#badass Lady Noire

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

"Was Selina cloned?" Was all Dick could think when he first met Lady Noire on the roof of the Gotham Museum of History. Little did he know that the truth would be even more incredible, and more aggravating than he ever could have imagined. He just did not know what to do with the woman in front of him, since she seemed to take such obvious delight in torturing him! Meanwhile, Marinette was having her own problems. After five years with the Ladybug Miraculous and five years with the Cat, Marinette's energies are finally balanced. Now she can start living a life of her own choosing. But with so many personas and identities, does she even know who she is anymore? Taglist @tails-and-scales @the-ghost-trader @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @the-dumber-scaramouche @yoonjae20 @robyalix @seraphichana @iglowinggemma28 @taewinterbear95 @heretopasstimebi @littleblue5mcdork @quotesandanime @komatsuna-yuki @attractivemyfoot @deathssilentapproach-blog @vel-vee @vixen-uchiha @lady-bee-fechin @qualityhistorygamingwinner @its-maemain @meira-3919 @raven-ette @doglover82 @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @laurcad123 @crazylittlemunchkin @iamablinkmarvelarmy

#dc x mlb #maribat #mlb x dc #fanfiction #marinette dupen chang #batfam #miraculous ladybug #batman #batfamily #badass marinette #lady noire #marinette x dick grayson #dick grayson #dickinette #nightwing #lila salt #lila is evil #class salt #since when did selina have a clone?

[miraculous-pyromaniac]

Not actually that impressive

#miraculous #badass duo au #miraculous fanfic #kwami swap #i might also be wrong #i think lady luck is ahead of me #also panthera noir is approaching fast #there are consequences for not updating for 4 months i guess

[a-flaming-idiot]

Miraculous Ladybug AU where, like in the deleted scene from the movie, Marinette only recently moved to Paris from China so she barely speaks any French. And all of Paris thinks Ladybug is this cold, calculating, silent badass cause she never speaks in interviews, leaving Chat Noir to do enough talking for both of them.

Until one day, Chat Noir is all like "My dear, dear, lady. We have been working together for so long, and I've come to believe we are close. But you never talk to me. You never respond to my jokes. You never consider my flirts. You never fill me in on your plans. Did I do something to upset you? Please, if so, let me atone. Let us be friends and partners, M'lady" And Ladybug just looks at him for a while before saying, in very broken French. "My... French... very bad..." and Chat Noir has to reconsider everything he thought he knew about Ladybug. Then they both realize they speak Mandarin Chinese and just start blabbering on and on to each other during fights and patrols.

Which then gives Adrien the idea to approach the weirdly quiet girl in his class to see if she maybe also doesn't know French. Blah blah, Adrien and Mari talk all the time and Marinette gets better at French cause of him.

#miraculous ladybug #Miraculous #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #ladynoir #Turns out she's not a silent badass #She's just a nervous kid who speaks another language

[liyawritesss]

ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Hobart “Hobie” Brown [Spider-Punk] x Black!Fem!College!Reader

Type: Drabble

Word Count: 1.4k

Synopsis: Hobie’s got a habit of letting himself into your dorm room. Thankfully, you’ve got your own suite, and tonight isn’t any different.

Warnings: cursing, very very horrible british accent & slang I apologize in advance/please teach me better, brief nudity (he’s taking a shower chill you horndogs), I perceive Hobie to be around 18-19.

A/N: Was listening to a 90’s playlist while writing this so yeah there’s a couple of 90’s songs references in here.

Song Suggestions: “comfortable” by H.E.R., “So Into You” by Tamia, “Brown Skin Lady” by Black Star, “I Wanna Be Down” by Brandy, “Be Happy” by Mary J. Blige

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @venusdraco @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @honeybleed @briology @pnkweb

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

Hobie can see the pretty lavender color seeping from your window about a block out from your dorm building. It’s the color you use to signify that your window is open for him to come through, and he has to admit, in times like these, he’s glad that the both of you decided on the bright, pastel-like hue that shines from your LED strip lights.

To say the hero was tired as an understatement. His body was screaming for rest; has been for the past week. But one can’t rest in the face of oppression, and Hobie Brown never turned down any action that would cause unease and unrest for the elitist politicians of his society - and neither did Spider-Punk.

Said action was the reason why Hobie hadn’t gotten proper rest or taken care of himself like he knew you’d want him to in the past week. He normally didn’t care for the repercussions his actions would have on himself, always telling himself that it was a risk well worth since it brung him and his people closer and closer to the freedom they desired, no matter how small the steps were.

However, upon meeting you, and subsequently falling for you, and subsequently taking on the label as your partner, he’d come to understand that you just wouldn’t have any of that. Although begrudgingly at first, Hobie began to take your advice and constant nagging on taking care of himself better, but now it had gotten to the point where he simply couldn’t do those mundane tasks of self care without you. Even sleeping became hard without you, or at least, something that reminded him of your presence.

Hence why he was swinging from building to building to reach your dorm hall, because while Hobie wasn’t in the right mind to admit it to himself, he was in need of your love and care, and only you could ease him in the way he needed.

He hangs off the wall as he gazes into your single suite dorm, the muffled melody of Mary J. Blige’s “Be Happy” reverberating through his body. You’re doing a little dance in your desk chair, pretty hair wrapped up in a headscarf, the maroon hoodie you had on swamping your upper body. You had a writing utensil in hand, and with the books opened on your desk, it appeared like you were doing assignments for class. Hobie smiles to himself under his mask, wondering how he ended up with such a smart and intellectual person like yourself.

He has no problem raising up the window and slipping inside, his practiced movements quiet and agile as he pads across your hardwood floors. He pulls the mask from his head, freeing his face and wicks from the stretchy material, taking a deep breath. Your room smells like home, traces of lavender sage trailing in the air, and he can feel the headache that had been plaguing him for the longest finally begin to subside.

Hobie begins to search through your drawers, trying to find the stash of clothes you insisted on him keeping at your place since the first few times he’d crashed there. In the midst of doing so, he feels a pair of arms trail around his midsection, and not long after, your voice floats to his ears.

“I love how you never look in the bottom drawer,” you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, “y’know, where your clothes have always been.”

“Hello to you, too, pretty.”

Hobie allows himself to be shooed off to the shower, as you tell him you’ll worry about getting his clothes and some food together, He can’t resist the lopsided grin that spreads across his lips as he follows your orders. The hot water against his sore muscles and stinging scratches and other injuries feels like heaven, and when he emerges from the bathroom, he smells like it, too. The lavender body wash is his favorite out of your collection, and he chuckles when he sees you’ve got two tall bottles of it stored under your bathroom rink, almost anticipating that he’d use it anyway. He loves how well you know him.

Hobie dresses in the gray sweatpants you left out for him, opting to remain shirtless for the comfort of it. Definitely not to see your flustered face as you walk back in your room to him sitting on the edge of your bed, ready to be taken care of.

When you walk back in, the song on your speaker switches to the easy one-two step tempo of Brandy’s “I Wanna Be Down”, a container of food in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. “Tell me where the knicks are.” You say, setting the food down on your nightstand, and Hobie proceeds to show you the various scratches and bruises on his body that desire your gentle touch and attention.

They’re not so bad, which is surprising considering how wild and reckless Hobie usually is, so you figure some ointment and muscle cream for the soreness will help for the night. Calloused hands hold the container of food that you’ve so graciously warmed up for him, and as he eats, you encourage him to talk about his day.

“Bloody prick wouldn’t shut up,” he grunts after a few bites of food, and you assume the ‘prick’ he’s referring to is one of the members of the local government that, for lack of better words, did not have the support of the younger generation when it came to his reign in office, “wan’ed to knock his head off his shoulders so bad. King dick arsehole.”

You laugh at his choice of words, and it's the best sound he’s heard all week.

He’s done eating faster than what he anticipated and with the food in his system, his body begins to feel more heavy, the exhaustion beginning to seep deep into his bones and become visible on his face. Your heart swells at the sight, his lidded eyes and slight head-nodding to your music more than enough to tell you just how tired Hobie was. 

You take the empty container and place it on your dresser, taking Hobie’s head into your hand and pressing gentle kisses against his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, his lips. He all but relishes in the feeling, each peck of your lips leaving a burst of comfort in his wake, and it causes him to nearly melt in your hold. His large hands make their way up your biker shorts, riding up your thighs into the crevice of where your pelvis and thighs met, and under your hoodie to feel the warmth of your bare skin. You stand in between his legs here, though Hobie decides that this isn’t close enough, and reaches to the back of your thighs to pull you onto his lap.

It quickly becomes addicting, the feeling of your lips on his face and your skin under his hands. It’s not long until you’re laying on your back and Hobie is settled between your legs, his head tucked into the crevice of your neck, his upper body resting almost completely on top of your own. One large hand rests on the curve of your ass, the other is under your hoodie, resting on the side of your ribcage, thumb subtly swiping under the curve of your breast.

Your touch brings him just as much comfort as just the simple skin-to-skin contact he enacts on his own. One hand roams the surface of his back, tracing figures into the dark skin littered with even darker blemishes and scars. The other rests at the nape of his neck, holding him close as you continue your kissing assault on the punk-alt boy. Hobie sighs into your neck when he hears you begin to hum the tune of the new song playing. Even though you’re barely above a whisper, he hears you clearly and the wave of comfort that floods his form is indescribable.

It doesn’t take long before his breaths start to even out, and the weight of his body begins to sink into your own. Pressing one final kiss into the crown of his head as “Brown Skin Lady” begins to fade down into a low hum, thanks to you turning down the volume through your phone. With Hobie fast asleep, it leaves you no choice but to your own slumber. It’s not like you can go back to your homework, after all.

#black reader #black tumblr #black spiderman #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman beyond the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman btsv #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv x black!reader #spider punk #spiderpunk atsv #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk x black!reader

[miguel-ohara-wifey]

Coming out to the spiderverse men as Asexual Headcanons

💜🖤🤍

Rating: Fluff, angst, Hurt + comfort, suggestive

Tag list; @alliwriteistrash More spider noir for u

Peter B Parker

-Peter’s a New Yorker, he’s been around every and all kinds of queer people. So when you told him you were Asexual, he had a decent idea of what you meant. There was no explanation needed.

-It made sense, you liked making out with him and general physical touch. But if he slipped his hands under your clothes you’d flinch in terror and say no. You were always guilt ridden when you rejected him. But he didn’t mind waiting if it meant that much to you.

-But now what scared you made sense, it was a matter of not wanting it at all. You were terrified this would mark the end of your relationship. You describe your romantic past as every relationship having a clear expiration date. The minute you said you didn’t want sex, how sexual pleasure wasn’t something you could provide. The man would leave.

-And it didn’t necessarily make any of them bad people, they just wanted physical intimacy with emotional intimacy. Most of your exes were understanding, most. So it’s the endless domino effect of disappointment, followed by the agony of believing to be incomplete. That stopped with Peter as he hugs you in the midst of your bawling confession.

-Wiping away your tears and jokes how it’s stupid to think that would get rid of him. Sex isn’t what he was after with you two, it never will be. Sure he’ll miss it, but not even a fraction of missing you if this was to end. You were relieved, Peter will stay for as long as you’d have him.

“Come on honey, there’s nothing missing with you…in fact we’re all missing out on you being ace-“

Miguel O’Hara

-Miguel found out on the second date, when he would usually put the Rizz on the lady. However as you pushed his hands off your ass. You swallowed your fear, expecting an impending break up. After you told him you were asexual, and what asexual meant.

-He was eerily quiet, this was unusual. He was just thinking and listening with no emotion on his face. With the seriousness sprawled on his face when it came to spider people business and the fate of the multiverse. When you insisted he say something.

-He just nodded, saying okay, and going back to cuddling you on the couch as you were watching Netflix before his advances. Your nose wrinkled in shock. No anger? No disappointment? No confusion? No demands for sex anyway? Miguel just sat casually as you got up. Asking what he’s playing at.

-He answered simply it doesn’t matter to him, if that’s who you are he’s decided to respect that and back off. You almost felt like crying, but the shock dissipated and fell behind your face in place of the tears. He smiles to reassure you, what was the peak of emotional vulnerability, by tone what sounded like a shameful secret.

-To Miguel was nothing different than saying you love pineapple on pizza. Bizarre but not a big deal. After a few moments of awkward silence as that realization hit. You leapt onto his lap, kissing him silly as he reciprocated ten told.

“Of course bebita, alright now I wanna keep watching Derry Girls.”

Hobie Brown

-Hobie had gotten the memo you weren’t into the whole sex thing. It wasn’t a deal breaker for him, you and him would talk if there was an issue, no issue there’s nothing to discuss. A lot goes unsaid but that’s okay. You just get each other that well without words.

-However it didn’t prevent the misplaced guilt you possessed. You felt a cut in your chest that somehow you were deceiving him. In some world some people are owed a coming out.

-You decided to go along with it anyway, so you told him. And he laughed, patting your back. Declaring that’s metal as fuck. “Sex sells”, gender roles, the seduction of monogamy, none of that applies to you by default? Badass.

-Then he’d go back to his smoke, it was quite a Hobie reaction. He lives up to his chaotic appearance. And you by all honesty didn’t know if you were to be mad, impressed, relieved, or all at once. You never quite know with him, and you don’t suspect that’ll change.

-However a burst of tender warmth grew in your ribcage, you never thought of your identity that way. How so much of what makes society fucked you can see by your very genes. You were badass.

“OI! My girl never need no dick or pussy!”

Spider-Man Noir

-Noir needs an explanation on this one, he doesn’t quite understand not wanting sex. Or just never feeling the compulsion for sex. He does the work to be understanding even if the concepts foreign to him.

-He takes notes in what turns into a one on one lecture, he only asks what you’re comfortable with. And always ensures you still like kissing, hand holding, cuddling, activities like that. Hes extra nervous now than he would be usually in any romantic relationship.

-He knows your needs in this area are special, to him sex was never a buzz in his mind like it is for others. Sure he likes pretty women on beer bottles. But he doesn’t act entitled to sex and would never coerce you just because you’re his woman. Whenever shitheads would make comments or jokes, or say how you’re banging on the side and using him for his money.

-No hesitation he’d resculpt there face with his fist. Your relationship isn’t there business. And he certainly doesn’t have money anyone would wanna use him for. What you two have works, even if he doesn’t fully grasp everything. He tries everyday, and never pushes you past your limits.

-Since he literally goes around in a trench coat with a spider costume under it while monologuing to himself like a movie protagonist. You’re safe in the fact he’s not one to care what others think anyway.

“Darlin…you’re more precious than any broad I could take home…”

#miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #spiderverse #spiderverse hcs #hcs #headcanons #Spider-Man noir x reader #peter b parker x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman noir x reader #hobie brown x reader #Hobie brown #Spider-Man 2099 #spider punk #Peter B Parker

[theerurishipper]

After it was confirmed that Adrien fell in love with Marinette during the embarrassing statue scene I saw a post celebrating it. Which, okay. Good for the shippers who are still on the boat.

Unfortunately, the post went on to say that Marinette should have punched Adrien in the face for pranking him, and that he would most definitely fallen DEEPER in love with her for it. Because he loves strong women.

Please can we not romanticize domestic abuse? It wasn't cute when Lady Noire called Mister Bug stupid and hit him with her staff. He seemed really upset about that.

Sorry. I just don't like the double standards. If it was a guy physically assaulting a girl, he would be villified but because it's Marinette manhandling Adrien, it's absolved.

I have to agree with you anon. Adrien loves badass women who could probably kick his ass, yeah, but that doesn't mean he wants them to do it. He doesn't like when Lady Noire hits him on the head in Refleckdoll, like you said. Honestly, the show actually tried pulling this in Glaciator 2 by having Ladybug toss Chat Noir in a trashcan, and it seemingly tried to paint it as some girlboss™ moment, but I just came out of it thinking that it was kinda... gross and awful? Because you just know that if Chat Noir had done it, everyone would be salting on him something fierce, and honestly? They would be right. I really dislike the double standards in play there, that it's somehow okay for Marinette to be physical with Adrien. It does seem like downplaying and kinda romanticizing that kind of physical violence to me, especially in the context of Adrien already being a victim of abuse.

Idk, maybe I'm just sensitive or something, but jokes about physically beating your partner make me uncomfortable. I don't mind a good "loves a woman who can kick his ass" joke, but there's a line, you know? It's just weird to me. Maybe it's just me, though, idk.

Thank you for your ask!

#MLB #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Ladybug #Chat Noir #ML Salt #ML Fandom Salt #Marinette Salt #Ladybug Salt #Asks

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Huntlow Week Day 3: Prompt Nerds/Nature.

Willow liked Cosmic Frontier enough. At least that's what she'd told Hunter. She'd sat through all the movies and the TV series with Gus and Hunter.

She'd been happy enough to get him a bootleg version of the Cosmic Frontier Holiday Special that the creator had wanted buried forever as a gift for Bleeding Hearts Day.

But when it was announced that there would be a convention in the middle of Bonesborough that celebrated Human Realm pop-culture, Hunter was surprised when Willow suggested the two wear a "couple's costume."

"It shouldn't be a surprise, man!" Gus chuckled. "You two have been joined at the pinkies since that time at the Archives! You can go as O'Bailey and Willow can go as Hanako."

Hunter had considered it. But when it came right to it he wasn't sure it was right. After all, Willow liked Cosmic Frontier enough, but not as much as he did.

"Here's the thing." Hunter told Willow. "I wanna go with you! I wanna do the ... you know... couple's costume and stuff? B-but I know I like Cosmic Frontier more than you do?"

"Hmmmmmm. Astute as always, O'Bailey" Willow tapped Hunter's temple playfully. "So here we have a bit of a dilemma. We are both nerds. But what we need to find is that sweet spot where our nerdoms meet in that perfect intersection that the costume would work for both of us."

"Understood." Hunter nodded tersely. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. "Okay. I was thinking we could be Leia Organa and Han Solo..."

On the notebook, Hunter scratched out the words "Leia and Han."

"Oh! That's a good one." Willow cooed. "But one problem. Which one of us is Leia and which one is Han."

"That's a tough one." Hunter mused. "I mean, we're both badasses. And they're both badasses. And we could both rock those costumes."

"True." Willow nodded. "Our dual badassets transcend gender norms."

"But if we're gonna do a Star Wars costume, I kinda wana have a lightsaber, and Leia and Han don't use one in the Original Trilogy... and I don't wanna get into an argument with Jerbo about EU and Legends canon again, so maybe we should hold off on that." Hunter let out a grunt.

"Fair." Willow nodded. "We don't need you and Jerbo to go down that road again."

"We could do Chat Noir and ... you know..." Hunter offered.

"Even though she's not an actual Ladybug, I don't think I've got it in me." Willow bit her lip. "Sorry."

Hunter wrote down "Lady Bug and Chat Noir" and then promptly crossed it out.

"How about Rory Williams and Amy Pond?" Willow smiled. She extended a gentle finger to his nose and gave him a soft boop.

Hunter laughed, just a bit -- then his eyes grew real serious. Too serious. Silly serious. Running his fingers through his hair Hunter gave wink and something that Willow called "Duck Lips".

"You dork!" Willow snorted. "What are you doing!"

"I'm imagining the costume." Hunter raised his chin with confidence and gave double finger guns. "Yeah. I could totally rock a Roman Centurion look"

"Yeah you could." Willow giggled. She returned his wink and his finger guns, and flexed her bicep which made Hunter's smirk falter slightly. "But you know," Willow said hotly, "I'd be the one waiting for centuries to protect you."

With a moment Hunter's mask of confidence slipped. He felt his eyes grow soft. His ears heated up and he couldn't help but reach out to cup Willow's round face as if she was made of the very porcelain of a teacup. "I would protect you too." He murmured. "We could protect each other."

"Oooooohhhhhh." Willow gasped.

"Speechless, captain?" Hunter's smirk was back. "Because you know I would."

Willow released a breath. Fanning herself dramatically she took Hunter's arm and dropped a kiss right in the middle of his wrist. Right on that awful sigil -- and for a moment it almost felt as if his former life had dissolved under the soft brush of her lips.

"Who's speechless now?" Willow lilted.

In spite of the heat in his stomach, Hunter felt a bit of ice track down his spine. "Maaaaaaaybe we're not ready for those costumes just yet!" He laughed. "B-but we can put it on a list for a future con?"

Willow nodded slowly. "Sound's perfect." She agreed.

"So, we know what we're not gonna do." Hunter mused, "But we still need a costume. We all know Luz and Amity are -"

"Gonna be Azura and Hecate." Willow agreed.

"Classic." Hunter nodded. "But what's classic us?"

They looked at their hands. Fingers intertwined like lace. Like a tiny flame between them. And then? A small smile played upon Hunter's lips.

"Do you trust me?" He asked gently.

"Pfft. Yeah." Willow nodded. "With my everything, guy!"

_____________________

Willow slipped into the long sea green dress. The sleeves were perfectly puffed at the top. Her neck fastened with smart buttons. Her boots tapped on the ground as she slipped out from behind the changing screen. Placing the round woven hat with a red ribbon on her head she strode out to meet her match.

And Hunter? He looked nothing less than pure magic. Leaning against Willow's dresser in long black slacks, a white gauze shirt and a pink and blue checkered cloak with a red lining. He wore a concealment stone on a rope on his neck that made his hair appear just a bit longer.

And when he rose to meet his witch? Hunter greeted her appropriately. He said, "There you are, sweetheart, sorry I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you."

#toh fanfic #the owl house #hunter noceda #willow park #huntlow #willow x hunter #a03 fanfic #toh hunter #huntlow week #huntlow week 2023 #the owl house hunter #hunter x willow #willow toh

[silviakundera]

a very official and unserious ranking of chinese mini-dramas I've watched. Mini-drama = 5-15 min episodes. Color coded "sets" that had same actor or writer.

1. Night of Love with You (2022) - the unbeatable. the ULTIMATE. villain 4 villain romance with a protagonist who knows she is in a manga series... but something has gone wrong, because how did she and the heroic female lead get switched this time?!

2. Provoke (2023) - Republican era noir revenge saga. Unresolved sexual tension. Glamour. Great lighting. Hot people in period costume giving VIBES. She married her mortal enemy as a concubine and keeps a murderboard. I'm in love w her.

3. The Deliberations of Love (2023) - Married consort of a prince dies with him due to the struggle for the throne. Then she wakes up in the past, only for this ambitious idiot to get them killed again! Receiving yet another chance after 2 awful deaths, she's determined to choose life over love and not marry into the royal family again. But it's not quite so simple... especially when the prince starts to feel echoes of their past life together. The romantic chemistry is what sells this lil tropey drama. She keeps subconsciously drifting back into acting like his familiar spouse and then he starts vibing too.

4. A Familiar Stranger (2022) - Like with Provoke, I think everyone's seen this one? Conniving prime ministers daughter face-switches an innocent girl who is searching for her sister and pining away for this hot general who saved her once. Wow what luck, the horrible marriage the prime minister's daughter wanted to escape is with her dream man. This all sounds very wtf but this director x screenwriter combo creates these moody pieces that have a certain dream logic.

5. Zhang Gong Zhu Zai Shong (2022) - The emperor's sister is tyrannical and keeps a stable of hot men. Political intrigue ensues. ngl this one is real choppy but is ranked high due to my bias for achingly hot leading ladies who step on a breathless delicate ML. 🔥 She makes me SWEAT.

6. The Killer is Also Romantic (2022) - Mr and Mrs Smith in costume drama imperial era china. It should be higher, but for an English speaker it's dragged down the list by terrible subs.

7. My Decoy Bride (2023) - Hidden identities, assassin marries her target in imperial era china. Same male actor as Deliberations of Love who builds good energy with his costars. But less budget, worse subs, choppy editing. Still fun. Probably ranked way too high but idc I was entertained.

8. Dong Lan Xue (2023) - 3 min episodes of broken Murder Couple ❤. The slighted 7th prince and his ex-prostitute maid who are out for blood & revenge. (It's that badass lady & her delicate suitor again. Love this webisode pair. love herrrrrrrrr)

9. Miss Mystery (2023) - Republican era revenge drama in a similar vein as Provoke but lacking it's elite lighting, sets, & cinematography. To her it's Fake Marriage but he agrees because he liiiiikes her. The couple has chemistry, gives good power-couple, and the FL is out for bloody revenge. It's a fun ride. But the writing isn't as strong as Provoke and the uneven acting of the supporting cast drags it down the list.

10. What's Wrong with My Princess (2023) - The standard reborn revenge tale played straight. Female general helped a prince fight for the throne, then he & her sister have her murdered when vulnerable and pregnant. Gasp! She wakes up years earlier on her wedding day to this other prince she'd married once, only to kill for her evil lover boy. Now she plots the downfall of lover boy & her sis, joining hands with the husband she betrayed the 1st time around. It's... exactly what it sounds like lol. Nothing stands out and the script is a string of tropes. But it delivers exactly what it promises.

11. Everlasting Bride (2023) - Republican era revenge with added spy games. Like Miss Mystery & Provoke, strong character intros & first meeting. They're mysterious and well-dressed and dangerous to know. More polished than Miss Mystery. The leads here are more filtered and more conventionally attractive. But I have to admit that there's a charm about how rough around the edges Miss Mystery is. And I like the lead actress in Miss Mystery a lot more. The first 3rd is pretty fire, then it lost steam for me.

12. Forever Love (2023) - It's that smoldering guy from Maid's Revenge (absent from this list because due to crap ending). Absolutely extra in every way, a tropey hormonal mess, to the point one can argue it circles back around to be ART. Female protagonists for 1-10 are all great & fun. Alas I can't say the same for #12. 💀

Haven't Finished:

Butterfly Lover (2023) - I have a serious hate for open-endings and I heard this has one, so I paused on it. It's from that amazing director&screenwriter combo, though (Provoke, Familiar Stranger, Killer is also Romantic...). So I know it's worth watching.

Romantic aka Love Strikes Back (2023) - I started this but stalled out. idk it wasn't compulsively watchable for me. Other people loved it.

#cdrama #im sincerely intrigued about where c-ent goes with mini-dramas in 2024 #diving head first into gratuitous tropes

[hannahhook7744]

de Vil family Headcanons revised:

Trigger warnings: Child abuse, child neglect, mentions of dementia, mental health issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms, death, and animal abuse.

🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩

There is an 11 year age difference between Hunter and Carlos, a 5 year one between Carlos and Ivy, and a 4 year one between him and Diego.

Hunter, Ivy, and Carlos are tech geeks in my universe and can't do anything musical to save their lives.

Diego, on the other hand, is the only musically inclined one who cannot do anything tech related to save his life.

Hunter and Ivy were born pre-isle but died trying to stop one of Cruella's plots when she found out and pursued them. Causing them to crash.

Because of their childhood Villainous activities they were resurrected and sent to the isle the year Carlos was born.

Both Antia and Roger have met Hunter and Ivy but only Ivy has met their niece, Amber.

Funnily enough, all of the de Vil cousins have four things in common—their love for animals, their tempers, their competitive nature, and their very strong passion for fashion.

They have a lot of pets that they have to play 'Keep away from Cruella' with.

Including a chicken on Hunter and Ivy's part, which is funny because their ancestor— Dimsdale—despises chickens.

They are descended from both Melione (Hades' daughter) and the Villainous princess Ivy from Sofia the first.

Hunter's full name is Hunter Claudias de Vil.

Ivy's full name is Ivana Mallory de Vil.

Diego's full name is Diego Ethan de Vil.

Carlos's full name is Carlos Oscar de Vil.

Carlos is the son of Cruella de Vil and James Charming.

Diego is the son of Cecil de Vil and an unknown woman.

Ivy is the daughter of Carmen Sandiego and Cotton de Vil.

Hunter is the son  of Helga Sinclair and Charles de Vil, making him the older half brother of Harry Badun.

Carlos's dad either got taken forcibly back to Auradon or was killed by Cruella. No one is quite sure which.

Diego's mother left him on the doorstep.

Ivy's father was a pyro noir like detective and the youngest of his many siblings, which made her a favorite of the family. Her father died in a freak fire related accident when she was 3. Carmen had no idea where she went after Ivy's father died.

Hunter's father was an artist turned Archery teacher who went by 'Archer' and died in a freak archery accident.

Hunter de Vil is dating a grown up Jim Jr (from Lady and the Tramp) and Jane's cousin, Elisa/Eliza.

Diego is dating Derek, Doug's older brother.

Carlos is dating Jane.

And Ivy is dating Gordon, son of Grumpy— and yes, they are aware of the irony.

Together (meaning them, their partners, their cousin P.H, and Cruella) they have 18 pets. Including 2 chickens, 1 ferret, 1 dove, 1 lab rat, 4 cats,  and 10 dogs (most of which are Cruella's).

Hunter is still an influencer (he was one when he was a teenager) and is also an inventor who works at the local tech repair shop and a part time mechanic.

All of the de Vil kids love chocolates but different kids.

Hunter practically lives off of coffee and energy drinks and kinder joy eggs.

Hunter is also a YouTuber.

Ivy loves oatmeal with strawberries and blackberries.

She is an inventor, a fashion designer, a salon owner who makes her own cosmetics, and a beauty pageant veteran who always saw Amber dearly (The Radcliffe's niece)  as a rival. This was one-sided.

She takes after her mother alot— she's elusive, playful, badass, etc.

Kids used to call her Evilana. Which she hated.

Diego is the lead singer and guitarist of the Bad Apples and a member of Harriet Hook's crew and the Anti-heroes' club.

He is also a tattoo artist who loves coke (the soda) and fast food.

Carlos is a tourney and ROAR member who loves video games, tech stuff, animals, and inventing. He wants to be a veterinarian or app designer.

Hunter, Ivy, and Diego helped Carlos build his treehouse when they were younger.

They all love each other very much and are very protective of one another.

Unlike Carlos, the other de Vils are actually quite fond of the Badun cousins.

Ivy loves the color pink.

Their ancestor that everyone thinks is the literal devil was actually a somewhat normal human boy who was just unfortunate enough to have been born with hooves and a tail (likely due to them also being descended from Hades’ daughter Melione and sorceress like the original Ivana de Vil—aka Princess Ivy).

For some reason, Diego is Cruella's favorite. No one knows why or how.

This is entirely one-sided; Diego despises Cruella.

Yes, Hunter and Ivy were born pre-isle.

Yes, they committed their crimes.

BUT, they were also 12 and 6, and highly abused and neglected.

And they redeemed themselves and got killed in the process in my timeline saving the puppies from one of Cruella's schemes gone wrong.

But of course, Auardon brought them back a year after Carlos was born and sent them to the isle despite the Radcliffes' protest.

Hunter was 12 and Ivy was 6, and they both cried and pleaded for mercy. Beast and Belle ignored them.

They hate them because of this.

Like their parents before them, they're close.

Unlike their parents, they didn't have a falling out and would still die for one another.

Diego is the only non-tech savvy de Vil of this generation.

But that's fine with him because he's the only one who can play any instrument.

The other 3 can't play an instrument to save their lives.

Despite the fact that Diego is a part of Harriet's crew and that Harriet is in alliance with Uma, he and Carlos are still close.

Diego is the only non disabled, sickly, or mentally ill de Vil.

All of the de Vils are into fashion.

The de Vil cousins move out of Cruella's house after Carlos goes to Auradon. They had only stayed for Carlos.

The de Vil cousins have an unspoken agreement to always look out for each other, their pets, and the badun cousins.

The de Vil cousins communicate in Morse code sometimes. Other times they communicate in sign language.

They made up their own language to communicate in as kids. The Badun cousins  are the only ones who understand it.

All of the de Vil kids have pets and take care of Cruella's pets.

They all feel guilty about the fact that they couldn't protect each other or their pets. Or the Badun cousins.

Jace and Harry used to have siblings. The rest of the isle might have forgotten this but they hadn't. They never would.

None of the four de Vil cousins will ever turn down helping the Badun cousins. No matter what.

No one talks about the missing Badun girls and boys.

No one talks about how the Badun cousins don't live with them, Cruella, and their dads anymore.

After Harry Badun turned 7, learning medical care became a priority for all of the de Vil kids. Maybe it's guilt or maybe it's a sense of obligation. No one knows.

Diego is the only one of the group who sleeps.

He's known as the only 'normal' de Vil. He's the only one who doesn't have a nasty nickname.

He's the one who keeps everyone alive which makes up for his bouts of irresponsible stupidity.

Diego is also the only de Vil sibling who can write in cursive.

Hunter is the only blonde de Vil that the cousins can remember.

This earns a lot of jokes about him being adopted.

He is never amused by them.

Ivy looks the most like Cruella. Her hair is half and half like hers, and she hates it. Hair dye doesn't work.

She's tried. Her cousins had to beg her to stop because she would break out in horrible hives when she used it and they were afraid she'd die.

Carlos is allergic to Wool.

Hunter and Diego have no allergies.

Hunter is claustrophobic and afraid of the dark  and being alone and forgotten because of his time in the crate. His younger cousins know very few details about it.

Diego's hair is the opposite of Carlos's—his hair is mostly black with a few white streaks and specks, while Carlos's hair is mostly white with dark specks

Ivy is afraid of burning alive like her dad but also addicted to the flames.

Her and Hunter are scared of dying again.

Diego, Carlos, and The Badun cousins had to sleep in their beds a lot when they were younger to calm them because of the nightmares they had.

They still do.

The 3 oldest de Vil cousins were in pure shock and mourning for days after Carlos left for Auardon. They thought they'd never see him again.

Carlos, Hunter, and Ivy go to all of Diego's concerts and like all of his videos  and buy all his albums.

He does the same for them.

They're all scared of going nuts like their elders.

They were all scared of their other relatives when they got off the isle.

Hunter never forgives Ben's parents. Never.

He and Ivy both try to pretend that they don't want to kill them both.

Everyone but Diego has had depression. Diego has just always been optimistic (and a bit angry).

Ivy is named after their ancestor, Princess Ivy.

She resents this.

Divus de Vil, or Divus Crewel—as he is now known—is a professor at Night Raven College.

He teaches the school's science curriculum, including potionology.

He, like the rest of his family, feels strongly about fashion and refuses to compromise on what he wears.

He is Cruella and Crisitan de Vil's twin brother who somehow managed to stay out of any serious legal trouble. Unlike them.

When he was younger, Divus was nicknamed 'devious'  by his fellow peers. Right around the time they started to call his sister 'Cruella' instead of Ella.

He was the favorite of his mother—meaning he was the only one who ever got attention from her.

He has no pets.

He, Cristian,  and Cruella taught their 3 younger brothers (Cyrus, Cotton, and Cecil) how to work on cars when they were all kids.

Back before Cruella and P.H became cruel, all 7 of them were rather close-knit despite their age differences.

Divus's mother named him.  His name means "divine"/"godlike" or "god". It can aldo be considered a variant of "diva", referring to a narcissistic and self-important person.

Cyrus was a teen dad at 14.

Malevola and Cruella didn't hesitate at all to yell at and belittle him for this.

He ran away a couple of years later with his son, Charles, and became a farmer.

Cyrus was a natural blonde but dyed his hair black and white in an attempt to fit in with his family.

Charles inherited it as well. They both inherited this from Oscar "Count" de Vil.

22 years later, Charles met a woman named Helga Sinclair and Hunter de Vil was born.

Oscar and Dintia de Vil are the parents of Malevola de Vil and her brother, Malice.

Of course, those aren't their real names. Only the names those who didn't understand their odd family gave them.

Oscar and Dinita would never name them those names. They were actual loving parents, thank you very much (Unlike Malevola).

Malevola and Malice are actually named Mallory and Malachai.

Malachai's unflattering nickname doesn't really fit him at all.

He may be the mastermind but Malachai isn't really eVil at all. He's actually harmless and quite kind. Unlike his nasty sister.

Oscar de Vil was rumored to be a vampire and thusly nicknamed the 'Count' because he always wore a black, hooded cloak.

And no, he isn't actually a vampire. He's just severely allergic to sunlight and has to wear a hooded cloak while outside during the day.

It's actually kinda funny/sad considering the fact that his wife, Dinita, loves the sun and taking walks.

She stopped doing it as often when she began dating him so she could spend more time with him, so it's safe to say their love was true.

Both of them were loving, confident, lively people who saw the best in everyone and loved life.

Oscar was a businessman and a doctor who was quite charitable to those around him and Dintia was an architect.

Dintia actually was the one who designed Hell Hall and the other de Vil properties.

The two of them and their kids were loved in the small community they lived in for the first 10 years of Malachai's life.

And then Dintia slowly started to forget things.

It was small things at first, like Mallory's favorite color and Malachai's favorite snack.

And then it was big things, like her anniversary and birthdays.

It only continued to spiral from there until Oscar dragged her to the doctor during the day—causing him to break into hives mind you—and got her checked out to find out what was wrong.

Not long after, they found out she had early onset dementia and Dintia started to change.

Forgetting who Oscar and even her own kids were. Not recognizing her two birds, Stormy and Sunny. Not recognizing her own pictures.

Oscar began to distance himself from his kids, throwing himself into his work in hopes of finding a way to save his weakening wife.

Dintia kept finding ways to escape the house and could often be found wandering around town, confused.

Some less than lovely people started to call her dementia instead of her actual name.

She died four years later when Malachai was 14 and Mallory was 10. And it hit everyone hard. 

Oscar and Malachai both fell into a deep depression and due to the time period they were in, they received little to no help at all.

Oscar became a shut-in and rarely left his house, glaring at anyone who approached him on the rare occasions that he did.

Malachai became a shell of his former self. He stopped talking and smiling and goofing around as much, and daydreamed often of his mother never getting sick and his life never going to hell. Hardly able to accept reality.

He actually checked out for a bit—becoming emotionally detached from everyone around him—and didn't speak for years.

If his son, Philip Herbert aka P.H, hadn't been born, he would have never come out of it.

Unfortunately, while he and Oscar were emotionally dead to the world, Mallory started to change.

She became bitter and resentful and apathetic to everything that wasn't fashion. And her morals and what she saw as important slowly started to distort until she wasn't recognizable anymore.

And she was oh so hateful to anyone who wasn't her love, Dupree, who would go on to be her husband—earning her the alias Malevola.

Dupree was head over heels in love with her and blind to all her faults, which would come back to bite him later.

They'd go on to have 5 kids in this order; Cruella, Divus, Cyrus, Cecil, and Cotton.

Malevola/Mallory didn't even attempt to be a good mother. Ignoring them when she could get away with it and being out of town often.

She'd even snap at and belittle them from the moment they were born.

Cruella would go on to be a fashion designer as did Crisitan and you know the rest.

Cyrus became a teen dad and a farmer.

Cecil became a film director and willingly went to the isle for Cruella.

And Cotton became a detective and a pyro.

Cotton eventually met Carmen Sandiego, one thing led to another, and Ivana/Ivy de Vil was born.

Ivy is Malevola's favorite grandchild.

Malevola tried to make up for her parenting mistakes with Hunter and Ivy, and the other two kids, but failed.

Mainly because she played keep away with them and their mothers.

Oscar (Malevola) was a good grandfather who visited on occasion but couldn't undo the damage his daughter had done.

Dupree died before he could meet Hunter, Ivy, Diego, or Carlos.

He admitted openly on his death bed that he regretted not divorcing Malevola when their kids were young because, while he loved her, she wasn't a good person and screwed up their kids in ways that couldn't be fixed.

Most of the de Vils are mentally ill in one way or another.

Harry Badun is Hunter de Vil's younger half-brother.

Cotton died in a fiery accident he caused.

Cyrus died in a farming accident.

Charles died in a freak archery accident.

Oscar succumbed to his old age, a bitter, angry old man who the children of the Village feared.

Hunter and Ivy died in a car accident while trying to free the dalmatians from Cruella and got resurrected and sent to the isle.

Cecil died from not taking care of himself when he fell depressed upon realizing he had damned his son and that his niece and nephews would never be free of the isle.

Malachai got sick and died when P.H was very young, causing him to be taken in By Malevola and Dupree.

Due to the sudden loss of the only parental figure he had and the neglect and belittlement he suffered from Malevola, he went mad.

He was introduced to science by Divus and started to experiment on any animal he could get his hands on. It rarely ended well for the animals. But Malevola allowed it as long as her dogs and Malachai's snake weren't touched.

P.H ended up experimenting on his father's snake and it died.

Cruella helped him hide the evidence.

Malevola was devastated and never found her brother's snake, leading her to assume she lost it.

It was one of 4 times Cruella and her siblings ever saw her mother cry.

Malevola told Carlos once that he looked like her brother at his age. It was the only time she ever mentioned her brother before her death.

Anita knew all of Cruella's generation growing up. P.H always scared her.

Once when they were all little, Cruella convinced them all to try her favorite drink; ink.

They all got terribly ill from it and never did it again.

No one knows how Cruella can stand drinking that stuff.

Carlos lives a long, healthy life with his friends and Jane.

Divus was delighted to meet his niece and nephews. Along with all their partners and friends.

Horace and Jasper were friends with the de Vils and Radcliffes growing up.

🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩🐩

Requested by @kivamyths .

#descendants #disney descendants #melissa de la cruz #the de vil cousins #the de vil family #de vil family #disney descendants headcanons #my descendants headcanons #descendants headcanons #de vil headcanons #cruella de vil #carlos oscar de vil #diego de vil #hunter de vil #ivy de vil #etc

[eebie]

hey eebie, how did you like [S] Cascade? back when it went up, it crashed each website it was hosted on (newgrounds, mspa, and megaupload) because the sites couldn’t handle the traffic of all the people wanting to watch it

CASCADE WAS SO FUCKING CRAZY LET MEDESCREIBE IT:

IT WAS SOME POWERFUL SHIT !!!!! I was told it would be long butr it didnt feel like evena minute because there was always something crazy happening!!!!! bless mr the deuce :'( his jolly little jig at completing his mission was the last thing he ever did . bec noirs a FOOL!!!!!!!! he ORDERED 4 JADE to be killed and threw a tantrum when his. ORDERS were FOLLOWED!!! (:O !!!! It was sweet though he looked so mournful the sickly ill amount of love in his heart all dedicated 2 jade and to bringing her back to life😢😢must be rlly confusing 4 him . To be this crazy genocidal world killer n feel this attachment n affection 2wards some human girl who he would never realistically care about Anyways😢 . MR MAYOR FUCKING DIED. BTW. I WAS DEVASTTATED I WAS HIS BIGGEST FAN YOU KNOW AND THEY KILLED HIM!!!! he was literally just fumblinga round like an insect and living his life with his friends it was fucked up what they did. n then Mail lady went nuclear she became bec blanc Shes going 2 get up[ to some crazy shit. Or maybe she'll go live her life in peace 4ever... i think it's what she deserves :( OR GO LIVE WITH JADE!!! jade now has Two pooches. Blanc and noir never ever getting along like two dogs that hate each other She has to keep them separated or they'll kill each other. they fight and shes like Noooo. BAD! and they both get really quiet n have that Guilty dog look . there is strained peace between them then because they dont want 2 make her mad . im RAMBLING!!!!!!!!!! Back 2 cascade. Jade becomes fucking GOD!!!!!! SHE turns every1 into ants basically Wielding the planets like some kind of badass!!!! I adore her god mode design like the colors and her little dog ears n hood!! so GOOD!! everyone became Gods basically . so much shit happened goghghghhgrgghhg REALLY good art like REALLY REALLY GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! rest in peace 2 jade and dave they got fucked all the way up But they did it they made it happen . Saved the World And god the art is GOOD I understand why this flash was crashing shit it's awesome

#and egbert was doing his thing he was destroying shit everywhere ^_^ #craziest fucking flash ever this is my fav next 2 the Reunite with your loving wife and daughter #my asks #homestuck #imma go back and rewatch this again later 2 analyze #so much was happening!!!!!!! #its actually kind of a relief to chill with these new kids for a bit . need 2 cool down after that !!!!!!!!! #it was so awesome

[margarettelizha]

|| Character Master List ||

All active OC’s under the cut! I’d love opportunities for RP, asks, or messages!

Margarette “Maggie” Lizha

Also goes by Lady Margarette Theroux, but very rarely outside of Ishgard

Seeker Miqo’te from Ul’dah

Born in Summer ♋️ , 25 years old

Ul’dah socialite turned Ishgardian nobility (she’s still figuring it out)

Married to Lord Olivier Theroux ( @blueberryaesthetics ) | [Fractured Fabergé] in a Jane Austen style arranged marriage plot

Themes for RP: Ul’dah Social Circles | Merchant | Ishgardian Nobility | Kugane | Politics | Formal Functions | Cooking | Fashion | Slice of Life

Carrd (WIP)

Maggie is a non-combat, non-WOL character who makes a great foil for all the super cool badasses of Eorzea. I would love to write with new friends in Ishgard, old friends from Ul’dah, merchants she meets in her line of work, or strangers she meets in the city states!

Jack Deveny

At least, that’s his name right now

Highlander Hyur from ???

Born ????, ??? Years old?

“Not So” Private Detective

Unattached, and he hates to see a beautiful person drinking alone

Themes for RP: Detective Work | Informant | Casual Conversation | “I know a guy” | Noir

Carrd WIP

Combat character, non-WOL

Jack is a charming addition to any room, and will happily chat with just about everyone. I would love to write with contacts old and new, subjects of his investigations, clients hoping to hire him, or old war buddies (Which war? Good question.)

Remember Atrox

Hellsguard Roegadyn from Abalathia’s Spine

Born in the Summer ♋️ , 28 years old

Very legitimate sailor currently in between crews for reasons that are not at all her fault, clearly

Recently broken up and shattered about it

Themes for RP: Life in Limsa | Piracy | Treasure Hunting | Friendly Ear at the Bar | Travel | Theatre

Carrd WIP

Combat character, non-WOL

Remember is a gentle giant very likely to lose her concentration on the battlefield thinking about the pretty healer who patched her up the night before. I would love to write with rival pirates, lady loves old and new, fellow treasure hunters, fellow theatre lovers, and anyone else she might have met while traveling

#ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv oc

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

Time for the wedding!!

Taglist @tails-and-scales @the-ghost-trader @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @the-dumber-scaramouche @yoonjae20 @robyalix @seraphichana @iglowinggemma28 @taewinterbear95 @heretopasstimebi @littleblue5mcdork @quotesandanime @komatsuna-yuki @attractivemyfoot @deathssilentapproach-blog @vel-vee @vixen-uchiha @lady-bee-fechin @qualityhistorygamingwinner @its-maemain   @meira-3919 @raven-ette @doglover82 @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @laurcad123 @crazylittlemunchkin @iamablinkmarvelarmy 

#miraculous ladybug #batfam #fanfiction #batman #dc x mlb #maribat #mlb x dc #marinette dupen chang #batfamily #badass marinette #marinette x dick grayson #dick grayson #dickinette #nightwing #lady noire #class salt #lila salt #lila is evil #since when did selina have a clone? #sirens #selina x bruce

[fontasticcrablettes]

Tales of Sexylady Poll Results

The poll finished with 204 responses! Thank you everyone for participating. As last time, I reserved 5 spots for write-in votes. I'll post the final bracket in a bit, but for now, here is a summary of the results.

First, a shout-out to the lovely ladies who didn't quite make the cut. Everyone on the list got voted for at least once, so they are all appreciated by someone, but they just didn't have the numbers. Many of these characters suffered from the simple fact that their games are not readily accessible to the Western fanbase, so let's hope for translations and ports in the future so everyone can appreciate them!

In order, the honourable mentions (and number of votes) are:

Mary (30)

Mint (24)

Hilda (20)

Sodia (20)

Ines (19)

Rondoline (18)

Schwartz (17)

Ange (16)

Shizel (16)

Harold (13)

Atwight (11)

Ilene (11)

Nanaly (11)

Philia (10)

Mathias (8)

Elrane (7)

Symonne (6)

Almeidrea (6)

Peridot (4)

Lilith (4)

Agarte (3)

Incarose (3)

Beryl (3)

Fortuna (3)

Zilva (2)

Thitose (1)

Let's have a moment of silence for Thitose, the character who remained at 0 votes for the longest time, and only secured a single vote in the end.

The Winning Write-Ins

41 characters were submitted for consideration. The top 5 earned a slot in the final bracket. They are:

Mary Kaufman

Pronyma

Driselle Sharil

Nephry

And the 5th slot will go to Replica Nebilim, winner of the Nebilim-off hosted earlier today. Both Nebilims had an equal number of votes... probably. As discussed earlier, I counted "Nebilim (unspecified)" as the Replica version.

The next two most popular write-ins were Laplace from Luminaria, and Undine. I'm not sure which Undine, that is. Some voters specified the Symphonia version while others didn't specify. I think we will have to have a spirit tourney in the future to clear everything up.

In a similar situation are the spirits Luna and Celsius. Tied with them are Fourier from graces, Seres from Berseria, and Noir from Abyss.

Finally, the following characters all got 2 votes each: Aqua, the Baticul Lesbian, Jozette Cecille, Karla Outway, Kasque, Lisette, Mesissa, and Mileena. I hope Baticul Lesbian is happy being in a group with Cecille.

There isn't time to list every write-in who got only 1 vote, but here are some of my favourites:

Anna Irving. I respect a woman who is sexy purely on vibes.

"Captain Aqua from Tales of Hearts r is the sexiest Tales lady to me hands down I don't even know if she's 18+ because she doesn't even have a page on Aselia and she kinda looks like a Bratz doll but she's a badass pirate captain and her color scheme of purple and yellow looks so good istg." I respect you and I believe you, anon. I can't even find a picture of her when I google, so I'll have to take your word on it, but I'm sorry no one else shared your passion.

Morgrim. My good friend. This is a cat.

"Marble (ToS) (listen I know she's old but sexiness is in the heart)." You know what anon? Marble is a grandmother, which means she is a mother to someone who is also a mother, so that's like, MILF x 2. It's simple math.

Thanks for participating!

#tales of sexylady

[olderthannetfic]

You mentioned 'one of' your cardinal rule about full frontals in response to the GOT HotD ask. So, do you have more rules? What are the reasons behind them? And how do you figure something like female full frontal but no equivalent male full frontal out in advance?

--

I don't have a conscious set of rules for the most part. I guess I could sum it up by saying it's mainstream US culture + bad values + not my id.

GoT was popular enough that info like that was easy to acquire by osmosis. If I'm interested in a show, I'll watch it unspoiled, and if it has my dealbreakers, I'll be mad, but that's life.

I guess there's nothing that's an absolute dealbreaker in literally all cases. There could always be some other element that would overrule my usual refusal.

But in general, I don't watch anything that centers on women's highly gendered trauma, including "she got raped and now she's a badass" narratives, which I especially loathe. I find that that kind of media pushes this subtext that it's empowering because all women have been there. I find it alienating, depressing, and boring. Xena getting the snot beat out of her by her former underlings in an ungendered way and then wangsting about having been a bad, murderous warlord is fine. That's a typical reformed male villain backstory. It's the Lady Trauma™ backstories I hate.

Special shout out to Joss Whedon who shoves this crap in everything and whom I've hated since the 90s. Ughhhhhhhhh.

I don't watch things where characters should logically get an abortion and don't. Every character involved is either an idiot or an abusive sack of shit.

I generally drop shows that started out being about folklore and then turned jesus-y. (SPN, I'm looking at you.) I like my urban fantasy to be neopagan woo-filled or Asian.

I don't consume dystopian media where society is gone. That's boring. I want to see a complex social context for our leads. (Relatedly, I find "my whole family is dead" a total cop-out. Make them fucking deal with their in-laws or growing old with a partner. That takes real writing chops, you hacks!) I also find ultra gloom more comedic than relatable.

I don't consume "anyone can die" media because it always removes all of the interesting characters while there was still more story to tell with them. Also, it invariably coddles whiny fanboys and their boring fave will have plot armor while all of the better characters will be the first to go.

--

But really, I consume very little media, so it's not like I have to think about these "rules".

They mostly come up when annoying fans are pushing their media I obviously would not like and I have to consciously think about how I'm making that snap judgment.

I'll occasionally check something out because it has a lot of fic. I often check out slashy (but not gay) shows because of a slash vid. I read a lot of original m/m by fandom types and may consume other queer media if it sounds like it has the right vibe. I consume a lot of stuff for research (film noir, nonfiction books, documentary). Even Kingdom, which I now love, I consumed because I wanted to get a feel for Korean historical media for the purpose of writing AU fanfic (which I then never got around to writing).

I don't have time or brain space left for mainstream things unless they happen to catch my eye.

[liyawritesss]

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x!Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 11.8k

Synopsis: It’s your sister’s 25th birthday, and she invited you over for the extravagant birthday bash. However, there’s only one problem. Shuri has never met your family. She also isn’t aware of their past mistreatment of you. So when your parents begin to make jabs at you on what is supposed to be a joyous event, Shuri might have to apologize to your sister for what is to come next.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of verbal + physical abuse, mentions of severe anxiety, a very angry Shuri shuts shit down, shitty parents, dysfunctional family dynamics

A/N: So....this came about after watching a clip of Love & Hip Hop ATL, where in the clip one of the guys on the show was confronting his mother about the mistreatment and neglect he got as a kid and how his mother took all her frustrations out on him when he had nothing to do with what she was going through. That video touched exceptionally close to home so I wanted to writing for such an event but with Shuri, as I think for someone who is quite family oriented (or who appears to be), she would definitely have a few choice words to say to parents like that. Plus, I wanted to provide comfort to those going through similar situations as teenagers and young adults with their own parents. So I hope that this brings comfort to some of you, as it has done to me when writing it.

Song Suggestions: "Naked" & "Everything" by Ella Mai, "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin ft. Alessia Cara, "Let It Go" by James Bay, "Losin' Control" by Russ, "Control" by Zoe Wees, "You're Not Here" by Cynthia Erivo, "You Let Me Down" by Alessia Cara

Tags: @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @venusdraco @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @slytherin-34 @the_lesbian-fangirl @h34rtsformilli @strangefishflapturtle @cuddl3s4shur1 @shuriislut @dejaonline @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @inmyheadimobsessed @aaliyg @cafehyunji @chunkybabygorl @rosielovesfamily @lulu-network @nichole-224 @niyahwrites @lppriceisright @blacksapphhicmaddonna @pantherheart @marsfunzon22

Note: there are some of you that for some reason tumblr won't let me tag, so I apologize in advance.

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

The closer you were to pulling up to your sister’s home, the harder it was becoming for you to breathe.

It wasn’t like you were ignorant enough to believe you could escape this.  You’d always known, deep down inside, that one day, you’d have to face them again. Yet, here you were, tucked into the smooth tan leather of Shuri’s car, hiding the fact that you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, and your girlfriend to the left of you filled with positive anticipation to meet your family.

Your sister, Alex, was turning twenty-five today. It is a big celebration for your bloodline, and though much of the original purpose of the celebration had been lost due to oral passing, the general belief was that the lucky lady who’d survive to her twenty-fifth birthday was to be guaranteed a long, fulfilling life.

Of course your sister would have a long, fulfilling life. Alex was a woman of greatness. She’d worked hard in school, got into an amazing college, met a handsome guy who she’d married as soon as she landed her first official big-girl job at some law firm in your home city. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Alex was guaranteed for greatness.

Alex was…perfect.

You didn’t want to go. As much as you knew it would have hurt her to not have her sister at her side for her big day, Alex would’ve understood. You never liked the elaborate, extravagant lifestyle. You were a simple girl with simple pleasures, who led a simple life and wanted nothing more than to live simply.

Though, that seems contradictory, since about a year ago, you found yourself gaining the attention and affections of the very Queen of Wakanda. How you managed that feat, you would never know.

It was Shuri who had found the invitation. She was visiting you during an monthly check up at one of the outreach facilities posted in your town, when she had inevitably seen the pretty invitation sitting on your kitchen island. It was all written in cursive, no doubt the product of your sister’s perfect penmanship, and most of all, it was addressed to you and Shuri.

You’d only told Alex of your relationship after the six month mark. You wanted to be certain that such a relationship would last; though, now that you thought back on it, what good would it have done Shuri to play you? Her intentions and integrity were clear the first day she had introduced herself to you. She’d never given you any reason to not trust her, and yet, you had still doubted her. It was a period of time you regretted most, and yet, Shuri still loved you. And in realizing that she would continue to do so, even after seeing the ugly parts of you, you allowed yourself to truly love her back.

Shuri was ecstatic to go. She wanted to meet your sister in person, having only ever seen each other through video calls and communicated through text. And with Shuri’s pretty brown doe-eyes that had always been a weakness to you, you couldn’t say no.

And now, here you were, gripping the door handle tightly as you released tight breathes, wondering if it would have been beneficial to sit Shuri down and tell her the reason why your eyes showed a glimpse of dread when she’d picked up that invitation.

“Darling?” The Queen’s voice cuts through the cloudiness that fogs your brain, grounding you in a way only her honey-laced voice could do. “Are you alright?”

No, you want to say, turn the car around, take me home. I don’t want to go there-

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

Shuri looks at you quizzingly. You have not been acting as yourself since the day she’d stopped by your apartment. Since, she’d been trying to pinpoint the cause, but to no avail. Even after a year together, she still found you hard to read sometimes. It was endearing to her, a challenge she greatly accepted as part of the packaged deal that came with your relationship. 

However, she couldn’t deny that this time, things felt…different.

There’s a melodic beeping that comes from the vehicle, and the red flashing on the dash panel alerts Shuri that the car is running out of gas. And not a second later, a familiar voice speaks from the surround-sound speakers:

Panther, the vehicle is reaching low fuel. It would be wise to refuel soon. There is a petrol station approximately ten miles ahead. Fuel here is priced at four ninety-seven per gallon.

“Thank you, Griot,” Shuri hums, turning to you, “we shall stop there. Fill up on gas and get some snacks. You haven’t eaten much today, my love.”

Though you fix your lips to protest Shuri’s ever so keen observation, the way her hand slips over your thigh, her open palm meeting your skin through the large hole in your ripped jeans, it’s almost enough to have you relent. “I did eat; at breakfast.”

“Which was eight hours ago,” Shuri reminds you, “almost nine, once we arrive at your sisters. I’m sure there will still be room for the food if you just have one bag of chips to hold you over.”

You hate how well Shuri knows you. It makes it hard to hide things with her keen perception and observation skills. Though, you suppose those traits all come with the territory of being The Black Panther.

A sigh escapes your lips, and the lack of a reply worries Shuri. Yet, she does not push. Instead, her thumb continues to swipe in soothing strokes along the smooth skin of your thigh as she continues to drive to the designated gas station.

All of five minutes pass until it comes into view. When Shuri parks at one of the gas lanes, she fishes into her pocket for her wallet. From it she produces a black card, and hands it to you. “Fifty should bring it back up,” the Queen says, “and a bag of chips for you should do the same.”

“Shuri, I said I’m fine-”

“Darling.” Shuri’s tone is firm, yet gentle, and leaves no room for argument. So all you can do is press a kiss to her cheek - a practice routine of mundane intimacy that brings you both pleasure - before exiting the car and walking towards the entrance of the gas station.

Shuri sits back in her seat, a sigh pushing past her lips. She’s not quite sure what to make of your behavior.

In the year that the two of you have been dating, never once did you bring up the topic of your family. Shuri didn’t even know you had a sister until six months ago. Alex reminded her much of Nakia in some sense - powerful and self made, and in that regard, she was glad that you had some semblance of family you could reach out to.

Your parents, however, were another story. A story you had well avoided, and as of recently as a few months ago, downright refused to talk about. It became quite clear that it was a touchy subject for you, so Shuri didn’t pry. However, she could not deny that part of her grew…heated, at the unpleasant thoughts that plagued her mind when it came to the reason for the non-existent relationship between you and them.

“Griot.”

“Yes, Panther?”

“What were my beloved’s vitals during the ride?”

A beat passes, as Griot computes.

“(Y/N)’s heart rate had been jumping from one hundred forty-five to one hundred seventy beats per minute. Her grip on the door was strong enough to break a thin glass cup. It appears (Y/N) was on the verge of an anxiety attack, but had been fighting it off for the duration of your journey.”

Shuri curses under her breath, more or less to herself at the information that had been relayed to her. 

“She has been on edge all morning,” Shuri says aloud, “I did not ask, for fear of triggering her, but I cannot allow her to feel threatened.”

Shuri knows your triggers like the back of her hand. She’s learned to speak in a level tone to avoid startlement; she’s learned to make her presence known when entering your space; and most importantly, she reassures you, letting you know each and every day how much she loves you, how much she treasure your existence in her life, and how she vows to hold your heart with the utmost care in the world.

Shuri is the smartest person in the world, and yet, she cannot decipher the reason behind her lover’s heightened emotions. If it weren’t for the fact that she was focused on figuring out why you were like this, and how to calm you down, she’d surely find the thought embarrassing.

“Might I speak freely, Panther?”

A hum rumbles from Shuri’s throat as a sign for the artificial intelligence to continue.

“(Y/N)’s vitals have been heighted since one week ago,” Griot points out, “around the same time she had received the invitation to her sister’s birthday party. It would be safe to assume that these two instances have a correlation with one another.”

  “You are insinuating that Alex’s birthday party is somehow the cause of my love’s anxiety spiking?”

“Perhaps not the party, but rather, who will be there, Panther.”

Silence fills the car as Shuri takes in the information given to her. Though, she doesn’t have much to think on it, as she spots your figure exiting the sticker-covered glass door of the gas station, a black plastic bag in hand, of which she hopes holds the snacks she had requested of you to get for yourself. She exits the car and takes hold of the gas nozzle, opening up the tiny door and unscrewing the protection cap, and slots the nozzle into the car to fill with fuel.

A few moments pass before Shuri returns to the car, having placed the nozzle back in it’s place and secured the gas compartment. Her black card rests on the arm rest, which she slips back into her wallet as the corner of her eyes catches you with something in your hand - something that’s not a bag of chips.

“I thought I told you chips, darling?” Shuri asks as she starts up the car again.

“I got chips!” You respond. “I wanted a Twix, too.”

Your free hand fishes into the black plastic back to produce a bottle of water for Shuri, slotting it into the cup holder.

“What is this?” Shuri asks, gesturing to the water bottle.

“You were thirsty,” You point out.

Shuri indeed was thirsty. She can’t help the smile that paints her lips soon after, taking the water bottle into her hand, unscrewing the cap, and taking a swig of the water.

“Are you sure you’re alright, my love?” Shuri asks once more after setting the water back down, preparing to put the car into motion.

To busy chewing on the cookie-chocolate-caramel treat, you opt for nodding your head, a short ‘mhm’ to accompany it.

As much as Shuri wanted to question further, she knew nothing would come of it. So she slips her hand back onto your thigh, presses down on the gas, and rolls out of the gas station, the conversation with Griot filing back into her mind as she drives down the long strip of highway.

“My parents are gonna come.”

You’d said it the second Shuri had parked into the driveway of your sister’s home. With each second that passed on the way there, your chest kept growing tighter and tighter. You thought that maybe if you focused on Shuri’s touch on you, or her low singing voice when Tems starts to flood the car with her hypnotic, warm and swelling voice, that maybe you would be able to calm down and not worry her. It usually worked, but perhaps because this instance was due to the fact that you would be seeing your parents for the first time in years, what was usually the cure for your attacks did very little to help.

Shuri pauses as the words leave your lips, and for a moment, it looks as if she is cross. And while she has every right to be, you hope that it isn’t at you.

You should have told her before the two of you left, as you thought to do. It plagued your mind when you were in the shower, when you were fixing your hair, when you were choosing your outfit. And Shuri had been in the same apartment with you the entire time. You had ample enough time to tell her and yet…you didn’t. You couldn’t.

You know Shuri. She would try to remain calm and collected for you, to not show her anger, because of course she would be angry either way. The car ride would have been in silence, the air thickening with each mile crossed from one city to the other. But you would know that she was upset. She should be upset now because you just dropped this bomb on her and-

“Beloved,” the Queen mutters to you, bringing you from your thoughts once more, “look at me.”

Your head turns to face Shuri. She’s put the car into park, one arm leaning on the arm rest, the other reaching over to soothe your nerves by caressing your outer thigh. She looks at you with a softness that relieves some of the pressure on your chest stunting your breathing. Her gaze tells you that she is not cross with you.

“Hey,” she says, “I am not upset with you.” And the reassurance helps you unclench the fists your hands have balled into.

She doesn’t speak again until she’s certain that your breathing has evened out, as opposed to the harsh and forced inhale-exhale pattern from before. “Is there…anything I should know?”

You tear your eyes away, but Shuri’s gaze remains firm. Consistency is key, she’s learned, when it comes to you confiding in her. Her eyes are your safe space, you will return to them. And you do, after a short moment, trying to gather your mind together.

“They’re not nice people,” you confess, eyes hesitantly returning to hers, “they’ll try and woo you and shit, but don’t fall for it. They ain’t shit.”

“Okay,” Shuri hums, “and…is there anything I can do? For you?”

“Um,” a shaky breath racks through your throat, as you speak, “they’re not here now. Alex texted me that, so I should be fine, but when they get here…j-just, don’t leave me alone.”

“I will not leave you alone.” Shuri assures. Her hand gathers yours into hers, your palms rendered chilly from cold sweat. “I promise.”

Gathering your hands into hers, Shuri brings them to her lips and presses a kiss to them. She then reaches over to press a kiss to your lips, of which you reciprocate gladly.

“Thank you for talking to me about this,” the Queen commends, “and telling me how to best take care of you. I know it is not easy-”

“I hate it-” you correct, which brings a grin to Shuri’s lips and a chuckle from her throat, because yes, she knows you hate it.

“-but you are doing it, and I am very proud of you for it.”

It’s sincere, Shuri’s praise. It’s still not easy for you to digest it, but you know her love is not transactional, conditional. She means what she says, and you know her love for you is unconditional and unyielding. 

She loves you. 

She is proud of you.

The pressure on your chest becomes lighter.

Upon exiting the car, you’re approached by your sister, Alex, who had seen the two of you pull into the driveway and wanted to be the first person you’d engage with. You’re not shocked when you see her eyes glassy looking - it’s been years since you two last saw each other face to face.

Alex is hesitant when approaching you - she wants to envelop you in the most bone-crushing hug she can muster, because she misses you and it has been so long since she’d held her baby sister. Though all it takes is for you to outstretch your arms to her, and Alex embraces you in the way she had been dreaming of.

“Oh, mama,” Alex breathes as she pulls away to get a better look at you. You notice the youthfulness in her face and the life in her eyes. She looks happy, “look at you. All grown up. My baby sissy is all grown ‘nd shit.”

It’s heartfelt, her words, and they make you smile. Alex turns to look at Shuri, who’s chosen to stand to the side to witness the sisterly reunion without interrupting. “And you have a girlfriend? You have to tell me how this happened.”

“By complete accident,” you say, as Shuri steps up. Her hand presses into the small of your back, encouraging you while she holds the other out to greet Alex officially, “but I guess anything can happen when you spill coffee on someone in the middle of a morning rush.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Alex.” Shuri says.

Alex shakes Shuri’s hand, and the Queen notes the hesitance in the older sister's movements. “Well, it’s not every day you meet the queen of a country. Much less, a queen of a country that’s also my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Well, I hope not to bring too much excitement with my titles,” says Shuri, “I am more than alright with being just Shuri.”

She sincerely hoped that she could just remain Shuri. For if a situation arises that she would have to act in the manner of either of her titles - Queen or Black Panther - she could not promise that the birthday celebration would remain a splendor.

An hour passes before either of you know it. You’ve found entertainment amongst the younger cousins who all gawk at your girlfriend, who sits not too far away. Shuri has a cup of punch in hand as she watches you chase the children around the yard, a small smile on her lips. It’s as if you are reliving a part of your childhood you’ve missed, the way you seem so content with the children. It all but warms her heart.

“So,” Alex’s voice interrupts Shuri’s not so discreet admiration of her girlfriend, nearly making the Queen jump, “you and my sister?”

“Ah,” Shuri breathes, looking down into her cup as a rush of heat travels up her dark skin, “me and your sister.”

“I’m not gonna go into the whole interrogation thing, grilling you on if you’re treating her right,” Alex says, “I see how you look at her. If that ain’t the look of someone in love, then I’on know what is.”

Shuri chuckles at that, because she knows that Alex’s observations are true. In fact she has no idea just how correct her observation is.

Shuri leans forward in her seat, elbows propped up on her knees as she finds your figure amidst the mess of kids once again. Her necklace dangles from her neck, the gold contrasting against her black tee that nearly meets the fabric of her ripped blue jeans with her hunched over position.

“(Y/N) is…the ray of sunlight one sees after a long, dark night,” the Queen hums fondly, “and had I known my gods would send me such a woman, I would have prepared myself better.”

Alex smiles warmly. She can tell the strong connection between you and Shuri is pure and unadulterated. It warms her heart beyond comparison.

“Thank you for coming, truly,” Alex says, “I was almost worried she wouldn’t, since our parents would be here and everything.”

And at the mention of them, Shuri finds her jaw tightening just the slightest.

“Your parents?” Shuri is beginning to put two and two together, and she doesn’t like the outcome that is unfolding from her assumptions, however careful they are.

“I…assume she’s told you about them?” Alex implies.

Shuri shakes her head lightly, taking a sip of her semi-forgotten punch. “I find myself piecing the picture together on my own…She does not talk about them.”

“That isn’t a surprise,” Alex says, “given…well, everything.”

Shuri turns her head to look at Alex. Her eyes are firm, inquisitive; Alex’s words have sparked an interest in Shuri.

”She says they aren’t good people. Is that true?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Alex replies, “to the community, their saints. To us they’re just….people.”

Shuri notes the hint of solemness that laces Alex’s voice as she speaks. “They weren’t good to either of us…but they were especially bad to (Y/N).” Alex clarifies. “You know what they say; hurt people, hurt people.”

Not when the person is your child, Shuri thinks, but keeps to herself, taking another sip of her punch. Things are starting to make sense now, and Shuri finds that perhaps she will also have to have you at her side to ground her whenever your parents decide to show up.

“So you mean to tell me you got yourself stuck in a tree, and then got angry because she tried to help you get down?”

“I was not stuck! I was admiring the view.”

“Sure you were…with tears coming down your face.”

“I think this classifies as bullying-”

Shuri had grown quite comfortable as the next hour passed. More of your family had begun to show up, a number of aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and cousins wishing Alex a happy birthday as they passed through the foyer of her house and into the backyard. Shuri couldn’t count the amount of gasps she’d heard when their eyes fell upon her, sat comfortably in the outdoor gazebo, her presence obviously a surprise to the many relatives who had come to celebrate the special birthday girl. Much more, the fact that she had you close to her side as she greeted them.

The behavior of your family members irked her. Shuri suspected that Alex had talked to each of the adults to assure that they’d be on their best behavior for the occasion, given the tight smiles and curt greetings between each of them and you. Or perhaps it was because of her own intimidating presence next to you, and the fact that she wasn’t even trying to hide the look in her eyes as she analyzed each adult that seemed to pass through.

“Babe,” you cleared your throat, “stop looking like that, you’re scaring them.”

“Looking like what?”

“Like you’re contemplating murder.”

Would it have been so bad if she was, though?

Shuri sighs as she places the red solo cup she had been nursing for a while onto the table. “Just behave, for Alex-”

“I am behaving for you,” the queen clarifies, “and your sister would say the same.”

Unable to comment any further, you released an exhale through the nose, sinking back into Shuri’s side.

“It’s guilt, y’know.” You try to reason, but Shuri had already considered that route. Perhaps there were a few who did have a guilty conscience. Shuri didn’t find herself caring if that was true or not. “They’re not bad.”

“Beloved-”

“Shuri.”

“-I am merely observing,” she says, “I promise.”

Of course Shuri was only observing. Observing the behavior of each adult family member. How they acted towards you. How very little regard was given to you. How, with the amount of bodies that have accumulated in the backyard, the gazebo area remained relatively desolate, beside the two of you, Alex, and Alex’s black and white spotted cat, who had made a home on the red painted banister.

Sure. Shuri was just observing. Definitely not questioning anything at all. Definitely not formulating words she would say to your parents if they decided to make themselves an issue.

“I’m gonna go get a shot,” you say, before propping yourself up with your hands and lifting from the cushion of the outdoor couch, “you want a refill?”

You take Shuri’s cup before she officially gives you a response. You needed a way out, to move around so that the beating in your chest could quell.

Inside there isn’t much of a party scene - it's practically empty besides a teenage family member fighting their sleep on the couch while watching an infant in the living room. The music from outside is muffled when you enter the house, and you take the time to admire the mahogany walls and deep maroon floors of the home. You could compare it to the childhood home you’ve grown up in, and you think that perhaps this was Alex’s way of healing. Recreating your shared childhood environment in a more peaceful manner.

You find the kitchen quite easily, rounding the kitchen island in pursuit of the adult punch purposefully left inside so that the underaged family members wouldn’t get it confused with the family friendly punch that rested in a big glass bowl on the party table outside. On the counter is an array of liquor choices, from fruit flavored tequila to everyone's favorite, Hennessy. You weren’t a drinker, but this far into the party, you needed some sort of incentive to get you to relax a little bit.

Once you’ve chosen your choice of liquor, you take a red solo cup, pour what you deemed to be a shot's worth, and downed it in one gulp. The burn in your throat definitely woke your senses, of which you were grateful for.

On your way towards the kitchen doorway, Shuri’s refilled solo cup in hand, the sound of familiar voices drifted to your ears from the foyer, and it made you stop dead in your tracks. 

“Happy birthday baby!”

“Happy birthday, babygirl.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up-”

It took everything in you to not drop the cup in your hand at the sound of your parents making their presence known. You backed into the kitchen again, your back finding a nearby wall to ground yourself with. Your chest began to tighten, a tight lump forming in your throat, and in that moment, your hand fished for your phone in your back pocket to text Shuri.

Kitchen. Now.

There was a light shake in your hands. You hated how just the mere sound of their voices sent you into a spiral; how much of an influence they still had on you after trying so hard to separate yourself from them. Then they had the nerve  to act pleasant.

There was a growing ringing in your ears, accompanied with the muffling of surrounding noise that made you breathe harder as you tried to stabilize yourself from the very apparent anxiety attack that was waiting to crash into you. You couldn’t decipher if it was the same one from before that you had fended off by sheer will, or if this was a new, more powerful one. However, when the smell of patchouli made its way to your nose, the thought of it became seconded.

“Hey,” Shuri whispered, one hand running the length of your arm, the other taking the cup from your hand that was seconds away from meeting the floor, and settling it onto the kitchen island, “hey, I am right here.”

“They’re out there, Shuri.” You breathe out.

Something shifts in Shuri’s eyes, and you can’t quite tell what it was, but the way her grip on you tightens in the ever so slightest way lets you know she’s thinking something.

“We can leave, beloved,” Shuri begins, but you’re quick to cut her off with a shake of your head.

“No,” you say, swallowing thickly, “I can’t leave, it’s Alex’s birthday-”

“Alex will understand, love; would she really want you to risk your own self for her?”

I’ve done it for years, the little girl in you voices tiredly, what’s another evening of it?

Shuri never wants to be forceful with you. She knows you’re your own woman and can make your own decisions, even if they go against her better judgment, even if they hurt you. Which is why, against every logical bone in her body, she proposes a compromise.

“Three chances,” Shuri says, “three chances is all they have. Then we will leave. How does that sound?”

Knowing Shuri, she’ll want to throw hands at the first encounter. It was endearing, really, how hard she went for you. The extent of such craze was never explored, simply because she was always calm, cool and collected. There was a part of you that always wondered  the extent of it as well.

And, in hindsight, you weren’t wrong about her.

Shuri peaks from the kitchen doorway and into the foyer, seeing Alex still entertaining the two adults, their backs turned towards the Queen, which gave her the incentive to leave while the trio were occupied.

She mutters a quick ‘let’s go’ with a gentle smile, and after a few seconds, you nod. Your hand finds her, tightly interlocking your fingers as Shuri pulls you back to the backyard gazebo. Shuri had no idea the depths she was about to breach in the layers of your estranged family, but whatever the case may be, she will not let you face it alone.

It was almost the perfect getaway, too, but apparently Shuri wasn’t fast enough in getting you out of the house. She heard the matured voice of your mother call out to you, asking if it was her other daughter, and Shuri supposed that it wasn’t meant to be taken in a demeaning way, but the queen certainly did. Perhaps it was predisposed biases, perhaps it was intentional. Either way, Shuri would make sure to take as much of the burden off you as she could.

“Mom,” you say, jaws tight, but Shuri stands close behind you, a hand on your waist, and it stabilizes you, “good to see you.”

The older woman, short in stature, with wide hips and thick arms, saw Shuri standing behind you, but whether or not she didn’t address her because she didn’t recognize the queen or because she simply didn’t care couldn’t be deciphered. “Come give me a hug-!”

“I’m good,” you hurriedly said, “just- uh, not feeling well.”

“Don’t be like that,” the deep, bolstering voice of your father chimed in; a large man with an intimidating physique. Shuri was not phased, her arm only snaked it’s way around your waist, “give your mama a hug, lil’ girl-”

“I said I’m good.” You reiterate more firmly, though there was an added incentive to clear your throat shortly afterwards to make your fib more believable. “Really; I know how easy it is for y’all to get sick.”

There was a moment of pause - and exchange of glances and a shift in energy before a light ‘humph’ came from your mother’s throat. “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” she snooted, “and I suppose that’s why your friend there is the exception-?”

“Girlfriend, actually,” Shuri interrupts, though it wasn’t planned, and surely wasn’t expected, “it is one of many perks of being the Black Panther. I do not succumb to normal colds and illnesses as easily.”

The pads of Shuri’s fingers press into your side as she steps beside you; she’s now side to side with you, face your parents with a high chin and a look you were sure she’d only pulled out when in front of important people - or people who she suspected would try to intimidate her, yet she’d still have to play nice for publicity purposes.

“Allow me to introduce myself formally,” Shuri said, holding out her hand for your mother to take; the shorter woman did just so as Shuri spoke again, “I am Queen Shuri to my people, but for tonight's festivities, I would like to remain just Shuri.”

“A queen?” Your mother breathes out in an amused chuckle, though you couldn’t tell if it was in actual amusement or in disbelief. “Well, perhaps we did do something right with her, hm, honey?”

Strike one.

Shuri’s hand then reaches out to your father, who stares at the long, brown arm outstretched before him for a moment, before taking one of his thick, meaty hands, and shaking Shuri’s tinier one. Though, the look on his face when the queen’s grip strengthened around his hand was enough to tell you his surprise and lack of proper judgment on the brown-skinned woman.

“Got a…firm grip for a lil’ lady.” He says.

“Well,” Shuri begins as she slips her hand from your fathers, “my baba and big brother always said a firm hand makes a firm leader.”

“Well, wise men they were.”

There was much to observe in the few words shared between Shuri and your parents. Your father hid very well behind the facade of a pleasant man of few words. Perhaps he was sculpted that way, by your mother or by his own parents; either one didn’t matter, only that the end result was a man with a weaker grip than the elders she held council with, and they were pushing their latter years of nineties and hundreds. Your parents looked to be in their mid-forties.

Your mother…Shuri admits that she wished her own were still alive, for the words she knew Ramonda would have for this short-stack of a woman would be more lethal than any weapon produced by her own hands. Condescension laced in her voice with a familiar tone of jealousy that she’d heard and witnessed many black mothers having towards their own daughters. It wasn’t hard to tell, Shuri thought, but perhaps when enough people ignore such a dangerous thing, the ugly nature becomes a tolerable norm.

“Well, if you will excuse us,” says the queen, “I’m going to take my beloved to sit down. She is in much need of rest.”

Shuri did not give your parents time to react, nor to object to the sudden ending to the conversation. She’d quickly pivoted your body around and walked back outside to the gazebo, a firm hand on your back and a ticking clock in her head for when the next strike would come.

Sure enough, Shuri did not have to wait long for that second strike. 

After getting you back to the gazebo to take a seat, on the verge of hyperventilating from the amount of anxiety the back and forth gave you, despite the fact that you weren’t even the one talking, Alex had come with a look of disdain. Your parents were in tow, as they claimed to want to ‘have a sit down and reconnect’. Of course, Shuri didn’t buy into that bullshit. Neither did Alex. And surely, neither did you.

And yet, neither you nor Alex yet had the courage to send them off, and Shuri, keeping herself in check, had no other choice but to allow them to sit with the three of you. So now you were tucked into Shuri’s side, phone in hand as a distraction, while Alex sat on a beige-cushioned chair to your left, and your parents in a similar-fashioned loveseat to the queen’s right.

Alex was kind enough to hide her discomfort in nervous laughs and meek agreements as your mother and father raved on about your childhoods. Specifically, the accomplishments of Alex, which would have been understandable as it was her birthday, if it didn’t have to include the ‘disappointments’ of yours they had to bring into the light.

“Remember the speech competition your grammar school had, Lexi-Pooh,” your mother chimed, using the youthful nickname Alex very physically cringed over, “you won your first ever trophy then at eight years old! Oh, we were so proud of you-”

“Mom, everyone got a trophy,” Alex reminded, putting emphasis on the word ‘everyone’ as she spared a glance your way, “we were babies, and it was a participation trophy. They just didn’t want us to be left out.”

“Well, still, my baby had the best poem on that stage!”

“Mom, I literally stole that poem off the internet.” Alex reasons.

“Yeah, off DeviantArt no less,” you speak with a chuckle, remembering the nights your sister scoured the internet for a poem to read because she, for the life of her, couldn’t write her own. Which she couldn’t be faulted for, she was in third grade after all.

Alex shares a small laugh as well. “If anyone should have won that competition, it should’ve been (Y/N),” She says. “All the teachers swore up and down she was gonna be the next Lorraine Hansberry or Audre Lorde. I bet you she got some bars hidden somewhere.”

Your mother could only hum in response; “Well, we can’t all be winners, I guess.”

There was a familiar sting that ached your heart. Despite how used you were to such rhetoric coming from your mother, it didn’t make the twang in your heart any less hurtful.

“You never liked that kinda stuff anyway, (Y/N),” your mother says, “so why did you join it-”

“I do like writing,” you say sharply, “and I wanted to be like my sister. Who doesn’t wanna be like their older sister at seven years old?”

You glanced up from your phone to look between the three people sitting before you. Alex shifts in her seat, uncomfortably, slightly shaking her head as she knows what is to come.

“Or were you just so busy with your perfect princess that you ain’t have time to learn me?”

“(Y/N)!” Your mother scolds, and you feel the protective arm of Shuri’s curl around you in defense. “Hush your mouth with them lies, girl!”

Your father remains silent, as he’s always done when your mother gets this way, and Shuri sees this, and takes note of it.

“I swear, I don’t know where we went wrong with you,” your mother huffs, “lost yo’ damn manners and mind talkin’ like that.”

Your mother then turns to Shuri, sporting an apologetic look, though it is not sincere, and merely a coverup for her own outburst. “Now I know your mother taught you well and good, Shuri, about how to talk to people and behave-”

“My mother is dead.” 

There is an inevitable shift in the conversation now, one that brings the eyes to Shuri as a deafening silence befalls the gazebo. Even you rise from your curled position into Shuri’s side to eye her demeanor, checking over her form to note any changes that came with the sudden mention of her mother. Yet, she is calm and collected, her eyes showing no shifts and her demeanor intact. All seemed well…on the surface, at least.

“My mother is dead, may she be at peace with the ancestors,” Shuri says, “and she is incomparable. I do not wish to speak further of her.”

A beat passes. Your hand travels to Shuri’s leg, providing a comforting touch to the woman beside you. You weren’t ignorant to the news of her family’s passing - since her father’s death, you’d had a semblance of understanding the inner turmoil she had endured. With her brother and mother gone, she was virtually alone - save for a sister-like figure and a nephew she’d only told you a little bit about in the past few months or so.

You wanted to say something, but your mother beat you to it - this time, she actually sounded somewhat apologetic for her ignorance.

“My condolences,” the woman mutters softly, clearing her throat, “I only meant that she must have had it easy raising you. You’re so well put together and polite, if only some of that would rub off on (Y/N)!”

Strike two.

“Mom, stop it,” Alex interrupts, voice firm with a scowl on her face, “you doin’ a lil’ too much now.” 

“Now, your mama ain’t said nun’ wrong,” your father suddenly speaks, who had been quite the entire conversation, but suddenly decided to stick up for his woman who was clearly in the wrong, “it’s just ladies spat, y’all know how y’all do.”

“And like I said before y’all got here, I don’t want it in my house.” Alex emphasizes. “If that’s the type of time y’all on, the door is very clearly marked with an obnoxiously pink birthday banner. Period.”

There was a small swell of pride in your chest for Alex as she set her foot down to your parents. She was determined to have them behave; she wanted a classy, friendly party for her birthday celebration. Though, she would know just as well as you that even when being put in place, the audacity of your parent’s always found itself back into trouble.

Your mother mumbled out an apology, along with something along the lines of ‘got me apologizing to my child’ under her breath as well, before you cleared your throat in an attempt to cut through the tension.

“Shuri, baby,” you hummed, “don’t we have something for Alex? In the car?”

Shuri turned to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed, before she officially caught on to what you were insinuating.

“Yes,” the queen breathes out with a small smile, “we do have something in the car. For the birthday girl.”

Alex, too, shares the same look Shuri previously sported, with furrowed eyebrows and confusion written on her face. “M-Me? Something for me?”

“Of course!” Shuri answers. “Surely you did not think we would show up empty handed?”

Shuri’s hand rests on your leg, both as a reminder of her very physical presence as a grounding for herself, “How foolish of me to forget. I do not know what I would do without you, my darling.”

Shuri stands, offering her hand to you as well, adding on how she will need your help to retrieve it, before escorting you from the gazebo. While on your way to exit the yard, Shuri can hear Alex giving your parents a further scolding, which makes the queen smile mischievously.

It wasn’t a complete lie for escape, however. Shuri was nice enough to buy a gift for your sister for her birthday, though it wasn’t anything massive, and despite your constant jokes of it, wasn’t a pair of kimoyo earrings (though, from Alex’s birthday outfit, she could tell that she was a jewelry girl, and a pair of earrings probably would have sufficed better).

“I’m starting to understand why you never told me about your parents,” Shuri says in a breathless scoff, pressing a button on her beads to pop open the trunk of her car, “infuriating doesn’t even begin to describe them.”

“Are you okay?” You ask in all seriousness. “The..comment about your mom, I mean.”

How could you be worried of her feelings when she’d just had to watch your mother berate you in front of her? Shuri wonders this as she turns from the open trunk of the car to face you again. Though, she supposes that from that interaction, you were more used to centering others and their emotions than yourself. Although it caused an ache in her heart, the revelation made sense of previous actions between the two of you.

“What I said was true,” the queen replies, “though I admit, perhaps there was a bite in my tongue.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t curse her out.”

“Well…I do have a promise to keep to Alex.” Shuri says in a soft laugh. “I do not want to be the cause of her birthday being ruined. Your parents are making it fairly hard to do that, however.”

Shuri closes the trunk of the car, the tiny bag holding Alex’s gift inside being set on top of it as the queen leans against the sleek black vehicle. She invites you into her embrace, pulling you between her legs and resting her hands on your hips; yours make their way onto her shoulders, a weak smile on your face.

“That’s two strikes by my count.”

“I know.”

“We have yet to even make it to dinner.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to do, beloved?”

I don’t know anymore, you think, this is all just too much.

“Let’s…stay.”

Part of you was reluctant to leave due to wanting to experience your sister’s birthday with her. You’d all but promised that you’d come to enjoy yourself with Shuri, even if your parents made that hard. But there was also an inkling of pettiness inside of you that wanted to show the assholes your parents were to the rest of your family members (who, while had suspicions of their weird behaviors and holier-than-thou rhetoric, would rather not engage in family drama to keep peace amongst the ranks). 

“I’m not letting them get the better of me,” you add on, “today is for Alex. And if they wanna make it a problem, it can be a problem.”

The look on Shuri’s face was a mix of shock and pride; she hadn’t expected you to say that, and if she were being honest with herself, she was secretly anticipating such a moment to occur. Perhaps because it would give her a chance to release the pent up frustrations that had collected within her due to your parents actions; perhaps it was because seeing you stand your ground had always been an attractive sight to her. Regardless, the small smile that spread across her face was a reflection of her hopefulness.

“One more chance, then?”

“Hopefully they make it count.”

Shuri remembers how she used to dislike family dinners.

The prospect of eating with her family irked her at a young age. Though she loved her parents and her brother dearly, her teenage self was far too absorbed in her technological advances to actively partake in the family tradition. She’d taken such a routine for granted, and now, the dinner table in the large palace she called home was barren. She barely ate there anymore, consumed by the regret of not making such precious moments a priority in her youth.

As she sits next to you at the elongated party table with the rest of your family members, she notes the same air of barrenness, but not of presence of people. It is a barrenness of love.

The behavior of certain family members began to change as the night progressed. Despite the lingering glares of your family members, many aunts and uncles approached you again, expressing their joy in seeing your presence. Perhaps it was truly the guilt that you mentioned earlier, how these extended family members were subject to the bystander syndrome, and hadn’t known how to deal with their guilty consciences for whatever reason. Perhaps these people did genuinely want to reconnect with their long lost niece, cousin, auntie. Shuri would never admit it aloud to anyone, but seeing the look of distaste upon your parents face was entertaining to say the least.

“So do you drive a space ship everywhere you go?” One of your many nephews asked the queen out of curiosity, big brown eyes and white bucked-teeth shining with glee, as he’d never seen anyone of her status before.

“Not everywhere,” Shuri answers, “only the far away places.”

“Do you go to other planets? Like Mars? Or Pluto?”

“Hmm,” the queen thinks, “I don’t think I have. I shall put that on my books and tell you about it upon my return. How does that sound, little one?”

“Awesome!”

Seeing Shuri interact with the younger children eased your tense body and racing mind. She was almost a natural with them, it seemed. You leaned into her side, your cheek squishing against her shoulder with a playful huff. “Can I have my girlfriend back, please? You’ve been askin’ her questions since we got to the table.”

“Nu-uh!” Objects the little boy. “Have not!”

“Have too, lil’ boy,” you reject, “now gon’ eat so your mama don’t yell at you.”

“Can we talk about spaceships after dinner then, Auntie Shuri?”

Shuri wasn’t sure if she should adhere to the new term, having only known the child for an hour or so, but to entertain him, she allowed it. “Sure. We can talk about spaceships after dinner.”

Thankfully, the young boy seemed to be satisfied with the compromise, and began to eat his plate of food. Shuri turns to you with an amused grin, eyebrows raised as she asks “Were you jealous of your own nephew?”

“I can be jealous if I want to,” you pout, bottom lip tucked out in protest, “lil’ shit was taking you away from me.”

Shuri laughs at your banter, both glad that you’ve somewhat relaxed, and that the evening seemed to be going well. She hoped that it would stay like this.

The clinking of metal to glass caught her attention, as well as the other partygoers. Looking towards the head of the table, Alex is standing, grasping the attention of everyone in order to speak.

“Now, we all know the reason today is such an important day, aside from the fact that it’s my birthday,” Alex begins, glancing around the table, making eye contact with each individual, “though some of the kids might not know. And since we have a newcomer with us,” she says, gesturing to Shuri, who returns a nod of acknowledgement as she speaks, “I figured now is as good of a time to talk about why we celebrate the twenty-fifth birthday of the girls in our family.”

Alex sets the glass down, clears her throat, and speaks again. “Now the story has never been written down, but anyone who has sat between Nana and Great Nana’s legs to get their hair done will know the story by heart. A generation or so before them, our family had a ‘curse’ on us girls. One of our enslaved ancestors was forced to ‘engage’ with their owner who desired a mixed child. That ancestor cursed our bloodline so that no girls would survive, and slowly our numbers began to dwindle.”

You always loved to hear this story. You were never sure why, but it had always been more than hair braiding entertainment to keep a child's attention. The raw history that your grandmother and great-grandmother passed down your line of lineage always held a special place in your heart.

“Then one thing lead to another, a generation passes, and a girl is born…and she lives old enough to run away with another slave guy she fell in love with. And that ancestor had Great Nana, who had Nana, who had mom and the aunties…who had us.”

You’d been sitting to Alex’s right when she extended her hand to you to hold. You accepted it with a warm smile. She’d done the same to your mother as well.

“Reaching twenty-five is like a right of passage. Guarantees to a long, fulfilling life. And that is what we celebrate tonight.”

There were a series of claps, cheers, whoops and hollers that erupted from the table, coming from the queen herself as well. It was indeed a remarkable retelling, she thought, and she even noticed the way that Alex posed herself as a bridge between you and your mother. She applauded the woman for still trying to reconcile, but knew that there was no hope for such a feat.

As soon as Alex sat down, your mother took a stand. “I’d like to make a toast as well.”

Shuri felt you lean just a little bit closer to her. 

“My baby, oh, what can I even say?” Your mother begins, striking up a face of pride. “You were perfect since the day I first laid eyes on you. I knew you’d be destined for greatness, and I can’t be any more proud of you than I am now. My baby girl is all grown up, and I can’t wait to see more of the outstanding woman you’ve become…”

Another round of applause echoes throughout the backyard, and Shuri breathes. Though she doesn’t trust your mother one bit, the words that came from her mouth seemed very genuine-

“...and you are more than fit to carry on this tradition. My only daughter that can.”

-nevermind.

The distant crickets could be heard as your mother took her seat again, seemingly proud of her little stunt. Perhaps she thought it was something good to say, but neither you, Alex, or Shuri saw the need for the ending.

“That ending wasn’t needed, but thank you.” Alex says through gritted teeth, a sigh leaving her lips. It was much like the older woman to need the last word, and although Alex truly hoped she would behave, her own patience was waning thin with the woman and her antics.

“We have a toast as well!”

Shuri whips her head to you, brows furrowed in confusion as she whispers, “We do?”

The words leave your lips before you can actually think about what you’re about to do. Upstaging your mother had never been something you’d acted upon, although you’d fantasized about shutting her up numerous times with your own words; the courage was just never there. Perhaps it was because now you were older, or perhaps it was because you now knew that Alex was on your side, or perhaps it was because you had Shuri next to you to back you up. Whatever it was, it began surging through your veins that once were riddled and crippled with anxiety.

Nonetheless, you’re standing up, and so is Shuri, so there isn’t any backing down now. All eyes were on you.

“Sister,” you begin, reaching your hand out Alex who stands up again to be eye level with you, “I will make this quick, ‘cuz you know I hate sappy shit.”

Alex laughs a little. Her grip on your hands is comforting, and the way she looks at you is almost in a coaching matter. She hadn’t expected such a burst of confidence either, but wasn’t about to let you face it alone.

“We’ve had our…ups and down,” you say, “and there were ‘things’ happening that I blamed you for, that I pushed you away for. But you’ve always been there. You were..the only person there.”

You feel Shuri’s hand caress the small of your back for support. You feel like crying, and you're not sure the reason for it, but you push it down and continue.

“I am grateful for you, and I’m glad I came to celebrate with you…and I love you.”

The air that was once thick when you started to speak seemed to ease when you said those last three words. And again, claps and praises flew out into the air at the confession. Alex, the much more sappier of one of the two of you, tried to keep her eyes from swelling with tears, but of course it was harder for her to do so.

“Don’t you start crying,” you say playfully through the loudness of the table, “‘cus you know if you do, then I’ma start crying, and we just gon’ be two snotty nosed bitches-”

Yet you didn’t get the chance to finish, because Alex then pulls you into her embrace. It’s tight and full of love, and she gives you no choice but to sink into it. For a second, it seems like the noise drowns out as you bask in the love from your sister, and you hear a faint ‘thank you’ being whispered into your ear right as she pulls away.

“I suppose this means it is my turn,” Shuri says sheepishly, once the embrace has finished and you’ve returned right at her side. She’d been thinking of what to day this entire time, though each scenario that she had run through her head didn’t seem worthy of a quality toast to a quality woman, “I shall try to make this toast worthy of your time, Miss Birthday Girl.”

“Sitting at this table, surrounded by all of you; it reminds me of a similar family routine that I took for granted in my youth.” Shuri’s eyes gaze from person to person as she speaks. “You see, I was too absorbed in my technological advances to truly appreciate the aspects of family dinners. The mundaneness of sitting with one another and being present. I used to want to give anything to be left to my own devices. And now, I sit at the head of the same table, with no one. I am Queen of the most powerful nation in the world, and my entire family is gone.”

Another silence fills the table as everyone looks onto Shuri; her head is held high as she speaks, though, voice unwavering. She breathes when she feels your hand slip into hers.

“Alex, you are a very blessed woman to have your family here with you to celebrate a generational obstacle overcome,” the queen bids, “and for that, I propose a toast to you, and a saying from my people to yours.”

The queen picks up her red cup, and watches as each individual picks up their own, before speaking again. “To Alex, a woman of virtue and genuity. ‘Akukho mntu ngaphandle kwesidenge ophika usapho lwakhe’.”

A round of cheers sounds before everyone downs a gulp of their chosen drinks in unison, applauding Shuri for her heartfelt toast and gratitude. As the both of you sit, and light chatter begins to cover the table, your mother calls out to Shuri with a look of curiosity.

“Such a lovely quote, Shuri,” your mother says, “what does it mean?”

“Oh, the proverb,” Shuri says, “it is one my baba used to say.”

“Did he now?”

“It means ‘No one but a fool denies their family’.”

Hearing this, your gaze shifts from the food in front of you to Shuri, who sports a proud smirk as she watches your mother grow uncomfortable in her seat from the queen’s words. As if she were putting the dots together in her own head.

With Dinner done, your nephew was all too quick to pull the queen aside to continue their conversation about her fancy spaceships. While his eagerness was endearing, Shuri had to put the conversation on hold because of an important phone call that came through. You assumed that it was Ayo, a name you had heard in fleeting conversations, but knew it to be a person of importance to Shuri. A captain of her Queen’s Guard, which Shuri had respectfully asked to fall back on attending the outing with the both of you, since it was a family thing, and Shuri didn’t want Alex’s neighbors questioning why so many bald-headed women were lingering around her house.

She said she would make the call quick, five minutes at most, before stepping into the house for quiet and privacy. The loss of her presence made you slightly anxious, but you maintained your spot in the gazebo, and Alex popped in here and there. She was the host, so she had to engage with the rest of her partygoers, but you were more than grateful that she took the time out to still check in on you, despite it being her day.

You took a sip of your drink - the adult punch that had been put in the kitchen so kids couldn’t get to it - and watched the party goers enjoy themselves from the comfort of your seat. Children running around, chasing each other with sparklers; aunties and uncles dancing to the old school remix; teens making TikTok videos with dances and skits. For a moment, things were content, and everyone was happy. Normal.

For a moment, for the first time in a long time, you felt happy with your family. 

“You’ve found this corner real comfortable, I see.”

The voice of your mother slips through he peaceful silence that previously covered the gazebo, and although you don’t feel it at first, your body begins to tense. She herself sports a red solo cup, though you can’t tell what’s inside of it. 

She doesn’t ask to join you - just takes up a single seat across from you - and even if she were to ask, you aren’t sure if you could even mutter an answer.

“It’s been so long since you’ve left,” your mother says, “since you decided you were grown enough and left your family behind. How has life been for you?”

“Good.” You reply, short and curt, taking a sip from your drink.

“You seem more than good,” she continues, “I assume living with a queen gives you a lot of financial relief-”

“If you came over here to start shit, please don’t.” You quickly cut off. “One; my relationship is of no concern to you, but Shuri doesn’t pay for shit of mine that I have. I was good before I met her, and I’m still going good on my own.”

You weren’t sure where the sudden crossness came from, but you definitely knew it had something to do with your mother’s constant mention of Shuri, as if she held prominent importance tonight and not the other child she’d birthed. “And it’s Alex’s birthday. I’m here for her.”

Your mother scoffs at your words, “-and there you go, twistin’ my words around and making me seem like the enemy. I’m just trying to talk to you!”

“Bullshit,” you spit, rising from your seat in a quick bid to find a quick exit into an area more populated, and more importantly, away from her, “I’m not doing this with you.”

You turn to try and leave, but your mother continues to speak behind you, pushing you further, “you’re so ungrateful; after everything we’ve done for you, you can’t even show an ounce of respect to your own mother.”

In that moment your body froze on the steps of the gazebo. A dull chill awakens within you, spreading through your limbs, your skin nearly rising into goosebumps, before a wave of anger crashes in.

“Fine,” you mutter, “you wanna ‘talk’?”

You turn to face your mother once again, eyes burning holes into her face, which has the audacity to hold a look of shock. “Let’s fucking talk.”

“Oh, but where to begin?” You scoff. “Maybe lets talk about how you can’t seem to ever say one good thing about me. It’s always some backhanded comment that you can’t help to point out how amazing Alex was and how shitty I was in comparison-”

“-that is not true,” your mother tries to interject, “but you were - and still are - a difficult child-”

“-I wasn’t fucking difficult!” You shout, drawing a few pairs of eyes to you and your mother. “I wanted fucking attention that you weren’t giving me! And you thought beating me was the best way to get me to ‘stop acting out’?”

“It was discipline!”

“Oh, but Alex never needed it though, right?” You question. “Alex was just so perfect to yall. She got the best of everything while your little mistake became the punching bag you took your frustrations out on!”

The increasing shouting started to draw attention from the other partygoers, who muttered among themselves, wondering the reason for the altercation, questioning if they should intervene. And it only got worse when the sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the backyard, making the music that played from outdoor speakers seem quiet.

Your mother, the pious, religious, righteous woman she claimed to be, just slapped you in front of the rest of your family.

“What’s going on over here?” The voice of your father bellows as he approaches the gazebo, having only made his presence known after a few gasps from seeing your mother hit you.

“I will not be disrespected by you, you ungrateful wench,” your mother seethes, “I was a damn good mother to you, even when we fell on hard times. I raised you!”

“I was a fucking kid!” You yell back. “How does a fucking adult take their anger out on their own kid!?”

“And you,” comes your voice through gritted teeth upon seeing your father coming to console your mother, which seemed to anger you even more, “dear old dad, who never ‘picked a side’. You sat there and watched as she fucked up her own kid.”

Your voice comes out more strained, wavering at the sight of your father. The man you saw treat Alex like a literal princess while you could only ever dream of being treated as such. You knew the next words you’d say were going to push his buttons - perhaps part of you wanted a reaction from him that could show that maybe, somewhere inside of him, he cared when your mother didn’t.

“If anything you’re more of a bitch than her!”

You weren’t sure what scared you more in that moment; the loud grunt and your fathers arms menacingly reaching out towards you, or the flash of black that shot across your vision right before you closed your eyes shut, anticipating something to happen.

The silence was deafening as you felt your legs stumble back into something warm but you were too scared to open your eyes yet. Of all your senses that had been stricken with tension, the first to register with reality once again was your hearing.

“I want you to think carefully about your next actions,” the queen’s voice comes out hardened and unyielding, “because I can assure you, I will not have to think about mine.”

That flash of black that had crossed your vision earlier had been Shuri. And if your eyes had been open, you yourself would have shuddered at the pure rage that was present on her face.

Shuri’s hand, albeit tiny and delicate in most cases, held your father’s wrist in a right grasp, and despite the broader man's struggles to pull free, it was futile. She was not letting him go, and neither was the intensity of her stare that held your mother’s gaze. 

“If you don’t let my husband go-”

“Shut. Up.” And her words were absolute, leaving no room for question. Perhaps it was part of the authoritarian aura that she’d gained from taking on her queenship that shut your mother up, but whatever the case may have been, Shuri admits that she certainly enjoyed the look of surprise on your mother’s face.

“Alex,” Shuri says, and it now becomes clear to you that the thing you had back into was your very sister. It also became clear how tight her grip on you was, as if she were scared to let you go, “take my beloved back to my car. We will be leaving shortly.”

There’s a gentle nudge and a hushed ‘c’mon’ before you feel yourself being moved sideways, then forward, Alex doing as Shuri says and relocating you to the front of her home to get you into a safer, calmer place.

It isn’t until Shuri sees your figure disappear behind the wooden fence that she releases your father’s wrist. The man winces as he regains control of his limb, his wife bringing her hands to soothe the skin where it was beginning to turn purple from just how tight her grasp was.

Shuri turns in a slow circle, eyes scanning each and every one of the individuals who’d stood by and undoubtedly watched the scene unfold, offering no sign of intervention. “This is what your family is?” She calls out. “It is sickening.”

The guilt shines in their eyes but Shuri has none of it. To her, they are all just as guilty as your parents, for they've watched the same scene unfold many times before, and just the same, no one stood up.

The queen turns back to your parents, as she bites the inside of her cheek to control her composure. “I do not know your story,” she says, “nor do I wish to, and now, nor do I care. I only leave you with this as I leave.”

Shuri takes a step forward to your parents, jaw clenched tight and piercing eyes meeting theirs once again. “My (Y/N) will be loved…as it is clearly something neither of you could bestow upon her.”

And in the same flash of black she leaves the party, that had long gone silent, and biting her tongue so hard she thought she’d draw blood.

Exitting the back yard, Shuri comes around the front to see you and Alex sitting on the porch steps. She holds a towel to your cheek, whispering to you with care about holding the cold, wet cloth gently on your cheek to battle the inflammation. It was the first and only thing she could grab without immediately leaving your side, the green garden hose still running into the grass proof of it.

It takes everything in Shuri not to run to you, to pull you into her arms and cradle you into her embrace, to shield you from the cruelness that has surely been brought back to the forefront of your mind. There’s a pit in her stomach that churns with the pain of unease, and it eats at her as she thinks; if she had just been swifter with that call with Ayo, or better yet, not even answered at all, then you wouldn’t have been left alone, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Shuri grows closer and realizes that the both of you are crying, and her heart tightens in her chest. She bends down to meet you on eye level, resting a soothing hand on your leg. Alex holds her head in one hand, her other still grasped tightly onto your side, holding you close to her. Shuri finally understands what Alex meant when she talked about the varying levels of harm done to the sisters in their youth. You took the physical and verbal brunt, while Alex took the emotional.

“This was not suppose to happen.” Shuri hears Alex mutter, and the queen quickly cuts in before Alex has a chance to even say as such.

“It is not your fault, Alex,” the queen asserts, “you cannot be responsible for the actions of your parents.”

Alex looks up to Shuri, sniffling as their eyes connect. A beat passes before the older sister nods, though her jaw is still tight with tension. There’s a shift in Alex’s eyes, from sadness and regret, to a hardened security.

“I need to get my house in order,” she says, glancing to her side, and reluctantly peeling her arm from around your waist, “party’s officially over.”

Alex stands to do just as she intends, and as she leaves, Shuri grows closer to you. One hand rubs circles into your knee, the other one gently lifts your face up to meet hers. Your eyes are tired, likely due to adrenaline fatigue, but your body still shakes with a light tremble.

“I am taking you home.” She says, leaving no room for argument; even though, in your current state, you couldn’t refuse her if you wanted to. So when Shuri wraps her arms around you and lifts you to your feet, you all but lean into her warmth. 

And the kiss she presses into the crown of your head provides reassurance that even after the events that have unfolded, with Shuri, you will be okay.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #black mcu #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x reader #mcu x black!reader #black panther #black panther 2 #black panther x reader #black panther x black!reader #black panther shuri #shuri black panther #shuri #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku x black!reader #princess shuri x reader

[antisocialite83]

One of my guilty pleasures is watching popular shows AFTER the popularity is all gone. For example, I’m watching #Scandal. Like, THE OLIVIA POPE(!!!) for the first time ever. Don’t get me wrong, I know the outline. However, since there are no such thing as #spoilers (my opinion bc I’ve never “heard” a description that EVER does a film justice), something always gets left out. I have to see the story unfold for myself. I like to fill in my own blanks.

THIS SHOW IS GOOD!!!!

Wow. #OliviaAndFitz are actually the least interesting thing happening on this show lol. There’s always some unbelievable actual scandal going on. So far, I’ve made it into the second season and jeez! It’s free smoke for everybody. They be reading each other for fiiiiiilth!!!(I especially HATE how condescending and downright mean #Cyrus is to James). Also, is Olivia Pope a republican!?! Cuz, what!? But not surprising.

So far I really like Olivia and Cyrus’ odd couple friendship. Huck and Olivia are better friends tho. I can tell their relationship is more intimate, less transactional. lol Even when they’re pissed with each other, they’re still fiercely loyal. I hope he gets to be with his family again. The callous way Charlie tried to break him(#752 🥹), I hope he die real slow. Somebody gon have to pop his ass. I can’t believe I’m only on season 2. Speaking of which, I’ve just gotten to where Eli Pope reveals himself to Cyrus. Olivia doesn’t know…yet. Looking forward to that. Most importantly, it seems like everybody run the White House EXCEPT the president. Specifically, #Mellie, Olivia, and Cyrus.

This is def not everything I’ve noticed/seen BUT I am getting sleepy, finally(!). My sleep’s been better these past couple of nights. I guess political dramas lull me 😂😂😂. I’m glad to have another insomnia treatment.

Oh yeah, Fitz is a immature DICK. Even tho I’m only on S2, something tells me that will be consistent throughout the series.

Finally have made it to season 6. Lemme just once again say, THIS IS A GOOD ASS SHOW!!!!

Also, every character needs therapy.

More importantly, can Lauren, the President’s secretary, PLEASE get some props. She the least corrupted person on the show.

First of all, so glad Olivia and Fitz did not get a happy ending. They didn’t deserve it. Cyrus really got what was coming to him and it was sad but also not really. Too much blood on his hands AND he’s a deadbeat/absentee father!!!! Like, he had no concern about Ella at all. Too busy scheming smh.

Abby is a dick. Lowkey, and now majorly highkey you can see how envious/resentful she is of Olivia. That can happen when you feel indebted to someone. Also, take Olivia off the pedestal lol cuz she def be fuxking up to. Fitz is painfully…MEDIOCRE. And also co-dependent. Like he can’t function without a women around men…managing him. I can’t believe how corrupt this firecr**ch ass bitch became. Also, tho if these the same people who have manage to (somewhat)muzzle Rowan, then I get it. The scary lady who’s name i don’t know, is the actress who plays the mom in #YoungSheldon lmao seeing Mary Cooper be a badass is sendiiiiing me 😂😂😂. “Ms. Majorie Ruland”, and ole boy really knew how to tap into Abby’s insecurities.

RIP HUCK!!!! 🥺😡🥺🥺 …..sike! That was a damn good plot twist. But my boy should stick to his guns. A lesson in trusting your instincts. Had Olivia not started questioning her most loyal friend, I don’t think this would’ve happen. But I knew that girl was a weirdo. And he did to. Of course tho, Olivia couldn’t see the forest for the trees. At least not when it comes to her father.

Season 7!!!!

Mellie is president! And a damn good one. Quinn and Charlie being badass vigilante murderers, who make a kid 🥹🥹🥹>>>>>. That damn Cyrus ain’t NEVA leaving the White House. He should have his own wing atp. Seeing Olivia become Eli is cray. She don’t even wear white anymore!!! But Noir Olivia does have much better hair. Lol. I’m so glad Abby is back in the also(it’s lowkey still fuck her tho). I feel like Olivia is gonna snap. And I’m so ready.

Curtis > Jake > Fitz.

Overall : 4/5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

#scandal #olivia pope #scandal abc #plot twist #justiceforlaurenthesecretary #who run the world #character development #shonda rimes