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verfound · 3 years

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What is More Than a Checkbox about? 👀

Sex. 😂 No, seriously.

So @fenheart87, ages ago, gave this prompt: angsty ish. Marinette goes to luka to lose her v card before college. When asked why she responds, "I trust you to show me how to make love and not just fuck me. I want to feel loved at least once."

And it was supposed to be a short, simple, PWP piece, but then it caught feelings ("Feelings? In MY smut? ...it's more likely than you think!" 😘). This was back when I was first starting to set up my lemonade stand, so it was also supposed to be an exercise in writing smut. And then the next thing I knew, I was 10k in and the eejits were still just fighting about why Marinette was going to Luka and what the fuck, Marinette.

The full title is "More Than a Checkbox on a Stupid List", and it's three parts long. The first part is "The Proposition of Luka Couffaine" (where Marinette hatches this plan to ask Luka to help her lose her virginity and he does not react the way she thought he would), part two is "The Wooing of Marinette Dupain-Cheng" (where they have two or three weeks before Luka has to go on tour again and he's determined to do things the Right Way and actually date her before he has sex with her), and part three is the "The Fucking of Marinette Dupain-Cheng" (where he comes back from tour and they don't leave his room for an entire weekend).

And you may have just bumped this way up on my list, because I really loved this idea, went rabid writing P1, and haven't actually touched it since...

(Nothing explicit under the cut, but they are discussing things - so M?)

“Actually, you know what?” she said, her voice a little higher and faster than normal. She cleared her throat and slapped a too-bright smile on her face. “I think I would like some coffee.”

When he lifted his head and looked at her through half-lidded eyes, her heart almost stopped entirely. It was almost enough to make her rethink her plan – almost. She swallowed and looked down, her cheeks warming under his gaze. She was eighteen now, damn it. A legal adult. She could handle something as simple as having sex with someone without letting feelings get in the way.

…she hoped.

“One coffee, coming up,” he said, grabbing his own mug before heading to the counter along the wall.

“Th-thanks,” she said, wincing at her stutter. She cleared her throat, and he hummed in response before taking a sip of his own coffee.

“So what brings you over, Ma-Ma-Marinette?” he asked, reaching into the cabinet for another mug. She rolled her eyes at his gentle teasing and took a deep, steadying breath. It was now or never. “Not that I’m not happy to see you – I’m always happy to see –”

“I want to lose my virginity,” she said in a rush. The mug slipped from his fingers and fell to the counter, bouncing off the ledge before it smashed on the floor.

“O-ok?” he asked. He almost sounded like he was choking. His back was to her, but she could see his fingers flexing as they gripped the counter. His shoulders had become suddenly tense, his arms stiff as he leaned forward.

“And I want you to help me do it,” she continued. Her voice was steadier this time, firmer. More certain.

“…o-ok?” he repeated, and he was definitely choking that time. She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. She picked at her thumb while she waited for him to respond. When it seemed like he wouldn’t, she looked back up to find he was cleaning up the broken mug. His back was still to her.

“Luka?” she called. She cleared her throat when her voice came out too quiet. He stopped picking up shards of mug. “It would…be kinda great if you said something.”

“Sorry,” he sighed, dropping the pieces of mug he’d been picking up and bringing his hands up to rub at his face. “Processing.”

“There’s not much to process,” she said with a (slightly nervous) laugh.

“There’s a hell of a lot to process, Marinette,” he bit back, and she winced at his tone. She hadn’t expected him to sound…angry. “Jesus Christ. I have not had enough coffee for this.”

“Ok, trying not to be hurt,” she laughed weakly. He slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, forgetting the broken mug and turning to lean on the counter across from her. He folded his hands together and hung his head, taking a few deep breaths. His hands were so tense his knuckles were blanching.

“You want to have sex,” he said, his head still down and eyes closed. She nodded, and when she realized he wouldn’t be able to see that she cleared her throat.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“With me,” he continued.

“Yes,” she said again. He looked up, an utterly blank and unreadable expression on his face. She would almost say guarded, except there was nothing for Luka to be guarded about.

“…why?” he asked. He sounded absolutely baffled. She blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Um…” she started, trying not to laugh again. How had this become so awkward? It wasn’t supposed to be awkward. It was just Luka. It was supposed to be straightforward, simple, and easy. It was supposed to be…Luka. “Why sex or why you?”

“Yes,” he said. She raised her eyebrows, and he groaned as he dropped his face against the counter. His voice was muffled when he continued. “Both. What the fucking hell, Marinette?”

…ok. She had pissed him off somehow.

“It’s not a big deal –” she huffed. She was suddenly feeling very defensive and a little angry herself. She looked down at her lap, smoothing out the skirt of the dress she had worn.

“It’s a very big deal!” he snapped. He winced at the look she shot him and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just…help me understand this. I’m not…I’m not saying no. I’m just trying to understand.”

“There’s not a lot to understand,” she snapped. “I’m sick of being a virgin and want to have sex. I trust you, Luka. I trust that you’d show me how it’s supposed to be done. Not just…fuck me.”

The strangled sound he tried to choke down made her raise her eyebrows a bit higher. She looked away and pushed out a breath, crossing her arms over her chest. The move felt defensive, like she was trying to protect herself – from what, though? This was Luka. Her friend. Her good friend. Her good friend that she had maybe been a bit in love with for a long time now, but her good friend all the same. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her – that was part of the reason she had come to him for this! He…he…

“I trust you, Luka,” she finally said, her voice soft. “I want you to show me what it’s like to make love. I just…I want to feel loved. At least once.”

The nerves had disappeared from her gut, replaced by something worse. Something unpleasant and twisted and awful. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Luka was supposed to laugh at her for being dumb, or agree without any argument. Because they were friends, and they trusted each other. Because he was older and wiser and more mature, and he had already done this. He had already had those experiences. So he would get it, and he would have no problem teaching her.

She squeaked when he was suddenly crushing her to his chest. She hadn’t heard him move until he was right beside her, and then he had gathered her up in his arms and tugged her close. His hand cupped the back of her head and gently guided it to his shoulder, and she shivered as he pressed his lips to her crown and stayed there. Her arms found the familiar path around him, winding up his back and fisting his shirt in her hands. She listened to him breathing, following his lead like she’d done so many times before until their deep, steady breaths were in sync. He pursed his lips against her head, kissing her firmly, before he pulled back and dropped his face against her shoulder. He squeezed his arms around her.

“You are loved, Marinette,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion she was too afraid to place. “You are so loved. How do you not know that?"

“That’s not…that’s not what I meant, Luka,” she mumbled. He pulled away, his hand sliding from the back of her head to cup her jaw. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, his eyes moving along her face as he studied her. She swallowed, her eyes dropping from his own, and he sighed.

“Then tell me what you mean,” he said. His hand flexed against her face, and then he was sitting on the stool next to her. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, and watched her. “Explain to me exactly what you mean, because I don’t understand at all. And I…I need to understand before I say anything.”

“You’re going to say no,” she said. She wondered if she sounded as bitter as she thought she did. By the way he rolled his eyes, she figured she did.

“I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes, either,” he sighed, raising an arm to rub at his eyes. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“What’s there to understand, though?” she whined. He cocked an eyebrow at that, and she crossed her arms over her chest again. “I want to have sex. I figured it would be smart to do it with someone I trusted instead of some random guy. And…I trust you.”

“I’m glad you do,” he said. There was still an edge to his voice that made her glare at him, and he sighed before hanging his head again. “I want you to trust me, Mari. I just…you want to have sex. I just want to know why. What the hell started this?”

“We were talking about it on my birthday – the girls and me,” she said. She was glaring at the microwave, her entire body stiff. “I’m the only one who hasn’t done it yet. Alya, Mylène, Juleka and Rose, even Alix – everyone but me has done it, and –”

“Ok, wait, hold on,” he groaned, holding up both hands. She looked back to him to find a grimace on his face, his eyes firmly shut. “One. Please don’t talk about Jules, Ro, and sex. I know they’re doing it, but I don’t need to know they’re doing it, ok? Two. If the only reason you want to have sex is because you’re the only virgin left in your friend group –”

“Oh my God, Luka, it’s not just that!” she huffed. She hopped off her stool, and he watched as she began pacing. His eyebrows rose. She was wringing her hands, bending her fingers back like she’d overworked them and was working out the kinks. “I’m not that stupid!”

“Good, because it really sounds like you are,” he said with a roll of his eyes. She turned back towards him and crossed her arms. Her eyes were starting to burn, just a little. She fell back on the anger and annoyance to keep herself from crying. That was a whole other level of mortification she was not prepared to deal with right now.

“Do you want to have sex or not?” she huffed. He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“That’s not the point –” he started, but she snorted.

“It pretty much is,” she scoffed. He glared at her beneath his hands.

“Could you get off the defensive for one fucking minute and talk this out with me like the mature adult you’re pretending to be?” he snapped. Her lips pressed together, and her hands balled into fists at her side. She sucked in a sharp breath. He sighed and slumped forward. “I’m sorry.”

“I should go,” she said, glancing towards the door. “This…this was a mistake. I’m sorry, too. Can we just forget I ever did this?”

“No,” he said. She jerked her head back to him, eyebrows high. He groaned, rubbing at his face again. “I am not akumatized enough for this.”

She snorted, biting down on a smile. She knew he saw it anyway when he grinned at her.

“Marinette, I just need you to talk to me,” he said. “I…I want to have sex. With you. But I need to understand why you want to do this first.”

“It’s not good enough that I want to lose with my virginity with someone I trust?” she mumbled quietly, staring at her feet.

“No, it’s not,” he sighed. “Not…not if it’s me.”

She frowned, her face scrunching in confusion.

“What…what should that matter?” she asked. “I mean…what, would you feel differently if I was asking Dingo?”

He choked, burying his face in his hands as another groan escaped him.

“You don’t even want to know what I’d feel if you asked fucking Dingo,” he huffed. She tried not to laugh at that, knowing it really wasn’t the time, but a small giggle escaped her when he lowered his hands and she saw he was grinning at her. “Promise me you won’t ask Dingo.”

“He was never even in the running,” she snorted. He sighed and nodded, still smiling. That was an improvement, at least. She picked at a loose thread on her dress (she’d have to fix that later) and bit her lip. “It…it was always you. It was only you.”

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imagines-oneshots-blog · 4 years

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Death and the Maiden I. Of Monsters, Men, and Torrid Truths

The hum of the Mustang’s engine rumbled beneath John’s seat like the grumble of a disgruntled beast, one with skin made of metal and a bleeding molten heart hewn of iron and pistons and gasoline. Well, that makes two bleeding hearts in this car, John mused wryly, though his was forged from flesh and blood and costly promises instead of smelted steel. If someone had him cornered, a gun held to his head and his hands tied behind his back, demanding to know what in all of heaven and earth had spurred him to offer his home to you as a temporary hideout from that sleazy gangster Ritchie and his hitmen, John would have to send a prayer to whatever god of death would listen to the devil and prepare to meet them soon, because he had no good answer to that particular question. It wasn’t that John couldn’t be honest with himself, in fact he made it a nearly infallible habit to embrace the truth, no matter how damning, but the simple fact was that he just didn’t know. He didn’t have a name for the molten sensations that bloomed in his chest each time he stole a glance at you curled up in the passenger’s seat, your bare dainty feet tucked beneath you, your head resting on the pillow of your entwined arms propped up against the door, a stray curl kissing the silken curve of your cheek as you slept. He couldn’t identify the source of the fierce protective need he felt twitching the tendons of his trigger finger, tensing the wearied line of his shoulders, every time he remembered the crude comments of that lumbering, tattooed thug he’d dispatched in the hallways of the club. He had no classification for the tenderness that ached deep in his chest at the trust lilting in your touch when you’d slipped your hand in his, no justification for why the innocence banked in your glinting gaze when you smiled up at him could briefly stop his heart. Or maybe he just didn’t want to give it a name quite yet, wasn’t ready to damn himself all over again. Besides, John reasoned as an igneous flicker of heat settled with wicked intent between his hip bones, though you were many things, you weren’t really wholly innocent, were you? At least, not in the ways that kept you from slipping into his thoughts when he least expected it, when his blood was up and his guard was low. Before each one of your pre-scheduled private meetings John would sit in that velvet lined chair and wage a brutal, silent war with himself, stalwartly battling the impulse to imagine what lace hewn, daydream inducing creation would grace your gorgeous body today. He was honest enough to admit that he’d lost every time. He’d particularly enjoyed the strappy red gossamer and brocade number you had worn to your penultimate encounter, the one with blooming thickets of embroidered crimson flowers and a wealth of sheer mesh which hid the more tantalizing bits of your billowing body from him even as it bared everything else for his greedy gaze. John found it shockingly enticing to see that deadly color splashed against your exposed skin in a tantalizingly alluring fashion, a stark juxtaposition to the typical rending of flesh and the slashing of throats that he was accustomed to. John would be lying if he said that in those charged midnight hours spent tossing in his lonely bed, his battered mind left to wander freely, he hadn’t imagined stripping one or two of those wicked outfits off of you with both seeking fingers and nipping teeth, unwrapping your lithe, stunning body like a present. Hungry for thoughts that weren’t tinged with sorrow or bloodshed, he’d close his eyes and wonder how your soft, luminous skin would heat beneath his calloused palms, if you’d part your thighs eagerly for him, grant him access to the hallowed cradle of your hips. Would you lick those tempting ruby lips and sigh against his mouth, desire coiling thickly in that sultry sirens voice of yours as you begged him to touch the roiling wealth of curves waiting beneath his fallow fingers? And then he’d rail at himself, chastising his baser impulses with stark reminders that you were so young; a decade younger than him at least, maybe more. And then a fresh round of castigations would begin because that fact really shouldn’t send a searing frisson of heat skittering down his spine, curling devilishly low in his belly, but Jesus fucking Christ, did it ever. But no matter how much John tried to evade it, the simple fact was that even with smudged eyeliner, a tired smile, and dark circles splayed above your cheekbones, you were still the most stunning thing within miles of this shitty metropolis. Huffing in a slow, deep breath, John forced his mind to fixate on safer things than the tempting curve of your cupid’s bow, on the plan. Now that the difficult part of extracting you from danger was done you would hide out at his house for a while - long enough for Winston to dig up the locations of Ritchie’s safe houses, and then for John to hunt down each and every member of his entourage before he finally took care of the gun-toting mobster himself. John had known many gangsters in his life, thugs whose malice ranged from relatively harmless to utterly savage, had done each one of their bidding for the price of a glinting, garish, golden coin, but something about Ritchie made John’s stomach turn. A quiet voice in the back of his head supplied that it was probably because Ritchie had known you, had touched you and tasted you and still ordered your death, and that lack of loyalty colored John’s resentment with a particularly acrid bitterness which held the absinthian tinge of something that bordered dangerously close to jealousy. But John stubbornly shoved that voice aside and willfully reasoned that mostly it was the company Ritchie kept, or perhaps even the man himself. Regardless, John was glad to finally have someone truly deserving in his sightlines.

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633169/chapters/63762199

______________________________

AAAAAH I’ve FINALLY posted a new chapter on my John Wick x Reader fic, Blood and Gold and Bedroom Eyes, woohoo!!!

It’s a staggering 10k + words, but it’s full of delicious angst and lots of John POV, so I hope you’ll like it!! I wrote it a bit differently than I usually would, it’s exposition based instead of dialogue based, so while there’s still dialogue in here it has a bit more of a novel-like feel that lends itself really well to emotional exploration. There’s a bit of a twist at the end, but I do hope that you enjoy!!!

Tags!

@raspberrymama I know you’ll want to read this one, my friend!!

@dreamers-wonderland Hey there, I’m tagging you in case you’re interested but please feel free to PM me if you don’t want to be included in the tags for this fic!

@veryflammabledaffodils Hi there!! It’s been awhile since you submitted an ask to my blog but you expressed some interest in my John Wick fic so I thought I’d tag you in case you’re still interested!! Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in updated anymore!

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick moodboard #john wick mood board

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mariamegale · 3 years

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stand back everybody its spina time!!!!!! i love him and his exasperated eternally-done-with-his-friends antics. i love his tangent about clubbing. i love him being an emotional genius and an island in a stormy sea for literally everyone. i love him playing d&d. i love him hugging gene. i love him letting gene have that privacy just because he knows its what gene needs to be comfortable, even if he already knows gene and babe are a Thing. thank u so much for this update and 10k of emotionally intelligent king ralph spina. u truly know what the people (me) want -💌

the new update is great as usual! i love the differences between gene and spinas conversation and babe and bills cursing and yelling at each other lovingly. also id fucking die for ur spina any day... king of calling bill guarnere billiam! i cant wait for the end, even tho ill be very sad to see this serious go 💔 thank u for the laughter and the tears legend, and heres to these two idiots finally Talking! (i hope) -💌

I FEEL SO GUILTY IT TOOK ME WEEKS TO RESPOND jesus christ, i’m so sorry, i’m just... really bad at remembering when I’ve gotten an ask and to remember to respond, but oh my god you absolute sweetheart, how on earth am i blessed enough to get these

a) Spina is fucking amazing, i love him, and he needs more screen time in both fanon and canon i m h o.

b) He is the superior emotional intelligence and has a real fuck-off attitude to other people’s issues, which i love, and i’m glad you think so too <3

c) babe/bill and gene/ralph have such different nEEDS oh my god, i was hoping to just show how... like friendships are so different and you need different things from all of them. there is no one comb you can use to sort out all your relationships in life, because they’ll all be different. you can’t expect your friends to all behave the same way, not can you expect everyone else’s friendships to work the same way.

If you see someone in a relationship (platonic or not) where you’re worried about them or how they’re getting treated, of course you should tell them, but just because something differs it doesn’t mean it’s automatically bad. (and on that note if you have a friend that chooses to stay in a bad relationship, there’s nothing you can do to stop them and it’s not your fault. sometimes all you can do is walk away.) BUT I DIGRESS lol. Bill and Babe are a shouty bunch and of course their friendship would be shouty too lmao

d) ‘billiam’ is very much a thank to the lovely @dansssks who put that hc in my brain never to leave

e) <3<3<3<3<3 the end will be sweet. i promise. and i also promise to make the next plot-related thing be a planned one and not a fucking kink oneshot series that got out of hand and in retrospect makes no sense lmao.

thank you so so much for all your support and the kind words, my heart aches with love and gratefulness for you every day <3 :pleading_face:

(the last part is still a WIP since some other writing things with DEADLINES got in the way, but it’s slowly getting there! <3)

#asks #💌#Anonymous

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snidgetsafan · 5 years

Text

Good Omens

Rating: T

Summary: It all starts in a garden...In a world where Heaven and Hell play an ineffable game of backgammon with humanity, an Angel and a Demon have been stationed on Earth since the dawn of time. And after 6,000 years, any being, whether they be ethereal or occult, would go at least a little native. And after 6,000 years of being the only two immortal souls on Earth, could you blame these beings for braving angelic and demonic taboos and growing close?

A Good Omens AU (no prior knowledge of the book or mini-series needed) (on AO3)

Notes: Here is my entry for @csseptembersunshine! Good Omens is my favorite book ever, and the mini-series has reawakened my obsession. I haven’t been able to write anything else, this idea wouldn’t leave me. Just so you know: this was supposed to be a bullet point outline. And here we are, 10k later... I wish I could say I was sorry for all the puns and dumbass jokes, but you know I’m not. Last but not least: a HUGE thank you to @shireness-says, who has edited this fic in two days, cheered me while I was writing, and tolerated both my fixation and puns (and even made one of her own! I’m SO PROUD)

Wordcount: 10.7k

------------------------------------------

It all starts in a garden. No, not a garden – the garden. You could even say the Garden, since it’s currently the only one in existence.

It’s a gorgeous Garden. You could even call it heaven on Earth, because it is.

It doesn’t actually start in the Garden proper, mind, but rather on top of the wall surrounding it, where an Angel is watching the first two humans walk towards an undetermined future. More determined, however, is the lion slowly prowling towards them. A slight breeze brings the smell of ozone from the coming storm (the first storm – God really casting the humans out in style), as well as the slightest whiff of iron. That last smell is explained a few seconds later by the appearance of a huge snake slithering up the wall before slowly taking human shape as it reaches the parapet, as if unsure how to go about the transition. A Demon, then.

And thus the Demon spake unto the Angel, “Well, I don’t think that could have been any more dramatic.”

“I beg your pardon?” are the first words the Angel spake unto the Demon. The Demon smiles in amusement, their dark hair fluttering in the wind as it steadily blows stronger; the storm is growing nearer. They catch a few strands between their fingers, looking at it in puzzlement before shrugging and turning towards the Angel.

Then their smile turns into a frown. “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?” they ask, tilting their head to look behind the Angel, just in case their lanky frame could somehow hide a huge sword on actual fire. Such a feat would have to be quite the mirac– well.

The Angel averts their blue eyes, pretending to be fascinated by the approaching clouds. When they see the Demon patiently waiting for an answer (and isn’t it odd, seeing a Demon display one of the seven Virtues?), they mumble an answer, turning their head away once again.

(Those clouds really are quite something. They’re the first ones, for starters).

The Demon’s serpentine eyes widen. Surely – “You what ?” And then the Angel says Words, words that will shape the next six thousand years of the world, from its very beginning to its end (and its aftermath, too, but more importantly its end).

“I gave it away,” they repeat defensively, not looking at the Demon, unwilling to see the mockery on their face. The Demon is glad that the Angel’s not looking at them; this way, they have time to hide the absolute awe they’re feeling at the moment. It’s not that the Angel has compassion; angels are made of love, compassion is innate for them. No, it’s that this Angel, without even realizing it, has shown free will, has had the complete and utter balls to find and use a loophole in God’s orders.

They’re so awed, they don’t even acknowledge the envy and wrath this realization awakens in them (why didn’t this angel fall, when what they did was worse than what the Demon did – when they only asked questions? )

It’s the first time of many that the Angel will cause the Demon to ignore their very nature, reminding them of Before (before Eden, before Hell, before the fall, before the doubt).

And with the dawn of human history begins the dance of Emraoth and Kiliel (for they do learn each other’s names eventually). Because while “how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?” is quite an interesting question, it would be more appropriate to wonder what an angel and a demon would dance if left to their own devices (or to be more precise, not an angel and a demon, but rather this Angel and this Demon).

For instance, right now, you could say they’re line dancing; following the steps set by the choreography, occasionally facing each other but each staying in their own space, in sync with their side. They meet in Mesopotamia, Etruria, and what will become Australia. They assume their roles at the foot of the Ararat Mountains, though they’re not very good at it (an angel unenthusiastic about the Flood and a demon raving about the children not deserving this fate – what would their ilk think?)

––-

And then Jerusalem happens. Kiliel watches with sorrow in his eyes as God’s Son is nailed to one of the crosses. He knows God’s Plan is ineffable, and that Jesus’ death is a vital part of it, but his heart still bleeds as he hears the man’s cries and whimpers. He oddly feels relieved to smell the whiff of iron, turning his head to see Emraoth suddenly standing next to him (but not watching him - almost never watching him, not since Eden). She is draped all in black with a veil covering her brown hair in the local fashion, and she looks grim, no sign of amusement on her face.

“Did you meet him?” Kiliel can’t help but ask, both out of curiosity and as a way to cover Jesus’ cries of pain.

“I showed him all the kingdoms of the world,” she murmurs, not looking away from the cross now slowly being raised.

“Why?” Kiliel asks, not understanding what temptation she was trying to accomplish. And just like Emraoth’s whole worldview had tilted on its axis on the Garden’s wall, so does Kiliel’s on top of the Golgotha as Emraoth snorts, although there is no mirth in it.

“He’s the son of a carpenter. How else was he supposed to see them before he died?”

And just like Emraoth hadn’t expected to find free will in an angel before the Garden, Kiliel hadn’t expected to find pity in a demon before

They wait in respectful silence for the end after this, feeling Jesus deserves to not be left alone in his last, most terrible moments. Neither of them says a thing when the spear pierces his side; they’ll later get commendations from their respective sides for the act, and they won’t say a thing. What could they say? Could Kiliel say that out of the two of them, it was the Demon who showed mercy? And what can Emraoth say when Hell rejoices in her worsening the Christ’s agony? That it was the farthest from her mind?

So they continue line dancing. While they imperceptibly move out of sync with their sides, their steps start complementing each other’s instead, though no one notices, them least of all.

(God of course notices, just like She’s noticed everything since the beginning, but keeps Her own counsel on the matter).

––-

For once, Kiliel is the one who first spots Emraoth in Rome. She looks dejected, slumped against the counter with her head leaning on her fist. Kiliel feels quite nervous; he’s known Emraoth since the Garden (as much as one can know a demon, duplicity being second nature to them, he thinks, remembering Liamel’s warnings every time he reports in Heaven), but he doesn’t know how to deal with a demon capable of compassion.

But Kiliel is… curious, and he approaches her (and if Emraoth’s abrasiveness settles him into a relative sense of comfort, well, nobody has to know). They eat oysters, of all things. Emraoth hates them, but seems to like the honey cakes he orders for dessert (if the way she gobbles her plate and steals his last morsel while he is distracted is any indication, anyway). And during their meal, they talk. Not of deep things – they don’t trust each other enough for that - but of what they’ve seen. Kiliel talks about the Library of Alexandria; Emraoth mentions seeing it. Kiliel is suspicious until Emraoth snaps that it wasn’t her that burnt it down; Maleficent, one of the Duchesses of Hell, has pyromaniac tendencies.

They part, but something has changed. Both have enjoyed the other’s company, despite their natural enmity. Both Angel and Demon know that if their sides were to know this, they’d – at best – be called back to Heaven and Hell, never to set foot on Earth again. They tacitly agree to keep their acquaintance a secret.

The line dance stops, rearranges itself; they’ve shifted into a tripudium, right in time for the Dark Ages. The Church considers dancing to be immoral, wanton, but how can you stop humans dancing when there’s music? You can’t, so you compromise: people may dance, but under no circumstances should there be physical contact. Touching is impure, a mark of the Devil.

And isn’t that right on the nose for Kiliel and Emraoth.

They continue to meet from time to time (and if they sometimes investigate stories of miracles or curses wondering if they’ll find the other at the source... well, nobody has to know). Human technology and knowledge takes a step backwards after the fall of Rome. Kiliel misses running water and notions of personal hygiene; Emraoth misses good entertainment and good wine. They complain about it to each other over what passes for a drink at that time in inns, taverns, and on one memorable occasion, during a coronation feast.

They meet again in Ireland in the 5th century, and the discussion becomes quite heated over, ridiculously enough, salmon. Heated enough that Emraoth transforms back into a snake out of a frustration that makes her want to hiss properly. And heated enough for Kiliel to, for the first and only time, discorporate Emraoth where she writhes. They certainly didn’t intend to be seen by the locals, and Kiliel certainly didn’t expect it to gain as much traction as it did. He didn’t chase all the snakes out of the island; he just banished the only snake that ever stepped foot on it, is all. Still, he gets a commendation for smiting a demon and bringing Christianity to Ireland. Above is so happy with him that the medal is directly delivered by the Archangel Blue on a rainy Tuesday morning. The meeting leaves him feeling on edge; while he was outwardly rewarded and praised, this felt more like a trial than anything else. Blue’s parting words certainly didn’t help:

“It’s surprising how well you’ve adapted, Kiliel. Be careful not to go too native, though.”

(Emraoth takes her revenge a decade late when she sees Kiliel on the battlefield of Châlons, making sure at least three arrows are miracled to pierce him when he’s distracted. Why she had to make sure one hit him in the arse, Kiliel wonders before he is sent back to Heaven, he’ll never know).

––-

Kiliel joins King Arthur’s Round Table in the 6th century. Above wants to see how all of this quest for the Grail turns out, and he’s been sent to observe it all; Arthur had seemed like such a good lad at the lake when Kiliel had handed him the sword. (Not just a sword, either, but his sword, the one he hasn’t seen since Eden, though it’s not flaming right now. When it’s delivered to him by Blue he keeps a straight face. Nope, nothing to see here).

When talk of a dark sorceress reaches Camelot, Kiliel volunteers to investigate, centuries of habits making him guess who is behind these tales. And just as he thought, he finds Emraoth in the woods, lounging in a mossy clearing. She does look impressive, if a little… surly. Snakes don’t like the cold and the damp, after all. Neither do angels, for that matter. (Or Kiliel, to be more precise. Heaven, while beautiful and peaceful, is cold . Being posted on Earth had been a blessing in disguise; the warm caress of the sun had felt scorching after the chilly harmony of Paradise).

And in the middle of that mossy clearing, as Kiliel’s neck itches under his chainmail, and as Emraoth keeps having to miracle the bottom of her gown dry as they catch up, that clearing is where the Demon vocalizes an idea she’s had since at least Pompeii.

“If I’m here to wile, and you’re here to thwart, and all we do is cancel each other out all the time… wouldn’t it be more sensible to just… go home?” the Demon asks, her serpentine eyes fixed on Kiliel’s, “What’s the point of staying here in the damp when what we’re doing won’t have any impact anyway?”

Kiliel entertains the idea for a second (that chainmail really is itchy, and the less said about his braies, the better) before he sees through Emraoth’s attempt at sloth.

“No!” he exclaims, “what’s wrong with you?” Emraoth just shrugs, miracling her dress dry once more. She hadn’t even been trying to tempt the Angel; it would have just been more practical for both of them to go home, that’s all.

Oh well.

It only takes a decade for Kiliel to see Emraoth’s point as he takes Arthur to Avalon on his final trip, once again appearing as Viviane, the Lady of the Lake. That mess with Lancelot and Guinevere really soured Kiliel’s time in Camelot, and he feels that Arthur giving back Excalibur and dying marks the end of his time at the Round Table.

(He can’t help but feel a little responsible for Lancelot. He did have a hand in his upbringing, after all, and may have been a little heavy-handed in his lessons about love).

He has half a hope to be able to keep his sword at the end of it all, but it’s whisked away by Blue minutes after Arthur has breathed his last, nattering about how it’s going to be needed later on. He finds Emraoth still in the same mossy clearing, and the Arrangement is born. Instead of fighting fruitlessly against one another, one of them can accomplish both the blessing and the temptation.

And if the other one stays home… well, no one has to know.

––-

And so they now seek each other out, meeting in inconspicuous places: gardens, balls, markets, and isolated clearings. Kiliel is the one who goes up to Iona in the 9th century to inspire some Vikings into attacking the monastery there. He is also the one who helps the monks flee to Ireland. During the trip, he happens upon a gorgeously illuminated book, and is absolutely charmed. He helps the monks settle, and decides to stay for a little while, just to make sure the monastery stays safe (and the books, because there’s a second one ). A little while ends up being five decades. It’s in that time that he decides to adopt the name the locals have given him: Killian. It’s close enough to his real name, and attracts less attention than his foreign-sounding one.

During this time, Emraoth goes to the continent to wreak a little havoc. She has way too much fun nicknaming the successive kings of that period. Kiliel empathizes with Charles: being constantly mocked for your hairiness by being nicknamed King Charles the Bald must have stung something fierce.

When Emraoth comes back, she tells him she now goes by Emma. He guesses he’ll get used to it, even if it’s been almost five millennia of calling her by her demonic name. And if Emma doesn’t meet his eyes when she tells him she just liked the name when she heard it, Kiliel won’t call her out. Just like he won’t mention having read about the angel Immanuel in the Book of Isaiah (although he can’t – he can’t remember ever meeting her before the Fall. So is the curse of the Fallen, that their annihilation from Heaven be so complete that their very existence is banished from Heaven’s memory).

The Arrangement continues and strengthens with time; the dancers get closer and closer, until there is at last, some measure of trust; they touch, even if it is still hesitant. The dance once again changes, the parudium leaving its place to a stately minuet, where the dancers twirl around each other, growing closer then separating in order to come near again. (And if the dancers twirl closer and closer, well, again – no one has to know).

Kiliel learns not to tell Emr– Emma that she is nice, or kind, because she will spend the next decade trying to prove she is not . He spends all of the 10th century protecting the Kells library from different pillaging attempts because the Demon knows he loves those two books and is being spiteful. The monks there comment that it’s a miracle the two manuscripts always seem to survive the attacks on the monastery. Kiliel (or brother Killian, as he’s known there) smiles nervously and changes the subject every time.

Years, then decades, then centuries pass in this fashion. Neither Heaven nor Hell seem to catch onto their ruse. Quite the contrary, in fact; the commendations both from Above and Below become more frequent. The only downside to the Arrangement is that Kiliel sees Blue much more often than before, and every meeting leaves him feeling out of sorts, as if he’s missing something, as if Blue’s hiding something behind her affable smiles and azure garments. Kiliel can’t help but feel guilty after each meeting for doubting his superior; Blue knows what she’s doing, and if she weren’t following God’s Plan, then surely the Almighty would have already taken care of her.

Emma absolutely loathes the 14th century, and she makes sure everyone around her (especially Kiliel) knows it. Her drunken rants about all the evils of the era become legendary in their length, virulence, and irony. The last straw is when the umpteenth bout of plague decimates the village she is staying in; she decides in a fit of pique to sleep the rest of the century away. Kiliel does not miss her. He had just grown unaccustomed to only speaking to mortals, that’s all. Plus it’s nice not to have to protect what has become known as the Book of Kells from constant attacks because someone was annoyed and feeling childish.

(Emma has been a constant in his life since the beginning of human history; truth be told, he sees her more often than those on his own side. Of course he’s grown accustomed to her).

As time goes by, Kiliel grows more and more fond of books in general. Even though the Angel loves illuminated manuscripts and thinks them objects of art, no one is more excited than he about the advent of the printing press. He is quite proud, in fact, of having inspired the first sentence to be typed. “Fiat lux” – let there be light – had, indeed, been quite enlightened of him, he thinks. It helps balance the quite scandalous things that print will be used for. Being able to produce several books a day will certainly help spread not only the Gospel, but also stories and histories to people who didn’t have access to them before. And if more people can read, then more people can write books. That’s a win-win situation for the discerning angel looking for new material to read, after all.

Libraries start popping everywhere around Europe. Kiliel is all in favor of giving people free access to books; it’s just that books deserve respect , deserve to be handled with care, and so many of these humans seem unable to grasp that fact. They are precious, not only because they are rare, but because of the knowledge they hold. Even he will admit that he went a bit far in the Hereford Cathedral’s library. Chaining the shelves was frowned upon both by the Archbishop and by Above; he’s supposed to influence humans to do God’s will, not miracle the chains himself during the night. He had received a strongly worded letter the following week; phrases like “more judicious use of your grace” and “try to deal with less trivial matters in the future” were used, making Kiliel grimace in discomfort. Head office was not happy.

Emma comes back from her jaunt in the Carribbean with a tan and a new accent and laughs herself silly when he tells her what happened. Kiliel didn’t know demons could laugh. They snicker, cackle or chortle ominously, but Kiliel had no idea they could make such delighted (and delightful) sounds. And if he thinks that laughter really suits Emma, much more than her customary smirks... well, no one has to know.

A century later he is more careful in Dublin; chains are too obvious to protect the books. He just makes sure to devise a system that makes it near impossible to find specific volumes. After all, arranging them by weight and size is logical and practical when you think about it. So little space, so many books. And well, if the Book of Kells finds a privileged place in the college’s library, then that’s just a coincidence, isn’t it?

(His classification system serves as inspiration again when he opens his bookshop at the end of that century. Again: so little space, so many books ).

As Kiliel slowly sets up his shop at the end of the 18th century (he finally found the perfect place, a corner shop in the middle of Soho deserted by its previous owners due to the latest plague outbreak), he hears that the revolutionaries in France are requisitioning all the belongings of the nobility and selling them. He thinks of the libraries of the Versailles palace, of Paris, of Brittany. He thinks of all that knowledge being dilapidated and lost and can’t bear the thought. He needs to do something .

So the Angel travels to Paris with his pockets full of écus , and starts making enquiries. Except that the situation is so... peculiar in Paris these days that a rich well-dressed man automatically translates to aristocrat. And nobles aren’t very popular in Paris right now, except on the guillotine platform. And so an Angel finds himself chained in a cell in the Bastille. He’d miracle himself free, but he’s not supposed to be in Paris (he should be blessing away in Norwich, but Emma had drawn the short straw this time) and he doesn’t want to attract Above’s attention. And he’s sure he can explain himself to the court; their Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen sounded perfectly reasonable when he’d read it the previous month, very progressive and full of good sense. He might even suspect Heavenly influence, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s the only angel in Europe right now.

It turns out the French are not reasonable at all, especially when they see the content of his pockets and decide it would look better in their coffers. Really, he shouldn’t be surprised; they’re a pretty uncouth and smelly bunch and would be unsalvageable if it weren’t for their cuisine and wine. Kiliel finds himself in a new cell, one in which he can hear all the poor souls being decapitated to the cheers of the crowd. Nothing Heavenly about this, he thinks. Hell must be the ones behind this. He hopes Emma was not involved (and doesn’t dither too much on why he doesn’t want her specifically to be responsible).

He barely waits an hour before the executioner arrives, looking decidedly too cheerful for a dealer of death. Under his jolly appearance and upbeat tone, Kiliel can sense a man rotten to the core, who takes pleasure in making heads roll. No reason nor help coming from this side either, then. Getting discorporated is going to be such a bother, Kiliel thinks, disgruntled. At this rate, he should really use a miracle to free himself; he’s going to be reprimanded anyway, but at least he won’t have to fill the paperwork to get a new body.

“I really don’t understand how you can behave like such animals while pretending to fight for freedom,” Killian grumbles while raising his hand to snap his fingers, not realizing Jean-Claude has stopped moving entirely.

“Animals don’t use clever machines to kill each other,” sounds a voice from behind him as he realizes the crowd outside has grown silent. Emma . He turns around, smiling delightedly, never happier to see the Demon. She’s wearing the local garb, Phrygian hat hiding her brown curls, smoked glasses firmly planted on her nose to hide her serpentine eyes. Her hands are also on her hips, and her eyebrow is raised in the universal sign of annoyance.

“What the heavens are you doing here, Angel? Don’t you have a bookshop to open?”

While it might be surprising to see an angel lectured by a demon, it’s important to remember that this is not just any angel, nor any demon. So Kiliel tells her everything, ignoring the way she rolls her eyes so hard her head follows the motion. Explaining to Emma why he hasn’t freed himself is a little trickier, though (a lot more embarrassing, more like). Where he expects Emma’s laughter, or her anger, he’s only met with fond exasperation as she shakes her head, looking at him over her glasses. Emma can’t hold time prisoner for long, though, so she switches Kiliel’s clothes with Jean-Claude the executioner’s just in time for two soldiers to come fetch the “English pig” to take him to his date with Madame Guillotine. Both men ignore Jean-Claude’s protestations that he’s French, which probably has something to do with the fact that he’s suddenly forgotten how to speak French. The Angel doesn’t feel guilty about Jean-Claude’s fate. After all, it’s divine retribution for his crimes; he will die as he lived, on the scaffold – only this time, he’ll be the one with his head on the block.

After getting out of the Bastille and breathing in the relative fresh air (Revolutionary France really was letting itself go in terms of waste disposal and personal hygiene, not that it had been this stellar to begin with), they go to a café and have some crêpes. Between Emma riding on the high of a successful rescue and Kiliel feeling relieved at not having had to resort to any miracles, the tone is jovial. They joke around, Emma telling him about Norwich, Kiliel telling her about his latest purchases. After the first bottle of cider, Emma finally teases him about his coming to Paris, making the Angel smile (he’d been waiting for it; after almost six thousand years, he was starting to know the Demon).

They end up walking in the Tuileries after dark among canoodling couples and groups of friends. It would be hard to guess from this sight alone that the city was in the middle of the Reign of Terror. They stop on a bench overlooking the Louvre. Amusement and the alcohol they’ve drunk make Emma relaxed, and that the flimsy little glasses she wears keep sliding down her nose as she talks animatedly. Kiliel looks at her, finding her positively charming, her flushed cheeks and relaxed brow making her appear younger.

(Than usual, that is, not than her actual age. Any breathing body automatically looks younger than six thousand years. To be honest, any body looks younger than six thousand).

Fresh air and Paris and wine as well as a good time had with a friend make Kiliel unable to keep his thoughts to himself. “You have the most beautiful eyes, love,” he blurts out, emboldened by being able to see them for once, no smoky glasses shielding the serpentine orbs. Ever since she had discovered smoked glasses, she almost always had a pair over her eyes, the most notable exception being when she’d turned into a snake in Ireland (and hadn’t that encounter ended spectacularly badly).

And yet, even as the words escape his mouth, he knows he’s making a mistake; those glasses are an armor for her, one behind which she can hide and upon which she’s based her whole persona, her whole shell. Her face closes off immediately, and in another two minutes she’s gone, pretexting a temptation in Orléans. It’s only after she’s disappeared behind a row of trees that he realizes he’d never asked her how she had known where to find him.

Neither of the dancers notice, but Paris in 1793 marks a significant change in the dance, as the minuet slowly becomes livelier, sharper, more challenging. Both dancers prod at each other, enter each other’s space to see if they’ll take a step back, twirl and walk and collide in a fiery facsimile of a fight. Though it hasn’t been invented yet, the angel and the demon are the first to dance a pasodoble.

Kiliel doesn’t hear from Emma for 10 years. She waltzes back in his life one Tuesday morning in 1803 as he’s trying to convince a gentleman that no, he doesn’t want to purchase that Shakespeare folio, that it’s not for sale even if yes, it is on display in a bookshop. The gentleman is quite insistent until Emma snaps her fingers and he seems in a hurry to get… somewhere else. Kiliel doesn’t want to know. He’s just glad to be rid of the man, as he had quite odd ideas; arguing that bookshops have to sell books, how preposterous. It’s taken him more than three centuries to amass his collection, he’s not going to start squandering it. He didn’t nearly die in Paris for this.

That first meeting is all business, as she has a new pet project in Manchester (or, to be more accurate, the pet project is Manchester). They make a deal: Kiliel will ignore what’s happening in Lancashire, and Emma will steer clear of County Mayo in Ireland. Not that it’s a sacrifice for her; she still hasn’t forgiven him for what happened there in the 5th century. But if Emma plans on influencing a whole city, then Kiliel should definitely do the same, just somewhere else. He remembers popping by Cathair na Mart two decades ago for a blessing, inspiring the lord of the place to rebuild the village he had destroyed to extend his grounds, instead of just turning the inhabitants into the streets. A second blessing on the architect ensured that the new town would be decent; he’s particularly proud of the promenade along the river.

So Kiliel starts spending more time there, dusting off his Killian moniker and encouraging the citizens to do good. His efforts show, as four churches open. More importantly a proliferation of missions and charities begin to operate in and around the city. He hasn’t often concentrated so much on one place, and he finds he quite likes it, even if he misses his bookshop (though his frequent absences help establish him as a particularly difficult merchant, a reputation that he is far, far from resenting, as it keeps most customers away).

What he doesn’t expect, however, is to enjoy sailing so much. Oh, he’s already sailed before in his long existence – after all, you can’t travel from England to the rest of the world without setting foot on a ship (he could fly, but the air currents over the Channel are a nightmare to navigate) – but this, this is different. Sailing directly from London to Cathair na Mart is quicker and more practical than traveling by land, and for the first time since the invention of the caravel, he actually sails on the open sea, and he finds it exhilarating . When the wind is behind them (and it always is, he makes sure of it), it feels like flying, the ride smooth and swift. He loves it so much that he acquires his own ship, a small brigantine named The Ethereal Swan which employs eight sailors (but which he usually sails by himself if he can help it). He makes sure that a dock is always miraculously free for him both in England and Ireland.

He finds he can’t wait to show his ship to Emma. They are… friends, after all, are they not? They’ve been exchanging letters this whole time (even if months or even years could pass between each one), ostentatiously to continue with their Arrangement, less officially to catch up.

(Emma still refuses to step foot in Ireland; considering the utter mess she’s wreaking in Manchester, that’s probably a good thing. Kiliel can’t approach Manchester now without the stench of evil making his eyes water. They’d meet, but they’re afraid that both of them being absent from their cities at the same time would raise some suspicion).

He thinks he might get a chance in 1835, when Emma sends a message to his bookshop (he’s been spending more and more time there, his work in Mayo County slowly coming to an end) asking him to meet her at St James’ Park, not far from Buckingham Palace. It’s become a privileged meeting spot for them since the 1660s, but they haven’t been there since the canal had been transformed into a lake. Kiliel is quite eager to see the changes (and even more to see Emma; it’s been too long, despite the letters). They catch up with each other while walking the new avenues, Emma telling him all about the mischief she has been up to in Manchester and the commendation she’s gotten for it, before Kiliel talks about Cathair na Mart and Emma tries not to roll her eyes at the sentimentality (well, not too much). Kiliel softly smiles whenever she does so; he knows what she looks like when truly annoyed, and this isn’t it – this is just a front. The Demon Emraoth can be quite soft when she wants to be, although Kiliel isn’t stupid enough to voice that thought (not anymore, at least – he doesn’t know where she’d find Vikings to attack Trinity College, but he trusts her to somehow manage it).

It’s while they’re sitting down in front of the new lake, looking at the new facade of Buckingham House (“Palace, Angel, get with the times”) that Kiliel finally broaches the fact he bought a ship. “You what?” Emma laughs, looking delightfully surprised (just as she had on the wall of Eden, at the very beginning, and Kiliel is proud to still be able to surprise her). So he invites her to Rotherhithe where the Ethereal Swan is docked, planning on taking a cab to go there. Emma stops him, bringing him to a black buggy which she drives with… unabashed enthusiasm, a part of Kiliel tries to think diplomatically (though the rest of it is screaming that she’s driving like a madwoman). Between sharp turns and exhortations for Emma to watch the road, Kiliel performs six minor miracles to ensure there are no casualties to Emma’s driving, while the demon snaps that pedestrians know the risks when they venture onto the streets. It’s with the greatest relief that Kiliel finally glimpses the masts in the marina, and directs Emma as close to the Swan ’s dock as possible.

He suddenly feels bashful as he guides Emma onto the gangplank, ridiculously wanting her to approve of the ship. He can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as soon as he steps on the deck, feeling more at home than anywhere else (even more than his shop, and he’s lived there for the last five decades, longer than anywhere else). Emma has already started exploring, climbing on the upper deck to see the wheel and peer over the railing, before coming back towards him. Kiliel waits patiently for her, watching her walk around his ship, the sight oddly right.

They end up in the captain’s cabin, sharing a bottle of rum Emma miracles. She had brought back some from her time in the Carribean, and Kiliel had developed quite a taste for it. “Plus,” she smirks, ”it’s quite appropriate to toast the ship with some naval rum, wouldn’t you agree, Captain ?” Kiliel just smiles while sipping his drink, letting the alcohol and the company warm his insides.

It’s as she leaves that Emma plants a seed in Kiliel’s mind, looking around her at the books littering the window’s edge and the furniture.

“If you feel so much at home here, why do you even bother with your bookshop?”

(And isn’t that the way of demons, sowing seeds and making sure humans grow them all by themselves? Ironic, when you consider how hopeless Emma is with plants.)

At the time, Kiliel just smiles, but the wheels of fate have already started turning, even if he’s not aware of it yet.

––-

After that, they start meeting more often, always following the same pattern: they meet in the park, and end up either in his bookshop or on his ship (and always, always with Emma’s mad driving in the middle, regrettably). Excepting the infernal rides, Kiliel likes this new development. Even though she is supposedly his mortal enemy, he feels a kinship with Emma born of almost six millenia spent on Earth and of their own alchemy.

This state of harmony comes to an end on a stormy Tuesday morning four years later when Blue herself graces him with her presence, stepping into his bookshop as he waits for Emma’s arrival. They’re planning to go eat at Claridge’s. Apparently, his achievements in Cathair na Mart have earned him a medal, as well as a promotion. A promotion that means he’s being summoned back to Heaven, permanently . Something which he definitely doesn’t want, but can’t really say to Blue, now can he? Kiliel tries to argue that he is an asset here on Earth, that he knows the enemy and manages to thwart them quite effectively, but to no avail. She doesn’t seem to care at all that if he were to go, Hell would be left to roam Earth unchallenged, even enjoying the thought. And this promotion doesn’t feel like one either. What did Petrarch used to say? “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer”? Kiliel somehow doesn’t feel like a friend there. He manages to win a little time before he has to leave, just enough to sort his business here (just enough to say his goodbyes).

But it doesn’t come to that, as Blue comes sulking back two hours later, this time with Gabriel in tow. The head Archangel looks perplexed (which would translate to frantic agitation in any other person or angel). Apparently, Kiliel’s promotion has been postponed, as he is considered far more useful on Earth than Above – but he can keep the medal, thank you and goodbye. Blue doesn’t look perplexed or alarmed; instead, she looks frustrated, her mouth turned down into a subtle frown that Kiliel somehow catches. Her insistence on his being on Earth as merely temporary is also odd; it’s almost as if she wants to get him away from Earth, and not up to Heaven.

He sits at his desk, puzzled, when he realizes that Emma never came. It’s as he’s wondering where she is that she appears, as if summoned by his thoughts. She listens as he recounts his morning before rolling her eyes behind her glasses (she unconsciously rolls her neck at the same time, which Kiliel does not find cute; if Emma knew what he was thinking, he’d be discorporated on the spot) and inviting him to lunch. They don’t talk about it any more, and at the end of their lunch Emma heads off to Camberwell to officiate a blessing for Killian on her way to Croydon.

(Kiliel is not amused by the result of this blessing; young John William Bean was supposed to feel divine inspiration to bring change to his life, but not by shooting at the Queen. Emma is, however, and keeps arguing that the gun was full of coffee, anyway, the worst that could have happened was that Her Majesty’s dress would have sported a suspicious brown stain)

The incident stays in his mind, however, and he realizes with a certain shock that he can’t trust Blue anymore, that she doesn’t seem to have either his or Earth’s best interest at heart. The thought scares him, as an Angel is not supposed to question his superiors (is not supposed to question anything, really), and he knows that several of his former brothers and sisters have fallen for just this reason. He fears this will be his fate, until he realizes that it’s not God he’s questioning (he still has the utmost Faith in Her, doesn’t doubt Her Great Plan), but rather a particular Angel. The thought saddens him, as angels are not supposed to be suspicious of each other, but it is what it is.

And that’s where Kiliel starts to plan. Because whatever Blue’s goal is, it involves him not being on Earth, and he has no intention of being a part of it if it’s not the Almighty’s Plan. So he needs some sort of… deterrent. But what can an angel do against an archangel? There’s only one answer, and it’s a terrible, unthinkable one. Which is why Kiliel chooses to unthink it for a decade, pretending everything is fine as he conducts blessings as usual, interspersed with the occasional temptation for Emma.

But really, the thought keeps nagging him despite his best efforts; Hellfire is the only thing that can kill an angel. And he’s not talking about a simple discorporation, your mortal vessel dies, whoops, Up Above you go, please fill these forms to get a new one and don’t let us see you again. No, death by Hellfire would mean complete annihilation of the body and the soul; you’d be burnt away from existence, with no hope of resurrection whatsoever. It is an abomination, made even more abhorrent by the fact that it’s a weapon kept solely in the hands of their mortal enemies – just like the Heavenly Host has Holy Water. The stakes are balanced, each side having the means to destroy the other.

(While God’s Plan is Ineffable, this part is pretty clear, the balance perfect. They’ll see which side tips the scales when Kingdom comes.)

And yet, it’s the only solution. And as far as he knows, there’s only one way to get some Hellfire, and that’s through a demon.

Good thing he knows one.

Except the meeting doesn’t go as planned. They meet at St. James’ Park, feed the ducks, then head to the bookshop (which he keeps mostly closed these days; he’s getting tired of fending off customers) like usual. He makes his request after a few drinks, but Emma flies off the handle, categorically refusing to even give him an ember.

“I will not give you the meansss of destroying yourself. I need sssome time, Kiliel,” is the last thing she tells him, hissing her s in a rare show of true anger before leaving his shop, not looking back despite Killian calling after her.

He doesn’t hear from her for 64 years.

For the first time since the beginning of the world, the Angel and the Demon dance separately. The Demon has walked away from the paso doble, leaving the Angel alone on the stage.

And so, lonelier than he’s ever been, the Angel dons a mask that hides his face, and performs the steps that ensure he doesn’t stand out from the ensemble. He begins a Kabuki performance that will last until November 14th, 1941.

––-

Kiliel (or Killian Jones, as he’s come to be known by mortals) should really have realized this operation was too good to be true. He’d been contacted the previous week by a Captain Teach, who’d told him some Nazi agents were looking to obtain his collection of books of prophecy, and that the SOE wanted to use this occasion to root out the cell. He had readily acquiesced, always eager to thwart evil coming from demons and humans alike.

The Nazis has indeed contacted him, proposing a substantial sum of money to convince him to part with his precious volumes. He had accepted and called Teach back, giving him the time and place of the meeting. He thought it was quite fitting that they were to be brought to justice by an angel in a church, but he guessed that it made sense to meet in a place that was public but usually deserted, and which wouldn’t be crowded in case of an air raid. However, he didn’t like that Her house would be used for such nefarious purposes, but guessed that the ends justified the means in this case.

Except that it turns out Captain Teach is only a pseudonym, and that he’s really a mercenary who doesn’t care where the money is coming from, as long as it’s hard cash. Kiliel is fuming as he stares down the nozzle of the gun pointed right between his eyes; he can’t believe he got swindled by these half-witted Nazis .

His execution is stopped by colorful swearing and the off-rhythm staccato of heels hitting the church’s stone floor. The men turn as one to see a woman hopping quickly towards them. Kiliel can’t believe his eyes; he hasn’t heard this voice in 64 years (nor seen these calves since Ancient Greece, if he remembers correctly).

“The notorious Emma Swan,” Teach breathes next to him, sounding astounded.

“Swan?” Kiliel asks in confusion, ignoring the humans behind him.

“Yeah, what of it? I had to think of something,” Emma grumbles, coming to a stop near them, sitting on a pew and taking her feet off the ground with a sigh of relief escaping her red lips. Kiliel tries to hide his smile, flabbergasted she’s here, in front of him, after all this time, and that she walked on consecrated ground to come to him. Turns out it’s not the only miraculous thing to happen today, though; she explains to Teach and the Nazis that they’d better run if they want to avoid getting killed by the bomb that’s heading their way. She mentions that only a miracle would allow someone to survive the explosion, looking meaningfully at Kiliel over her glasses, who understands her meaning and prepares to use his Grace at the right moment.

Teach is the only one who heeds Emma’s advice and scampers out, running out of a side door. The Nazis don’t move, thinking that Fraulein Swan is bluffing, even as they can detect the buzz of planes coming nearer. They only realize she’s definitely not when they hear the tell-tale whistle of a bomb heading towards the ground at breakneck speed. Kiliel walks closer to Emma before blinking and making sure their little corner remains untouched by the blast and the debris, allowing only a warm breeze to ruffle their hair. When the dust has settled, Kiliel turns his head towards the Demon. She looks regal, draped over the pew, her black outfit untouched by the dust as flames reflect on her sunglasses, making her appear absolutely diabolic. She’s never looked more beautiful to Kiliel.

And then he realizes he completely forgot about his books. They’d been in the Nazis’ hands before the bomb had fallen, and they must be completely crushed under the rubble, or even burning, he thinks with dismay, sighing noisily. They had been among his most prized possessions, some of them even signed by their authors (he especially loved the dedication by Nostradamus – such a nice man, if somewhat misguided). But then Emma gets up, heading towards the biggest pile of rubble and picking something up before tossing it to him. Caught by surprise, Kiliel fumbles to catch it before looking down and seeing that it’s his satchel, untouched by the destruction around them.

“Little demonic miracle of my own,” Emma says as she passes him, gingerly walking towards the exit, the ground still consecrated even if the church doesn’t exist anymore.

Kiliel doesn’t follow immediately, floored by the thoughtfulness of his friend as his heart soars and his stomach swoops and – oh . How could he have been so oblivious? Angels are beings of love: they are made of it, and they thrive in it. An argument could be made for his love for Emma blending into the love he feels for all creatures, high and low, but that’s not it, is it? He doesn’t merely love Emma, he’s in love with her. He doesn’t just want to see her happy, he wants to make her happy. If he could give her back even a tenth of the bliss she elicits in him just by existing, then he’d be satisfied.

He’s jarred out of his thoughts by Emma calling after him to hurry up. With a soft smile, he follows her to the street, where she heads towards a parked car, clicking her tongue at the gravel and dust covering it. Stepping on the sidewalk, Kiliel blinks once more, and the car is sparkling clean. Kiliel is surprised to see that it’s more yellow than black – a surprising color scheme for a demon but then, when has Emma been remotely conventional? It’s surprisingly her , he thinks fondly. His smile is soon wiped away, however when he sees her get behind the wheel, the passenger door opening on its own in a wordless invitation to get in as he hears sirens in the distance. Surely she’s calmed down on her driving, right? What with the different vehicle and the risk of rubble on the streets she’s going to be more prudent, he’s sure. Kiliel gets in, clutching his satchel.

He was wrong. She’s even worse than before, the maneuverability of the vehicle allowing her to do more daring stunts, like taking turns on two wheels, or slaloming between craters at top speed. Kiliel is glad Soho is not far from the church, as he would surely have discorporated if he’d had to stay in the car for five more minutes, either from an accident or from his heart giving out on him (Emma scoffs when he tells her that, reminding him that he actually doesn’t need a heart, stop being so dramatic, it’s not cute at all ). The only good thing about the ride is that since they’re in the middle of an air raid, there are no pedestrians on the street.

Emma stops when she enters the bookshop, looking at the empty shelves with amazement before turning to Kiliel, silently waiting for an explanation. It’s simple, really; what with the Blitz raging over London, he wanted to make sure that both his ship and his books would be safe. He went with the most practical solution, which was to put the books in his ship, and his ship in Cathair na Mart. He doesn’t understand what’s so funny about it, but Emma is highly amused (and if her mocking allows him to hear her beautiful laugh, then it’s a small price to pay).

They spend the evening drinking, catching up, and not mentioning their last meeting at all. The Angel asks about Emma’s new name, and has the pleasure of seeing a slight embarrassed flush bloom on her cheeks as she mutters that she needed a new name and that was what came to her – it’s not her fault demons have no imagination. Kiliel charitably doesn’t say anything more, as they both know Emma can be quite creative when she wants to be, choosing instead to ask about her car. That launches her into how she got it and the modifications she had done to it.

Kiliel keeps expecting to feel different about Emma, but apart from having identified his feelings, it’s just like any meeting they’ve had before. It’s comfortable, familiar, a breath of fresh air after more than half a century of her absence.

When Emma leaves, it’s with no promise that she’ll be back. And yet, Kiliel somehow knows he won’t have to wait 64 years to see her again.

––-

The Demon comes back to the dance floor, and the pasodoble resumes, even more intense than before. But the dynamics have changed; they don’t push against each other as much, choosing instead to move together. The posturing is just that, now: a facade for the audience.

Another change: they barely look away from each other.

Kiliel’s books never go back on the shelves of the bookshop, despite the ship coming back to its place in Rotherhithe after the war. A seed Emma had planted a century before finally blooms, and he realizes that he is much better on his ship alone with his books rather than trying to fend off rude people not understanding that they’re not for sale (“customers, angel, they’re called customers ”).

Arranging his collection to his satisfaction takes some time (and a miracle or two, both angelic and demonic) until he’s satisfied. The whole cargo hold is transformed into a new library, with only his most prized books in his cabin. With this new organization, Kiliel finds himself with a lot of room below deck empty; he uses it to store bits and bobs, such as nautical maps and instruments, his old clothes (though his toga doesn’t survive the trip, and miracling it whole wouldn’t be the same), and various furniture and decorations (and if the pew on which Emma had lounged in 1941 finds its way to the galley… well, no one has to know).

Once he’s satisfied with his organization, in 1952, he invites Emma aboard to show her. He’s a little miffed by her laughing fit, because he’s not a proper pirate now, whatever she says (though her laugh is still as delightful and precious as ever, even more so now that he knows how much he loves her. For a few minutes he thinks mission accomplished , he’s made her happy).

Emma is so amused that for the next fifteen years, she only refers to him as Captain and asks him every time they see each other how his pirate booty is doing. Kiliel feels like he is the butt of the joke in some way, though he’s yet to find how.

They also see each other more frequently, approximately once every couple of years. They don’t mention it, but Kiliel is glad; he missed Emma before, and in a world that has become so fast changing, it’s reassuring to have a constant, even if she insists on following human fashions, making each meeting a lesson in the zeitgeist of the time.

On a foggy Tuesday morning, Blue comes to visit Kiliel at his old bookshop. Though his collection has been relocated, he keeps the shop to maintain a base of operations in Central London, now filling it with much more recent books that he is willing to part with (though he keeps his hours as erratic as before; he doesn’t mind selling these books, but even he has his limits when it comes to customer service). She wants to ask him what he knows about a heist that took place in Mayfair’s Christ Church. Apparently a door was broken down, but nothing was stolen – except, oddly enough, all the Holy Water vats were emptied, not a single drop remaining. Kiliel hadn’t heard about this, and plays it down as probably a local homeless man wanting a dry place to sleep for the night and who was thirsty. Blue almost seems disappointed by his explanation, asking him to look into it nonetheless; they can’t have Holy Water falling into the wrong hands, after all.

Kiliel diffidently agrees, even though he can feel his anger rising. He knows. A quick visit to the church confirms his suspicions; a slight scent of iron betrays that a Demon has recently come here and burnt her feet on the consecrated ground. Though why would she take such a risk, knowing that even a mere handful of liquid could do her serious harm, even kill her if she were splashed?

How dare she take such a risk, Kiliel thinks angrily, when she could just as easily have asked him to – oh.

Oh, the hypocrisy .

While Kiliel has adapted quite well to the human world, he remains at his core an angel, and while angels are known for their benevolence, they’re also known for their righteous fury when provoked.

And Kiliel? Oh, Kiliel feels provoked alright.

He heads to her new apartment (she wasn’t even subtle, just went to the closest church, that damned serpent) and barely restrains himself from literally knocking down the door, but only because he can feel human eyes on his back and he doesn’t want to cause a scene. So he pretends to have a key and miracles the door open, striding into the living room. The Angel can feel that Emma is absent; there’s no one in the flat, so he sits down, and waits. He waits until the sun has gone down, and until it goes up again, his anger feeding on itself to remain a burning fire in his chest.

When Emma finally shows up, she enters her living room cautiously, already knowing he’s there. Kiliel doesn’t even let her open her mouth to talk, laying into her immediately. Because beyond the anger, he is hurt , hurt that she wouldn’t trust him, hurt that she’d do the exact same thing she had refused him the previous century, and hurt that she would risk herself in such a way. And beyond the anger, beyond the pain, he is afraid, because what could a demon want with Holy Water?

“That’s none of your business!” Emma exclaims, her eyes flashing behind her sunglasses.

“None of my business? Are you kidding me? It is my business when a demon does what no other has ever done and sneaks into a church to steal Holy Water ! It is my business when that stupid, stupid act attracts the attention of the archangels, and they ask me to investigate! And whether you want to admit it or not, it is my business when my friend takes ridiculous risks to obtain something that could obliterate her from existence, and refuses to tell me why!”

“We’re not friendsss ,” Emma hisses, as if the word is the ugliest swear she’s ever uttered, “I don’t even like you.”

Of all that he said, that is the thing she chooses to respond to? Infuriating woman, he doesn’t understand how her animal traits are not those of a bull; she’s the thickest-headed being he has ever had the displeasure to meet.

“Yes you do ,” he snaps back, at the end of his rope. He doesn’t know when he stepped closer to her, but he is now towering over her smaller form, forcing her to raise her head to look him in the eyes (and despite the glasses as a barrier between them, he’s not fooled by her) but for once he will not back down. This is too important. “What’s going on, Emma?”

He can see her wavering, senses it in the way her breathing hitches, how her body shifts as if she wants to slither away, forgetting she’s in human form for a moment. But she rallies (because she wouldn’t be his Demon if she didn’t) and answers his question with another one. “Why did you want Hellfire for anyway? Quite hypocritical of you to rake me over the coals, so to speak, for something you tried yourself barely a century ago.”

Kiliel doesn’t let her barb get to him and instead decides on honesty, knowing that this will catch her off guard. “Because I need… something to defend myself with, just in case,” he says simply.

“Defend yourself? From angels? What the fuck is going on, Kiliel?” Emma almost never uses his name, preferring one of the numerous nicknames she has for him, so he knows she’s rattled.

And so he tells her everything: that while his faith in God has never wavered (quite the contrary; seeing Her hand in the wonders of the world, both big and small, has only strengthened it), he has started to have doubts about Blue, finding her actions and words quite peculiar. He tells her about his fear of Falling for doubting his superior, and that the fact Blue herself hasn’t Fallen means that she is still faithful to God, and the incident that triggered his request for Hellfire. He’s surprised, however, when she snorts as he recounts Blue’s change of mind.

“Yeah, I know, I was there,” Emma says, smirking. “I heard her when she was at the bookshop with you, so I took action.”

What kind of action exactly, she will not say. Kiliel is mystified: not only had she known about Heaven’s plans, but she’d actually thwarted them with no one being the wiser, the clever, clever woman. Doesn’t like him, right .

Emma then opens up to him; demons don’t trust each other by nature, but Hell has been even more tense recently. Something big is brewing, although she doesn’t know what yet. More demons have been making noise about coming to Earth, too, even high-ranking ones, such as two of the Duchesses of Hell, Maleficent and Cruella. Nothing has stirred Hell like this, ever ; even the Great Flood hadn’t excited demons in this way.

Something wicked this way comes , Kiliel can’t help but think. Good old William – he’d heard Kiliel tease Emma back at the Globe, and he’d run with the line. He doesn’t know what’s better: being the inspiration behind Macbeth ’s most famous scene, or Emma’s offended face when she had seen the three witches for the first time.

But they have no idea what it is, so all they can do is prepare as well as they can and agree to keep each other in the loop from now on. Kiliel manages to get a promise from Emma that she’ll get some Hellfire for him, which he hopes she’ll honor.

Neither of them talks about the fact they are actually plotting against their own side, choosing their mortal enemy (though just one in particular) over their own brethren. But they have been here on Earth so long that it has started to feel more like home than Above or Below ever have; they have spent so much time together that they feel more kinship to each other than to their own kind.

The next day, Kiliel finds a lantern glowing with an ever-burning fire on his cabin’s desk. It ends up in his safe, warded against any accidents, whether external or internal. Emma is not the only one who’s paranoid.

––-

Months pass, then years, then decades. The Angel and the Demon see each other more frequently, though not regularly, in order not to arouse suspicion. Short, short, long, go the intervals. Quick, quick, slow, goes their rhythm. They fly across and around and over the world in an otherworldly foxtrot as Earth evolves around them, faster and faster, busier and busier. But the world can’t go on accelerating; it’ll need to either stop turning or rotate right out of its orbit, both outcomes meaning its downfall.

––-

On a perfectly fine Tuesday morning, Blue visits Kiliel in his used bookshop, startling him from his inventory (he had to do something with the space, after all, and filling it with books that have been loved by previous owners creates a warm glow that warms him from inside; he is an Angel, after all, and angels thrive on love). From the start, the Angel knows that something is different. Blue is positively glowing, her eyes sparkling and the corners of her lips seemingly permanently turned into a slight secretive smile.

The secret, for once, is quickly spilled; the Archangel seems delighted to announce that the Antichrist has been delivered to Earth, and by none other than the Demon Emma, as if it’s Kiliel’s personal fault. She doesn’t elaborate on this theme, however, preferring to tell him that he had best put his affairs in order, as eleven years will pass quite quickly. Her parting words - that he should also start training for the War, that he seems to have gotten quite out of practice, if his reflexes are to be believed – hit their mark, despite Kiliel’s best efforts not to let them. He used to be one of the Host’s best soldiers, after all, his exploits earning him a post at one of Eden’s gates.

But six thousand years on Earth have changed him; he doesn’t want to fight anymore, doesn’t see the point in it (and he doesn’t want to face even the slimmest possibility of finding himself opposite Emma on the battlefield). And yet, the arrival of the Antichrist shows that the Ineffable plan is going along, that it is God’s will.

So be it.

On a perfectly fine Tuesday afternoon, Kiliel stands at the prow of the Ethereal Swan , looking unseeingly over the water, when his phone rings. Without pulling his gaze away from whatever it is he is seeing, he answers the phone, already knowing who’s on the other end.

“Emma. I suppose you’re calling about…”

“Armageddon, yes.”

Well.

––-

The music stops, and so do the dancers, their hair and their clothes snapping around them as they lock gazes, lost in their own world. A world that’s coming to an end.

Welcome to the End of Times.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #ouat #septembersunshine #snidget writes #good omens

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hanaasbananas · 4 years

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God I finally finished ch3 I actually feel like crying this chapter was absolute HELL to write and I wasn't looking at the word count when I wrote the last section but ch3 final word count comes in at 5.2k Jesus Christ what happened to my outline of 'every chapter will be 2.5-3k MAX' skskssk

But also I am SO GLAD I get to move onto ch4 bc I kept trying to when I was stuck on 3 but just. Could. Not. Do. It for some reason?? I'm thinking probably bc most of ch4 is about what happened at the end of 3 which I hadn't written until now lmaoo

But God, this is actually gonna be my longest fic oop. I mean??? I've written 4 chapters and it's already at 8 thousand so when I finish ch4 it'll definitely be up to 10k AT LEAST + 7 more chapters bloody hell

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #fanfiction

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thecloserkin · 5 years

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fic rec: We Are All We Have by inkstainedwretch

fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

pairing: Violet Baudelaire/Klaus Baudelaire

word count: 10k, oneshot

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: Yes

Is it endgame: Yes

Bottom Line: stunning, beautiful, perfect, cleared my skin & watered my crops

It starts back in the attic of Olaf’s house, where Violet begs Klaus to kiss her so Count Olaf won’t be her first kiss. I have no shame when it come to the “I want my brother to be my first” trope— let the record reflect that I think it should be mandatory to include it in every single incest fic. She wants to counter the nonconsensual vileness of Olaf’s touch with the memory of someone she loves holding her, and there isn’t anyone she loves or trusts as much as Klaus.

Her tears, to her unbearable shame, were not for the plight of her poor sister Sunny, tied up and hanging in a cage that looked structurally unsound and incredibly drafty. They were not for Klaus … They were, in fact, for herself.

If this isn’t Peak Violet lol noticing the cage is structurally unsound. She actually feels guilty that she’s crying for herself—can you imagine? She berates herself for being selfish, for agonizing only 50% over her siblings’ mortal peril and the other 50% over how her first kiss—the thing that every girl fantasizes about from the age of, like, four—is going to be with a serial murderer who if you read between the lines is clearly depicted as sexually repulsive?? (Neil Patrick Harris playing Count Olaf in the Netflix series kind of throws a wrench in the “sexually repulsive” part of the equation, however.) So that’s how it starts, Klaus kisses her to help a sister out. Only problem is, FEELINGS are precipitated. Klaus does what he does best, which is rationalize. It’s all hormones, he decides:

There were very few people he came into regular contact with, at least now, that he found pleasing to look at. Nevertheless, he felt a bit sick, sometimes, because Violet would catch him looking, and their eyes would meet for one terrifying moment, and then she would look away first.

Klaus and Violet are such a seamless team that they can exchange thoughts with a glance, which means it’s not like he can hide it when he’s checking out her slammin’ body. This is the part where they’re obviously hot for each other and repressing it. God how do these kids even manage to function when there is SO. MUCH. UST. Here is when it hits him like a thunderclap that he’s in love with her—Klaus being Klaus, of course he frames it as the difference between “children’s cartoons” vs. “encyclopedia entries that begin with the letter I”

He didn’t dare think about how long it had been since he’d truly walked on solid ground.

Because if he loves Violet that way, the wrongdirtybad way, then he has to reevaluate everything he believes in. Meanwhile the two of them have been co-parenting for so long that:

Klaus wondered if Sunny would remember their parents, when she was older. Some base, sinful part of his mind wondered if she would remember no mother but Violet, no father but himself.

He jerks awake from a nightmare and she’s immediately there to comfort him, and he’s pressing kisses into her hair and then they’re kissing for real OH MY GOD i’m shrieking incoherently. You know what else I am 1000% here for? MASTURBATING IN THE DARK WHEN YOU THINK THE OTHER PERSON IS ASLEEP. Wow this fic actually makes Klaus’s near-sightedness germane to the plot, insomuch as he wishes he could see Violet’s face better as she’s having an orgasm. You know when else Klaus’s nearsightedness was germane to the plot? The Miserable Mill, which is possibly the shippiest of the 13 books. Here, I dare you to read this passage and tell me it does not deadass nail Lemony Snicket’s authorial tone, at once confiding and sardonic:

The elephant in question is nearly always a figurative one, and usually takes the form of something visual, such as a person with a very bad haircut or a cast around one leg. The elephant is not talked about out of politeness, or perhaps out of concern for the cast-wearing person’s feelings. Klaus and Violet, however, were dealing with a very different elephant, one that was not made of a single thing, a single event. In fact, it would be better to say that they were not forgetting a single elephant in the room, but a whole herd of smaller, miniature elephants, that ran and trumpeted and played fun, tiny elephant games all across the room. The elephants, in this case, were having a great deal more fun than Klaus and Violet were. They were made of thoughts, feelings, and strongest of all, memories. One for the warmth in Violet’s chest each time Klaus smiled at her, one for each time Klaus had awoken from a nightmare to find Violet at his bedside, one for how well they fit together in the trundle bed that had been wheeled into the closet, Sunny tucked between them.

Jesus Christ if they would just bone already everything would be hunky dory. Jk it wouldn’t. The three of them are currently living in Justice Strauss’s closet while the paperwork goes through for Violet’s emancipation.

Before all of this (though what “all of this” was, he wasn’t sure), she hadn’t ever hesitated to sit close to him, to rest a hand on his leg from time to time, lean on his shoulder as they read a book together. She was hesitating now because the meaning behind the action would be different, now. She was afraid to be too close to him, because now it was wrong, and if they tried to make it normal, it meant they were wrong.

“I don’t,” he took another deep, deep breath, “I don’t think this is going to go away.”

“I love you,” she said, sighed it despondently against his shoulder, as though she were confessing some terrible crime.

After all the shit the universe has put these two cinnamon rolls through, it’s plain enough that their love is the purest thing about them!!! It’s the world that’s broken, not Violet and Klaus. Also, how poignant is that line “I don’t think this is going to go away”? Because you can be sure they’ve tried everything to make it go away, and have been singularly unsuccessful.

“I’m so glad it’s you,” she sighed, and then she gave a surprised cry that turned into a soft, almost pleading moan.

Yessss they finally have sex. Plus, Count Olaf dies offstage:

He’d been dead for a while – “A harpoon gun, really?”, and Jacquelyn had pictures that Klaus didn’t look at but Violet did, because she had to know, and Klaus trusted her eyes.

So as soon as Jacquelyn and Justice Strauss wander away from the dinner table Sunny casually asks her siblings when they’re planning to get married. Dead silence. Sunny is a perceptive child, and the after-sex glow must have lit Violet and Klaus up like beacons. The two of them are stammering nonsense like “it’s illegal” and Sunny’s rejoinder is along the lines of, “Olaf’s machinations were perfectly legal so maybe we shouldn’t repose too much confidence in what is clearly a rotten edifice.” PREACH SUNNY. This is exactly how I headcanon Sunny would react to her siblings consummating their relationship tbh: eminently sensibly. Her #1 priority is not losing either one of them. Klaus/Violet being romantically involved would accomplish that objective admirably. Anyway Justice Strauss comes through with the paperwork and Klaus reads it three times to ensure it’s all right and tight, legally speaking, which it is. Man it’s nice to see an adult not let them down for once in their lives. Now they’re free to move to a new town where no one knows they’re related, where they can start over as a family. Their only regret (other than saying goodbye to their friends) is having to bury all their burning questions about their parents’ past:

Klaus wants so, so badly to uncover the secrets of the spyglass, of VFD and everything their parents never told them, but Violet looks at him with sad, sad eyes and says, “I don’t think this is going to go away”.

#violet x klaus #fic rec #Baudelairecest #tw: incest

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e-namor-a · 6 years

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Masked Pt. VIII

Ok so this fic keeps fucking growing. I swear to God, it’s ridiculous lmao. This entire thing was originally something like 10k but I split it up into two sections cuz I thought it was too long? This wraps up this arc and then we get to the part I wrote 10 fucking months ago and by far my favorite part of this entire thing. Anyway... Here we go folks CW: death, murder, self harm, (that’s all i think) pt. i/ pt. ii/ pt. iii/ pt. iv/ pt. v/ pt. vi/ pt. vii

You were so fucking overwhelmed. You couldn’t figure out what you were feeling. You knew you were livid, absolutely furious. You could taste it in the pit of your belly. It had been a year and finally, you had seen him. And it had been a fucking disaster. Now, all you wanted to do now was hit something, or get blackout drunk again.

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in Daniel’s waiting room. You were freezing your ass off, goddamn air conditioning and goddamn cocktail dress, but you knew if you had headed to your apartment you would’ve changed and gone to your favorite bar, gotten drunk off your ass and ended up in someone's bed. You had promised Tony you would try harder, and you were going to do your best to keep your promise. So there you were, sitting in his waiting room, peeling the label off the water bottle you had gotten from the mini-fridge next to you. You were starting to zone out, drifting in and out of memories that had started to play in your mind since your encounter with James. You were so in your head, you kicked instinctively, barely missing, when Daniel had crouched down in front of and placed his hand on yours. “Holy shit.” Daniel breathily laughed, flat on his ass, his glasses askew, green eyes wide. “Jesus Christ. It’s instinct. Fuck. I’m sorry Daniel,” you mumbled, having snapped up in your seat and pressed your fingers to your mouth in horror of what you had done. “Y/N, hon, it wasn’t your fault. I spooked you. Considering your training, I think that it’s an understandable reaction. Let’s go into my office and talk, yeah?” Daniel had stood up and extended his hand out to you. You stared at his outstretched hand, wanting to grab it but unable to do so. So instead you clasped your hands around the water bottle and stood up, walking forward into Daniel’s office. You tried to avoid touching people when sober. It made you feel antsy.

You walked into the blue office, and sat in your favorite red velvet chair, facing the door, back to wall, the perfect vantage point and tucked your legs under you smoothing your short dress down over your thighs. You started picking at the hem automatically, thigh twitching. You knew the smart thing was to come talk to Daniel, but fuck if you didn’t just want to run out instead. Staying meant talking about James, something that you had resolutely avoided for months. Daniel had no clue James existed. You had made sure to never even insinuate that you had once been in a relationship. “So, Y/N, as happy as I am to see you, what brings you here? I gather something bad to bring you in on a day you’re not scheduled.” Daniel had seated himself across from you, his back against a big window overlooking the city skyline. “So what happened? Did your nightmares get worse? Are you sleeping less?” You had started to fidget more intensely. You knew you would have to open your mouth to speak but you didn’t know if you were ready. You had shared your past: your mother, your sister, your father and your upbringing, your friendship with Tony. It had taken time, a lot of prodding and some horrible nights but you had managed to spill as much as you could. You trusted Daniel as much as you possibly could, everything considering.

There were only a few things you had kept entirely hidden, your relationship with James, your missions and the death of your father. You had never shared that last one with anyone. As far as you knew, only you, your handler and about 5 other agents knew the truth of what had happened. It was a secret you guarded even closer than the death of your family. It was the final nail in the coffin of who you were. For the most part, you refused to even acknowledge what happened.

But now you had to tell Daniel those secrets. They had to come out because you promised Tony and you wanted something more and you had run into James and you were spiraling quickly. You sighed deeply, letting the breath out steadily before you began, “I had a therapist before you. I saw her for a while. I started after I took on a deep undercover off-the-books mission. I thought I was ready, that it would be some sort of closure for me, you know?” You took another deep breath, letting it out steadily, steeling yourself, “But it wasn’t. It was the hardest mission I had ever been on and it took a lot out of me. I came back a shell of myself. I was just going through the motions”, you swallowed hard. Memories you hadn’t shared with Daniel, were bubbling under your lips, desperate to escape.

You shifted, trying to alleviate some anxiousness, your legs were tucked next to you, arm crossed over your chest. “My… my partner… well, he didn’t really notice what was going on with me. He had his own issues and his work was really taxing, and he had horrible mental scars and I was hiding what was going on too well. He just… didn’t notice. We kind of ended up out of sync, and it really affected our… relationship. So I ended up in therapy.” You scratched the back of your neck, hiding as much of your face as you could from Daniel. You felt overexposed and you hated it. “Can I ask what the mission was? Are you allowed to tell me?” Daniel looked at you, eyes unreadable. “It’s ok if you can’t. Remember you set the boundaries here, Y/N. You’re in charge. You shook your head, you had to tell him but you couldn’t get the words out. They wouldn’t come out. Daniel smiled gently and opened his mouth to continue but you blurted out the answer, vomiting the words, “I was sent to kill my father’s second in command. But the intel I was given was dated. He knew who I was. He knew my story. He knew I was coming and rather than face me or the people who had sent me, he decided death was preferable. I found his body. But before that, I found the bodies of his two children, a small boy, and his teenage daughter. The girl looked like my sister and I was instantly shoved into my past. Into what I did. “

“Thank you for answering. Was there something else?”, Daniel asked softly. You shook your head emphatically, biting your lip so hard you thought you’d draw blood. “Ok, that’s fine. So, you were in a relationship? Was it a long one?”, Daniel asked kindly. “Several years. I thought it would be for the rest of my life.” “What happened?”

You squirmed internally as you tried to figure out what to do. Logically, you should tell him. Daniel should know. But the last time you had trusted this way, you had been betrayed twice. Tony was counting on you, you were counting on you. You wanted more and it was time to put up or shut up.

“He cheated on me”, you blurted out. You cringed. It still hurt like a fresh wound. You shook your head, tugging harshly on a strand of hair before continuing, “From what I’ve pieced together, it started soon after I started going to see her. I had had to leave for several months on a mission and I think that that’s when they started getting closer to each other. I kept leaving for work and that coupled with therapy and the stress of both, it was too much. I pushed him to her and he cheated.”

You had ripped the seam in your dress and were picking at the loose thread. “Her name was Mariah. She was a pretty bubbly blonde. Always wore these ridiculous heels. Rain, shine, snow, always wearing these giant heels. I’ve managed to make myself almost forget what she looks like but I’ll never forget those fucking heels. I can still hear them clicking down my fucking hallway. We used to bond over how put together she was, nails done, hair nice, full face of makeup and designer clothes. We’d laugh because I was so tired all the time and my put together was a little chapstick, maybe some mascara if I could handle it.” You let out a dry chuckle, “Christ.” The loose thread had gotten longer, you were quickly unraveling the entire hem. You couldn’t find it in you to care. It was a beautiful dress, worth a lot of money but you just didn’t care. You felt the need to destroy something. “I left the city the night I caught him balls deep in her. Ran for a while until I called Tony and ended up back here. I didn’t want to stay, I still don’t. But Tony made me promise him I would stay, and here I am. Tony’s all I got,” you said tiredly. “I went to go check on her one time. I was pretty drunk, it was the only way that I could face her after everything. I’m still pretty deadly even then. I was trained very well. I went to her office but she wasn’t there. Asked around and found out she had left abruptly a month or two after I did. Just disappeared, no trace.” You let an empty smile grow on your face, “I think Natasha had something to do with it. I can’t be sure but I sent her a big bottle of vodka and a thank you card anyway. I’m just upset I didn’t get to her first. I guess it’s good I didn’t.” You glanced up to see Daniel’s eyes widen briefly as he listened to you talk. You were struck by an absurd desire to giggle because despite him being a psychiatrist for intelligence operatives from a myriad of agencies including S.H.I.E.L.D., police and even soldiers, you still managed to shock him. Even if it was just a little.

“Well, what a bitch. I’m also glad you didn’t get to her first,” Daniel let out a small grin, pushing up his glasses, thoroughly surprising you, “I can imagine it would’ve been messy. Thank you for sharing. I sincerely appreciate it. I have to ask, why are you telling me this Y/N? I appreciate your forthcomingness but what brought it on?” You had a small pile of pulled apart thread on your exposed leg from the dress you were methodically destroying. You couldn’t help it. You didn’t care. You were just so full and empty and just so so fucking tired. “I went on a mission before I started seeing Mariah. It had been set in motion when I turned 15 and the final pieces just happened to fall into place about two years into my relationship. I was given 12 hours heads up and flown out that same night. I knew the mission was coming, I had been instrumental in its planning and a large part of my undercover work was tied to it. I thought I was ready. But I wasn’t.” You had started to cry, unable to stop it as you were sucked into the memory. Your vision had fish-bowled, you could hear the blood pound in your ears, the room suddenly feeling freezing cold. “I made a promise to my mother and my sister when I buried them that I would finish what they started. That I would avenge them and see my fathers empire in ruins. I would destroy it brick by brick. I had nursed that promise deep down where no one would see it and I thought that I was ready to end it that night I got shipped out. I thought I would be able to do it, quick, clean and efficient just like I was taught. But I couldn’t do it.” You knit your fingers into your hair and tugged, trying to anchor yourself. To not let yourself go too far into your memory.

“I knew it the second I stepped into my mothers old garden. The plants she took such loving care were all dead. Her fountain had been trashed. The hand painted stone pathway had been trampled on and broken. It had all been destroyed. He had let it all be destroyed. I couldn’t do it,”you shook your head harshly, “I just couldn’t let him get away with it.”

“I found him in the dining room. It was like stepping back in time. He appeared older, white peppered through his hair, wrinkles crinkling his skin, but despite that everything looked the same. Our photographs were still hanging up. The wooden table still gleamed from its fresh polish. The smell of gardenias from the vase in the center of the table still hung in the humid air. Nothing had changed.” You could see it playing out in front you, Daniel had all but disappeared into the corner of your mind. “He heard me before I had made my way to him. He told me he’d been waiting for me and asked me if I liked how my mothers garden looked, he had done it just for me. I held the blade of my knife to the base of his throat pushed and told him to stand up. He just laughed and did what I told him to. I took him outside to the garden. He had to pay. He talked the whole way there, telling me about how the family business was, and what he had been up to, he was so fucking relaxed.” You had started tugging harder at your hair as tears streamed down your face. You needed something to distract you from what you were telling Daniel. You could hear him calling you, trying to get you out of your head but it had to come out. It had to be heard. It had to come out. “I took him to the garden and I just snapped. I made sure he couldn’t walk away and then I made sure he was hurting. I did everything I had been trained to do but I couldn’t get him to stop smiling at me. I needed him to stop so I shot him. I sat down in front of him and watched as he started bleeding out. I sat there watching as he started laughing. There was blood coming out of his mouth as he told me that I had finally fulfilled my destiny. I started to shake my head to deny it but he coughed up some blood and asked me how I could doubt myself. Just look at where I had ended up. Besides, it was fitting, having it all end where it had started, in the garden. Then he looked me dead in the eye and smiled. He told me how proud of me he was. He told me he loved me and that he proud he was that I was finally who he had created me to be, and then he died. Those were his last words.” You nibbled on your lip as you wiped your eyes, exhaling hard through your nose. “I sat there watching him until finally I walked back to the house and set it on fire like I had been instructed to. I watched it burn down, all the pictures, the clothes, the books, the memories. I watched them turn to ash sitting next to my father's corpse. I left the body there for pick up and came back stateside,” you let out a hitching sigh, remembering how you had wanted to run in and grab a picture of the three of you. Something to remember how it used to be. You hadn’t been allowed to, you knew better than to disobey orders. Failure was unacceptable.

“I started seeing Mariah a while after that. All the missions I kept going on, they were me cleaning up loose ends. I made a promise. I would see it through to the end.” You looked up and stared at Daniel in the eye for the first time ever. He knew your entire story now. No more secrets and you felt hollow at the realization. You had been clinging to your secrets for years and now there was nothing left. “Christ Y/N.”, Daniel blinked at you, his eyes wide, “That’s a lot. Before I start, how are you feeling? You made a lot of progress today by letting out your secrets and I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Can I get you anything?” You shook your head, smiling brittlely, “I don’t know how I feel. Drained I guess.” A little dizzy, sleepy enough to sleep forever, and about to pass out were way more accurate, but you wouldn’t let Daniel know. You were unbreakable, anything less was unacceptable. “That doesn’t surprise me, to be frank. Please just let me know if you change your mind, or if you need a break ok? I have a lot to say but I’ll try to keep it brief. Y/N you are an incredibly complex human, but I can without a doubt tell you that you’re suffering from major depression, anxiety, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Not only that but you have told yourself over and over that you are to blame for every shitty thing that’s happened in your life and it has paved the way for every single decision you’ve made. You’ve crucified yourself for making a decision as a child when in reality you weren’t given any choice. You’ve accepted that the things your father said as true and it breaks my heart.” You felt the urge to cry, you couldn’t figure out why but you wanted to cry. “You’ve lived all these years with this horrific trauma that started when you were just a child and I don’t know how you did it but I’m so proud of you. You are strong and you are a fighter and you are a goddamn survivor. I am so fucking proud of you Y/N. You came here months ago and did the best you could and you’ve opened up to me in a way that you never had to anyone. I’m honored and I’m so proud of you.” You started crying. It wasn’t like before where you had cried out of painful memories, it was a softer crying meant to soothe. You were tense but you could feel a small part of yourself start to mend. It was difficult though, an overwhelming part of you was telling you that you were behaving unacceptably. You deserved what had happened. You were what your father had created you to be. “Your father was a garbage human being who deserved a crueler fate. He wasn’t like that because of anything you did. And you did nothing to deserve the treatment you got. You know why? Because he was doing it before you even existed. And you know what else? Him picking you was not your fault. You were worried for your family, that was natural, that was normal. It was an ok reaction. Everything was on him.” Deep down inside, a small part of you rejoiced. You had had to hear these words for so long form someone. It helped you in ways you couldn’t describe. But just as quickly, another part of you wanted to smother that joy. It kept telling you that Daniel was lying. “I know your conflicted over what I’m saying, and I wish I could get rid of the voice that’s telling you I'm lying but I can’t. You have to do that. You have to forgive yourself. No one but you can do that. Therapy isn’t a walk in the park. It’s a difficult and complex journey. It takes time and it’s fucking hard. I won’t lie to you. It’ll be one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. But I swear to you on my life, it’ll be worth it.” You sniffled, feeling even more exhausted, eyes drooping, and changed the subject. Daniel was giving you too much. Instead, you looked at your hands, fiddling with your fingertips and said, “I saw him in the park today. My… partner… my boyfr- … James. I saw him today and he looked great. He was smiling and he was there with a woman. She was beautiful. She had this big gorgeous dark curly hair, her skin looked soft and smooth glowing in the sun against her white dress. She looked so vibrant and so full of life and happiness. They were perfect together. He was holding her and she was touching him and they looked so right, standing next to each other. And I got so angry.” Abruptly, you were on your feet. The small pile of threads falling to the ground. You were unable to stay still, a sudden explosion of emotion rocking you. “I was so furiously angry. I was a mess and hurting and there he was with another woman again. I’m fucking drowning and he’s fine! I gave him everything I could. I did everything I could! But it wasn’t enough. And then he touched me. He just touched me and instead of feeling repulsed, my skin felt warm and I didn’t feel uneasy,” you clenched your fists frustratedly. “And then he called me beloved.” You spat out. “He called me beloved and he told me Mariah didn’t mean anything and that he missed me. And I could feel myself falling. I love him so much despite everything and I had wanted to hear those words for months now. But I wasn’t enough! He hurt me! He had me and I was trying and it wasn’t enough for him, I wasn’t enough for him even at my very best and he picked her and she didn’t mean anything. I’m worth less than that to him. I mean less than her. I gave him everything I could. And I wasn’t enough. Why wasn’t it enough? Why?” And you were standing there, panting heavily, hands clutching your hair and just pulling with all your strength because you were so overwhelmed. You hadn’t been enough and you were never going to be enough for James. You were the monster your father made you be. You had blood on your hands in a way that James never would. You were the monster he always feared he was. Of course, you deserved what you got. How stupid could you be? “Y/N, please calm down. Please sit. I’m going to touch you ok?”, Daniel said firmly. You felt his hands on your forearm as he reached up to untangle your hair from your hands. He gently guided you to your favorite chair and sat down on the coffee table in front of you. “Y/N, none of what that man did was your fault. I know. I know you don’t believe me. But I promise that what he did was for his own reasons and his own shortcomings. Not yours. You were just a child. Nothing you could have ever done merited what happened to you. And I cannot stress this enough, you are worthy. You are worth more than you can imagine, and your best is more than enough. I know it with every fiber of my being. I haven’t lied to you, and I won’t start now, so you need to trust me when I say that none of what happened was your fault. You’ve been dealt with some shitty cards but that wasn’t your fault.” You burst into tears. You were so tired of fighting yourself and your past. You didn’t want it anymore. You felt Daniel’s arms wrap around you holding you tightly. You sobbed because it all hurt. Everything hurt. You mourned for your failed love, and your past, and all the horrible things you had endured. You cried for the little girl you had been, who had never been comforted, loved, cherished. You cried every tear she never could, you cried for her.

You had cried before but this time, it was different. With each tear you let out, you felt better. Your tears were washing out your wounds, leaving them clean so that you could finally start to heal. It still hurt, and you suspected it always would, but for the first time ever you didn’t feel the same. The anguish had subsided, the burdens you carried had lessened.

Slowly you stilled. You felt hollowed out and light as a feather. There was an extremely long road ahead but for the first time, you could see a light at the end of it. You pulled out of Daniel’s embrace and looked up at him. “How are you feeling? Better?”, Daniel asked quietly. You nodded, unable to speak. “Ok, Y/N,” he started seriously, “I’m writing you a prescription for some anti-depressives and anxiety medication. I want you to start taking those in addition to seeing me. You made progress today, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for telling me everything you’ve told me. I recommend you going home and doing your best to practice some self-care.” He smiled brightly at you as you made your way towards the door. He pulled you in for a short hug and whispered in your ear, “I’m so proud of you.”

You made your way to the lobby and out into the warm evening air fully intending on going back to your apartment, but somehow ending up in the park where you had seen James earlier. You were hugging yourself, walking slowly and completely lost in your thoughts, processing what Daniel had said and figuring out what you were feeling. You detoured to the park where you had seen James and thought about him. About how you felt and everything that had happened and how you were seeing it all in a different light.

And you realized you were angry. You were furious beyond belief because for the first time you were seeing just how bad James had treated you. You had accepted it, and taken what little was offered because you thought that was all that you were worth, but with Daniel’s words ringing in your ears and settling into your bones you knew better. He had left you to deal with everything alone. For years, even before Mariah, you had believed that you deserved the distance that he had put between the two of you, deserved it because of the horrors you had committed but the truth was that it was all James’ fault. You were doing your best to reach out to him despite your limitations, you could see that now. You had tried and fought and worked for your relationship, and he had not. He had stood by and judged you for the little progress you had been able to make, all while not making any himself. And then he had the audacity to cheat on you. Because you were too much. He had told you that you were too much.

What bullshit. You bit back a scream of rage at your realization. You had done the best you could. You had given everything you could give. And it was enough. It was good enough. You were beating yourself up over this and he didn’t care then and he clearly didn’t care now. First Mariah, and then the other woman at the park. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

And then, you were walking to your apartment. You knew you should stay in and take a bath, eat some deliciously unhealthy food, and binge some Netflix but you also knew you weren’t going to do that. You were going out. You were going to truly enjoy yourself and do your best to feel free.

TAG LIST: THIS IS STILL OPEN! SHOOT ME A MESSAGE IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED. ALSO FOR @awinterloveruniverse @goldenstateof @fay-fighter I can’t tag you in it idk why? And lastly, if anyone knows who is/was @wonderlustqueen19 @marvelssecretmistress and @violence-and-velvet could you please lemme know? Thank you! @susmita121 @photography-to-all @the-alpha-queen @awinterloveuniverse @im-a-motherfuckin-mermaid @risinghero @caaaaaaarrrrrlll @glittercoveredsouls @buckybabybaby @justreadingfics @flowerchildqueenlovely @westfields-maple @ly--canthrope @learisa @unevenpages @yo-yo-bro-bro @ufffg @geeksareunique @westfields-maple @chrys-1029 @38leticia @sicparvismagnaxi @coal000 @itsagentromanoff @violentlybarnes @fay-fighter @wanderlustqueen19 @bbadbitchh @goldenstateof @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @marvelssecretmistress @lovemesomepietro @mia-at-work @diinofayce @alitav99 @violence-and-velvet @void-imaginations @xx-raven @aeteriadoelaveneder @sergeipoluninfans @marvel-lously @honey-bee-holly @valkyeries @lovemesomepietro

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #james bucky barnes #james barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #james barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #masked

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r-o-se · 7 years

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A bit less than 101 comment summary abt produce 101 season 2 ep 6 [watch it here]

Noone even reads those anymore but I like doing them so you know what fuck it lol

1. Omg this subber adds full names and ent companies I’m in love theyre just showing the rankings rn

2. The benefit is now 10k for the team that gets 1st place by individual points but the 1st place trainees for each category is 100 fucking 000

3. The position songs are

a. RAP- Zico – Boys and Girls // iKON – Rhythm Ta // SMTM – I’m not the person you used to know // Mino – Fear

b. VOCAL – BoA – Amazing Kiss // SJung Seunghwan – If it was you // Blackpink – Playing with Fire // BTS – Spring day // I.O.I – Downpour

c. DANCE – Ed Sheeran – Shape of You // Flo Rida – Right Round // Jason Derulo – Get Ugly // NSync – POP

4. Good luck kiddos the choosing is hidden so they won’t see who chose what before they’ve chosen themselves

5. Seungwoo just dragged my baby Hyunbin through mud and said he doesn’t wanna be in a dance team with him again lol I understand him fully though aahahahahha

6. Samuel just said he’s a bit afraid of Jihoon so he wants to avoid him but they’re in the same team again aaaaaaahahahhahaha THIS IS SO CUTEE

7. Hyungseob didn’t want eigher but GET FUCKED AAHAHAH ALL HIGH RANKED DANCERS ARE IN GET UGLY SEUNGWOO AND DANIEL AND HYUNGSEOB AND JIHOON AND SAMUEL

8. PLAYING WITH FIRE TEAM AKA REN DAEHWI SEWOON ANDDDDDDDD BAEKHO

9. FUCKING GOD DAEHWIS FACE WHEN BAEKHO WENT INTO THE PLAYING WITH FIRE TEAM AHAHA LIL KID SO SCARED

10. Hyunbin is up and BoA is like…. Bro u alright?? U sure about this?

11. BOI IS GONNA SING AAHAHAH FUCK DUMBO ITS IOI DOWNPOUR

12. Big Woojin was the last to choose Get Ugly and closes it goddamn

13. Gunhees mouth opens so wide holy shit

14. ALL VOCAL POSITIONS GOT TAKEN BEFORE WOODAM COULD CHOOSE IM SO FUCKING DEPRESSED THIS IS SO SAD IM SO SORRY BABY BABY HES CRYING THIS IS SO DEPRESSING

15. Fuck this show I’m so so sad how could they do this to Woodam

16. Everyone are looking forward to Playing with Fire Team bc they all know how arranging music works

17. Baekho: Disagrees w Sewoon

Mnet: *tense aggressive music* *montage of angry eyed Baekho* *red filter*

18. This team has troubles with agreeing on the style of the stage

19. IM A BOY YOU ARE A GIRL IM A BOY BUT YOU ARE A GIRL

20. This stage has Alpaca Youngmin, BNM Donghyun and Dongbin the crybaby

21. But it looks like theyre having disagreements too RIP

22. Dongbin doesn’t even know how to rap baby why did you go there someone save Youngmin

23. JINWOOS TEAM YE BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

24. Mnet is tryna pit Jinwoo and Seongri againste eachother aahahah fuck off anyways Seongri is the center

25. Kim Yehyeon just gave everyone a full course in music theory and composition WELL FUCKING DONE DUDE YOU GOT MY RESPECT

26. Save Yongguk who others haven’t even noticed before I NOTICED U I STILL LOVE U IM A PESSIMIST TOO WE CAN BE NEGATIVE TOGETHER

27. This team works so well and sweet together I love it

28. Shape of you team now with Noh Taehyun and oldie tiptoes Seongwoo and Namhyung and Justin and others

29. Taehyun doesn’t wanna teach anyone because he hates teaching but good fucking luck with thet aahahah

30. They’re doing expressions to figure out the leader its so EMBARRASSING AAHAH AWWW

31. JUSTIN YOURE 15 FUCCKING STOP WHAT THE HELLL IS THAT FACE

32. TAEHYUN IS CENTER AND LEADER U DESERVE IT BOYO HE STARTS CHOREOGRAPHING RIGHT AWAY AND HES SO FASTTT DANCE GOD

33. JR TEAM

34. Baby was right away like ‘I don’t think I can be center so forget me’ but Guanlin and Moonbok want the position so that’s a thing

35. Jr thinks Guanlin fits the center and eventho Moonbok wanted the position too he didn’t say anything because he wants to ggive others a chance ngl I really have started to like Moonbok hes friendly and not as annoying as I thought before

36. ITS JINWOOS TEAMMMMM MY BOY LOOKIN FINE AS HELLLL DOIN DUMB POSES

37. Everyone are shook while practicing cause their harmonies are so gooddd

38. Kim Yongguk is a baby with low self esteem but he improved a loootttt I’m PROUD HE GOT PRAISED BY SEOKHOON

39. During the actual concert BoA is in Japan doing a concert so she’s gonna oversee everyone rn which is really nice of her

40. EVEN BOA PRAISED YONGGUK IM SO PROUD

41. Ok but they aren’t giving the others screentime at all which is a bit sad IDK I WANNA SEE OTHERS TOO

42. THE OTHER TEAM BOYS ARE CHEERING FOR EACHOTHER THIS IS SO CUTEEEE

43. Jinwoo just sitting there being pretty is enough to make my day ngl AND HIS VOICEEEE

44. ‘your body will react now’ my what anyways its right round time

45. Cheetah is so adorable this season anyways this stage is LIT AND DAEHWI IMMITATING THEM IS CUTE AS FUCK AND THEYRE SYNCED AS HELLLLL

46. They keep filming one girl in the audience I stg she gets more screentime than most trainees

47. If Hwiseung and Byunmin get eliminated I’m gonna be Real Fuckin Sad

48. Eunki is the leader and wants to be the new Bang Bang team

49. Besides him, the team has Haknyeon plus Hwiseung and Hwanoong and K-Tiger Hyunmin and some others as well, Hwanoong is the center which makes Haknyeon salty ripppp

50. Eunki has a death wish I stg he picks on Haknyeon and obvi Mnet grasped onto it and bam evil edit eventho Eunki has a reason to pick, Haknyeon is kind of behind on the choreo eventho he has a point since he doesn’t have a big part

51. Eunki and Haknyeon talked it out I’m glad and everything goes really well and smoothly on the practice stage IM SO HAPPY

52. THE PERFORMANCE HAS SUCH GOOD ENERGYYYY also they did scorption dance but didn’t fully show it?? Mnet the fuck

53. HYUNMIN IS SO LIT I LOVE HIM AND HAKNYEON GOT TO DO KISSY FACES AT THE CAMERAAAAA

54. Boys and girls Donnghyunnnnnnn is a CUTIE CUTIE but bnm kids are worried about the high standards everyone have for them goddamnit Dongbin poor baby

55. BIG WOOJIN WENT AND HELPED THEIR TEAM WITH DONGBIN TOO BABYYYYYY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

56. DAEHWI IS SO CUTE JAMMING ALONGGGG THEIR STAGE IS SO GOOD I LOVE ITTTTT

57. Kinda sad that they don’t have the iconic IM A BOY YOU ARE A GIRL IM A BOY BUT YOU ARE A GIRL chorus but it’s the stage itself is good and DONGBIN IS STILL ALIVE AND SMILING AND DONGHYUN IS SO GORGEOUSSSSS FUCKKKKKK AND YOUNGMIN IS FUCKING OWNING IT I LOVE HIM

58. A trend that needs to stop: Leaders blaming themselves for everything and apologizing for first place

59. SHAPE OF YOU TEAM YOOO BOYYYYYYYYYY IM LOOKING FOWARD TO THIS HARD eventho I already saw the vid of how they got evil edited and screentime cut and whatnot

60. Oh nooooooo it’s a dance battle obvi Taehyun is out there fuckin KILLIN it best dancer in broduce I stg I LOVE HIMMMM everyone are thinking he will win first dance position

61. EUNKI AND PARK WOOJIN AND ONG KILLED IT TOOOO HOLY FUCKING SHIT

62. Their team has a loooot of small mistakes which makes me sad and yeah exactly as the vid said, they didn’t give them screentime and fucking cut out the killing part I’m so angry

63. THE CHOREO IS SO GOOD I LOVE NOH TAEHYUN SO MUCH THEY FILMED THE SYNCCED LINEUP STUFF FROM THE SIDE WHY ON EARTH WHY DOES MNET HATE THEIR GROUP

64. The crowd is shouting encore…. Is this why Mnet evil edited them…. Jesus fucking Christ I’m so angry

65. THE KIDS ARE SO HYPE ABOUT BEING CALLED FOR ENCORE THIS IS SO CUTEEEE TAEHYUN GOT FIRST HES SO SO WORTHY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE REALLY DESERVES IT

66. The others are still so happy for Taehyun this team has such good teamwork I’m cryin Mnet fuckin rudeeeee

67. MINO FEAR UP W MY BOYSSSSS JR MOONBOK GUANLIN KIM TAEMIN

68. Save Guanlin who can’t perform well in front of teachers I UNDERSTAND U BOO I GET IT AND HE GOT EVEN PRAISED BABYYY

69. Their entire team got pencils in their mouths CUTIESSS

70. Can’t believe Guanlin has two NU’EST guardians now god bless JR and Baekho BOA PRAISED HIS PRONOUNCIATION IM SO HAPPY I LOVE JR GOD BLESS NATIONS LEADER

71. Taemin has been a trainee for 5 years????? Holy shit SAVE THIS BOY I’M SAD

72. Moonbok made his rap for Hyunwoo bc he’s sad IM SAD TOO AAA

73. ALL OF THEIR RAPS ARE SO EMOTIONAL WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO GOOD IM SAD

74. NUEST ARE ALL LOOKIN SAD KAHI IS BORDERLINE CRYING BAEKHOS LIPS TREMBLING IM EMOOOOO AS FUUUCKKKKK

75. FUCKING DOGBIN BEING HOPELESS ABOUT NOT DEBUTING HYUNWOO IS IN THE CROWD CRYING AND MOONBOK IS BEING SAD THIS IS SO GOOD I LOVE THIS STAGE AAAAAAAAA

76. ITS JINWOOS TEAMMMMM MY BOY LOOKIN FINE AS HELLLL DOIN DUMB POSES

77. Everyone are shook while practicing cause their harmonies are so gooddd

78. Kim Yongguk is a baby with low self esteem but he improved a loootttt I’m PROUD HE GOT PRAISED BY SEOKHOON

79. During the actual concert BoA is in Japan doing a concert so she’s gonna oversee everyone rn which is really nice of her

80. EVEN BOA PRAISED YONGGUK IM SO PROUD

81. Ok but they aren’t giving the others screentime at all which is a bit sad IDK I WANNA SEE OTHERS TOO

82. THE OTHER TEAM BOYS ARE CHEERING FOR EACHOTHER THIS IS SO CUTEEEE

83. Jinwoo just sitting there being pretty is enough to make my day ngl AND HIS VOICEEEE

84. ‘your body will react now’ my what anyways its right round time

85. Its basically the exact same footage as before Haknyeon vs Eunki

86. Cheetah is so adorable this season anyways this stage is LIT AND DAEHWI IMMITATING THEM IS CUTE AS FUCK AND THEYRE SYNCED AS HELLLLL

87. They keep filming one girl in the audience I stg she gets more screentime than most trainees

88. If Hwiseung and Byunmin get eliminated I’m gonna be Real Fuckin Sad

89. ITS BLACKPINK STAGE TIME YE BOIIIIIIIIIIII It’s Baekho, Ren, Daehwi and Sewoon

90. They got some problems with Sewoon playing guitar but it all GOOD they got em solved

91. Ren got shades on lookin like the love child of Zion.T and Lady gaga

92. Daehwi just blowed some red god damn CONFETTI it looks GOOD AS HELL YOOO THAT BOY LOOKS FUCKING FINE HERE

93. Ren was last, Sewoon third, Baekho second and Daehwi first

94. Cant believe Sewoon and Daehwi got over their Baekhophobia tru character development

95. GET UGLY STAGE HOLY SHITTTT ALL THE POPULAR KIDS THERE

96. Danik my dude doin all sorts of handstand bboy things bruh I bet his arms look hella nice

97. THEY JUST CUT IT!! JUST LIKE THAT! NO FUCK

19 notes · View notes

tonygaskins · 7 years

Text

I struggle with finding the balance between giving what’s needed and giving everything. I’m starting to understand more why so many men say they want to be financially stable before marriage. When I got married I wasn’t that type of man so I never understood the mindset but now I’m realizing why that mindset is normal for good men.

As the head of the household I want to provide for my wife and kids. I find myself wanting to provide their wants as equally as much as I want to provide their needs. That can get expensive fast. It really sends you into a space of evaluation where you’re trying to determine what’s really important in life.

When it comes to the kids, my wife and I may have made some mistakes, but all parents do. None of us really know what we’re doing, we just do the best we know how to do. We have two sons, a 10 year old and a 3 year old. They go to a Christian private school and for the both of them it’s about $2,100/month. We aren’t wealthy and money doesn’t grow on trees but I compare my 10 year old to some of the 10 year old’s I meet from the public schools and it makes Christian private school seem necessary. There’s a big difference for us between a Christian private school and a private school. At our son’s school they instill Christ in the kids and into the lessons. They try to emulate Christ and the love He showed the world. To hear my son learn new scriptures every week really blesses my heart. When he was little and was struggling with his allergies and eczema issues he would miss about 3 days a week. To know that he could go to school with skin completely red and not be bullied for it really meant a lot to me. He would say things like “mommy, I’ll be ok. Jesus will heal me because my friends at school are praying for me.” To hear that from the mouth of a child really blessed me. When our oldest son started going to Christian private school we were on financial aid and we couldn’t even afford that. We had to borrow some months but it meant the world to my wife that he went to a good school. She felt that it made a huge difference in her life and I couldn’t argue with that because I went to public school from K-9th grade and my mindset and behavior was totally different from my wife as she went to private school from K-9th. Her foundation was totally different from mine.

Lil Tony at his Band Concert

As much as we want to believe that everything at home makes all the difference, that’s not true. A child’s environment outside of the home is very important. We’ve always prayed for what we wanted and we went after it. We couldn’t afford it but my wife’s faith made it happen. That same type of faith helped me grow my brand and business and our son’s don’t receive any financial aid today but God has made a way. Looking around and seeing so many other kids in our neighborhood going to public school and seeming to be pretty good kids, I’m torn many days. I say to myself “man I could be saving $20,000/year. If i put that on the market or invested that into my business it would turn into millions.” But then I remember how being in public school I started having sex early even though my parents were ministers. I started stealing and even went to jail in the 9th grade. I was cursing, stealing, fighting, and all kinds of stuff because even though I had good home training, many of the kids around me didn’t and that pressure was greater than my parents influence. I turned it around thanks to the grace of God, but I could be dead or in prison today if just one thing had gone wrong. So I’m brought back to the investment that we’re making for our kids to be in a Christian private school getting their foundation set in place. I also feel some guilt because some families can’t even afford $100/month for school and have no choice other than to put their child in the public school system. I’m sure some private school parents don’t care about that but it bothers me many days. I thought about this the other day and I realize that by the time our sons are ready for college we will have already paid a minimum of $252,000 for their schooling and it’ll probably be much higher than that. It’s crazy to think about it. It hurts and it feels good at the same time. It’s sad to think that there has been a system created to protect the kids of the “rich.” I also realize that faith and the desire to have more for your kids play a part in it because not all kids at good private schools come from the same social class.

This also leads me to the understanding that sometimes we can do more for our kids but we don’t just because it doesn’t make sense to us. We will make our kids suffer just because we suffered in the same way. We limit our kids just because there were limitations placed on us. If it wasn’t for my wife having been exposed to the private school system my sons would probably be in public school. I know you may not think there is a difference, but there is. I’ve seen both sides of it and the difference is very noticeable. So even if you can only get financial aid, it’s worth at least asking the schools before just deciding to put your kids through the public school system. At my son’s school he was doing work in the second or third grade that I literally could not do. I helped him ONCE with his homework and it’s the only D he’s gotten since being in school. My wife can do all of his work of course because her education foundation was much different than mine. Because of her education my son earns straight A’s because she can teach him even what his teachers can’t teach him. Grant it, they both are also naturally smart.

I’m left to the thought that maybe this is the way to go in this day and time. Although it’s a sacrifice and paying $2k/month for school is very hard to do, I see a big difference and it would break my heart to give my sons less than the best if there is a way I can make it happen.

To throw in a little note for those of you who are upset right now and saying “yeah that all sounds good and I’m glad your sons can go to private school but that’s not the case for me because it’s just not affordable, not even with financial aid.” I will say, by having a deep desire to give my sons more than what was afford to me it pushed me to new levels in my life. I don’t have a college degree. I don’t have a mentor. I don’t have any full-time staff. I’ve started 8 companies and created over 40 streams of income, many you have no idea about, all because I wanted to be in a position to give them more. My point is that there is a way to make it happen if you really want to make it happen. Don’t sell yourself short before you’ve tapped into every possible resource and option. Sometimes just pleading with the school and asking them to give you a chance may do it!

Now, to setting my family up for success. This is a calling that many men accept and it is no easy thing. Many women have accepted the same calling out of necessity. I’m investing in my gifts and it changed our lives greatly. I would spend every free dime investing in myself so that I could yield a return. I knew that I was sowing on good ground and that a harvest would come. There was a 6 year stretch that I went from earning $20,000 a year to $500k a year. My faith, my hopes, my desires, and my love for God and my family pushed me on that journey. This fuel in me is pushing me to become a Billionaire one day. I don’t know how it will happen but I didn’t know how $100k/year would happen either. I just trust God and keep working on myself and investing in my gifts. Because I did it and I know it works it has lead me to invest in my family at any cost.

What I want you to understand is that these investments aren’t from an endless supply of money. There are many times that I spend our last dime to make an investment in my wife or our sons or myself. I don’t think scarcely. I think abundantly. My oldest son says he wants to be a professional soccer player. So I invest in club soccer each year, it’s around $2k right now and he’s 10 so I know that will grow to $5k and then $10k when you include all the flights and hotel stays that await us. Just to be on the team is $1,200. Then the uniform is $250. Then some tournaments we have to pay extra. Then some tournaments are 1-2 nights and we have to spend travel money and $200-$250/night on a hotel room. It gets expensive. Many families are swimming in credit card debt investing in their kids. This summer my son is going to an overnight camp at IMG Academy in Bradenton, FL. This camp cost $2k for ONE week! It is absolutely crazy to me, but I’m doing it because I don’t want any other child to have any advantages over him. When he is grown, even if he doesn’t play a day as a pro soccer player I want him to look back and know that we invested in him and gave him every chance to be successful. Outside of those camps he’s going to two other camps. One was about $600 total and the other will be about $400 total. I want to cry just thinking about the fact that his younger brother will have to be afforded the same opportunities. So this summer alone another $3,000 is being invested into my son’s soccer dreams. I probably won’t do this every summer unless I see that it was really worth it. So here you have it, just for my oldest son I’m looking at an investment of $15,000 a year with school and soccer. It’s insane to think about but I’m painting a picture of how our world has separated us by how much money we earn. What we spend is small for some people. These opportunities are not afforded to everyone. I do believe if you want it bad enough you can find a way but it won’t just fall in your lap unless you win the lottery or find a sponsor. I just understand that I’m no one special. I’m just another child of God who has enough to believe that I can have the best this life has to offer.

I’m growing now and learning more about “smart money.” I’m learning that all the designer shoes, clothes, and cars aren’t important. The investments in our gifts and our lives are most important. I’m spending money differently now.

Those investments for our sons will have a return so that’s why I’m calling it an investment. It’s more than what I have to do and it’s not normal. It could be seen as borderline crazy. But I’m doing it because I don’t want them to have any excuses.

Outside of the money there comes, time. As a man or head of your household, the time you invest is more important than the money. The time you spend talking, playing, and bonding with your wife and kids will make all the difference. I remember my father being in the front yard with me all the time playing sports with me and training me to the best of his knowledge. He never paid for me to go to a single camp and I’m not sure why that is, but he put me through his own camps in the front yard or in the driveway playing basketball. I went on to play football in college because of his investments and sacrifices.

Yesterday I went outside and juggled the soccer ball with my son and it was so hard. I’m lying here typing this in pain. My thighs, calves, shins, ankles, back, all that is hurting! I told him we will do an hour a day, 5 days a week. That’s the goal but if we at least get 3 days in, I’ll be happy. I know he won’t forget that just as I haven’t forgot what my Dad did with me. At the same time I watch my wife spend 15-20 hours a week with my sons helping them learn their academics. She also takes our oldest to the fields and works him out, putting him through a training regimen. She was a college athlete too. She ran the 800 in college until injuries and school work took over.

The investment of time is so important for the head of the household. The blessings or curses flow from the head. I do my best to make an effort to give my wife time as well as my sons. She is just as important as them. They have to see the way I love her so they will one day love their wives even better. They see us have date-nights every week. They see me grab her butt and rub on them thighs. I don’t intend for them to see all that but they see it. I slip up and get a little inappropriate sometimes with the public display of affection and my wife has to remind me to chill. As they grow older they will see how the head of the household has a large responsibility. I make mistakes too and those are the areas they will be better than me in. We always leave some room for our kids to grow because none of us are perfect. Sometimes I get agitated quickly and get snappy. I don’t curse or yell so it’s not that bad, but I get one of them nice-nasty attitudes that come with smart remarks, silent treatments and rude looks. It takes me about 10 minutes to snap out of it. When my oldest son gives me a look, I blame it on all the concussions I had in college playing football and tell him that’s why I don’t want him to play football, lol. My family watches my every move, the good and the bad. I’m the head and it all flows from me. I’m also writing this mini novel to hold myself accountable and remind myself of my calling as the head of the household. I’m still trying to get more time. I have to make more time actually. Being motivated and driven to earn more money to give my family more opportunities also comes with less time. So I’m constantly working on time management and creating a system that shows balance. I realize that they appreciate my time more than my money. Many men don’t believe that but it’s true. I know they say that love doesn’t pay the bills but in a very discreet way, it actually does pay the bills. My love for my family is what motivated me to become better so I could give them more. That love for them also has pushed me to another level to create streams of income that earn money while I’m spending time with them or even sleeping. Love is paying our bills.

Lastly, I want to make a point to the men about investing in our wives. She is so capable. She is so strong and so smart. She is smarter than you. She can earn more money than you too if given the tools. She has more longevity than you, in the bedroom, in the boardroom, and on Earth. These are shocking facts that I’m coming into the knowledge of. I’m writing this blog right now as my wife is at a conference. Her ticket to this conference cost us $400 that wasn’t in the budget. It actually cost more because of gas and parking so really about $500 plus. We were sitting in the bed early morning on Thursday and I saw it on my timeline. It’s a conference for women who blog, youtube, etc. It’s called “BlogHer.” When I saw it, I mentioned it to her and offered to send her. She accepted and I dropped $400 on it. Our budget is strict and tight because the more you build the more disciplined you have to be and it is a struggle. That’s why they say “mo money, more problems.” A lot comes with trying to make a better life. Nonetheless, we spent the money and she is loving it!! It’s reviving her and giving her a much needed boost to get back to her blogging and brand building.

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Anything she wants to do in her life, I’m here for it. Anything! We are talking about law school right now. I will need a great Entertainment Lawyer one day and I want that money to go to her and she likes that idea too. She has a bachelors in Bio-medical Science and her masters in Medical Sciences. Her initial goal was to be a Medical Doctor but our lives took us in a different direction and now her interests have changed. I’m willing to spend my last dime on her dreams. She’s a full-time CEO of Home and helps run all of the companies I’ve started. She’s the backbone of our family. Our sons wouldn’t be who they are without her. I would literally be dead or in prison if it wasn’t for her influence in my life. For that, I owe her the world. She’s played a major part in my life. I think as men we often forget about the grace and favor a good woman brings to our lives. I challenge you to remember that and to give back to her instead of draining her more. There’s so much more I want to do for my wife that I’m not able to yet. As of now, I’m praying for abundance so that we can pay for law school if that’s where her heart leads her. If not, then for whatever else she wants to do. My days aren’t promised so for all the focus I stole from her at one point in life, I want to return it 1,000x. As men we can’t get into the mindset that everything has to be about us and our aspirations. Her dreams matter too. So many men want a handmaid instead of a Queen. The woman in Proverbs 31 made power moves and held things together. We have to respect her heart and her hustle and get behind her movement.

Ok, I have to put our 3 year old down for his nap now so I’m going to let you go. If you’ve read this far, thank you! I may not have made a lot of sense but I’m trying to put what’s on my heart into words and sometimes that’s so hard to do without offending or alienating someone. Please know this post is only to share another example. However you raise your kids or run your home, more power to you! I’m not saying my way is the way, but it is my way and I just wanted to share it with you to add a different perspective.

God Bless,

Tony A. Gaskins Jr.

When a man wants to give the world… I struggle with finding the balance between giving what's needed and giving everything. I'm starting to understand more why so many men say they want to be financially stable before marriage.

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thegeminisage · 7 years

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time for MORE ZELDABLOGGING hell yeah today’s stream of consciousness:

i’ve decided that i wanna go south bc like im never gonna catch up with my brother and im Not in the mood to do heat-resistence stuff so i might as well see a thing he hasn’t, right?!

if i get too bored i can always turn around and go north!!

furthermore he’s getting closer to hyrule castle and i dont wanna lol

fast traveled to the dueling peaks and found the tower already

ooh and lake hylia is south as well! tho ofc im doing the southeast one first

and i’ll probably get tired of storyless exploring before i get out that far hahaha

wow the tower is close to the border, i can see the lake hylia province from here

there’s an Immense palm tree lookin jungle and i think i see a giant armos?

but the mountains divide it pretty neatly so it looks to be an easy walk assuming those guardian statues don’t move

ah. of course they move.

at least they can’t get up and walk around :|

too bad you can’t play around in the menu while you wait out rain. i’d rewatch m memories and shit

i climbed this one red looking cliff and the sky went green and the weather changed to all cloudy forever so im probably about to die

and just like that, glided to the tower. easy peasy

ah, the faron province!! cooool

ah wow!! it’s bigger than i realized *w*

watching a lightning storm from one of these towers is fucking terrifying

that lightning does Not fuck around

the maddening thing about this game is seeing so much cool shit in the distance and you can’t check it out yet, or it would be such hard work

i see some glowy shit and a giant pink tree and i wanna explore everything but also it’s so Much

it’s kind of creepy out here :/ maybe i want to go do story after all lol

im ging back to the shrine you hang glide off of so i can start from somewhere familiar >_>

idk why im so cautious playing this game. like. its a game. its not like it can hurt me

im having trauma flashbacks looking at eventide island

wait is this a

i hear town music!!! omg omg

PEOPLE ;_;

ohhhh my gosh what a beautiful peaceful beachside town

reminds me of bodhum/new bodhum and bits and piece of ff11, which i say with the greatest reluctance

i love everyone in this village just bc they are here

oh god it’s so beautiful i love beaches so much i want to live here

oh my gosh there’s a gerudo here!!!!!! OH MY GOD I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU SINCE MM TALK TO ME

she’s asleep in the inn lol

oh hey the painter dude is here too

some of these hylian npcs are poc which is so do cool and overdue

ooh a chest game

i lost lmao

OH MY GOD

the gerudo lady is awake and she is. so tall oh my god

im gay

i am Gay

I Am Gay

oh, man. oh man

are they all so beautiful. so Strong. good god

i wish this village was bigger i could have happily stayed here for hours

omg

someone a long time ago was standing on a mountain that looked like a broken heart and was like, is this not the place to find your soulmate…? but i haven’t found mine yet

someone mentioned a similar legend here and on the map i see a mountain with a whole heart on it pfffft

im so sick of seeing these stone cirlces everywhere…i can’t blow them up..what do you DO with them? complete the pattern maybe??

oh my god it worked

i’ve passed by so many…how will i ever get all these seeds……..

i know the game wants me to sail here but i hate sailing, it’s tedious, i want to control my boat with the fucking control stick

holy fuck dude the sword im using is so strong?? it cut down a palm in a single swipe!!

the longer i play the more i hate the blood moon

oh no i found a hinox

i was going to avoid him but he has an orb….

idk where it goes tho so there’s no point there’s no point the blood moon will bring him back okay Okay

hes a red one anyway so no big, when the time comes

oh my god ANOTHER hinox with an orb

i bet they go to the twin shrines near the village

but i’m supposed to find a tablet before i do that…….i don’t wanna skip another quest like the zora helm also thats a Long walk jesus christ

NNNONONONO GOD

GUARDIAN THAT CAN WALK OVER THERE NO FUCKING THANKS SO GLAD IT DIDN’T SEE ME

so fucking glad

exploring is so dangerous Why

why do i suck SO much at combat

oooh a bokoblin camp with a black mobiln :/ Yikes

aaand bomb arrows takes care of THAT

i love seeing farosh flying around here but i can NEVER CATCH HIM

i was just a few minutes too late to getting him at a really good spot

but the dragons seem to take the same route over 24h, so there’s that

oh hey im back at green cloud plateau

okay Um am i crazy or did i just hear something roar? was that the wind??

oh god i see a question mark from here something already knows im close

oh ogd oh god why i bet it’s big and awful

IT’S A LYNEL LOL

i dont have any healing or defense stuff no way

oh no i think there’s a shrine up there where he is ): but i can’t get it

AND A HINOX RIGHT NEXT TO HIM? NO THANKS LOL

jesus i knew i’d die here

at least there’s no orb on this one

oh noooo more lightning god the storms here are brutal

omg i found shelter behind a waterfall and there’s the shrine i was sensing!! yes!!!!!

holy fuck im not safe here either i nearly just got fried

in the shrine we go holy shit

may the weather be better when i get out

damn i keep finding ore today… #blessed

I SAW FAROSH AGAIN HE WAS SO CLOSE BUT I WAS STILL TOO SLOW…okay they DEFINITELY take the same route everyday i think

or at least if not at the same time, the same places

ugh i went over to this one place and the weather turned to all lightning forever

KASS? HOLY SHIT DUDE YOU’RE GONNA GET FRIED

im so glad to see him ;_; it’s creepy out here

uh…i think…i have to get struck by lightning…on this hill…oh my god i’ll die???

maybe my lightning rod will work……? please…………..?

aaaaand it did nothing. great. ok

/saves game

……../dons metal armor weapons and shield

LMAO IT WORKED HOLY SHIT

oh my god im alive!!!! i had mipha’s grace just in case but i took an electric elixir

jesus FUCK

yes nice i didnt even have to do anything just get the…chest…….

B R O

i got rubber tights!!! electric resistance!!!!! NICE

ah and when i came out the storm was over :3

but kass is gone ): i wanted to tell him i figured out his song!!!

i knew i should have talked to him before i went in :/

lol i find a boat after playing in the water for 100 years…..not that i wouldve used it, but

aw i met and saved a traveling couple, i’ve saved them before

oh my gosh a STABLE!! all the way out here!!!!

THERE ARE PEOPLE

man i wondered what that couple was doing out in such a remote place

oh wow beedle gave me a single ancient arrow…apparently it deals huge damage even to guardians

maybe this is what the start screen meant by the right tools!!!!

but there’s only one…

robbie from akkala gave it to him…NICE i’ll remember

ah some guy here said there was something glowing at the top of floria waterfall…i gotta check that out

ooh a shrine back here too…nice

god there’s a chest in here that’s REALLY hard to get bc camera angles but it has an ancient core (looked it up) and i need one to upgrade my runes………smh

man…nah. im out. there will be other cores & this is crazy ridiculous

its just the stasis rune anyway and i use that one the least

five big hearty radishes means TWENTY FIVE EXTRA HEARTS

but you can only have a max of 30 lol so

AAAH HERE COMES FAROSH AND IM FINALLY AHEAD OF WHERE HE’LL BE OH MY GOD

I HIT HIM I HIT HIM

I FINALLY GOT A SCALE

almost died for it but. i got it. he throws electricity involuntarily and it’s major stuff i shoulda worn my rubber gear

i kinda wanna wait and see if i can get another……..but i have shit to do

holy shit farosh came back around & i got another scale…wish i could hit his horn

AAAH NO A GIANT STONE THING IS HERE….i have no idea how to fight them im leaving

well idk if the stone thing or the dragon or the shrine was what was supposed to be glowing up here but i don’t see anything new

im almost done exploring this province, actually

gotta walk along one beach and climb the heart mountain and that’s it!

a little tempted to grab my horse since it’s such an easy direct road, but i’d be getting on and off all the time ):

fml there’s a guardian on this beach…pls dont move pls dont pls dont

oh thank god its stuck in the sand

omg there was a chest in the sand but it WASNT A CHEST it was one of those yellow octoroks!!!! but!! i shot it! and got money!!!!!!!! #nice

NOOOO another stone thing!!

but you know the last one took a lot of damage from one accidental bomb so maybe

how do you fight it?? i can’t damage it???

OH OMG THE ORE THING!!! OKAY LET’S DO THIS SHIT let’s go i cooked up so much good food

oh my god i took him down in just a handful of bomb arrows…THATS what ive been running from?

not nearly as scarly as lynel tbh

and i’ve been marking the minibosses on my map so now i can look for jewels there if i ever need to

i found a fuckton in this region but lol i sold them all

i know one great fairy needs 10k rupees and like…..Yikes

im getting pretty good with my bow, i can hit far off targets bc i know how high to aim and shit

i’ve kind of been wondering what happens if you get to the edge of the map

but the wind gets so strong on the beaches i bet you just either run out of stamina if swimming or can’t make the boat get past it if sailing

but what happens if you get to a land edge though…?

i actually dislike getting to edges of maps haha it creeps me out. that disreality unrealization shit. no thanks

in la noire the edges of the map have u-turn streets and you realize the cars are all just on one endless track and no one is in them and no one ever goes home and you start to wonder if this actual universe is a simulation and it freaks you out

anyway.

omfg someone from the yiga clan selling bananas like i actually could have bought some if i wanted LMAO

he actually had me fooled for a moment even though i know what npcs named “traveler” mean

why do they all give me bananas when they die anyway………whats going on with this.

oh my god this dude at the heart shaped pond is in love with this gerudo lady here. and like. same oh my god she’s so Big

but lol you can choose to say “yeah talk to her” or “nope, rival time!”

me: aggressively wants to flirt with the gerudo lady but not in a straight way

pls this cutscene was so cute

but she deserves better than a weirdo like this guy

he like, gave me a twenty, and she fussed at him for being stingy, so then he have me a hundred, and THEN

HE ASKED FOR HIS MONEY BACK LMFAO no way fucknuts

wow and with that im All Done with this province O:

i mean yeah i got quests and shrines to come back and do, but i’ve SEEN everything, yk

maybe now i’ll go up to death mountain haha i feel so slow ): i hope what i saw and did made up for my slow story progress

whoa this weapons guy said he’d remake mipha’s trident if i ever broke it!! what a relief

ah i finally figured out the shrine puzzle by zora’s domain…gotta give that thing a dragon scale. but i like my dragon scales too much so i won’t. maybe later

oh hey the death mountain region tower! that was easy

uhhh what…is that

oh my god a FLYING GUARDIAN are you KIDDING me??? why???????

and they’re everywhere! fantastic!!! my ass is DEAD

oh okay this region is called akkala

at least i get guardian arrows here eventually :|

oh my god ONE SAW ME FUCK

oh my god

I RAN UP TO THE TOWER AND IT’S COVERED IN THE BLIGHT

what is that thing crawling all over death mountain?!

what is happening OH my god!!! so much!! everything!!! all at once!!!!!!!!

wait

that’s the divine beast

oh my god

oh my god.

oh my god it’s so big but even still it looks tiny in comparison to the mountain, oh my god

omg it gets cold up here only at night?? omg

NO there’s a still guardian up here too ;_;

i’m gonna try to kill it!!! good first try it can’t move and there’s cover RIGHT here

second try really but im stronger now

now, i have bomb arrows and lightning rods

ok lightning rod does nothing, bomb arrows dont work in the rain, but i killed it with shock arrows!!

and it wasnt v hard bc i was behind cover the whole time lol

but like, with those arrows - i used maybe 9 or 10? and that was all i used, i threw a couple of bombs at it too i guess

now to figure out how i even get IN here w/ all this gunk…..

fuck a bokoblin near a cooking pot saw me and accidentally set itself on fire lmao

ok i can’t climb past the blight, i tried, but how the fuck do i get rid of it i dont see any eyeballs )))):

……………………….w ait

this bokoblin has a shield with the hylian crest on it. the HYLIAN crest

these ruins have the red carpet with the double line of gold on the side

i’m crying this was someplace special

i don’t know what it was bc it can’t be the temple of time or hyrule castle but it was someplace real i recognize the style of it so faintly and it’s COVERED IN BLIGHT

oh my god………..this is so Much

ah ok a beam fell when i shot the first eyeball and i was like why arent there anymore?? but apparently i can magnesis it

oh wow i found a piece of a room…….totally trashed, jesus christ

must’ve been a lab or library

omg its thundering outside…..that has nothing to do with zelda but it makes this creepier

THERE’S A GUARDIAN AT THE TOP SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME

its not alive tho thank christ

jesus fuck the divine beast is SO BIG and the mountain is still SO MUCH BIGGER i feel so tiny every time i look

anyway it’s 5am and there’s lightning so i gotta unplug for many reasons, this is a fine stopping place, can’t wait to get my ass kicked by that thing and rescue a goron, holy fuck

#loz blogging #botw spoilers #not too spoiler heavy bit a lil bit #personal #snap story incoming #this storm is gonna be a real humdinger #i worry all the time about my aunt's outdoor feral cat colony ):

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