverner and the few people in the tavern at that time in the morning were as good a start as any.
Or perhaps…
The idea that so often fluttered around his mind became so vivid that it felt almost like an order towards himself.
Why not go through with it?
Lately, Solaire often considered it.
Why not attempt to become an Undead and leave Astora for good?
Could he really say he had something dear enough to him in his homeland to be bound to it any longer?
Friends and family he had none. His achievements were seldom recognized, his missteps were always remembered. He had believed things would change for the better after becoming a rightful knight, but last night, he had discovered he had thought wrong.
I love Astora. I love my people.
Solaire thought once he was done putting his armor on. It was too heavy for his tired body, but he was a knight. It was time he started acting like one.
But I can’t —
The sight of his equipment disrupted his thoughts. Solaire didn’t believe his eyes at first.
His helmet, his talisman, his sword and his shield.
Someone had found them and returned them to him. Solaire had not wanted to think about his lost equipment. He was sure they were lost for good, he was convinced that he would find them ruined by the snow once he went to retrieve them later that day.
But there they were, right before his eyes. Solaire promptly knelt down to inspect each piece. The feather of his helmet was gone, but the helmet itself was undamaged. His talisman was dry; whoever had found it must have hung it in the tavern’s hearth. His sword and shield would require a blacksmith’s care, but they were perfectly salvageable.
“But…” Solaire stuttered, relieved and confused in equal doses. “Who?”
Then, he remembered he knew the answer.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Oscar lifted his visor just enough to release his sneeze. He had not slept well, and the fever from last night had not disappeared yet.
But last night was gone and a new day had dawned.
There were duties he had to tend to, and they cared not if he was sick or healthy.
Such was the life of an elite knight.
“Look.” His fellow elite knight said to Oscar, bumping him strongly on the arm. Without his front teeth, he sounded like a completely different man, but the venom and resentment in his voice was palpable. “Your lady has come to bid you farewell.”
Oscar didn’t understand what the other meant at first, but everything became clear when Solaire’s voice reached his ears.
“Wait!” Solaire exclaimed. He had followed them outside the tavern.
Oscar saw how the two other elite knights walked away from Solaire and ignored him as if he was ridden with disease. They said nothing in derision to him, they simply turned their backs to him and left.
Oscar tried to do the same, but Solaire approached him before he could escape.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Solaire asked.
Oscar answered by turning his back to him, but he didn’t walk away. He supposed Solaire still had something to say.
He was not wrong.
“Thank you.”
Oscar remained still for a little while, but he left without saying anything in return.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Solaire watched the three elite knights go.
As they became lost in the distance, he could no longer distinguish the one that had helped him from the other two.
He stayed outside for a moment. Eventually, Solaire went back inside the tavern.
The idea from before never faded from his mind, and it gained strength whenever he heard a distant chuckle or insult thrown at him.
But when Solaire returned to the room and looked at his beloved equipment, he decided he would not go trough with it.
Perhaps, one day, he would.
But not today.
Now properly dressed and with his shield, his sword, his talisman and helmet in place, he left the room to face the world with his head high.
Not today.
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shewhorises-tjyj · 3 years
Text
Day 3: Teashop
I am going to be using “Bridgette” and Marinette. I know they’re the same person (Bridgette being a made-up name from the 2012 fandom) but this is the first thing that came to mind. Also, Bridgette and Marinette have don’t even know the other is alive (well, except when she sees Bridgette running after Felix. But she just chalked it up to a crush) same goes for Felix. She just sees his face from time to time because he’s a model {and actor. But he isn’t in a lot of films so he’s more famous for modelling} Oh yeah! Adrien does not exist or at least he isn’t mentioned.
It’s kind of switching from third to second to first person………So, it’s kind of messy.
“Felix!~” NOPENOPENOPENOPE.
He continued running (or well fast walking in other people opinion he was a Culpa there was no way he was going to be caught running!) her voice drew closer and closer as they ventured into a place he had never seen before but if this place could help him get away from ‘it’ he would take his chances of possibly getting lost and booked into the first store he saw. Coincidentally, it was a teashop. He quickly hid behind one of the walls and opened his eyes while panting before promptly freezing and tried to book it out the store when he heard a VERY familiar voice, “Feeliiixx!” before hiding behind the wall again. He noticed the girl looking at him like he was a madman (and okay, he probably looked like one) but he was overall surprised that she didn’t know him.
As the voice drew further away, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and dropped to the floor. The girl then proceeded to help him up and brought him to a table and left the room to make tea while he went and examined the place and the girl. The place had a mix of Japanese and Chinese furnishture that made him feel like he wasn’t in France anymore and instead at a traditional Chinese/Japanese house and the girl looked similar to… his stalker fangirl… but with a few differences that differed her from the other. For one, she had shorter hair that was let loose, her clothes were a red turtleneck long-sleeve crop top with the shoulder area being cut off, the back having a hoodie, the black skirt starting at the bottom of the crop top and reached right above the knees, black leggings and white tall sneaker boots that looked designer.
She could probably be a model or actor if, for the fact that he memorised every model and actor there is on the planet so that if he were to ever cross one he would not be as cold as he is.
When the girl came back she poured him a cup of tea before introducing herself.
“I’m Marinette. What’d your name?”
She didn’t recognise him?
“Felix.”
“Are you okay? You seem like you ran a good distance to get here.”
“…just trying to run away from a…………… fangirl.”
“Do you even know your way around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before.”
“………uh….”
“I’m guessing you don’t” if anything, she seemed amused by this.
“I just ran. I’ve never been in this part of Paris before.”
“Do you want help to get back to... wherever you live then?”
“while that would be most convenient I can just call my driver to pick me up. Could you tell me where ‘here’ is?”
“the 1st Arrondissement, street cours la reine.”
“thank you.”
He took out his phone and texted his driver of his location and to come pick him up and placed it back down haven’t yet received a reply and took a sip of the tea and perked up. It didn’t go unnoticed by the girl.
“It’s a mix of mint and chamomile tea. It helps sooths the mind and muscles.” (or so I found on google)
“it tastes devine” (oh my god it’s so unusual for me to write so formally.)
“Do you own this place?”
“Oh no, I’m just helping my grandfather open the shop today. He fell ill and was unable to come today so I volunteered to help keep the shop open for the day, he’ll be coming tomorrow” (THAT’S RIGHT! I’M MAKING MASTER FU RELATED TO HER)
“I see.”
*ding!*
Picking up his phone again he saw he had received a reply from his driver who replied positively saying he would be able to come in half an hour and in that half hour he had made small talk with the girl.
Thirty minutes later, a car honk was heard outside.
“it seems that my driver has arrived, thank you for your hospitality.”
Then, she smiled and it seemed like it lighted up the whole room and possibly outside as it was getting dark out
“Your welcome! Let me show you out.”
Once outside,
“It’s late out, do you want a ride back home?”
“Ah! No thank you, my house is near here and it would be a bother for you.”
“I insist.”
“Really! I can get home in a matter of seconds!”
*sigh* “Alright, I hope you have a safe walk home.”
“Bye!” she replied waving.
When he got in the car, he thought back to the day. She was the most interesting he had ever met. she didn’t know who he was even though his face was all over the internet and Paris. And anything she said was not particularily boring and she talked about her dreams with such passion he had never seen before. Plus, she knew more than most people in the span of 40 minutes than people who’ve known him their whole lives except maybe Bridgette who knew what she knew she certainly was an interesting girl.
Wait- oh god that sounds so affectionate- shit- no- He DID NOT gain a crush in just 40 minutes of knowing her- wait- I didn’t get her number- NO!- oh god no he’ll never meet such an amazing girl again. She said her grandfather own the shop maybe I can ask him- NOPE that would just be weird. He was just a stranger and he was sure she wouldn’t talk about him. If he asks her grandfather, her grandfather will think he’s a creep and even if he got a chance with her, her grandfather will probably make her break up with him-
He was suddenly pulled out of his stuptor when his butler/driver announced their arrival at the family estate.
“We’ve arrived sir.”
“Huh, oh thank you Oliver.”
“Anytime sir.”
After that day, he started to regularly come to the tea shop in hopes of meeting the girl but to no avail (well he did end up getting on good terms with her grandfather which was good if he ever saw her again…) but on one fateful day, that all changed.
“Class, please welcome our new student. Marinette Dupain Cheng.”
1246 words.
(I searched up ‘most expensive neighbourhood in Paris’ and I got four different places so… I did what any one would do. I searched up ‘Wheel Decide’ and placed the four different locations in the wheel and spun it and got ‘7th Arrondissement’ (it’s near the Eiffel tower) and went to one of the Arrondissement next to it which was the ‘1st Arrondissement’ and picked a street which was just across the seine ‘cours la reine’)
@felinettenovember
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yaz-the-spaz · 4 years
Note
But I want to know your theory. :(
ok ok i guess i’ll spill…i was kinda hesitant to share just cause i’m still not all that solid in my belief in it myself but basically it seems like maybe ziam has made it a tradition to have some kind of couples trip most years (if not every year) in february ever since 2014…
(btw for future reference this ask is a continuation of this ask re ziam both being publicly in vegas earlier this year)
ugh sorry guys! hit enter by accident and posted this wayyyy before i was anywhere near finished lol…this will be updated within the hour (if it doesn’t take me too long to get my thoughts out)
narrator: she did not finish it within the hour.
ok so part of the reason i’ve been hesitant to share this is because a good portion of it is VERY speculative and just based on a lot of guesswork and assumptions, but also there’s the fact that it feels like this is something major that more people in the fandom (or at least someone, other than little ass me lol) would have noticed before now and it kind of freaks me out that maybe no one else has?? (unless ofc i just haven’t happened to see any other posts there are about it idk)… 
also fyi a lot of what i propose throughout this is heavily based on info from this post just to make sure i remember to site my sources before we get into it lol
alright now onto the actual theory…
SO. all this started with me scrolling through old posts from late 2013/early 2014 and being reminded of the fuckery that was zayn’s bday that year (with the douche canoe crew and everyone pretending like liam was barely there as seemingly some sort of weird over-the-top cover-up)…the same party that seemed kinda like liam’s possible “introduction” to the malik family as more than just zayn’s friend/as his possible significant other. which was also only a month after that suspicious engagement-looking ring first showed up on zayn’s ring finger in december 2013 from bts midnight memories mv footage (and which stayed around as a necklace throughout january 2014 and early febuary 2014 right before the first appearance/debut of the mandala tat in mid feb). 
bts midnight memories mv with the ring in view - dec 2013:
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(suspicious?) malik family outing/celebration with the ring in view - dec (or possibly late nov?) 2013:
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[putting the rest under the cut cause as per usual with me this got insanely long]
liam and aunt zileh at zayn’s bday party - jan 2014:
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liam and one of the little cousins at zayn’s bday party - jan 2014:
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then sometime in between late jan and early feb 2014 liam went on a trip to barbados with his whole family (and supposedly also sophia lol more on that later*) while zayn was SUPPOSEDLY still home and steadily “posting” pics of himself at home with various members of his family (with the ring on a necklace clearly visible in the pics lol), anddd as some have also pointed out his hair was suspiciously unchanged in these pics despite his claim of getting a haircut BEFORE most of the pics were posted lol
zayn in family pics with the ring on a necklace - late jan/early feb 2014 (sorry i’m not the one who cropped his fam out lol):
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but yet we’re supposed to believe zayn - who had just gotten awarded the asian ambassadorship for the VERY FIRST time - mysteriously (and willingly) MISSED the ceremony on feb. 5th with absolutely no explanation. which…we all know how big a deal that was to him from the way he talked about it and how honored he was when he went in 2015…which begs the question if he was really just home not doing much of anything at the time in 2014 why in the world would he just pass/bail on that HUGE HONOR with no explanation??? mayhaps because he was actually already an ocean away with liam and fam in barbados celebrating his engagement (and getting his own “introduction” to the payne family) and literally COULD NOT ATTEND?
anyway so then, we have him getting the mandala tat around feb 18th 2014 - or at least this is the day he debuted it on his old ig, so the date may be a few days off from when he actually got it - but this still would’ve been shortly after they got back from the barbados trip when he debuted this particular tat (aka another solidification of the engagement??) 
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THEN we get the very first ig ziam likes from the famous and beloved aunt zileh (!!!) in this same month (still feb for reference, but she continues steadily and heavily liking stuff all the way through april when she seems to cool down again). fast forward to the 2014 brits at the end of february where we have the infamous moment with 1) ziam giddy as fucking ever, 2) zayn whispering into and practically mawling liam’s neck in public, 3) liam talking about how it was great to “fill each other in” on what they were up to during their break while zayn’s just steady standing there smiling like a loon and then 4) liam still later being like ‘you don’t wanna know’ when asked what he got up to (and zayn still grinning like a fool)
ziam being gross at brits 2014:
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so to sum up so far: 1) one of them possibly proposed around nov/dec 2013 (or that’s my best guess anyway based on the evidence lol), 2) then zayn shows up with a suspiciously-engagement-looking ring in dec 2013, 3) then all the weirdness with liam’s attendance at zayn’s bday party a month later (possibly also liam’s formal intro to the malik family), 4) then liam takes his barbados trip with his fam (and supposedly sophia lol*) just a couple weeks later while “zayn” stays home and posts family pics (but is very likely secretly on the trip with liam lol which is also possibly zayn’s formal intro the payne family and a belated celebration of their engagement), 5) and then we get the beginning of aunt zileh’s likes, 6) the debut of zayn’s mandala tat, 7) and the 2014 brits wildness…all in the space of like 3 months. and most of it happening in FEBRUARY. what a wild fucking journey right?
*side note/fun fact: liam and his fam were posting stuff regularly throughout the duration of the barbados vacay but there were literally zero pics of sophia posted from this trip until like dec 2014 or sometime around then when like ONE random pic suddenly surfaced/was posted and lots of ppl had already speculated that sophia was never there in the first place so once this one pic came up that idea got upgraded to people theorizing that they maybe had some of the fam go back a second time later in the year just to stage take photos to retroactively prove/authenticate the narrative that sophia was there lol
but anyway so back to the actual matter at hand - most of that shit happened in february right? specifically the barbados trip (aka the possible engagement celebration trip)…and when i was talking about all this to a friend we realized ZIAMI WAS ALSO IN FEBRUARY. AND SO WAS THIS YEAR’S VEGAS SHIT. AND THEN. AND THEN. My friend did some research and there was apparently this little known/barely talked about article (or at least barely talked about that i’m aware of) about liam taking a TRIP TO THE MALDIVES IN FEBRUARY 2016… which coincidentally (or not lol considering these shady ass hoes) is also around the same time he got his 4 tattoo (I believe this was the first article, or at least one of the first articles, that mentioned the tat’s debut) 
BUT WAIT. 
THE INSANE SHIT DOES NOT END THERE FOLKS.
GUESS WHICH MONTH THE CARTIER BRACELET FIRST DEBUTED?
FUCKING FEBRUARY 2016.
specifically on liam’s wrist in preparation for the 2016 brits (photo posted to his brits stylist’s ig on feb 23rd). and he didn’t take it off till like june.
so. quick timeline:
february 2016 - maldives trip and debut of liam’s 4 tattoo (around feb 21st); debut of cartier bracelet via liam (feb 23rd); (there was also that valentine’s day roses pic liam posted feb 14th of this year which was quite interesting considering he and c hadn’t even been officially announced as a “thing” yet…ofc we know it still got retroactively attributed to her anyway but whatever, we all know who it was really for lol 😏)
february 2017 - i don’t have anything on this year, partly cause i stopped paying as close attention due to heavy ramping up of stunts, although if anyone has more concrete info on this period that hints at anything please do hit me up and i will add it in, but anyway just based on a little light research there does appear to be a good period of inactivity from both of them during this time (as in both of them had quite a bit of time in february where they were pretty inactive on sm, not being papped, and essentially mia and would have potentially had time to go on a private trip) - UPDATE: HOLY SHIT I CANNOT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THIS BUT THIS IS THE YEAR LIAM SHOWED UP AT THE BRITS WITH THE MOTHERFUCKING 25 ON HIS JACKET AND FUCKED SIMON ALL THE WAY UP BY SWERVING ON HIS UGLY BITCH ASS SPEECH IN FRONT OF GOD AND ENTIRE WORLD (and i think also thanked zayn in his speech if i’m not mixing that up with another year??) - all on feb 23rd to be specific.
february 2018 - ZIAMI OBVIOUSLY (which specifically started feb 22nd, or at least that’s the day i’m counting it as ‘started’ cause it’s the day liam joined zayn in miami, can’t recall the exact day zayn arrived but pretty sure it was only a couple days before that)
february 2019 - zayn starts wearing this distinctive fishhook earring in all his ig pics, which on the surface seems like a pretty small thing, but quite possibly commemorates their famous august 2014 fishing trip (directly after which he also started wearing a fish hook pendant on a necklace back in 2014); this was also another period they were pretty quiet/mia as far as i can recall, although again if anybody has more concrete info from this time that could point to something please let me know, but anyway point being they again would have had a good chunk of time to possibly go on a private trip together
february 2020 - VEGAS BABY
ofc i’m sure you all will notice one year was left out - february 2015 they were on tour with no breaks coming anytime soon so they obviously weren’t able to go on a trip that year. BUT. february 14th 2015 (aka valentine’s day lol) is also the day liam was famously papped with some small shopping bags that looked suspiciously but precisely like the type that usually come from a jewelry store, and then later that same night they had a performance (for otra tour) where we have zayn pictured wearing a new gold bracelet (as in he hadn’t been seen wearing it ever before on tour or anywhere else) - btw the op of this linked post actually marks this day as the debut of the cartier bracelet but there’s a lot of counter speculation that it’s not and given that it doesn’t quite look like the cartier bracelet looked in later pics (it’s more round and more gold than the cartier bracelet which imo looks more angular and more kind of a two-tone/silvery-gold than this vday bracelet) i’m inclined to lean more towards it just being a regular but still very sweet vday-gifted bracelet. but anyway back to more important stuff. now considering this was literally just a little over a month before zayn left - and one of my theories for zayn leaving was that it was possible he felt it was the only way to save his relationship with liam…i mean if they were still giving each other vday presents they were clearly still VERY in love at this point. like that’s not the kind of thing you’d expect from a couple that was on the rocks and on the verge of breaking up and i know a lot of ppl (myself included for a brief minute) speculated that zayn leaving the band meant he maybe left liam too/or things weren’t working out b/t them or whatever, but given this context of the vday gifts just a few weeks before him leaving that doesn’t really line up…what does line up though is him being so in love and so sick of the bs that he might be driven to just be done with it all (as far as the stress of the band and mgmt bs is concerned at least). and ofc liam did say that zayn is the most emotionally impulsive/emotionally driven out of all them so when you think about it it really shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise…
anyway, in conclusion: 
it appears quite possible ziam has made it a couples tradition (ever since that first honeymoonish vacay in 2014) to go on some sort of trip/getaway together around the end of every february (or at least do something special together/for each other when they can’t) and in further conclusion I AM NOT OKAY AND WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS REALIZATION OKAY THANKS BYE 😭😭😭😭😭🌈🌈🌈 
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lipshinee · 4 years
Note
Any soft scenatios or headcanons with Lucifer or Mammon would be precious ^^ welcome to the obey fandom!!!
.Fluff scenario🥺🥺 Okay I chose Mammon bc I’m a simp for this man. It’s like the most cliché thing ever but I still loved writing it bc I’m a sucker for clichés. Ur first kiss w/ Mammon ♡
Warning: a lot of fluff and cheesy stuff
Mammon X reader
Adjusting your skirt, you stared at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. Your outfits consisted of a light and tight crop-top, a black skater skirt accompanied by your black shoes. You didn’t really feel like wearing something fancy, today you were simply having a fun time with Asmo.
The vibration coming from your phone suddenly caught your attention. As Mammon’s name appeared on screen, your face quickly turned red. « Oi! What’s all that about you going out with Asmo?? » Startled, you didn’t have any time to respond before he sends you another message.
« Ya ain’t going anywhere without me around!! Like I would leave you alone with that pervert <(`^´)> » You couldn’t help yourself but smile and giggle at his message.
You really can’t tell when you first started liking him. Maybe it was recent, maybe it was when he started getting all possessive with you, or maybe it was just the first time you saw him. However when you realized your little crush it was already too late, he was already firmly ingrained in your heart and there was no way getting him out of there. His smile, his loud laugh, his blue eyes, every single detail about him was intoxicating. It drove you crazy how much power he held over you, a single look from him and you would melt right then and there.
‘Pull yourself together!’ You reminded yourself and responded to him with a simple sticker. After learning that information, it was unavoidable for you to take a few more glances at the mirror before finally getting out of your room. Going down the stairs, you could already hear Mammon and Asmo bickering. « You can’t just invite yourself whenever you feel like it! »
Your laugh caught the attention of the two demons in front of you and they were both silents for a few seconds. Those seconds were all it took you to realize how breathtaking the avatar of Greed was. He was wearing his usual signature yellow jacket that fit him perfectly, his glasses were resting on his head and his white snowy hair was a bit messier than usual, which only made him more mesmerizing.
You must’ve stared for longer than usual because you noticed that Mammon started to get a bit flustered. « W-what are ya lookin’ at?! » You shook your head and responded that you were just spacing out. You could feel your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were almost surprised no one was able to hear it.
« Darling you look so beautiful! » Asmo said while hugging you tightly. A huge smile appeared on your face, and just when you were about to wrap your arms around him, he was pulled out of your grasp. Mammon was behind the younger demon and was glaring at him. Within seconds, they were arguing once again. You rolled your eyes and stopped them by announcing :
« Can we please go? Otherwise, you’ll be done fighting by the time the mall closes. » You didn’t wait for them to respond and turned around walking towards the front door, they quickly joined you. You decided for a walk since the mall was a bit close and hoped for a peaceful stroll but your wish was quickly stopped by the usual screams of Mammon.
On your way there, you noticed a garden that was full of flowers that looked similar to the ones you had in the human realm. You began to daydream about your life before the Devildom and how it completely changed you as a person. They brought you happiness when you thought you were a hopeless cause, and you were endlessly thankful for that.
You stopped listening to the demons’ conversation a long time ago until Asmo’s sentence got you back to reality. « I don’t understand! If you like MC so much why don’t you ask them out yourself instead of barging into MY alone time with them?! » While Asmo first had an annoyed look on his face, his expression changed into amusement when he saw you and Mammon turning red from his comment.
« H-huh? W-what are ya talkin’ about?! Why would I like a mere human anyway? » He desperately tried to argue, but Asmo wasn’t born yesterday, he could obviously through crushes with ease. Needless to say, he also knew about your crush as well. Actually, it was obvious for about anyone but you two.
You were pretty silent about the whole thing. Looking down at the ground and playing with your fingers, you tried your best to ignore the situation that you couldn’t possibly handle. Staring at you, Asmo’s face lit up, and had you met his eyes, you would have known he was preparing a mischievous plan. Finally, the avatar of Lust sighs and replies with a sad tone :
« If you say so. » Mammon was a bit taken aback. No teasing? He would give up just like that? No way. The demon was suspicious of his brother but preferred to stay quiet. The rest of the walk was really quiet compared to the beginning which only confirmed Mammon’s suspicions.
The three of you were walking around the mall. It’s only been a few minutes since you got here but Asmo has already started to whine about going to Majolish. Not really surprising, it was the avatar of Lust we were talking about after all. Heading to the shop, you couldn’t help but notice the malicious smile Asmodeus kept wearing, and only grew wider once you got in front of the store. Entering Majolish, the demon started to pick random clothes and threw them in Mammon’s arms.
« What the actual hell are ya doin’?! » He was even more confused once Asmodeus pushed him towards the changing room.
« Shh, just try these out, I wanna see those on you! » Witnessing the scene in front of you was quite amusing, even though you were just as puzzled as Mammon. Once he was in the fitting room, Asmo turned around and winked at you. « Well, I guess I have to go now. » What? What was he talking about? You must’ve seemed baffled because he sighed and continued :
« I pushed Mammon over there because otherwise, he wouldn’t have let me go, he doesn’t have the guts to stay alone with you. This way you can finally get the little date you always wanted to have! If he asks anything, just say something came up. »
Bewildered, you weren’t able to place a single word as he mumbled: « I’m way too nice. » and waved at you before leaving you alone. Shit. Your thoughts were racing as the anxiety kept rising. What were you supposed to do now? You weren’t ready for this! You weren’t even sure if Mammon really did like you! ‘Maybe I should just leave as well? Maybe we can just leave the mall right now?’ But the familiar voice behind you stopped all of your reflections.
« There ya go! Obviously, the great Mammon looks amazin’ in any-...Oi, where did he go?? » You turned around and looked at him only to be left breathless. Fuck. To make matters worse, the clothes he was trying on fit him like a charm. His button-down shirt had a few buttons undone which revealed the top of his chest, his skin-tight black jean which showed you perfectly the shape of his ass left you drooling all over him for a while. Mammon practically had to clear his throat for you to raise your head and look into his eyes.
« U-uh, he left. He...he had to go, something came up. » Mammon didn’t seem too phased at first and just replied: « Oh. » Then it hit him and his calm face rapidly turned to a worried look. Oh. He was going to be alone with you.
You both didn’t say anything for what felt like hours. It’s not that you didn’t have anything else to say, you had so many things you wanted to say but nothing was able to come out of your mouths. Finally, the demon ended up saying :
« O-oh, well I guess it’s yer lucky fay! Some people would kill to have me all for themselves for a day, ya know! » He claimed with a confident smile even though you could clearly see the nervousness in his eyes. You were a bit relaxed by the fact that both of you were apprehensive about spending some time alone. Mammon ended up going back to the fitting room in order to change into his own clothes. When you finally got out of the store, the atmosphere felt tense. What are you supposed to say right now? Your mind was clouded with endless speculations and doubts, you couldn't think of a single topic to chat about. Peering at the demon, it was clear he was in the same situation.
Bur for once in your life, you wanted to be bold. What did tou have to lose anyway? You knew you would regret it for to rest of your life if you didn’t take this chance Asmo gave you. Biting the inside of your cheeks, you went ahead and held his hand. His hand felt so warm and so big compared to yours, god it took all of your willpower to not melt instantly. He was the only one able to make you feel like this, he was the only one able to cause this warm feeling in your chest that was always so overwhelming. A single touch from him was enough to make your day, and it drove you crazy. 
« W-what are ya doin' right now?! » It was the only thing he could add. As if speaking without stuttering wasn't already hard enough for him, the poor demon was now a blushing mess. You found him so adorable, his eyes were fixated on your hands and the silence didn't feel so awkward this time. Walking around the mall like this made you realize just how much you liked him, you wanted to hold his hand like this every day, you wanted to be in his arms cuddling every night, you simply wanted to be his. After all, he's the reason for your smile. He's the one for you. He's your first man. With him, you felt like you belonged somewhere as long as he was next to you.
Your eyes widened when you sensed him intertwining your fingers together. This time, you were the one freaking out. Especially when he turned you so you could face him. With his other hand, he held your chin with his fingers and approached his face towards yours. He was so close to you, you were certain he was able to hear your loud heartbeat.
« I...I want to kiss you. » His electric blue eyes were piercing through yours, like he was waiting for an answer from you. ‘Can he get any more adorable than this?’ Smiling at him, you nodded your head. And without another word, he kissed you. At first, your mind blanked out from the surprise. His soft lips were the only thing you could focus on. The world around you stopped for a moment, and, just for the time of this kiss, you both were in your little bubble. As if life in itself paused just for the two of you to enjoy every single bit of that kiss.
For so long, you had sleepless nights dreaming of this day, and now that it was finally happening, you had a hard time believing it. It was so gentle yet enough to make your heart explode from his touch. You loved this feeling so much, you were drunk from this warm feeling only he could give you. And when he kissed you, you could feel the reciprocity of his feelings. He liked you as well, the avatar of Greed himself liked you and absolutely nothing could make you happier.
Finally, he pulled away from you, and though you didn’t say it out loud, you were very clearly saddened by it. Noticing it, Mammon laughed and gave you a quick peck on the lips.
« C’mon! Let’s buy some matching stuff. » He said with a huge smile on his face.
And you couldn’t help but notice that during the whole afternoon at the mall, he didn’t let go of your hand a single time. He was hanging to it like his life was on the line if he let go of it, you kept biting your lower lips to stop yourself from giggling like a middle schooler.
You spent hours in the mall, checking every single store available and laughing so hard your stomach started to hurt. You were happy. And he was the reason for it.
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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years
Text
Fangs
Commission for anonymous who wanted Cryptane with a side helping of Vampire!Crypto getting nailed by his bf due to a high on being champions.
Summary:  Crypto is a vampire. He gets the urge to feed mid being fucked by Octane. So he lets him and they both get a kick out of it. Octane just holds Crypto's head so lovingly to his neck as he takes mouthfuls of his lover's blood. They both cum and then Crypto legs go and is a blubbering mess of "thank you" to Octane
(Older content)
Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog :D
Minors and ageless blogs DNI or you will be blocked!
Fandom: Apex legends
Relationship: Crypto/Octane
Warnings: NSFT/R18, Both Crypto and Octane are cis, anal, dick piercings, piercings galore on Octane, blood, vampire!Crypto, vampire feeding, sharp fangs, dirty talk, and ofc Peach not being able to speak a lick of Spanish so we Hope for the best.
Words: 3.1K
_______________
Crypto never thought he’d fall in love- let alone with someone quite as full of energy and recklessness as Octavio.
Personally, he’d always been more of a loner, liking his own company over others’ and never having a need to indulge in such things as love and romance. Besides familial, that is. Not that he felt like he would outlive his partner or other cliché things such as that. Just that, well, he was comfortable alone.
So, you can imagine when Octavio Silva came literally running into his life at mach 5 speeds that all of the feelings that overwhelmed him in that moment would be stressful.
Getting into the blood sport known as the Apex Games was a difficult process even for someone as him who had studied technology for years. With different species of humanoid beings, you probably wouldn’t expect a vampire of all beings to be interested in participating in such a sport, and yet. He had his reasons.
Reasons to stay were completely different now. To want to be at the top of his games so sponsors would flood in and be interested, keep him a well-known person in the games.
Because now, now Octavio was a part of his life. And the apple of his eye for quite some time.
~Rest under the cut~
When feelings had arisen for the infamous daredevil, Crypto had been interested in what was to come from them. Digging a bit deeper into Octavio’s life wasn’t hard, the man was rather open. Not to mention finding news articles about a daredevil that used a grenade to cross the finish line wasn’t exactly hard to find. Then his social media, from him posting pictures with his ‘best friend’ Ajay to whatever he was doing at the current moment.
Maybe spending three hours looking at all of his social media and smiling over his pictures wasn’t a smart thing of Crypto to do, considering he was trying to AVOID the romance aspect. And yet...
Well, now they were a couple, so really, who knows what would have happened if he didn’t get flustered every time he saw Octavio’s banner up on the mountains. Or even watching him cheer and hoot on the drop ship in excitement for a match to begin.
Loving Octavio Silva was easy, but loving his habits was learned. Such as his messy dorm, or how he sometimes forgot to eat and if he did eat, he’d binge eat. Or if he ate a specific spicy food he adored, his scent would change and it would make Crypto make a face. And in turn, make his boyfriend laugh teasingly.
Another thing was asking Octavio to change his piercings from silvers to golds. Which wasn’t a hard request, especially when Crypto had outright offered to buy them for him anyway. But when Octavio had laughed and wiggles his brows, asking if Crypto knew how many he needed, well. Crypto had turned pink at the cheeks and pushed him away.
The next day, Octavio sported gold and Crypto could comfortably kiss him without the burn of a silver piercing on his tongue.
They were a comfortable couple. That much Crypto was thankful for. To the point when he’d get hungry, he’d no longer have to get a blood bag, but could use Octavio instead.
Of course, within limitations.
The beauty of blood bags was there was no worry of killing something, most vampires used that form to stop cravings of hunting as well. Though, the cold blood was the equivalent of eating a frozen dinner for humans.
Being bonded that way meant Crypto was in tune with Octavio’s scent. Could smell him a mile away, literally. Which was an issue in matches when they weren’t paired up.
Because Octavio could feel the pin prickles of doom and gloom hanging over him as he was stalked by the man he loved most.
Daredevil that he was, Octavio often liked the rush of being hunted. Something Crypto found enjoyable was when his partner would give him a run for his money. Darting into the planet of Talos through the thick plants and using his stim to get away quicker. All while Crypto was hot on his heels in search of his next meal.
It didn’t help that Octavio was a masochist, getting off fangs and teeth sinking into his neck and strong arms holding him in place.
All these thoughts are what go through Crypto’s head at a game well done. Wraith, himself, and Octavio were the winners. The banshee known was Wraith had eagerly celebrated with her own girlfriend, getting enveloped in the arms of Bangalore who had pouted at her teasingly for knocking her early on in the game.
Octavio’s energy is always high right now. Crypto could hear his partner’s pulse loud in his own ears, and when his eyes casually slide to look at him, he watches with great delight as Octavio celebrates.
Octavio is excitedly talking to the journalists who like to interview. All while running in place or bouncing, having to work out his energy as he talks animatedly with his hands. Crypto can’t help but watch from the sidelines, leaning in the hall with his head against the wall. Sweeping his eyes over his frame and lingering far too long on his tight shorts.
He bites his own bottom lip, feeling his sharp fangs dig lightly at the plush flesh there.
He wouldn’t last the night.
--
There’s a celebratory night out via the second and third placing teams. Elliott and Crypto naturally butt heads due to either instinctive nature. Elliott’s wolfish eyes and charming grin don’t change the fact he’s a lycanthrope who had sniffed around his territory of Octavio too often. Something Crypto didn’t take a liking to until Elliott made it clear as day he had a thing for Bloodhound. Someone Crypto was sure was a demi-god of sorts with the way they held themselves.
Naturally, Octavio is down for a night out. Encouraging Crypto with his mask pulled down around his neck and goggles up on his head. Resting on the fluffy green and black streaked mohawk. “Come on, babe! A little night out would be fun- I'll let you watch me dance, eh?” Speaking in a teasing tone, grin on his lips and a smile in his eyes. It doesn’t help his cuteness when he does a goofy dance move as a ‘teaser’.
How could Crypto say no?
It’s how he ends up sitting at a table. Dressed in tight black jeans, a low cut loose white t-shirt and his signature jacket. Watching Octavio excitedly talk from across the table with friends.
Octavio dressed in a black crop top with some matching black shorts that had a more punk vibe with the rips on them. Cinched at the tops of his prosthetics to not get in the way. Thrown over everything he had a black and green hoodie, the hood sporting a fan-made icon for him involving a bunny with a mask matching his own. The ears protruding from the hood and flopping if he had it up.
Around his neck he’d pulled his mask down so he could have a drink or two. His mohawk ruffled and sticking up this way and that as he grinned and laughed with Bangalore who had a few drinks of her own.
Crypto watches quietly from beside Bloodhound at a respectable distance away. Elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his hand. Eyes half lidded as he watches how Octavio licks his lips, sparing glances his way and smiling brighter each time when Crypto offers a raise of one side of his lips.
But, after awhile, time seems to slow and Crypto can only focus on him and the dull thrum of a bass overhead.  
Normally the scents here overwhelmed him, but with Octavio only a little bit away, he can only smell him. The deep scent of cinnamon and other spices that lingered around him.
How he knows that Octavio can feel his eyes on him because his pulse is accelerated just like when Crypto hunts him down for fun.
Since he’s sitting in the seat across from him, Crypto makes his interest known. Pressing his combat boot between Octavio’s legs from under the table. Watching him pause for just a moment before sputtering out a reply to Wraith’s question. Tanned, freckled cheeks flushing ever so slightly.
Cute, Crypto thinks. Pressing his boot a bit harder and nudging upwards.  
He knows Octavio likes the pressure, liked the bit of a scrape when he laughs nervously and calls out, “I-I think we should- ahh- Call it a night, si? Agreed? Okay! ¿Mi amor?” Octavio’s eyes are pleading, as if begging him to quit the teasing, to just say yes and follow.
It would be easy to say no. To tease him longer. But, with Octavio’s arousal now in the air and Crypto helpless to it, who would he be to say no?
He gives a nod, being polite and offering a quick smile to everyone as they say their goodbyes. Watching as Octavio has to shimmy out and snatch Crypto’s hand before he can do anything else.
They make it to Octavio’s dorm and Crypto is promptly slammed to the door by the shorter of the two. He’s already eager, head tilted and letting Octavio smash his mouth to his own. Crypto moans in response, fisting his fingers into his mohawk to drag the daredevil closer. Letting Octavio lick into his mouth and feel the rounded piercing of gold slide over his own undecorated tongue.
Feeling Octavio’s tongue slide over his fangs and purposefully nick his tongue only makes Crypto growl. Yanking him impossibly closer. Chest to chest as he fits a leg between Octavio’s and lets him rut while he sucks on the tip of his tongue.
When they part, it’s Octavio gasping for breath. Hard in his shorts and shrugging off his hoodie so he can then push off Crypto’s jacket with a shaky laugh blossoming from his chest. “You really are a little brat, hm?” As fingers tug at Crypto’s shirt, making him move his arms to allow it to be pulled off.
Watching Octavio duck his head to kiss at his neck, Crypto can only sigh, forcing him to take a deep breath and getting his lungs full of his scent.  
Warm, spicy, delicious, wanted more, needed to be closer- needed it- needed him.
He’s drunk on his scent alone. Feeling Octavio’s hips rut against his thigh like a horny dog as he drags his fingers into his mohawk once more. Huffing with pleasure when blunt teeth sink into his neck and suck on the flesh like he could leave a hickey so easily.
Encouragingly, Crypto lets out a soft moan. Letting his head fall back against the door as Octavio bites and sucks at his neck until he’s hard in his too tight of jeans. Tugging Octavio closer by the loops on his shorts so they can grind their hips together instead. Both hard ons brushing against each other until they’re rutting like animals.
Octavio whines in his ear, nosing at his neck as they cling to each other. The dry humping effectively driving them both up a wall.
“Octavio-” Crypto chokes out, feeling him move from his neck until they’re forehead to forehead. Crypto’s eyes closed and brows furrowed as a greedy hand grabs his ass and yanks him closer. Keeping him flush to Octavio’s body so his hips can piston for just a moment or two to hump him rougher.
Both men moan in response, Crypto’s a little breathier as he tries to push and get his point across.
It’s not long before clothes are being tugged off hastily. Crypto’s on his stomach, two lubed fingers fucking inside of him as he clutches the sheets under him. Biting Octavio’s pillow as his hips rut into the bed in response to each thrust and twist of fingers.  
Behind him, he can vaguely make out dirty talk mumbled under Octavio’s breath. Some things he can’t catch, but other times it’s: “Look at you, mi amor, so greedy.” “You’re going to be so tight on my cock.” Then a tight hiss of breath when he enters with three fingers and Crypto chokes out a whine. “Fuuuck. Yeah, baby, keep making that noise.”
Crypto’s cock gives a weak jerk in reply. The scent of Octavio’s room, of Octavio behind him, of their mixed scents- it's all too much. “Just fuck me!” He finally cries out demandingly. Right as fingers curl temptingly and hit the spot in him that makes his hips jerk and his thigh muscles flex.
Octavio rolls him over after that. Fingers pulled out and wiped on his thigh. He’s achingly hard and Crypto’s mouth waters to take him. Three gold barbells lining up the underside of Octavio’s cock are always so tempting to want to lick at. Same with the ones in his nipples and the dermals on his hips.
Hands tug his hips closer. Crypto is near in a frenzy of murmuring ‘yes, yes, yes’ as Octavio strokes the vampire’s cock a few times. The head flushed red and the thickness of it resting on his abdomen and drooling pre-cum.
Thankfully, Octavio has enough sense in him. Laughing breathlessly before getting his attention. “Hey- hey do you want a condom or-?”
Before he can even finish his question about mess, Crypto violently shakes his head. Lifting his hips up eagerly and reaching for him. “No- no cum inside me- please. I want to feel you- please, please-” He’s choking on whines by the time Octavio sucks in a shaky breath, feverishly nodding in reply.
Gentle fingers brush at his hips, stroking over until they can hitch under his thighs. Pulling Crypto nice and close as one of Octavio’s hands push on his own cock to line himself up.
As he pushes in, it’s easier with the stretching and lube on his own cock. They both groan in reply as Crypto sinks down eagerly, the intimacy of the position always wanted. Strong legs hitching around Octavio’s small waist to drag him closer so he can wrap his arms around his neck.
Fucking with Octavio was always a ride. He always wanted it fast, lest Crypto say he wanted it slow or took control himself. He got too excited, humping into Crypto like a dog on his last breeding session. But, he always let Crypto adjust, even if he told him he liked the small ache he got after.
They both wait there, panting as Octavio rests an arm on one side of Crypto’s head. Lips parted to pant softly and Crypto can’t help but stare at the many beauty marks on Octavio’s face. One in particular just under his bottom lip that he felt compelled to kiss all the time.
Their breath mingles as Octavio lingers close, until Crypto can’t take it anymore and pushes his fingers into his hair. Drawing him close until he can consume the speed demon with a hot kiss. Moaning into his mouth as his own tongue licking into Octavio’s mouth.
That does the trick. Hips begin moving into him until the slide and tug becomes more of a pleasurable humping. Bodies mashed together with Octavio’s biceps quivering as he holds himself up. Fucking into Crypto harder and harder until he has to pull back for air. Head falling into Crypto’s shoulder and nestling him right against Octavio’s neck.
It’s a trap, Crypto knows this the second he places his lips in hot kisses over Octavio’s racing pulse. He’s about cross eyed from his scent so close, hearing and feeling his pulse pounding as his hips jerk up. Whimpering into Octavio’s neck and getting a hissed reply back of. “Yeah- like that?”
“Mhmm-” Is hummed from Crypto, dizzy and hypnotized as he noses at Octavio’s neck. Much like a venomous snake lining up their bite. He knows Octavio can feel him. Feeling how Octavio tilts his head eeever so slightly and his breath quickens. Hips coming to a slower pace than the headboard rocking one so Crypto can line up the perfect bite.
It happens at the same time Octavio rolls his hips deeply into him. Rocking Crypto’s frame as his piercings slide clearly over the little spot in him that makes him bite in Octavio’s flesh. A long moan exhaling from his throat, muffled by the bite in his mouth.
Warm blood immediately pools into his mouth after he parts briefly to begin sucking and licking at the wound eagerly. Hips coming up desperately to rock against Octavio’s frame that has now sped back up. Dully, Crypto can hear Octavio encouraging him. Fingers sliding into Crypto’s hair and cradling him close as weight is rested on top of him more to really fuck into him.
Both men are whining their approval to one another until Crypto parts from the bite. Lips stained rosy and some dribbling down his chin as he buries his face into Octavio’s neck with sobbed out, “Thank you- thank you- fuck-” Babbling from his lips.
Octavio can’t take it. The squeezing around his cock, the nails raking down his back, the cute man babbling into his throat like he just offered him a taste of heaven. It’s all too much.
He cums with a cry, shooting into Crypto who greedily clutches at him with his thighs to keep him inside. Huffing out whines and nuzzling at Crypto’s cheek in reply with breathed out, “Please- baby, please- too much- ah, mi amor-”
Crypto gets off on his whining. How despite cumming Octavio is still hard, squirming and thrusting his hips to milk out the last of his orgasm. Crypto isn’t too far behind, nipping at Octavio’s ear and begging him to hold on just a bit longer, just a little. “Shh, keep- ah- going. Almost there, come on, yes yes yes-”
He’s a babbling mess of encouragements as he rocks himself onto Octavio’s cock. Cumming onto his and Octavio’s abdomens with a snarl and his eyes flashing dangerously red as Octavio whimpers. Cumming too soon again in a dry, jerking orgasm.
From there, it’s both of them panting. Octavio lying on top of him, still inside and letting Crypto nuzzle at his neck. Clawed hands brushing through his fluffed up mohawk and scritching at his nape just how he likes. Colder lips kissing over the wound that has just as easily scabbed over.
It’s nice. Slow and soft. Easy.
Crypto should have expected it after a nice moment when he hears Octavio snore softly into his ear.
All he can do is snort, rolling his eyes and letting his boyfriend rest atop him.
A winning well earned.
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reilly310 · 4 years
Text
The “eyes” have it
Did you know?
A study, conducted at the University of Glasgow in 2013, found that Eye Reflections in Photos Can Reliably Identify Who's Behind the Lens.
To test how effective a mirror the cornea was, researchers took passport-style photos of college students in a lab setting. Bystanders were placed a few feet away, facing the subjects, while the photos were being taken. When the researchers zoomed in on the subjects' eyes in the photos, they were able to see pixelated versions of the bystanders' faces.
  “...the scientists found that study participants could correctly identify most of those tiny faces. When the bystanders were strangers, participants could correctly match a pixelated photo with a higher-quality headshot 71 percent of the time. When the reflected faces were people the participants knew, the rate of successful identification jumped to 84 percent. “
In this study, the researchers used a high resolution camera (39 megapixels).  As a result, their reflections were clearer than what the average cellphone camera would produce under the same conditions (The 2016 IPhone 7, for example, has a resolution of 12 megapixels).  The study concluded, though, that, if the viewer knew the person reflected, they could identify them even when the picture was blurry.
“Previous psychological research has established that humans can identify faces from extremely poor quality images, when they are familiar with the faces concerned. For example, [the researchers] found that viewers could identify blurred photographs of familiar faces with equivalent image resolutions as low as 7×10 pixels.”
Identifiable Images of Bystanders Extracted from Corneal Reflections 
The researchers used a pixelated image of Barack Obama as their example. 
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For our fandom, the equivalent would be a pixelated image of this guy.
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Subjects in the study were reflected in a human’s eye.  If a human eye, with a cornea measuring approx 11.5 mm in diameter, can capture reflections, imagine what a cat’s cornea, measuring 16.5 mm in diameter, might reveal.
Maybe we don’t have to just imagine, though.....
Say a cat (we’ll call her Eddie) received a jaunty Christmas bell collar in December 2016 that she felt was beneath her dignity to wear.
She may have felt compelled to glare at the person (or people) responsible for said gift as they were taking her picture.
Let’s take a look and see if we can identify, with at least reasonable certainty, who she might have been plotting revenge against looking at.
Original picture posted by Cait on 12/25/2016
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The picture has been cropped and enlarged below with the most prominent reflection (person #1) on Eddie’s left eye, circled.
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Below, the image has been further cropped and enlarged, again with the reflection circled. Tilt your head just a bit to the left.  Do you see it yet?
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If not, no worries.  In the following gif, I’ve tinted the reflection with sepia and enhanced the image using contrast and lighting tools (from a free, online site..nothing fancy).  At the end of the gif, I’ve removed the background to show only the reflected face.
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Now that we have an enhanced face of person #1, is there a reflection of person #2?  Though it’s harder to see, I happen to think so.
Below I’ve gifed the progression of highlighting person #2.  I used the same photo enhancement tools as with person #1 (sepia tint, contrast and lighting) but also added color tints for the phone (white) and sleeves (red).  ( Note:  I can’t say for sure that she’s wearing a shirt with long sleeves, but I wanted to break up the monotony of the sepia tones, in part to make it easier for you to distinguish the hand that’s covering part of her face from her face itself.)
As the image emerges below, you will first see her arms/hands and phone and then her face/hair.
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Next, similar to what the University of Glasgow researchers did in their study, let’s compare the reflections to an actual picture of the likely subject. 
Person #1 appears to have a beard, or at least several days worth of facial hair, and he’s wearing glasses. (Though appearing dark-tinted in the reflection, these would be regular glasses.) His hair is light in color and looks longish on top with some curl there and over his ear.  His overall appearance seems casual/scruffy, like he’s a man on hiatus from work, hanging out at home “sort of personally” with his cat and...well...his Cait.
Here is the reflection side-by-side with a picture of scruffy Sam from a more recent hiatus.
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And here, I overlay the two images.
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Moving on to person #2, here’s a side-by-side of her reflection with a recent picture of Cait.  (I flipped the 2019 picture so that her head was tilted in the same direction as the one in the 2016 reflection.)   I didn’t overlay these images, but Cait being there is a pretty safe bet.  After all, she took/posted the picture.
Like Sam, Cait appears to be wearing glasses in the reflected image with one lens visible and the other blending in with her dark hair color. 
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In summary:
The picture of Eddie was taken in a less ideal setting, in terms of lighting, and with a lower resolution camera (likely an Iphone with 12 megapixels) than those taken in the University study.
Despite this, images of two faces can be seen reflected in Eddie’s eye.
As in the study, the “bystanders” (Sam and Cait in this case) were close to the “subject” of the photo (Eddie).  How can I deduce this?  Because pictures of the “pancake kitchen”,  where this picture was taken, were posted on a public realty site when the flat was for sale, so the layout of the kitchen is known.  ( *See “re-enactment” photo ...term used loosely here...below.)
Because I am very familiar with their faces, I am able to recognize that the images reflected in Eddie’s eye bear a strong resemblance to Sam and Cait and, therefore, conclude with reasonable certainty that it is them. 
Reflections aside, the cat collar always screamed “picked out by Sam” to me.
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* “Re-enactment” picture
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It probably won’t come as a surprise that the idea to do this “re-enactment” came to me in the early morning hours on a night I had insomnia.  I combined both the reflected faces and Cait’s reflected hands/arms with stick figure art, found online, for their bodies. The result is...well...not art .. but a cute, if a bit silly, rendition of the scene showing you approximately where SC would have been in relation to Eddie. 
It’s not perfectly accurate, of course.  In reality...
SC were likely sitting at Eddie’s level or at least crouched down to it.
Eddie was sitting on that location of the table but turned toward SC.
Based on the size of his reflection vs Cait’s, Sam’s face was probably a bit closer to Eddie than Cait’s was when the picture was snapped. 
Sam was probably not wearing a necktie and was (probably?) wearing pants. ☺ (Cait would so wear that dress, though.)
As an aside, even though there’s no proof of where Sam’s arms are from the reflection, I like that his stick figure arm just couldn’t help but go around Cait’s shoulder.  Art imitating life.
So there you have it.  Do you see what I see?  Don’t see it?  See it, but don’t want to believe it?  I respect all opinions, but this is meant to be something fun to speculate about (Remember fun?  I know it’s rare in our fandom these days.), so maybe give that a try or, if not, scroll on by. 
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thetriggeredhappy · 4 years
Note
Hi!! I love your work sm dude! QwQ Your Running Blind series is legitmately incredible! (It had me crying hadhs) I always get super excited whenever you talk about it or update it, Taking Shots is so creative and funny and sweet just AAGH I love it so much- It is probably my favourite fanfic in this entire fandom. If you are at all taking requests, I would like to ask if you could do an EngieSpy fic with Spy knowing exactly how to get Engie all flustered cus I think that would be cute -w- Ty!
ahgfdsj don’t mind that this took forever,,,, here’s some cheesy cheesy romance ft. a cheesy romantic
(no warnings)
-
Dell Conagher was a 45 year old man. He had more degrees than fingers (including the false ones) and a considerable amount of respect and acclaim in the wide majority of academic communities. And besides that, he made himself a formidable opponent in combat, taking no prisoners and becoming a tactical nightmare to deal with, able to push and direct in a way that others couldn’t do so effectively single-handedly.
So you’d think that there wasn’t much that would leave him flustered, but figures—there were people who could fluster bigshots like him just as much as there were people to fluster your average Joe. Maybe he should consider it a humbling experience, but he was plenty humble already.
What he hated was that it was so predictable of him, the things that made him blush. Nothing unusual—some of the other members of the team had initially assumed from his accent and general demeanor that surely he would balk and blush at more risqué jokes and shenanigans, but he could swear and chuckle just as much as the rest of them. And while he occasionally got fired up over things, he didn’t tend to get hot when he got angry so much as stern and then very much cold.
No, what got him to stammer and make a damn fool of himself was just the thing that not many people had the guts to do to him over the course of his life—goopy, sappy, extremely romantic displays.
Just his luck that he’d fall for a Frenchman.
Part of what got him so flustered—and therefore more frustrated with himself—was the fact that he was smart enough to figure out that it probably took an awful lot of work to do the things Spy did for him. He didn’t know of a good florist in a hundred mile radius of their base, and Spy had ranted about it enough that he’d also gathered there were no particularly good wineries around either. And you probably had to take a class to get as good as Spy at decoration and whatnot, surely, and cooking too. Setting a whole table and room and making a romantic dinner with wine older than his grandad with a whole bouquet as a centerpiece, well, it must’ve taken Spy all day, or, or maybe even weeks of planning and plotting and scheming—
And he tried to dissuade Spy from going to all that trouble, every time he pulled off some stunt like that. Shook his head and called him a sentimental old fool. But it never made Spy’s grin budge, maybe because Spy could tell the comment reflected right back onto the Engineer too. And he didn’t let up.
Instead he walked straight up to the Engineer and took his right hand, bending at the waist and lifting his hand to lay a brief but meaningful kiss on his knuckles, and already Dell was flushing, even before Spy got to the verbal part of his greeting. “Hello, mon cher Monsieur Conagher,” he said, smirking a little.
“I can’t feel that, you know,” he reminded, keeping his voice level and glancing between his gloved hand and Spy’s face.
“Oh? I’d disagree,” Spy purred, and guided him a half step forward before kissing each knuckle in turn one more time in succession. “I’d say you must be feeling something, at least.”
“What makes you say that?” he asked, brows furrowing just a touch.
“Why else would you be so red?” Spy teased, the slightest further uptick at the corner of his mouth, and the Engineer huffed, pulling back his hand and looking away.
“Hush, you,” he muttered, flustered, moreso as that just made Spy laugh.
“Mon cher, don’t tell me this makes you embarrassed,” Spy said, looking well amused by the idea.
“Well, you’re the one making a damn fool of the both of us, right where anyone on the team could see,” Dell pointed out.
Spy raised an eyebrow. “Is this your way of asking me to stop?” he asked.
“Well—yes! It is!” he said, even though a significant portion of him immediately protested.
“Understood,” Spy said, and the word was tailed by a little grin that told him he’d just gotten himself waist-deep in some new kind of trouble.
He waited for the kicker, when Spy did immediately stop with the showy displays of affection and admiration. The punchline ended up showing up relatively quickly in the form of a bouquet in a vase there on a workbench right in the middle of his workshop, unannounced and unprompted, without even a note. But he knew who it was from, even if he had no idea when Spy snuck past his security—or how long Spy had known how to sneak past his security.
And after that first gift, he found others cropping up in similar fashions for a while—most often flowers, and occasionally wine, chocolate, other luxury goods he’d never buy for himself but couldn’t help but be delighted by when he received them as a gift, especially from his lover. They appeared occasionally in his workshop, or sometimes beside the coffee maker (presumably because he tended to be the first one there, the first one awake in the morning). And the one thing he could count himself being lucky about was the fact that Spy didn’t seem to be there to catch how it made him blush, every single time.
He tried to bring it up, when he and Spy were together, and Spy perfectly feigned ignorance and misunderstanding, as well as confusion and amusement. He stopped bringing it up, knowing it wouldn’t get him anywhere.
And then one day, for reasons he didn’t understand, the gifts shifted. He still got roses and flowers, usually just in time to replace the previous bouquet in the vase that had made a home in his workshop (although moved somewhere they would be less of a fire hazard). But less often did he get the wine and chocolates and similar classic romantic fare. Instead he found, occasionally, that he would glance up from his work in the workshop at the clock on the wall, and he would realize he’d worked straight through dinner again, and he’d curse his iron-clad focus for a moment before his eyes fell to the counter below the clock to land on a plate containing a full and well-rounded meal, covered in plastic so as to protect it from sawdust or similar mess.
He found that, suddenly and for reasons he couldn’t immediately explain, he tended to have leftovers waiting, labeled with his name, in the fridge despite him not having put them there. He found the shirt he’d discarded as a lost cause after a bad tear washed and stitched cleanly and sitting on top of his pile of clean laundry. He found a spare set of new laces just when he started to wonder if the ones in his boots needed replacing, and his supply of water bottles he kept near his station to stave off dehydration mysteriously never getting any emptier.
And for some reason that flustered him all the more, because flowers and wine and kisses on the back of the hand were nice, were a lovely display to think of and accomplish. But to be thinking of him so often, to notice such tiny details and to keep on top of them and to fix them—without even saying anything, at that! To notice those things meant that Spy was thinking of him so much more than he expected, than he’d ever feel right expecting, was more than he could ever ask from any partner and it just...
He found himself bringing it up one day, chest filled to the bursting and needing somewhere for it to go. He and Spy were sitting together in the smoking room, and Spy had some album playing—worn enough by then that Dell could just barely understand it well enough to parse out that it wasn’t English. Whatever it was, it was low and soothing and non-distracting and filled the room just as much as the warmth of the fire and the lingering smell of exotic spices from some point in the past.
Stronger was the smell of Spy’s cologne, though, there sat next to him, warm against his shoulder. He couldn’t tell much about what it was that Spy was reading, just that it looked to be a play of some kind based on the spacing of phrases, and that it was in Russian. He was sure his own reading was probably significantly less interesting, just being the order form for the next month’s shipment of parts that he needed to parse through.
Easy to get distracted from, was a way he could refer to it. Easy to stop thinking about it and to instead think about the man leaning against him.
“Spy?” he asked softly.
“Hm?” Spy hummed, looking up from his book.
“Why do you keep doing things for me?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Spy smirked.
“I’m being serious,” Dell said, voice still quiet.
Spy’s expression didn’t so much fall as it did relax. “Are you?” he asked. “Isn’t it obvious?”
When Dell just frowned, Spy deigned to elaborate.
“I do these things because I care about you, mon cher,” he said simply. “To make you happy, because I want you to be happy, because I care about you and you deserve to be happy. If I’m not doing a good job, correct me so I can do better.”
“It’s not that,” he said quickly, and hesitated. “I just, I don’t understand—“
“—What, why I care? Why you deserve to be happy?” he asked outright, and maybe that was it. Maybe that really was all. And maybe it showed on his face. “Laborer, have you considered that your reluctance to accept my gifts and acts of appreciation are because you’re uncomfortable with the idea of someone holding you to such high value in such a real and tangible way?”
“I—I don’t—that’s—“ he stammered, face going red.
“That perhaps others caring about and valuing you has been either a distant dream or something you imagined to be a reality because you needed the morale to get through the day, and now your mind and emotions are significantly freed up and you don’t quite know what to do with yourself, which is something both new and intimidating for you, someone who always tries to be so in control of your own life?”
“Why the sudden psychoanalysis?” he managed, feeling more than a little bit tense.
“Because I have a feeling you intended for this conversation to be your asking me to not do things for you because you feel you don’t deserve them, and quite frankly I’m stubborn enough that you will never change my mind,” Spy said, and leaned in to kiss him, an ice pack on a sucker punch, startling and disorienting and...
And nice.
When Spy pulled back, he seemed to see the disorientation, and he smiled. “It’s alright that you don’t know what to do yet. It’s alright if you never know. I simply enjoy doing these things for you, as often as I can without treading on your toes or making you feel smothered.”
“You never do,” Dell assured with the part of his brain that was still functioning.
Spy kissed him on the cheek gently. “You are very sweet, Dell Conagher,” he said simply.
“Me? You’re the one who—“
“Shush,” Spy laughed, and gave him another peck. “Just accept that making you happy is what makes me happy, oui? Is that such a strange thing to ask?”
“It feels like it,” Dell admitted.
“Well, perhaps the millionth time I say it, it won’t,” Spy teased.
“You’ll say that a million times?” he asked, incredulous.
“I’ll say it as many times as you’ll tolerate. I’ll say it on the hour every day until you get entirely tired of me or die, whichever comes first—or perhaps at the exact same moment. I’ll learn every language on the planet and say it in each and every one until you can repeat it back to me fluently. Because, mon cher, I mean it, and when I mean something, there isn’t a soul on the planet who can stop me from making it absolutely clear that I mean it, not even the person I love most in the world and his ridiculous, skewed lack of ego. Do you understand?”
The Engineer kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, and yeah, he understood. He really did. And maybe Spy was right—maybe he would believe it someday. Maybe someone that stubborn was the only type of person who could convince him.
Time would tell.
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