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marmosa · 4 years

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it takes two.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: a little 18+ humor at a point, but it’s pretty low-key.

A/N: this had some anti-olives discourse and i’m not sorry about it olives r fcking nasty. also [y/n]’s smell is daisy love by marc jacobs for reference, it’s a perfume i really like but i was like there is no way anyone knows what a fucking cloudberry is, so next time you’re at sephora or sumthin go get a whiff of it, it’s lovely. anywho hope you guys like it, i had tons of fun writing the banter in this one, hope it turned out as nice as i thought :) p.s i didn’t proof read this so sorry in advance <3

***

[y/n] hated potions. She hated it more than anything else on this planet and that was saying something considering olives were literally out there existing. Potions shouldn’t have been such a hard class for her, not when she had no problem in her other classes, and certainly not when all it included was following a damned recipe.

Which explained why she wanted to drive a dagger through her skull when Professor Snape announced they’d be spending the next few days preparing to brew amortentia. Not only was the romantic part of it so nerve wracking it made the entire class nauseous, but the prospect of messing it up and not smelling anything at all was even worse (for those who cared, at least).

“You’re dismissed. Make sure to study up on the potion before hand or you’ll sorely regret it,” Snape called out to the class in that tone of his voice that sounded like rancid milk. Was it mentioned that [y/n] also hated Snape? Yeah that too.

As [y/n] packed up her things, she felt a tap on her shoulder, “Speak of the devil.”

“I’m not the devil, I know you lot think ginger’s are evil, but I can assure you I am no devil,” Fred shook his head displeasingly, crossing his arms and leaning back against her desk, “Also, what a way to great someone, sheesh woman, you’d think you’d be more excited to see me.”

“Okay, firstly, there was no need for that whole spiel,” [y/n] held her hands up defensively, “Secondly, I only said that because I was just thinking about you before you arrived.”

Fred rolled his eyes at her back-tracking, but smiled smugly none-the-less, “Aww you were thinking of me? Nothing too naughty I hope,” he winked.

[y/n] flipped her bag shut and looked up at him with a deadpan expression, reaching up and punching his shoulder, “you wish, Weasley. The only naughty thing I’d be caught doing with you is tying you up to turn you in to the police.”

“Tying me up? Didn’t take you as the type for that sort of thing,” Fred grinned, biting back another remark as he watched her groan in annoyance but refuse to make eye contact with him, “but honestly, what were you thinking about?”

“Well,” [y/n] began, pulling at his sleeve to get him to follow her out of class, “You know we have this amortentia potion coming up and I’m doing shit in this class, but I was thinking you could help me study since you have a track record of being good in this class?”

“Hmm,” Fred pondered the offer, shrugging, “what’s in it for me?”

“You get to spend time with me?” [y/n] smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes dramatically to emphasize the effect.

“That’s a shit deal,” Fred chuckled, raising his brows with a small grin at [y/n]’s frown.

“Yeah, it is,” [y/n] sighed, an idea popping into her head, “but if I brewed it successfully you’d get to find out who I fancy, I know you’ve been poking around there because you’re an nosy git who won’t leave me alone about it.”

Fred scoffed in mock offense, tilting his head to the side, “Rude, but not false. Y’know, that does spice up the offer, but what’s stopping me from just finding out by having you smell someone else’s brew? And who’s to say I’m gonna know who smells like that anyway?”

“You’re so difficult,” [y/n] groaned, sinking her shoulders, “you know what, just forget it. I’ll go bother George or something, y’know the better twin.”

Fred’s smile fell as he screwed his features together, ”Excuse me? You’ve got some nerve you little-,”

“I don’t-woah!” [y/n] yelped as Fred tackled her to the side of the empty hall, trapping her against the wall, his hand planted to the side of her head and his other arm situated above her head.

“Take it back,” Fred demanded, giving her a once over, amused at the way she silently reeled over the position she’d just been put into.

“And why should I?” [y/n] snapped back, staring right back at him as soon as she’d gotten her bearings.

“Take it back,” Fred repeated simply, his voice low as he tried to coax his desired response out of her.

“Again, why should I?” [y/n] hummed, relaxing against the wall and looking at him with a sly smile.

Fred rolled his eyes and straightened himself back up, pushing his hair out of his face with one hand, “you’re no fun, you know exactly why.”

“No I don’t,” [y/n] continued, chimed in amusement, “do you think George isn’t as good as you?”

“Now don’t you go putting words in my mouth,” Fred snipped, “you know just as well as I do that’s not true.”

“I don’t know, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” [y/n] shrugged, biting back a laugh at Fred’s less than amused expression, “I’ll cut you a deal. You help me with potions and I don’t tell George your dirty little secret.”

“That’s not-,” Fred groaned, his argumentative spirit draining out of his body as his will to spend time with her won out, “Fine. But if you ever tell a lie like that to George, I’ll feel no remorse telling everyone and their mother that you like being tied up for fun.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” [y/n] hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What? It’s not like it’s true,” Fred teased, his smirk falling when she remained silent, “No way, [y/n] that’s got to be a lie.”

“So what if it isn’t? You’ll never know,” [y/n] giggled, biting back a smile.

“Now wait a minute-,” Fred began, startled at this random piece of questionable information, but was cut off as they arrived at [y/n]’s class.

“It was lovely chatting with you, but I will have to see you later,” [y/n] hummed playfully, giving him a quick hug before darting into her classroom leaving a shocked Fred to himself, “bye Freddie!”

***

“Do you think Fred likes me?” [y/n] rolled onto her stomach and looked over at her friend expectantly, bumping her ankles together to distract her from the rapid beating of her heart.

Nadya tossed her books to the side and slid her legs off the side of her bed, leaning forward to try and be level with [y/n], “Are you really asking me that right now?”

“What!” [y/n] scoffed, pouting, “it’s an honest question!”

“Of all things holy,” Nadya groaned, burying her face in her hands, “Of course he likes you? You really asked him to be your homework helper and he said yes. Who in their right mind willingly studies for potions?”

[y/n] chewed on the inside of her cheek, nodding along, “You are absolutely correct. But like, if he doesn’t, isn’t it going to backfire on me when he realizes I smell him in the amortentia potion?”

“Bold of you to assume that any man knows what he smells like,” Nadya chuckled, “Remember in grade school when the boys would wear that atrocious body spray? It was ghastly.”

“Again, you’re absolutely correct. But Fred has like a distinct smell, it’s like camp fires, caramel, and fire-whiskey,” [y/n] sighed, letting herself bask in the though of how lovely he was, “it’s wonderful.”

“Kinda creepy that you know how specific it is,” Nadya pursed her lips and titled her head to the side to avoid [y/n]’s flat glare.

“Oh yeah because yesterday you totally weren’t telling me about Sam’s ‘absolutely magical eyes’, your words not mine,” [y/n] hummed, a smug smile drawing itself across her lips.

“You’re a twat,” Nadya snapped back, rolling her eyes, “back to you, aren’t you suppose to meet him in the library in like 5 minutes?”

[y/n] glanced over at the clock on her nightstand and nearly feel onto the floor running to get her stuff, “Shit! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Because you were too busy talking about what Fred smelled like,” Nadya deadpanned, taking her turn to smile smugly.

“I would wipe that stupid look off your face if I wasn’t running late,” [y/n] narrowed her eyes teasingly, grabbing her textbooks, “see you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner,” Nadya affirmed, waving goodbye.

***

“Took you long enough,” Fred lulled, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m surprised you were here on time, especially for something as boring as homework,” [y/n] replied, setting all her stuff down and sliding into the seat across from him.

Fred looked at her dumbly, wanting to snap back but not knowing how to without admitting he was just excited to see her, “Shut up. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one who asked for my help?”

[y/n] leaned her cheek onto her balled up fist and exhaled deeply, “Touché. You’re a handful Weasley.”

“You love it though,” He hummed, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That I do,” [y/n] chuckled, kicking his ankles playfully under the table.

“Well, if you need my help it’s counter productive to do it across from me isn’t it? You don’t want to be swinging a book around over and over again,” Fred mentioned while flipping through his own textbook to find the lesson.

“That’s a good point,” [y/n] shrugged, pushing all her stuff to the other side of the table and switching her seat, glancing over at his book to note the page number, “Y’know, I actually really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, volunteer work is important after all,” Fred teased, quickly back-tracking when she stared back at him blankly, “Kidding! You know I’ll always make time for you,” he mumbled, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

[y/n] rolled her eyes and pretended to fish around her bag so he wouldn’t notice the embarrassed look on her face, “Thanks. Same for you.”

Fred chuckled softly, leaning his cheek onto his fist to watch her silently, admiring the way she looked out of uniform in her favorite sweater and pair of jeans. She practically glowed in the low light of the library, her hands constantly pushing a fly away of hair out of her face, her face screwing up in an adorable sort of annoyance. He was smitten, no doubt about it, and honestly- he was okay with that.

“What’re you looking at?” [y/n] muttered, catching his unwavering stare.

“Nothing, you’ve just got an eyelash on your face,” Fred played it off nonchalantly, reaching forward and brushing off the imaginary eyelash.

[y/n] tried her absolute best not to combust right then and there, thanking him quietly before redirecting his attention to the work, “So, what do you say we start here? The measurements are rather odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Fred bit back a smile and nodded, amused at the loss of her fiery attitude, his heart thumping loudly against his chest.

“Yeah, they are.”

***

“Fuck!”

Nadya glanced up from the journal sitting in her lap, the pair of eyes she was sketching seemingly following along with her as she located [y/n] standing in front of the mirror, looking ready to fall apart.

“What’s all this about then?” Nadya inquired, cocking her head to the side.

“We’re making the potions today and it didn’t seem like a big deal two days ago but the anxiety has finally caught up to me and I feel truly sick,” [y/n] shuddered, jumping up and down in place to try and shake out her prickling nerves.

“I know you’re worried, but what are the chances of anyone knowing what that smell is? By the way you described it, it’s so painfully specific that only someone who’s known him for ages would know,” Nadya reassured her panicking friend, smiling softly.

“I know, but what if-,”

“If you keep talking yourself into believing it you’re gonna be miserable. Just breath, go do your best, and have fun. Nothing will go wrong,” Nadya explained calmly, knowing just how much of a busy-brain [y/n] could get.

“Ah, you’re right, I’m only gonna make myself feel worse. I’ll stop, thanks Nadya,” [y/n] padded over and gave her a quick hug, “see you at lunch?”

“See you at lunch,” Nadya nodded, waving her goodbye.

***

“You’ve all finished brewing your amortentia I presume,” Snape spoke in that nasally tone of his, glowering at the class.

The class replied with a cacophony of “yes’s”, the anxiety of each person literally rolling off the walls in waves. People who had a fancy in that class practically had a neon sign above their heads that said so, while those who didn’t sat back and relaxed in peace as they pondered their grade.

[y/n] glanced over at Fred who caught her gaze, passing her an enthusiastic thumbs up, which she returned happily despite the knots forming in her stomach.

“Well then, if you’re done, get into your groups and test it out. Remember if you smell nothing that it doesn’t mean you failed the potion, you must reference the check list of properties before coming to a conclusion,” Snape explained, folding his hands behind his back, “is that clear?”

The class responded with “yes’s” once more and in an instant the room was bustling as the groups got to smelling their potions to test out the initial effects. [y/n]’s group agreed that they’d go clock-wise, leaving her last to test out the potion.

“It smells like honey, baked goods, and lavender,” Charlie spoke up, his cheeks tinging red as he probably registered quite who the scent was probably related to.

“That’s a lovely combination,” Dina nodded, leaning forward and taking a whiff of their own brew, “truly I can’t smell much but there is a faint note of citrus,” they shrugged.

[y/n] and Timothy exchanged knowing glances, a fancy probably developing in Dina’s life that they hadn’t quite registered yet.

“My turn,” Timothy exhaled, nodding stiffly as if to reassure himself as he smelled the potion. His eyes nearly popped out his head as he took a step back fanning his face slightly, “that has got to be the strongest smell of herbs I’ve ever smelled- he’s probably been spending extra time in the Green Room, that twat.”

The group broke into laughter as he gracefully excused himself to go stand outside to let the smell filter out of his nose. As soon as he’d left, the group look at [y/n] expectantly, all excited to hear what she smelled.

[y/n] swallowed thickly and leaned over her pot, her nerves finally spiking as she took a whiff of the brew. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when she finally registered the smell, her face growing hot, as an embarrassed expression pulled itself onto her features- of course it was him.

“So, what did you smell?” Dina chirped enthusiastically, leaning against the table.

“Yeah [y/n], what did you smell?”

[y/n] felt her heart drop to her feet, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets and into the pot in front of her. Of course he was going to ask.

“You did promise you’d tell me,” Fred smirked, leaning against the table, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“That I did,” [y/n] chuckled awkwardly.

“I’ll cut you a deal this time. You tell me what you smelled and I’ll tell you what I did,” Fred offered, raising his brows to emphasize his tantalizing offer.

“Deal,” [y/n] nodded, rolling her shoulder a few times, “I smelled a camp fire, caramel, and fire whiskey.”

Charlie and Dina exchanged wide eyed glances, quietly agreeing that the smell was certainly unique and equally lovely before excusing themselves to go get a final grade from Snape.

“What a unique smell,” Fred hummed, eyeing her groupmates oddly “Guess I have to hold up my end of the bargain then. I couldn’t really tell you the specifics, but definitely berries, daisies, and driftwood.”

“That’s even more unique than mine, whoever you smelled sure does have a refined palette,” [y/n] giggled, calming down as she realized Fred had no clue who she was talking about with her own smell.

“She sure does. I think it’s her perfume or something, she wears it everyday so I recognized it almost immediately,” Fred chuckled, shrugging, “But fire whiskey, I truly wonder who that could be, you wouldn’t happen to be willing to tell me? Would you?” he bat his eyelashes innocently.

“In your dreams Weasley,” [y/n] huffed, shoving him playfully.

“Ouch, tough crowd,” Fred pouted, turning so his elbows were leaned onto the table behind him.

“You know I’m only keeping it from you for my own sanity,” [y/n] chuckled, reaching over and shaking his shoulder softly.

Fred chewed his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing in the opposite direction from her, his mind clouded with doubt, wondering who this mystery person could possibly be- praying to everything holy that there was even a possibility of it being him.

Unbeknownst to him, [y/n]’s internal dialogue was practically doing the same thing trying desperately to put a person to the smell he describe but coming up empty, her heart sinking slightly while she admonished herself for getting her hopes up too fast.

“Well, you know I’m not gonna give up until I find out. I’ll sniff everyone in our year if it means getting my answer,” Fred teased, winking at her.

“That’s so creepy, you’ll be lucky if you can even get close enough to smell your own brother,” [y/n] laughed, letting her head roll forward slightly.

“Whatever you say,” Fred hummed, shimmying his shoulders to a silent tune, “better go get that grade of yours then, we didn’t do all that studying for nothing.”

“We might’ve since you couldn’t tell who I smelled,” [y/n] bit back a laugh when Fred glared back at her.

“You’re a twat.”

“I know.”

***

“Nadya! My dearest darling companion to ever to walk this planet, do you happen to know anyone who smells like caramel and fire whiskey?” Fred asked, throwing his arms around the two girls.

Nadya nearly spilled her drink at Fred’s sudden appearance, which didn’t particularly go down well with her, “Fred if you scare us like that again I’m going to hex you so severely you’ll be stuck in the infirmary trying to figure out how to get your wand out of your arse.”

Fred’s face drained of all it’s color (if that was even possible, being as pale as he already was), “Sorry Nadya, my bad.”

[y/n] stifled a laugh, continuing to munch on her piece of chicken, ignoring Nadya’s side eye that practically screamed “handle your own boyfriend”.

“But back to your question, I can’t say that I do, who do you have in mind so far?” Nadya humored him, trying her best to give leeway to both her best friend and her best friend’s crush.

“Well, as [y/n] so wisely said, it’s too creepy to go around and sniff people, so I’m just going off of hunches. Oliver seems like a likely candidate and so does Casper, but I’m still not sure,” Fred sighed, obviously already impatient in his search.

Nadya glanced over at [y/n] who was all to comfortable pretending she wasn’t a part of the conversation, happily sipping at her cider.

“I’m not gonna say anything, you can search for as long as you’d like, I’m not budging,” [y/n] shook her head, smiling all too amused, patting Fred’s head patronizingly.

“You’re no fun,” Fred pouted, huffing and standing back straight, dusting off the invisible dust on his robes, “Well since I’m not gonna get an answer out of either you, I’ll take my search elsewhere, see you around.”

“Bye Freddie,” [y/n] chirped, waving goodbye to him, “So you were right.”

Nadya broke into laughter, elbowing [y/n] playfully, “I told you! You got so worked up and he hasn’t even gotten close to an answer.”

“Casper, he really thinks I’d like Casper? He’s lovely and all but imagine having to sit through him telling you about how handsome he is? That sounds absolutely awful,” [y/n] shook her head, giggling at the thought.

“I truly think he’s just lying to himself at this point, there’s no way he’d be that dumb,” Nadya claimed, refiling her cup.

“I think so too, you know Fred though, he love’s a good challenge,” [y/n] shrugged, taking another bite of her chicken, “well have to see.”

***

“Okay, I think I’ve figured it out!”

[y/n] groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes, sinking as far as she could into the couch that she thought was tucked at the very back corner of the library, “please, it’s been nearly two days! You haven’t given it up yet?”

“Not at all, it’s fun, irritating, but fun,” Fred beamed, skipping over and plopping down next to her on the couch, “See I think I’ve narrowed the search down to these three guys.”

[y/n] glanced down at the small sheet of paper he held out to her and then back at him, a tired sag in her eyes as she felt guilt start to push against her chest. Maybe she was in the wrong for letting him run around and play a fruitless guessing game that she knew he would probably never get the answer to.

“I’m thinking if you give me another clue, I could zero it down to-,”

“It’s not them Fred.”

Fred fell quiet as [y/n] pushed his hand down, taking the paper and tossing it on the small table to her side, pushing his fingers into a small fist that she held gingerly, “It’s not anyone you’ve guessed.”

[y/n] sighed and swallowed her nerves, deciding it was now or never, that if she didn’t say something now she would be tormented by regret and Fred’s relentless guesses for the rest of her life.

“It’s no one you know because,” [y/n] looked away, literally incapable of meeting the wide inviting look he was giving her right then, “it’s you Fred. I like you.”

When she was met with silence, the rock finally started to settle at the pit of her stomach, her brows knitting together as she bit back her bubbling emotions. She tried to pull her hand back but had it quickly snatched back by Fred who had threaded their fingers together.

“I knew it,” He grinned, cupping her face with one hand and pulling her to him, his lips pressing against hers extremely gentle for how abrupt the kiss had been.

[y/n]’s eyes went wide before sinking shut, her free hand wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. They sat like that for a while, the quite chatter of the other students background noise to the gentle kisses they passed between one another, the pent up impatience and nervousness draining out of them with each and every kiss.

The two of them finally pulled away, a red hue fanned over Fred’s face, his freckles even more noticeable now that she was up this close.

“Shit, I didn’t ask permission to kiss you, did I?” Fred mumbled bumping his forehead against hers, squeezing their still intertwined hands.

“It’s okay, at least I kissed back, yeah?” [y/n] whispered, thumbing over the small scar on his cheek, probably from a quidditch match.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be better about it though,” Fred promised, tilting his head to the side to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Me too,” [y/n] smiled, adoration practically rolling off of her in waves, “wait- what did you mean you knew it?”

Fred pulled back and sat up straight, his lips pressed together so tightly he was practically forcing all the blood out of them, “Well, I kind of already knew from the time your tablemates sort of left us alone in potions. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

[y/n] felt her face fall, her mouth getting stuck open in an o shape, as she stared at him dumbly, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately no,” Fred giggled, placing both of his hands on the sides of her face, “don’t be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, just disappointed in myself, that shit’s embarrassing for me!” [y/n] groaned, placing her hands on top of his.

“Well it all worked out in the end didn’t it?” Fred chimed, his lips stretching out into a grin.

“I suppose it did,” [y/n] hummed thoughtfully.

“Now the real question is how you didn’t know what your own perfume smelled like,” Fred quipped, immediately bouncing back to teasing her.

“Oh for god’s sake, do I look like I research perfume scents in my free time?” [y/n] scoffed.

“A little bit,” Fred muttered.

“You know what never mind, don’t you ever try to kiss me again,” [y/n] shoved him off her playfully, scooting all the way to the opposite end of the couch.

“Now don’t be like that,” Fred groaned, crawling over to her.

“Nuh uh, nope,” [y/n] shook her head, sticking out her legs in a feeble attempt to stop his advance.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, too late, come here.”

“I said no- fine! Fine, goodness gracious.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought, now give me another kiss before you have to go back to doing boring homework.”

“Fine.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x [y/n]#[y/n]#hogwarts #harry potter #fred weasley imagines #mar writes

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Lantern Lighting

Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection.

Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing.

We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!

This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.

This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.

Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting.

(more after the cut!)

Everybody’s wishes

Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.

The Promise We Made Together

Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here. While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices.

Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)

Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time.

He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.

And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.

(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)

But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation.

In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.

This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.

The Girls’ Room

The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side.

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.

So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation.

Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene.

Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble.

Ants in my Pants

Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him.

He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.

Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.

Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.

Douche Dads Conference

We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction

This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?

...Holy mother of god.

Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).

Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place?

You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here.

So do the other adults in the room.

Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us

Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men

Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.

Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt

Sorry Sis

Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.

At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.

Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah

The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn.

Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.

Farewell and Fuck You

The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.

Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.

Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field.

Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.

I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans.

Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst

Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively.

Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts.

WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord. Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea.

We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!

Uggghh why are you like this?

Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous. That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader. He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks.

Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.

Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness

Rabbits

At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.” This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback.

Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him. Well done, Wei Ying.

Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches

(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)

While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.

Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.

Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #cdrama #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #the untamed spoilers

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mrawkweird · 3 years

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Top 5 favorite Male and Female Wrestlers and Why?

Edge: I think he can be responsible for officially getting me back into the world of wrestling full time back in 2004-05. His run towards becoming a champion and how psychotic and obsessed it made him was just really cool to me. The night he cashed in the MITB contract to become WWE Champion was just so special for many reasons. it solidified what that briefcase could mean for years to come, it gave the people someone that could actually topple "Super Cena" and it finally gave Edge the very thing he's burned every single bridge to get. He's the first and for a time only bad guy that ever made me actually root for them. Not to mention he had the most badass theme and entrance on the roster and today that still holds true. It is impossible for anyone to be cooler than Edge to me.

Victoria: She was and always will be not the lady to mess with. Victoria was right up there with Edge for me in the realm of psychotic badasses. Hell, I even hoped they would end up being paired together before Lita came and showed why that spot was hers. I always really enjoyed Victoria's character though and her finisher Widow's Peak is some sick shit. Best believe I had her wrecking everybody in SVR 2009.

The Miz: As far as I'm concerned anyone that can bring themselves to actually dislike The Miz and think he hasn't earned every right to achieve the things he has hasn't been paying attention. WWE themselves are even sleeping if they honestly think they shouldn't let him have a real run with THE title again. He has more than proved countless times that he can carry a show, carry a feud and carry a championship to absolute relevancy. Miz is a main event caliber star and as the music states he is in fact AWESOME. Punk's jealous-ass can kick rocks.

Mickie James: That woman has accomplished so much in the industry and for the industry that she is worthy of every single flower you could give her. And to top it all off she's not even remotely close to done. With everything that she's doing now it should cause the person that picked up that trash bag to cut their hands off out of sheer shame. She should be right up on that pedestal with Trish and Lita and so should Victoria. Not to mention she is finer than any wine you could find in a cellar 'cause GOODT LORDT.

Bray Wyatt: Truly the definition of infinite potential because you know that mind and his creativity will never stop rising. There is no such thing as a glass ceiling no matter how much WWE wanted it to be there. I look forward to seeing what he does next because from swamp cult leader to devil incarnate to demonic Mister Rogers to slasher killer Bray has hit shit out of the park every time. Everyone should be scared and excited for what comes next because that creative monster is loose and as he says; you can't kill it.

Jade Cargill: That woman is a goddamn amazon directly from Themyscira. She has not been in the game long but damn if she doesn't have my utmost attention every time she's on screen. She just captures it like she captures her opponents in the ring because she is as advertised and that is DAT BITCH. I look forward to seeing her rise in the industry and only getting better.

Roman Reigns: If star power was a person it would be Roman Reigns. He is someone that was always capable of having that very thrown around "IT" and it took WWE such a long time to actually let him utilize that to it's fullest potential. He is the "Head Of The Table" and the "Tribal Chief for a reason. People like to bring it up in discussion about who's the better champion for their company; Roman Reigns or Kenny Omega and for me that's always been a very easy question if I had to choose. Nothing at all personal against Omega but to quote Reigns himself there are levels to this. Levels that nobody else is touching right now as THE champion of their respective company. At least not to me. Honestly in the end you have to appreciate that it took WWE such a long time because now it makes his current persona all the more sweeter.

(I'm going to cheat a bit but I have to put these 2 together..) Asuka & Kairi Sane: When I tell you that these 2 became a match made in heaven the moment they turned heel to win those Tag Team Championships you have to believe me. Their initial face run was all a bit questionable. As questionable as the name "Kabuki Warriors" was itself but it was that heel run that made it all gel so perfectly. They were fucking magic together and just played off each other so well. Hell, they did so well they were the main event of TLC against Charlotte and Becky AND they fucking won. I still feel bad about Kairi in that match though. She earned every right to get to enjoy that moment and unfortunately she couldn't. Kabuki Warriors 5 Life.

LA Knight: In my head it's always going to be "E-LI DRAKE" but he is another person that just oozes the vibe that "This is your guy, this is who you should be building your brand around" and if the company he's in doesn't get that same vibe then they better not waste his time. He is honestly what got me back into watching Impact Wrestling with just how good he was every time he was on screen. He was THE reason to watch anything they were doing and I'm not saying that to be insulting; it's just a fact of life. No matter what's about to happen to NXT I hope to see him still be able to get to the level he should be there which is at the very top. His career is something I intend to follow no matter where he goes.

Hikaru Shida: She's all around just a personal favorite of mine. When it comes to her I ain't even gonna try to be unbiased. Her look and her in-ring style just had me hooked from the get go. So much so that when they introduced the AEW Women's Championship for the first time it just seemed destined for her and best believe I was ecstatic when she finally won it. I'm always going to really wish she got more TV time during her reign as champion though. And it may just be me wishful thinking but I feel like she might be up to something on Dark Elevation and the day she finally comes back to the main show I think she's going to bring something new with her.

#WWE #NXT #AEW #Impact Wrestling #WWE Edge #Victoria #The Miz #Mickie James #Bray Wyatt #Jade Cargill #Roman Reigns #Asuka #Kairi Sane #LA Knight #Hikaru Shida

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years

Text

Game Master Akuma AU by crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

#submission

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jelliclesunsandmoons · 3 years

Text

1998 Munk vs 2016 Munk part 1

Welp, here’s something I promised a long while ago, 1998 Munk vs 2016 Munk! When I first made that post asking if anyone would be interested in a post like this, I thought it’d be something that i’d just write up in like an afternoon and then be done with. I was wrong. I was so very wrong. In fact, I ended up having SO MUCH to say about these two, that I decided to split this analysis into parts just to get this thing out! This post is part one, and the others will be coming in the future. I know that probably sounds like bullshit, but trust me, I have got a LOT to say about Munkustrap! And I have every intention of forcing you all to listen to it!

Anyways, here we go!

Munkustrap is really the story-teller. He's entrusted with giving the information to the other, maybe younger cats who have not been to the Jellicle Ball before. He gets up and says exactly what they're here to do. He's also the caretaker of the kittens. He wants to make sure everybody's safe; in all the Macavity scares, he's there to protect the tribe. So he is the protector.

-Michael Gruber, 1998

Munkustrap is Old Deuteronomy's son and is next in line for the throne. So his leadership was inevitable, but over the course of the show he learns that true leadership is about understanding and forgiveness, and not just a right of birth. In trying to clarify relationships with everyone onstage, Tyler Hanes and I decided to commit to the idea of Munk and Tugger being half brothers. I am the Rob Stark to Tyler's Jon Snow. Without the Red Wedding.

-Andy Huntington Jones, 2016

I’ll be starting the analysis off with Invitation to the Jellicle Ball, which means skipping over Jellicle Songs and The Naming of Cats. While these songs are fine, they’re more for the audience benefit than for the story, so they don’t have many individual character moments to analyze.

Invitation to the Jellicle Ball

This number comes right off the heels of The Naming of Cats and takes place right before the ball officially begins. Victoria, the pure white kitten, is alone onstage, and begins to perform what’s known as The White Cat Solo, one of the shows most famous moments of choreography. Quaxo soon rushes back onstage and calls all the jellicles to ball! This acts as both the invitation, and official opening to the ball, as everyone rushes back onstage. Once the twins are finished with the opening, Munkustrap takes over and explains to the jellicles what they’re here to do, in a manner similar to a sermon!

-In the 1998 version, Munkustrap is one of the first cats to come back, but he doesn’t actually take center-stage until Quaxo is done with his solo! This is because his main priority is the other jellicles, whom he can be seen checking up on in the background. It’s only once he’s confirmed to himself that all the others are present, that he makes his way center-stage. And when begins his part, the jellicles immediately turn their attention to him. He’s such a strong presence that all the others react to even the slightest shift in his tone! He may be singing about Old Deuteronomy in this scene, but he is the absolute authority here. As soon as he’s done with his sermon, he’s swarmed with attention! Electra and Sillabub paw at him for attention, Mistoffelees gives him a respectful nod, Jellylorum quickly checks up on him, Skimbleshanks gives him the most honorable of bows, Demeter gives him a loving nuzzle, Etcetera practically jumps on him for play, and Alonzo shares another quick nuzzle with him before the ball. And despite the fact that he has a lot to do, Munk acknowledges every cat that comes his way and is sure to give them his full attention, even if it’s just for a moment. This quick, twenty-second scene establishes Munk as a calm, genial, and caring presence within the tribe. For the kittens he’s an affectionate father-figure, for the elders he’s a leader they both respect and love, and for the cats his own age he’s a close, caring friend.

-2016 Munk takes a moment or so to come back onstage, and when he does, he’s not terribly concerned with the others. In fact, he’s far more concerned with the fact that Victoria and Quaxo are opening up the ball here. The way he runs up to him- before he’s even finished with his solo-implies that opening up the ball is typically his job and he doesn’t appreciate Quaxo taking over. Once he’s back in the spotlight, though, he revels in it! He delivers his part less like a sermon and more like a solo, keeping an air of power and prestige about him throughout the entire thing. Regardless, Munk here can’t hide his excitement for the ball, nor his wonder at the thought of The Heaviside Layer. The other jellicles pick up on his energy, and react in turn. His verse soon ends and the jellicles all scramble. A few cats run up to Munk afterwards, namely Quaxo, Mungojerrie, and Rumpleteazer. While the twins apparently just want to annoy him, Quaxo seems to genuinely want his attention. He does a rather impressive little dance number, before standing at-attention to show respect. However, Munk shoos them all off, he’s got important grown-up things to be doing! This seems to be a rather common occurrence, as no one else really comes up to him afterwards, they all stay with their own cliques rather than bothering the leader. The only exception is Alonzo, whom Munk takes aside to give some quick, last-minute directions as they set-up for the next number.

The Old Gumbie Cat

Munkustrap opens up this number by introducing us to Jennyanydots, the titular Gumbie Cat. She’s very clearly his preferred candidate, outright saying that she’s the one he has in mind for the jellicle choice! The song outlines Jenny’s many good deeds, teaching the mice and beetles to be upstanding citizens of society, since we do in fact live in a society. The show accomplishes this by having the kittens dress up as mice and beetles to pantomime her students, before launching into a big dance number, allowing Jenny to show off her tap skills!

-The 1998 version opens with a quick, humorous scene of Misto assuming that Munk is going to be singing about him, and retreating in embarrassment when that doesn’t happen. While Munkustrap seems a bit embarrassed on Misto’s part, he keeps going nevertheless. As he’s addressing the younger cats here, he does his best to keep the slow opening exciting for them, enthusiastically pantomiming her “tiger stripes and leopard spots” as well as her favorite places to nap. As does this, Quaxo gets the idea to use his magic to open up the car that Jenny’s sleeping in. Munk quickly gives him permission to do this, indicating that he’s already aware of Misto’s magic on some level. Once Jenny arrives, he lets her take over. He’s still there narrating, but takes the lead from here on out. She can be seen pointing the kittens to their places, giving them directions, and is quick to assert her authority when they start messing around during the tap number. When Munk does come back into the number, it’s either to provide narration, or assist Jenny. He may be the leader, but he knows who the star is! As a result, his role in this number is rather minimal.

-The 2016 version opens this number with Munkustrap telling the others about Jennyanydots, much like the ‘98 version! However, Munk here is, once again, not terribly concerned with the others. He knows that they’re there and is clearly singing to them, but he’s paying more attention to how he’s coming off. He’s clearly directing the number here, and wants Jenny to look good, so he’s more focused on how the song is going than if the others are invested. Much like before, Quaxo uses his magic to reveal Jenny, however this goes entirely unnoticed and unremarked upon by Munk. It’s possible that he doesn’t even know that Quaxo was the one doing it. Jenny takes center-stage from here on, performing her famous tape number while the others pantomime her chores. No longer do they dress up as beetles, instead they use props like toothbrushes and balls! Munk takes on the director role, giving directions to the dancers and keeping things running smoothly, which lessens Jenny’s role in the song somewhat. While the song is about Jenny, Munk is very much running things behind the scenes. Even so, he’s nothing but admiring towards Jenny, and ensures the song shows her in the best possible light!

The Rum Tum Tugger

Just as the cats are congratulating Jenny on her number, who should burst in but Munk’s very own younger brother? The one, the only, The Rum Tum Tugger! He sets the entire ball off-course, by interrupting the night’s scheduled events with a big, self-aggrandizing number about his indecisive, rebellious nature. Reactions from the others vary, with the younger cats adoring him, while the older cats consider him a nuisance.

-’98 Tugger pops up just as Jenny has finished her number, and just as Munk was congratulating her on a job well done! As Tugger begins his own number, Munk helps Jenny offstage, effectively giving Tugger center-stage! His little brother wastes no time getting the kittens riled up and pissing off every adult he can! Of course, as the leader it falls to Munkustrap to fix this situation, right? Surely he can just step in and tell Tugger to cut it out, right? Well, I don’t know. Because he never does that. In fact, he never even comes close to doing that! He’s clearly not happy with his brother; if you look at him during any point in the song, it’s obvious he doesn’t approve! But he never actually moves to stop Tugger. The closest he comes to that is just trying to gesture to the other cats to come back, which obviously doesn’t work. It seems that Munk is, for whatever reason, not comfortable trying to discipline Tugger here. In fact, there’s a number of times that one of the older cats goes up to him and gestures that he should do something...but he still doesn’t. And this hesitation effectively gives Tugger free reign in this scene because, as the standing leader, Munk is the highest authority at this moment. So none of the other cats can stop him because the one person he might listen to, if only out of obligation, won’t step in. Thus, Munk doesn’t participate in this scene much. He mainly sticks to the back, tries to calm down his elders, and just waits for the whole thing to be over.

-After Jenny’s number is over, ‘16 Munk leads the jellicles in another chant of “jellicles ask because jellicles dare!” Presumably to remind them why they’re there. And it’s at that moment that Tugger pops up! He mockingly echoes Munk’s words, before strutting right over to him and laughing in his face! Munkustrap is immediately horrified, and joins up with Alonzo to try and get things under control. Irritated by his intrusion, they both mockingly call Tugger a “terrible bore,” causing him to take a swing at Alonzo. Munk can be spotted in the background several times during this song, pulling away the kittens, commiserating with the elders, and generally trying to put a stop to this whole thing! Though Munk’s disapproval is clear, Tugger in this scene essentially acts like an annoying younger sibling, absolutely reveling in his brother’s irritation! He even uses a dance with Mistoffelees as a chance to antagonize Munk! While every version of Tugger loves the spotlight, ‘16 Tugger is clearly at least partially-driven by a desire to get under Munk’s skin as much as possible. Of note in this scene is the character Demeter, who in both the ‘98 version and ‘16 version is implied to have a romantic relationship with Munk. In the 1998 version, Demeter is present for this scene, but doesn’t really participate in it. It’s implied that the loud party incited by Tugger’s entrance in some way triggered her PTSD, and she hisses at him when he comes near. But ‘16 Demeter is enthralled with Tugger’s entrance! While she never hits on him like characters such as Bomba or Cassie do, she’s clearly attracted to him, and Tugger singles her out for a dance early on. This seems to cause some additional stress for Munk, as the sight of her happily dancing along with the others visibly throws him off. If Demeter is aware of that, she seems entirely unconcerned by it, as she continues happily participating in the song. Even pulls out a camera to take pictures of Tugger with the audience! At that point, Munk seems to have reached the end of his patience, as he can be seen throwing up his hands in resignation.

Grizabella the Glamour Cat

Tugger’s song draws to a close, but he seems to have no intention of leaving, as he continues to bask in the glow of his fan’s adoration while they dance along to a musical reprise of his song. But all of that comes to a sudden stop with the appearance of a mangy, disheveled cat by the name of Grizabella. Her appearance immediately puts everyone on-edge, as they aren’t happy to see her and don’t want her around. Some of the younger cats try to reach out to her, but are quickly stopped by their elders, while Demeter and Bomba explain just who she is. Neither of them really say what it was that caused Griz to be hated by the tribe, but they say just enough to give the impression that she’s someone disgraceful to be avoided.

-98 Munk leaps into action the second he sees Grizabella, pushing away Mistoffelees before he can touch her, and assuming a protective stance. He hovers near her during the introduction, never once dropping his protective stance. Now, Grizabella’s not a villain. She’s not violent, nor malicious, nor physically intimidating. She’s just a sad, old queen who wants to come home. She’s not a threat, but Munkustrap sees her as one. It’s clear that she did something to upset not only the tribe, but him specifically. Enough for him to see her as something that he needs to protect the others from. While not as mean towards Griz as some of the others are, his actions hold far more weight than theirs, as he’s the standing leader. And while he doesn’t actively prevent the kittens from reaching out to her like the elders do, nor mock her like the younger toms, he makes it clear through his body language that Grizabella is NOT to be accepted! When Demeter attempts to reach out to her, Munk doesn’t stop her...he just stares intently at her while keeping his protective stance, silently making it clear that he doesn’t approve. Grizabella eventually grows frustrated with this, and angrily calls him out for looking down on her, causing him to look away in shame. Munk hesitates for a moment as Grizabella sings, briefly being forced to reconsider his attitude. But ultimately, he doesn't let up. With that, Grizabella finally gets the memo that she’s unwanted here, and begins to leave. Munk watches her intently as she does, keeping alert in case she tries anything, while Demeter begins her verse. Demeter clearly feels a great deal of sympathy for her and wants to do something, but doesn’t have the courage to go against the tribe like that. Bombalurina soon joins her, and the song takes on a far more venomous tone, especially as the other jellicles join in. Munk stands center stage amongst the rest of the tribe as Grizabella hobbles off. Of note here is that Electra, the kitten who adores Munk the most, can be seen cowering between his legs, but he doesn’t seem to notice her at all. Munk is shown to have a very affectionate relationship with her, as she often goes to him for comfort and attention, which he readily gives! The fact that he fails to notice her unhappiness here is actually quite out-of-character for him, and indicative of how much Grizabella’s appearance upsets him.

-16 Munk initially hesitates in reacting to Grizabella’s entrance, leaving Alonzo to pull away the kittens in his place. Munk is slow to react here, neither welcoming nor rebuking Griz as she comes in. While he’s clearly made uncomfortable by her presence, he’s uncertain what to do with her. He doesn’t see her as a threat nor someone he needs to protect the others from, rather, he’s more saddened by her presence than anything else. The others, however, very much see her as an intruder, and are quick to reject her as she comes near. And while Munk isn’t really sure what to do about Griz, he’s very quick to reprimand the younger toms who scratch at her, which is something his ‘98 fails to do. During her solo, Grizabella calls out Munk specifically, never once breaking eye-contact with him. Munk struggles under her gaze, clearly uncomfortable with being put on the spot, and looks for an out. That ‘out’ comes in the form of Demeter. It’s easy to miss, but you can see Munk noticing Demeter inching closer to begin her verse, giving him the chance to leave. Demeter here has absolutely no sympathy for Grizabella. She sings her verse with a sneer and a wicked smile, she seems to almost enjoy the sight of Grizabella’s shame. By mockingly recounting her story to the other jellicles, Demeter and Bomba reaffirm to the tribe that Grizabella is someone they should stay away from. In addition, this takes the pressure off Munk to make a decision. He’s clearly uncomfortable with the public shaming, to the point where you can still see him standing nervously off to the side during the duet, but he doesn’t want to go against the tribe. So, he gives Demeter and Bomba the spotlight, and doesn’t intervene. As the standing leader, Munk has the power to officially let Grizabella back in the tribe and end the shaming, so his inaction allows it to continue. Munk is tense, apprehensive, but also uncertain as he watches Grizabella leave. He’s ready to jump into action if she tries anything, but she doesn’t. And while he intently watches her leave, the other jellicles hang back in the yard, leaving Munkustrap as the only one who sees her off.

Bustopher Jones

Once Grizabella’s been shooed out, Bustopher Jones the cat-about-town comes in! His visit immediately livens up the atmosphere, as everyone scrambles to tidy things up to his liking. Bustopher is a cat who frequents several gentlemens clubs across London for fine dining, which the others take as a sign of wealth and status, and treat Bustopher accordingly. The majority of the song consists of Bustopher recounting the many clubs he frequents during this polite social visit.

-When Butstopher arrives in the ‘98 version, Munk very much still has his focus on Grizabella’s departure. He’s so focused on it that he fails to notice Bustopher’s entrance, as Jenny tries to give him a bit of reassurance as the kittens scramble to catch a glimpse of Griz as she leaves. Once they do notice Bustopher, they immediately change gears! Misto takes the lead in Munk’s absence, immediately directing all the toms in the area to stand at attention to greet Bustopher. While Jenny regroups with the other queens, Munk runs back to the tire where Misto is waiting. The tuxedo tom is clearly proud of himself for handling this so well and reaches out to Munk for approval, which he quickly receives. Though he’s trying to re-orient his focus back to the ball, he hasn’t failed to notice Misto’s efforts, and appreciates him. Possibly in an attempt to make-up for lost time, Munk puts himself right in front of Bustopher’s way, giving him a smile and a salute. This is the only cat he ever gives an outright salute to, implying that Bustopher is, in some way, of a higher status than he is. Not high enough to be revered as Old Deuteronomy is, but high enough that he needs to show proper respect. Once respect has been paid, Bustopher indicates that he wants to leave, to which Munk obliges. However, Misto rushes in to try and prevent him from leaving so early, which causes Munk to change gears completely! He urges Bustopher to stay for just a bit longer, prompting the other toms to ready a place for him to sit so they can gather around and hear about his clubs. Munk shifts back into his leader role as he guides the others, and acts as a calm foil to Misto’s eager-to-please self without undermining him. He recognizes that this is an important guest, but that Misto clearly has some emotional attachment to Bustopher, and so lets him take the lead here. Even lets Misto guide him and the others on standing at-attention, an indulgent smile on his face the entire time. As the song ends and Jones bids the audience “Toodle pip!” Munk can be seen in the background giving one final salute. (This analysis was helped in part by @sevenkittensinatrenchcoat‘s Bustopher Jones posts)

-Just as Grizabella the Glamour Cat fades out, the kittens all scramble to get a look at Griz as she leaves, and right as Bustopher Jones comes in! Munk, still shaken from the last number, is caught completely off-guard by the new arrival! At first his attention is split between the kittens and Jones, but Jenny and Jelly swoop in to gather the kittens, giving Munk a chance to greet their guest. Good thing too, as he’s able to pull away Mungo and Rumple before they did something to upset him! He and Alonzo immediately start tending to Bustopher, apologizing for the twins, and greeting him properly. While Jenny and Jelly handle the kittens, he and the other toms get into formation to salute their important guest, before heading off-stage to give Bustopher the spotlight. When Munk finally does come back on-stage, he and the others have prepared several dishes of food for Bustopher’s enjoyment! Unfortunately, I don’t really have as much to say about this version of the number as I did the ‘98 version. As Munk is off-stage for much of this number, there’s not much in the way of character moments that can really be analyzed. Munk ultimately leaves much of this number to Jennyanydots and Jellylorum, who are shown to be quite fond of Bustopher. When Munk does reappear, it’s mainly just to be part of the choreography.

Current Impressions

-2016 Munk on the whole seems younger than his 1998 counterpart. While they both occupy the position of standing leader, ‘16 Munk is more self-centered in his leadership. He’s not terribly attentive to the others, can micromanage at times, but is uncertain of himself in stressful situations. 1998 Munk, on the other hand, fits the leadership role near-perfectly! He’s attentive without being smothering, confident but not arrogant, and is quick to act whenever danger occurs! He’s clearly been acting as a leader for a while now, and has settled nicely into the role. ‘16 Munk is still finding his footing as a leader, and has that youthful self-centeredness holding him back somewhat.

-2016 Munk has fewer personal relationships in the tribe than 1998 Munk. While both of them are shown to be close with Alonzo and Demeter, ‘16 Munk lacks connection to younger cats like the kittens, while ‘98 Munk is quite close with them! While he’s still close with Alonzo, ‘16 Lonz is more deferential to Munk than his ‘98 counterpart, implying a more work-based relationship. And while he’s implied to be romantically involved with Demeter, they don’t share the same gentle affection with each other as ‘98 Deme and Munk. ‘98 Munk is quick to give and receive physical affection through nuzzles and pets, while ‘16 Munk has yet to do anything of the sort. One relationship that’s notably different between productions is his relationship with Misto. ‘98 Munk is very patient with and caring towards Mistoffelees, sensing his desire to prove himself, and giving him little opportunities to do so throughout the ball! But ‘16 Munk’s interactions with Misto is limited to shooing him away and briefly standing between him and Tugger. It’s hard to tell how he regards Mistoffelees here because their interactions up to this point have been pretty impersonal! While 1998 Munk serves as a mentor figure to Mistoffelees, the best that can be said about 2016 Munk is that he’s aware Misto exists.

-Something to note is that the 2016 revival has noticeably less kittens in the show than the 1998 version. The 1998 version had about eight kittens, four toms and four queens, with characters like Plato and Victoria being on the cusp of adulthood while still being taken care of by their elders. The revival had about three, with Victoria and Plato no longer being characterized as among them. This greatly reduces the number of kittens for Munk to interact with, and as such, reduces Munk’s protector/caretaker role. Bring back Etcetera you cowards.

-1998 Munk is defined by his role as a storyteller and a protector; his top priority in any scene is making sure his tribe is safe and happy. 2016 Munk is defined by his role as a leader and prince; his top priority in any scene is to uphold the traditions and keep things running smoothly.

#cats #cats the musical #cats 1998 #cats 2016 #munkustrap #analysis #demeter #alonzo #rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees #victoria #jennyanydots #grizabella #bustopher jones #electra #etcetera #sillabub

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thebakingqueen5 · 3 years

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KW 2021: Tease

Day 6 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Tease!

I might have stuffed up the use of this word and its definition in context but shhhh it’s fine and this is cute.

Links: FF.net | AO3

Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 6. Tease (verb): gently pull or comb (tangled wool, hair, etc.) into separate strands. Aka the take on the “tease” prompt that no one (not even me) expected.

Word Count: 1.8K

It had been a tiring, tension-filled day.

The war ended five, maybe six months prior, and the four nations were still partaking in the grueling process of learning to work together after a century’s worth of fighting. Considering that a group of teenagers were the reason there was any hope of amity in the first place, it came as little surprise that most of the pressure to arrange and facilitate treaties and peace talks fell on the Gaang, much to their chagrin.

And so here they were, utterly exhausted after a long day of trying to convince the Earth King and Zuko that violence was, in fact, bad, and stressed out of their minds, aching for a distraction.

It certainly didn’t help that tonight, of all nights, Katara’s long, dark hair was refusing to cooperate despite her having just stepped out of the shower a mere 10 minutes past. No matter how many times she ran the whalebone comb through her thick locks, nothing seemed to help, and her patience was quickly dissipating.

“Spirits, Zuko and Kuei are going to drive me absolutely crazy, sweetie.” Aang ranted as he entered her room, closing the door shut behind him as he made wild gestures with his hands.

“They’re both so… stubborn! And self-righteous and it’s getting us nowhere!” he huffed in frustration. “I wish they could just- oh.”

The airbender immediately faltered, finally noticing the appearance, or rather the clothing, of his girlfriend seated in front of a square mirror, nightgown riding quite high up her thigh.

“Sorry,” he blushed, eyes darting around the room to look anywhere, absolutely anywhere except at her to keep what little modesty they had left between them. “I didn’t know you had already showered and changed- I really should have knocked.”

Katara rolled her eyes, a slight pink tint rising to her cheeks as she returned to the task at hand: attempting to tame the lion’s mane she called her hair resting atop her head at that very moment.

“It’s fine, Aang,” she laughed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need to be embarrassed, really. Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t already seen.”

The waterbender snuck a quick glance at her boyfriend, and, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure he could get any redder if he tried. A tomato would have been jealous of the vibrant hue of Aang’s face, and he couldn’t stop staring at the floor, gaze entirely focused on the wooden boards beneath him.

The boy remained silent, and guilt began to fill Katara’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she frowned, standing up. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can go change if you want-”

Aang instantly looked up from the ground, quick to clarify his thoughts. “No, sweetie. It’s not that! It’s just- you look absolutely beautiful, and I don’t want me subconsciously staring at you to make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy around me.”

Katara’s eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise, and she patted a spot on the edge of the mattress, beckoning for him to come sit near her before turning back and glaring at herself in the mirror.

“Believe me, sweetie, there is very little you can do to make me feel uncomfortable around you. Honestly, it’s a bit of a compliment knowing that’s how I seem in your eyes,” she said shyly.

The airbender grinned and walked up to her. Feeling a little emboldened, he tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek, chin barely reaching an inch above her shoulder.

“You could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me,” he murmured as his stormy eyes met her cerulean ones through the mirror.

“Really?” she raised an eyebrow and gestured to the mess on her head. “Even with this bird’s nest?”

“Always,” Aang smiled earnestly. “Speaking of, though, do you need some help with that?”

“I appreciate the offer, Aang, but I’ve been trying for the last half hour now and you aren’t exactly the most experienced with hair.”

“Well, maybe a new perspective is just what you need.”

He gently pulled her back towards the mattress a few feet away from the dresser with the mirror and sat her down in front of him. Rolling her eyes, the waterbender handed him her comb, but he simply cast it aside, instead using his nimble fingers to work through the knots and tangles in her hair.

Katara was right- he did have minimal experience with hair, not having much of his own, but he often played with hers when they spent time together. He knew what relaxed her and what didn't, which gave him the perfect means to seize this opportunity and prove her wrong, while also, of course, helping the two unwind and spend some time with one another.

The waterbender had already been quite frustrated when she had started working through her hair, and her movements had reflected that. She was stressed and antsy, and she combed harshly and roughly, only compressing the knotted hair to the end of the strand and making it harder to get out. Between that and the day she had, she had been close to tears and Aang’s gentle touch was just what she needed.

Much of Aang’s stress had been alleviated when he had entered the room earlier in simply being able to see and embrace his girlfriend. Because of this, he was able to take his time and the change of pace was nice for the both of them.

He worked slowly and methodically, fingers lightly massaging the top of her scalp before moving down to dampen and separate her wavy tresses into individual strips of hair with the help of some waterbending. He took care to not tug too hard on any one strand, having heard many a horror story from Katara in the past with her unable to tolerate anyone else handling her sensitive locks. The airbender was determined to make it a pleasant experience for the both of them, and it was.

In fact, Katara had been mildly shocked by the sheer love and effort she felt Aang direct into detangling her hair. It was sweet seeing him put so much energy towards trying something new just to help her, and the tension in her mind that had been knotted up began to unravel as well.

“Halfway,” Aang whispered, breaking her out of her thoughts. His gaze was still intense and focused on her unruly strands as she sighed softly and leaned ever so slightly back into him.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she murmured back. She closed her eyes as Aang’s rhythmic yet feathery touches to her scalp soothed her and then gave herself a quick look in the mirror through her peripheral vision- her hair was already looking a lot better and far more tame than it had been 15 minutes ago.

“That’s alright, just have a little more faith in your amazing boyfriend next time, yeah?” he winked with a smile, hands moving the hair he had untangled to the front as he directed his concentration to the last section.

This section was by far going to be the hardest- most of the strands were embedded into a few large and messy knots creating quite a complex network. Nevertheless, Aang was up to the challenge. He began humming an old Air Nomad folk tune, one of the many they’d perform at Yangchen’s Festival, causing Katara to hum along with him as he spread apart the last few unruly waves of hair.

After finishing, he steadily ran his fingers through her hair like a comb, taking extra care to caress the nape of her neck and back of her head as she sighed happily, and gave it one last sweep with the whale-bone comb.

“All done,” he said, tucking a lock behind her ear when she turned around to face him.

The waterbender beamed before lightly pushing him down on the bed as they both sank into the mattress.

“I take it you enjoyed it?” Aang laughed, looking up at her.

“Very much so,” Katara responded. She then carefully angled herself so that she was lying pressed up against Aang’s side, head resting in the crook of his neck.

“It was pretty relaxing for me too,” Aang blushed. “You know I love playing with your hair and this just kinda took it to another level. I’d be happy to do it for you in the future if you ever find yourself fighting with that comb again, that is.”

“I’d like that, Aang. A lot,” she smiled shyly. “It was great to just… unwind. Have you there with me and just relax. I was basically about to cry when you came in and you just melted all my worries away with those magical hands of yours.”

The airbender chuckled, snaking his arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers. “Glad to hear it, sweetie. It’s getting late though, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Time for some rest?”

Katara wordlessly nodded, sighing and closing her eyes as Aang did the same and blew out the candles lighting up the room.

“Thank you for this, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tara. Good night.”

The two were taken away into the dream realm, but an unspoken custom was crafted that night. It became a ritual, a way for both of them to calm down and escape the high stress levels of their everyday lives.

When Katara found her dad kissing Malina and it felt like her whole world was crumbling down around her, Aang had snuck into her room that night and combed and plaited her hair until they drifted off into each other’s arms.

When Aang had confided in the waterbender about feeling anxious and insecure about becoming a new father after she had informed him of her pregnancy, Katara had shown up to the stables with a comb and some apples for Appa in tow. The two ended up assuaging each other’s concerns while leaning back against the fluffy bison, much to their attention-seeking flying lemur’s annoyance.

Whether they were stressing over not being able to find an old book from the Southern Water Tribe after moving to Air Temple Island or had just come home after a near-death experience with the most dangerous bloodbender in the world, one of the two would always sit the stressed one down and grab a comb.

It never became a chore or something they dreaded; it was almost a secret love language for the couple. It was a way of reminding each other that no matter what was going on in their lives, they would always find time for each other and help one another. It pulled Aang and Katara out of some of their lowest, darkest moments, and it only accentuated their highs.

Such a simple, pure act born out of nothing but love and a desire to help- it should’ve been insignificant, a one-time thing, but it became so much more. To Katara and Aang, it meant the world.

#kataang week #kataang week 2021 #kataangtag #kw 2021 #kataang #aang x katara #atla fanfiction #aang #katara #fluff #romance

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eddiesfaerie · 4 years

Text

Long Sleeves (part 2)

Summary: Pushed to its absolute limits; a retelling of the past 4 months of you and Charlie’s complicated relationship (13.5k words, i dont know what to say other than im so sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, major angst, annoying fluff, mentions of divorce, affairs, age gap (between Charlie and reader, previously implied), nudes, phone sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, some size kink, pain kink(?), rough (and angry and sad) sex, dom and sub themes, spanking, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), i also mention christmas a lot at the beginning which isn't really a warning but i know not everyone celebrates it!

Part 1

A/N: for those of you who are not a fan of d*ddy kink but who may still want to read this; i only use it between the time stamps of Christmas Eve to March, following the March timestamp there will be no mention or use of that word! just thought i’d mention cause the ending is cathartic!

LATE DECEMBER - APARTMENT

With Henry and Nicole staying in LA until after the holidays, Charlie would be alone with you until he left again.

And he didn’t leave your apartment once in the meantime.

Making up for lost time, is what you could call it.

The hours, days, spent in between sheets, on countertops, on couches, in the shower. Like he was trying to mark your apartment with his scent, make sure you never forgot him when he would leave again for LA in a few days.

You would remember him everywhere.

The way your knees bruised on the tile floor of your shower. The welts on your ass from his harsh hand. The bite marks on your shoulders, the bruises littering your neck, stomach, anywhere he could reach.

You would remember him everywhere.

The thousands of ‘good girls’ he praised you with and the thousand and one ‘fucking sluts’ he punished you with. Charlie was coming to know your insides and outs better than you could at this point, it was a certain level of familiarity you were happy with him reaching. He was becoming more and more comfortable around you.

You could tell not just because of the frequent sex, the hard fucking, but because of how he was opening up to you about the divorce. About what was really going on down in LA, what was happening with Henry, what had been happening (or more so, not happening) with Nicole for nearly the past year.

He told you about how she ignored him, refused to have sex with him, even touch him. How he had found solace in a one time affair with their stage director, how he just missed feeling needed, feeling wanted by the only person who was supposed to fulfill that innate human desire.

He told you everything he could think of, every little detail. He was tired of hiding, holding it in.

He realized he would have to tell you when he would get a random call from his lawyer or from Nicole herself, when he would talk to Henry. When he yelled through the phone or hung up crying, slamming his device against the wall, nearly breaking it.

He knew he would have to explain it to you, he owed it to you.

You deserved to know, especially now that he was involving you in this to some degree. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to involve you but he needed you more than he needed anyone else right now. More than he was ready to admit perhaps, just how much he truly needed you.

And that’s why going back to LA would be the hardest thing he’s done all week.

He stood at the door, dressed, suitcase packed, heart lurching, thumping low in his chest with dread, resent, fear, and some feeling he couldn’t fucking name.

Lo-

“I wish you could come.” He says instead, the saddest smile you’ve seen adorning his perfect lips. You smile back, just as sadly. You know there was absolutely no reason for you to go to LA with him, to spend Christmas with Nicole and Henry and whatever extended family would be there as well. It would never happen, never work. At least, not right now. Not like this.

The divorce proceedings were on break till after the holidays, both in and against Charlie’s favour. It meant not giving Henry two Christmases, one last normal one. But it also meant pretending, indulging in that… façade that him and Nicole have been keeping up for too fucking long now.

The deed would be done sometime in February, maybe March, Charlie couldn’t remember. He tried not to think about it too much. Think about losing everything-

“I know. But you’ll enjoy yourself. Henry will be happy.” You remind him, letting him hold you so, so tightly. His vice grip, digging into you, trying to anchor himself to you.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you alone during fucking Christmas.” You laugh.

“I’m going home to see my parents, I won’t be alone, Charlie.” He nods his head, hearing the words you’re saying but he still can’t stop the guilt from creeping up on him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s abandoning you. He won’t abandon you, like everyone’s abandoned him. He just hoped you wouldn’t abandon him either.

Charlie presses his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your waist and pressing your body against his. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I’ll call you this time, I promise. Every night… I’ll call.”

“Okay.” You giggle, believing him.

His hand sneaks its way up your jaw, gripping your cheeks gently but angling your face for you to meet his dark, dark eyes. You know that look, so familiar now. You feel the pressure start to rise inside you, heat pooling in the very pit of your stomach.

“You’ll be good for me?” You nod immediately, fervently.

“Yes, Charlie.”

“If I ask you to send me pictures, what’ll you do?”

“S-send you pictures.” Breathless, your voice sounds so breathless. Your eyelids threatening to close but you keep them on him, always.

“That’s my good girl.” He growls, tilting your face all the way to his lips, a kiss, a seal of approval. You moan against his lips, letting your eyelids flutter shut, imagining yourself in all those new lingerie sets he’s bought you over the last week.

Your early Christmas presents, he had told you.

“The… the taxis waiting out front.” You say against his lips, not wanting him to leave just yet, but also not wanting him to leave you high and dry before getting on a plane set for across the country for at least another week, probably longer. Charlie ignores you, shoving his tongue down your throat, his grip on your jaw moving down to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, fingers ghosting over bruised skin, enough to make you fall further into his chest, gripping his perfectly ironed shirt, ruining it.

He pulls away all too soon, no doubt doing this to you on purpose. It was 7am and you were already whimpering into his parted lips.

“I-I’ll miss you.” You admit, heart crashing into your ribs.

You hadn’t meant to say it but he was making your brain foggy, your thoughts were jumbled together and you just let it slip past your lips. Charlie stares at you, red lips swollen like petals, cheeks matching, hair perfectly in place with your help nothing but fifteen minutes earlier. It feels like a lifetime has passed before he says anything back to you. The taxi honks outside on the curb.

“I’ll… I’ll miss you more.”

CHRISTMAS EVE - UPSTATE NEW YORK

It was relieving to be away from the city, surrounded by more wilderness, more foliage, more trees, more animals. A literal breath of fresh air that wasn’t tainted by sewage and the ever present scent of smoke coming from somewhere or someone.

You loved coming up here. Escaping. You hadn’t been back home since last Christmas. You moved away when you were quite young, the relationship you had with your parents was complicated, clashing personalities, it was difficult to understand each other when you were younger but there was clarity that came with age. They finally respected you, and you finally respected them as well, understanding them better.

You think spending so much time with Charlie and Henry gave you an insight into parenthood that you had never been privy too beforehand. You were thankful for that, not only did you appreciate your parents more, but now parenthood had many more benefits that you had never considered before. Magical, rewarding, fulfilling.

Charlie kind of made you feel that way too.

It was still awkward at times with your parents, that was unavoidable. No siblings around meant all eyes were on you. They were asking for too many details, prying too deep and you just never felt comfortable indulging in yourself this much. But you always came prepared, it was the holidays after all, things always got weird.

After Christmas Eve dinner, your parents invited you out on a walk with them around their little town. They did this every night apparently, just walking together, talking. It was cute, endearing. You declined their offer, however. Thankfully you weren’t sixteen anymore, and your parents didn’t press you any further to come along with them like they used to.

They’d be back in thirty minutes.

That gave you thirty minutes to call Charlie. Just as he instructed.

Earlier this evening, as your parents were beginning to prepare dinner, Charlie’s family was just finishing lunch out in California. A perfect time for a perfect distraction, or intrusion.

You had packed a few sets of the new lingerie Charlie had bought you, not knowing what he would want to see on you or how often you should switch it up. You nearly brought all of them but didn’t want to take up too much space in your luggage and be suspicious.

You put one on that you thought Charlie was particularly fond of, a skimpy little number that revealed more skin than hid, it’s colour complimenting your skin like it was made for you, made to hug your figure in all the right places. You forgot that Charlie had such a visual mind sometimes, he knew exactly what you would look good in.

Nervous and a bit shaky, you tucked yourself away into your childhood bedroom to take your pictures for Charlie. You felt like a teenager again.

Charlie was not pleased with the timing of your pictures, seeing as he was surrounded by family and innocently looked at his phone only to get a glimpse of your beautiful fucking body, all the blood going from his head straight to his cock. He nearly fainted. His cheeks lit up like Nicole’s Christmas tree and he stumbled from his chair. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be more occupied with paying attention to Henry than to notice him sprint to the bathroom to scold you over text.

That was hours ago. Charlie had told you to call him exactly at 11pm eastern time. That was only 8pm where he was but he said it worked out perfectly so you didn’t argue. You just waited patiently on your bed, number dialed on your phone and ready to call, all the clock head to do was strike eleven.

Finally, the clocks ding around the house, your thumb flies across your screen and you hold the phone up to your ear, worrying the flesh of your lip between your teeth. It rings once, twice, three times before you can hear his breath on the other end. It already sounds heavy.

“H-hi Charlie.”

“What are you wearing.” His voice is strained, maybe he’s already holding himself in his hand.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” You twist your fingers together nervously. Charlie grunts on the other end, a frustrated sound.

“I f-fucking told you, no pleasantries. I-it’ll only make us miss each other more-” You stayed quiet. You knew he was right, but you already missed him so much and hearing his voice was making it worse. You felt your lip tremble, you missed his arms, his warmth, his-

“Are you fucking pouting right now?” His voice was firm, sturdy, and annoyed.

“No, Charlie.” A lie.

“Good, now tell me what you’re wearing.”

“I’m wearing your favourite, the one from earlier. I’m barely covered.”

“Oh I know baby, your tits looked so fhuuuucking good in those pictures you sent me.” The fluctuation in his voice was rising and falling randomly, you could picture his hand wrapped tightly around his angry cock, the head flushed red, precum dribbling out the top, just begging to be licked. He tasted so good…

“A-are you touching yourself?”

“No, you didn’t tell me to.”

“G-good girl, you’re so fucking good to me, you know that?” You pictured his chest, the way he flushes right in the center, between his pecs. The way the red splotches climb up, up, up his neck and onto his cheeks and up to the peaks of his ears. You thought about the heavy rise and fall of his chest as well, how fucking wide he is, how much bigger than you he is. You audibly moaned.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“Y-you.”

“Be specific- fuck.”

“Um, your- your cock. How big it is, how big you are. How it feels when you stretch me out, when you go so deep I feel you in my stomach-”

“Keep going baby, I’m… I’m so f-UHcking close.”

“I think about the first time, a-a lot. How it felt the first time you split me open- fuck Charlie you’re so big I never think you’re going to fit but I always take it, I-”

“Yeah, yeah you always take me like the good little girl you are, such a good fucking slut for me, taking my cock in that tight fucking pussy.” He sneers, you can tell he’s talking from behind clenched teeth and you moan again, loudly. Your brain short circuits, what comes out next, comes from the deepest part of you.

“Oh Daddy,-”

“What did you just call me?”

Fuck.

You hadn’t really meant to say it, you were just so caught up in the moment, the feeling, the sound of him that you completely lost your inhibitions and let it slip out. You expected him to just end the call now.

“Charlie I’m so sorry-” He cuts you off with a firm call of your name.

“I asked you a question. What… did you call me?” Your stomach flips and your insides threaten to spill past your lips and onto your floor.

“Daddy.” You say so quietly you’re not sure he even heard you.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Daddy.” Frustration laces your voice as you project the word throughout the entire upper floor of the house. He definitely hears it that time. You think you hear Charlie moan on the other end but you don’t want to be too hopeful.

“You wanna call me Daddy? Hmm? You want me to be your fucking Daddy, is that it?”

“N-no…” You’re not sure what he’s getting at, but you feel like he’s just going to torment you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you little slut.” His breathing picks up again, his voice booming, heavy breaths between every few words. You can hear the slick of his hand as it moves quickly over his length.

“Yes! Yes I- I want you to…”

“Say it.”

“I want you to be my Daddy.” Charlie moans loudly again, his hand somehow moving faster. You can tell he’s close. You can’t believe he likes this. You love it.

“Yeah, I’ll be your fucking Daddy. You better fucking call me that non stop when I get back to you, my sweet little girl.” You moan this time, squeezing your thighs together, feeling your arousal trail slightly down onto your thigh. You were so distracted you hadn’t realized you’d completely soaked through your underwear.

“I will, Daddy.”

“Fuck, I’m-”

Confidence surged you. You still couldn’t believe he liked this but you finally gave in, feeding his desires. When you spoke, your voice was filled with something wicked, sickeningly sweet and most of all, evil.

“Are you going to cum for me, Daddy? Make a mess for me?”

You felt like you hadn’t even finished your sentence before a loud moan punched through your phone and into your ear. You moaned as well just from his release, feeling it in your mind and in your chest, squeezing your thighs again for any sort of friction. Charlie continued to moan through his release, you pictured his silky cum painting his taut abdomen and his beautiful chest. You imagined it blending in with his moles and freckles, you pictured yourself rubbing your hands through it, massaging it into his skin before licking it all up.

He wouldn’t even have to ask, you would just do it.

“Y-you’re fucking perfect… you fucking angel.” He’s so breathless, completely spent and wasted from your voice alone. You felt so hot. You needed to relieve yourself but you didn’t know if you should ask for permission or not. Before you could even debate it, Charlie spoke again.

“Go to bed, wouldn’t want Santa catching you up like this.” You laughed softly at his comment. Static on the other end. He said your name as if to check if you were still there.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

The line went dead.

JANUARY - BROOKLYN

You had sent Charlie pictures nearly every night after that. And you two called each other every other night as well.

He asked it of you and you couldn’t say no to your Charlie. It was a bit tricky while you were still staying with your parents, he would simply text you and you would have to scurry off to your room or the bathroom and snap as many flattering pictures of yourself as you could. You tried to make it seem less suspicious by drinking tons of water and just blaming it on your bladder.

But the new year had finally come, and you were now back home in your apartment. Charlie would be returning tonight and you were counting down the hours until you saw his taxi pull up on the curb side. You distracted yourself until then.

At around 7pm, you got an unexpected call from Charlie.

“Hi.” You felt like your smile was audible through the phone.

“Hey,” Charlie chuckled darkly, his voice always sounding deeper and richer through the receiver. “I just got in. I was wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Us? He didn’t mean….

“It’s just me and Henry, Nicole’s uh, staying in LA until further notice. If you’re busy or if you can’t that’s-”

“I would love to,” The fact that Charlie would ask you to spend dinner with him and Henry warmed your heart beyond comprehension. Your weeks of loneliness suddenly dissolving into the background and becoming nothing more than a distant memory, a distant feeling. “but is Henry okay with it?”

“Of course he’s okay with it. He’s actually been talking about you quite a bit. I think he might have missed you more than I did,” Charlie choked a bit on his last words, “not that I didn’t miss you, I just meant that he, you know, Henry was-”

“It’s okay, Charlie I understood what you meant.” You giggle, finding his slight awkwardness endearing. How was it that you both were having incredible phone sex for the past two weeks and now you both sounded like teenagers calling their crush?

“So, you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll come.” Charlie groans at your suggestive tone.

“Don’t start now.” His voice stern, unwavering. You laugh again, more mischievous this time. You test the waters, not stepping in enough to drown... just yet.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes, is that okay, Daddy?” You hear rustling on the other end of the phone and then Charlie cursing a low ‘fuck!’. You think you hear Henry’s voice too, followed by more of Charlie’s now muffled voice.

“Ten minutes is fine.”

Henry had bombarded you at the door, he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs and hugged himself tightly to you. It took everything in you not to cry, you knelt down so you could hug him back.

“I missed you.” He dug his cheek into your shoulder. This kid was the sweetest, he would melt your heart every time.

“I missed you too, Henry. How was LA? How was Christmas? Tell me everything!”

Henry grabbed your hand and dragged you into the living room where all his new toys were laid out, ready for him to play with. As he was pulling you there, Charlie emerged from around the doorway like an angel himself. Your eyes met and you felt as if you were moving in slow motion, and not being dragged at top speed by his child.

“Hi.” You greet, almost shyly. Unsure of how to act around him with Henry present.

“Hi.” Charlie repeats, grabbing your free hand for the briefest moment, giving it a tight squeeze until it's pulled out of his grasp by Henry.

You’re not sure how long you spent playing on the floor with Henry, him retelling you the events of the last two or three weeks while Charlie sat on the couch, glancing at the two of you every now and then. You tried not to think about the position you were in, kneeling on the floor, carpet digging into your knees, Charlie sitting tall above you on the couch, looking down at you from between his parted knees. It looked like such a natural position for him, almost like he was too comfortable like this, too familiar with it. You wanted to-

The doorbell rang, making both you and Henry jump from the sharp noise.

“Henry would you like to go pay the pizza guy?” Charlie asked, already pulling his wallet from the pocket in his pants.

“Yes!” Henry shouted, jumping up from the carpet, whisking the crisp bills from his dad’s hands and running to the door to answer it. Charlie figured he had a minute or less before Henry came back.

He lifted himself from the couch, taking your jaw into his hand and bringing you to stand with him. He crashed his lips into yours, violently shoving his tongue down your throat and you had to bite back the moan that threatened to spill through your lips and into his awaiting mouth. His hands had a deadly grip on your waist and on your jaw, you only wished he would ease up because you didn’t want Henry to wonder why you both looked so flustered.

“I can’t wait until tonight.” He said against your lips, his hand on your jaw moving to trail down your throat.

“W-what’s tonight?”

“I got it!” Henry came rushing back into the living room but not before Charlie pushed himself away from you and let go of your throat and waist. It looked like nothing had happened.

“Let’s go set it up in the dining room.” Henry stomped his foot in retaliation, whining slightly.

“Nooo, Dad, can we please watch a movie with pizza?”

“Henry, we have a guest-”

“Please!”

“What movie do you want to watch?” You asked, budding in, trying to stop a tantrum in its tracks. Henry’s eyes lit up and he glanced between you and his dad.

“Have you ever seen ‘Frozen’?” You actually had, but he didn’t need to know that. You gasped.

“I haven’t!” You glanced over at Charlie. His eyes were dark but an innocent smirk pulled at his lips.

He was thinking about how this just meant it would take longer before he could finally fuck you again, a two hour movie cockblock. It had been over two weeks since he had felt your body against his, nothing to satiate him but the sound of your voice and some mediocre photos. Charlie thinks he should show you how to take some really good ones sometime soon. Not that yours didn’t most definitely do the trick, he just thinks he likes the idea of directing you, positioning you...

But Charlie was also thinking about how he found it very sweet, very heartwarming to watch you bond with Henry. He loved watching you have such a good time with him and treat him like a person, not just a child. And he could tell that Henry really liked spending time with you too. Not just from how much he talked about you when you weren’t around, but the smile that lit up his face when you came over or when he went over to your place.

It was getting harder and harder to get Henry to smile like that.

You all sat down on the couch, little wooden fold up tables in front of your seat to hold your plate of pizza slices. Henry sitting between you and Charlie, of course.

Henry sang along passionately to almost every song, sometimes with bites of pizza in his mouth and Charlie would scold him for it, afraid he would choke but Henry ignored his dad’s requests, just continuing to belt out along with the characters on screen.

As the movie progressed and neared the end, you could feel Charlie getting more and more sleepy on his side of the couch. He would rearrange his sitting position every now and then and his eyes would close for minutes at a time. He looked so soft with his arms folded across his chest, his eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, his lips coming to rest in the softest little pout. You nudge Henry gently and he turns to look up at you.

“Looks like your dad’s asleep.” You giggle, pointing to Charlie. Henry immediately jumps on him, startling Charlie awake.

“Dad I can’t believe you fell asleep again!” Henry pouts, grabbing Charlie’s face between his hands and shaking him from side to side. Charlie grabs his son’s little hands to stop his efforts, sitting himself up straighter on the couch and hugging Henry to his chest.

“Mmm’wasn’t sleeping.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you go get your daddy a blanket so he can get comfy for the rest of the movie.” You wink at Henry, sending him searching upstairs for the perfect blanket for his dad.

Charlie groans and drops his head on the back of the couch, his hand draping across is as well, coming to rest on the very tip of your shoulder. He wraps his fingers along your muscles, squeezing the flesh into his palm, tightly.

“I heard that.”

“Heard what?” Daddy.

His head lifts from the couch to glare at you, his stare deadly, shooting right to the deepest parts of you. Why were you teasing him like this?

“Dad is the dinosaur one okay?” Henry calls from up the stairs, slowly making his way down and back to the couch.

“It’s perfect, Henry. Thank you.” Charlie takes the blanket from Henry and kisses the top of his forehead before he settles back on the couch, cuddling up next to his dad.

You unpause the movie, admiring the two of them every now and then, watching Henry becoming more and more sleepy as the film nears its end. As the credits roll, Charlie removes the blanket from around himself and moves it to wrap around Henry.

“I’m going to go tuck him in.” Charlie whispers to you. You nod sweetly at the two of them. Charlie carries Henry in his arms towards the stairs before Henry grumbles, calling out your name to you back on the couch.

“Will you come too?”

You look to Charlie for guidance, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries. You’ve never been in the upstairs part of their apartment, you’ve never seen the rest of their place, Henry’s room, Charlie’s room, their bathroom. You’d never seen any of it and it all felt incredibly intimate and incredibly wrong in some way. You didn’t want to accidentally see something you shouldn’t. But Charlie just smiles back at you and nods his head gently.

“Of course, Henry.” You follow them up the stairs, smiling at Henry who smiles that shiny little kid smile at you before laying his head back down on Charlie’s shoulder, resting his eyes again.

Henry’s bedroom is exactly like you imagined it would be. Colourful blue walls, vibrant comic book patterned bed sheets, toys absolutely everywhere yet Charlie avoids them like their place on the floor has meaning, like he’s ingrained it into his mind from stepping on them too many times, muscle memory. You stay in the doorway, leaning on the door frame watching them, not wanting to intrude.

Charlie carefully lowers Henry onto his bed, tucking him in the covers and kissing his forehead. He says sweet words to his son, lulling him further to sleep and Henry smiles dopily back at him, whispering a quiet ‘love you, dad.’

Charlie turns around to face you, he flicks his head in the direction of the stairway mouthing the word ‘go’ to you, you nod and head down the stairs, waiting for him in the living room. You decide to settle yourself at the foot of the couch, sitting on your knees, feeling the burn of the carpet again and waiting for your Charlie.

He descends the stairs slowly, achingly slowly. Making you wait for it, making you feel the weight in his steps, his foot pressing into the wood, applying his weight until he shifts down another step before finally, finally, making his way to you.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, you try not to let your mouth hang open as you gaze up at him, this beautiful man. Sometimes, when you look at him, you wonder if whatever god or gods were out there made him like this on purpose. Sent him here looking the way he does to taunt you, to test you. Test your strength, your will to defy him when you know there is no humanly way possible to deny this man of what he wants. And what he wants is you. Why would you say no? How could you?

After observing you on the floor below him, Charlie seats himself down on the couch like before, knees spread, looking down at you. You scoot closer to him, hoping he doesn’t tell you to stop. His hand comes to rest on his knee before he pats it.

“Lay your head down on me.” His voice rumbles in his chest. You think you feel it through the floorboards, through your knees, up your spine and in the pit of your stomach. You listen and scoot closer, resting your head on his bony knee, nuzzling it with your cheek and looking up at him through thick lashes. You continue looking at him as you press a tender kiss as well, just for fun.

The lights are dim in the living room, the time ticking closer to midnight, Henry asleep upstairs. You both had to be quiet, you both knew this. Charlie’s hand comes to brush against your cheekbone, he trails his index finger all along the valleys of your face and then moving into your hair, gripping the back of it into a fist before relaxing again, bringing his hand back to hold your cheek.

“I’ve missed this.” He says so quietly. You nod, biting your lip.

“Me too.” You say, eagerness beginning to fill your voice. You adjust your position, coming to lean further into him, closer to his crotch where you can tell he needs you. Charlie hums contentedly.

“Mhmmm. Tell me what exactly you missed. Who you missed.” You let your hand glide over his knee, over his muscular thigh and towards his crotch, feather light touches along the fabric of his pants. You could feel how hard he was, it seemed painful.

“You. I missed your cock too... Daddy.”

There it was. He found what he was looking for. His hand found its way into a fist again in your hair, tugging it tightly, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed your lips over his covered cock, straining in his pants.

“You can do better than that,” he groaned, voice almost as strained as his cock yet still so forceful, “show Daddy how much you really missed him.”

You whimper at his tone, your voices both so hushed, rasped and desperate, spurring each other on much quicker than usual. Your hands, shaky with desire, reached up for his belt, grasping the cold metal into your hands and unbuckling it as quickly as you could. Only when you got to his zipper, did Charlie stop you with a light tap to your cheek.

“Teeth.” He scolded. You nodded.

You brought the zipper in between your teeth, biting down on the tiny piece of metal and slowly dragging it down over the hill his cock was creating in his pants. The heat radiating from his body was palpable, you could feel it coming onto your face the lower you dragged the zipper and the more he was revealed to you. You could also smell him, that smell that was undeniably Charlie; musky, earthy, a hit of fabric detergent and just the natural smell of his skin, like almonds in the summer. It made you dizzy, drunk off of him already.

You hadn’t even gotten him in your mouth yet.

You nuzzled your face into his clothed crotch, feeling his hard member pressing into your cheek, you could feel it pulsing, you could feel him wanting, waiting for the moment your mouth would take his length as far back as you could. You whimpered at the thought.

“You like it? You like my cock?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Then show me with that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” He sneered, pulling harder on your hair. You hummed and smiled, you felt giddy, maybe you really were drunk. You nuzzled your face into his crotch one more time before bringing both of your hands up to his waist, letting your fingertips dance around his beautiful skin that lay revealed to you above the waistband, you lean up, up, up pressing the softest, delicatest kisses to his skin.

Charlie groaned, pressing on the back of your head, pushing your face further into his tummy. You left more and more kisses before you gave him a tentative bite, not letting your teeth sink in too much before you lave your tongue over the abused flesh.

“Fuck that feels- fucking good.” Charlie moaned, looking down at the new mark that would only darken itself by tomorrow as more blood rushes to the affected area. It was placed beautifully next to his hip bone. You think it looked pretty. So did he.

You finally let your fingertips dip into his waistband but not before latching your teeth onto the stretchy fabric as well, aiding your fingers in removing them. You dragged it down, down, down his skin, just until his cock sprang free and laid heavy on his lower stomach. Charlie hissed, his hips bucking slightly from the sudden freedom.

He has the prettiest cock you think you’d ever seen. You never get used to seeing it, taking it in your mouth or your cunt. The stretch is always so painfully good, you’ve come to crave it. And going without it for the past however many weeks has made you near delirious for it. You stick your tongue out and run it all along the underside right to the very tip, where a shiny, pearly bead of precum has just begun to spill over. You hum as you lick it up, eyes nearly rolling back into your head.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” Charlie grits from behind clenched teeth. You look up at him innocently, you notice that he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw like clockwork, his eyes look glassy and his cheeks are a few shades darker. He already looks so disheveled, so perfect like this.

“I can’t help it… it’s so pretty.”

“You think Daddy has a pretty cock?” You nod your head, humming, which you can’t seem to stop doing tonight, he just has you feeling so content, so safe. You don't think you could be like this with anyone else. You trace your fingers along his length, watching it bob from the slightest of touches, even Charlie tries to bite back his groans.

“Can-can I kiss it?”

“Please.” You lower your head towards his length, pressing your lips so softly onto his red angry head, giving little kitten licks in between kisses which has Charlie gripping your hair like a vice, afraid you’ll float away. You like the way his stomach flexes in response to your touch, like his body is bracing himself for the tidal wave of pleasure that’s bound to hit at any moment.

You finally take the spongy pink head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before letting a few inches fall past your lips as well. Charlie’s tummy flexes even more, the v shaped muscle becoming more and more prominent and you moan onto his cock. His free hand that had been clenched into a fist comes to hold one side of your head and the other comes to meet it. He holds your head in his hands and forces you to take more of him, but not all of it just yet. You start bobbing your head up and down on his length, his hands helping you find his ideal speed.

“Fuck yes, oh my god, j-just like that-” Charlie moans your name, his fingernails digging into your scalp making you moan on his cock again, only making him dig deeper, pressing your head further down his length, forcing you to take him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Gonna let Daddy f-fuck that pretty little whore mouth of yours?” You let your jaw go slack more than it already has and do your best to nod with his cock half way down your throat, tears already beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes. Charlie starts lifting his hips off the couch slightly, all the while moving your head further up and down his cock, forcing it down your throat as far as it’ll go without you making obscenely loud gagging noises.

His son was asleep right upstairs, after all.

You let your eyes roll back into your head, letting Charlie take control and just fuck his cock into your mouth like you know he needs to, like he knows you need it too. It’s been too fucking long. Too fucking long since he’s had you like this. At his disposal, his little plaything to do whatever he pleases with. And you fucking love it.

The cool, sharp metal of his unzipped zipper digs into your jaw and occasionally your neck, biting into your skin and scratching your skin when Charlie lifts his hips up particularly high but you don’t care. In fact, you welcome the pain, embracing it as a mark of Charlie’s rough loving. You hope it draws blood.

“Fuck, your mouth i-is so fucking perfect, so warm... I don’t-” He doesn’t finish his sentence, his eyes screw shut and you can feel his cock growing impossibly harder. He looks down at you, his face twisted in absolute pleasure as he loses himself in your tight little mouth. He pulls you off his cock with all of his strength. A trail of saliva connecting your spit swollen lips to the head of his cock. You start pumping him quickly with your fist.

“No-no wait I don’t…”

“I want it Charlie, please,” Charlie throws his head back, moaning your name, “cum in my mouth... please.”

You nearly whine that last part. Charlie grabs your hair and tugs it, shaking your head a bit.

“I want to fuck you, I don’t wanna cum yet- FUCK!” You hadn’t stopped your hand movements, your fist moving faster over his cock while he fights his release.

“You can fuck me tomorrow.” You say quickly before attaching your lips around the head of his cock, sucking on it until you feel his thighs, abdomen, hands, mind and soul tense up before he bites back his guttural moans, letting them rumble through his chest like thunder passing, before spilling himself onto your tongue. You moan as it lands, letting it slide down your throat as you taste him, taste all of him until he’s completely drained.

You look up at him through heavy lashes, coated thick in tears that have streamed down your cheeks. Chest heaving, abdomen pulled taught, cheeks incredibly flushed, lips swollen, eyes heavy and tired. Completely spent. He looked so beautiful, your Charlie. So beautiful like this.

“S-show me.” His hand reaches for your jaw, pinching your cheeks to force your jaw and mouth open. You stick your tongue to show him. All gone, you swallowed all of his cum, for him.

“Good girl.” He whispered, patting your cheek affectionately. You smiled sweetly at him, coming up with your hands resting your weight on his thighs, pressing your swollen lips to his. As you extend your knees to stand, you feel the ache in the joints, the bruises already present, no doubt. You loved the pain. Your lips glide effortlessly across each other, so tired, so worn out but always wanting.

“Stay, please.” He says against your lips. You shake your head, no. It was a simple answer. A simple predicament.

“Henry.”

You pull back to look into Charlie’s eyes, he pulls you into his lap and he winces as you apply just a bit too much weight onto the base of his cock. You look into his eyes, already so sad at the idea of you leaving. But Henry would ask too many questions in the morning.

Why is the nice lady from next door still here, Dad?

Did she stay the night, Dad?

Did she sleep in your bed, Dad?

You and Mom’s bed, Dad?

“I know, I know.” Charlie says, defeated. He presses you into his chest, hugging you to him tightly, tighter than you were expecting. It was a hopeful thought. He understood why it couldn’t happen, couldn’t work. Maybe he just wanted you to entertain the idea for a minute with him. Maybe it would happen one day.

“I really did miss you.” He whispers into your hair, cradling the back of your head with his large, warm hand, pressing you further into the nook of his neck.

“I did too. I really missed you too, Charlie.”

MARCH - BROOKLYN

Charlie was currently back from his third visit to Los Angeles, hunting burroughs for the perfect new home for himself and for Henry. Maybe for you as well, but Charlie didn’t like to dwell on that for too long, he couldn’t allow himself such hopeful thoughts, he would only be let down.

Would you really want to move in with him? Was that moving too quickly? Would you think he was insane? Crazy? Obsessed? The truth was, he is all of those things; insane, crazy, obsessed with you. He couldn’t help it, no. Not when it came to you.

He would always be desperate for your affection, your attention.

Things were escalating with the divroce. Nicole and Charlie had turned bitter, viscous, backstabbing, conniving. Both fighting for a child who has no intention of hurting anyone, certainly not his mother or father.

Henry had no idea what weight his actions or words held, no idea what it meant when someone came over to observe him and his dad, or him and his mom. When they sent someone out to New York to watch him there, sometimes you would be over too. They asked you so many questions, he didn’t understand why. Why were strangers suddenly so involved in every little thing his parents did? Were they in trouble? Were they bad people? Was he a bad kid? Did they hate him?

Henry pouts as you hold his hand, walking up the driveway to the new apartment Charlie was almost one hundred percent decided on renting. It was in more of a family oriented neighbourhood, still close to his school. Somehow, it had a decent sized backyard (which you had never heard of in New York, even Brooklyn), three bedrooms, an office, a beautiful kitchen, it was basically perfect in Charlie’s eyes.

The first time he visited it back in February, he sent you dozens of pictures and little videos when he had gone alone. He quickly booked another appointment for you to go and look at him with it so he could get your opinion. He made it very clear how important your opinion was to him on this matter, he was always asking you questions about the apartment, even bringing it up randomly. He would scroll through the pictures he had taken, scrutinizing every detail and ask you about it.

Do you think the backyard is big enough?

What if I end up getting Henry a dog? Would there be enough space for that?

Do you really like the kitchen? Be honest.

What about the office room? Do I really need that? Is that too much?

What about the guest bedroom?

You wonder if he was so invested in your opinion because he trusted you, or because he wanted you to move in with them. Neither of you had ever spoken about it before, never had that conversation. And even if you did, Henry would always have the final say. If he didn’t want you living with them, well, that was that. You couldn’t argue with Henry, not when his childhood and upbringing was in question. Especially after this divorce. Charlie would do anything for him. Even if it meant risking you.

Charlie ended up getting the house he had been eyeing for nearly a month.

Him and Henry would restart here, no painful memories embedded in the walls, in the flooring, in the holes in the walls, the slammed door frames, the windows that threatened to shatter from all the screaming and crying. None of that was here, it would never be here. None of that would happen again.

Charlie hadn’t asked you to move in.

And you hadn’t necessarily been waiting on him asking either.

You were already coming over pretty frequently. And not just on account of Charlie, Henry still loved seeing you and hanging out with you. You still babysat him when things at the theatre ran late.

When Nicole moved to LA, Charlie was thrown full force into his work. Forced to recast, rework, and rewrite so many things that she had just left hanging. You watched Henry those nights, stayed until Charlie got home and then took the subway back to your place, next to their now vacant apartment.

You were so lonely those nights you couldn’t sleepover at Charlie’s. You missed his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how much comfort you got knowing he was just next door, just beyond a thick wall. You could have touched it and felt his presence radiating through. But now, nothing. It was cold, dark, empty, meaningless.

And because Charlie had been so overworked for the past few months, the stress was starting to get to him. The constant obstacles and backtracking in the theatre production. The random calls from Nicole, his lawyer, the random flights down to LA, the weeks Henry spent away from him, the nights he lost himself in you, using you as an outlet. You let him, you liked it when he took it out on you, you liked how rough he would get, all that pent up anger being pounded out into your hot cunt. You loved it. Loved when he got mad, frustrated. You were always there for him. You would always be there for him, you hoped he knew that.

But what you didn’t love, was when he started neglecting you.

He would go days sometimes without calling you, so much as even texting you. You would get no word from him for a couple of days and sometimes you would just randomly piece together that he was in LA and he just forgot to tell you. You tried to not let it upset you, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through, the stress of the divorce, the potential of losing Henry, his whole life hanging by a thread. It really wasn’t his fault that he just forgot to mention it to you.

Sometimes he would lash out at you, a small comment or action rubbing him the wrong way and he would erupt, say something he didn’t mean or just walk out on you. Times when things go heated, you tried your best to keep you composure for his sake. He didn’t need you being upset at him too on top of everything else, so you kept it in, for Charlie.

Sometimes he would lash out before you two went out with his theatre friends. He would smile and hug everyone, but kept somewhat of a distance from you. Barely speaking to you, barely including you in the conversation unless someone else asked you a question or directly addressed you. What did you look like to them? Friends? Friends with benefits? Did you look like his whore? The babysitter that he was secretly fucking?

You kind of were.

You drank a lot that night. He fucked you when you got back to his new place. He fell asleep quickly after. You pulled on your long sleeve shirt and nice dress pants that you had been wearing that night after laying next to his warm, sleeping body for thirty minutes, debating, thinking, worrying, dying inside.

You stood up and walked to the door, you looked back to find him watching you. You nervously tugged at your sleeves, staring back at him until he turned around, pushing his face into the pillow, as if silently willing you to leave. You left. You called a taxi and left. You didn’t sleep that night.

You think it was because he told you he was going to Los Angeles again.

Maybe he mentioned Nicole? His lawyer? Something about Henry? The theatre?

You couldn’t remember what started all of this yelling, smashing. You were over at the new place, helping Charlie organize some things for Henry before he came back with him the next time he went out to LA again, which was in a few days.

Charlie was pissed and this time, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold your calm resolve for him.

“Charlie if you just need some space from me tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings, I understand.” You decide to try and change the subject, maybe just cutting to the chase. Offering him what you think he wants, alone time. Time away from you, from everything. There’s no way he doesn’t need a break.

You hated how quickly you would give everything up for him. You would do anything for him, anything he asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, eyes squinting in confusion. You sigh, running a hand down your face, your patience was running thin and you didn’t want to accidentally set him off.

“Everytime you see me you manage to get frustrated or mad about something. I just don’t want to give you more problems than you already have. I know you’ve been really stressed.”

“Elaborate, please.” His voice was clipped as he put his hands on his hips, stopping what he was doing and turning to you, seemingly giving you more attention than he had in weeks. You huff, not sure how to explain this to him.

“Charlie I-”

“No, what the fuck are you trying to say? That if I fucking ended things you would just leave? No questions asked?” His voice boomed, echoing off the newly painted walls, shaking the frames of yours and Henry’s dinosaur paintings from all those months ago.

He takes a step closer to you, you take one back, then another just for good measure. Your back hits the wall and you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you can with him staring at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. They still managed to twinkle even when he was angry.

“I- I would… for Henry. You put Henry first, I put Henry first. If he wanted me gone-”

“He doesn’t fucking want you gone, you know that.” Charlie scoffed, walking closer to you, his face red in frustration, maybe anger. He says your name, it's never sounded so sad.

“Why are you lying to me?” He’s a step away from you now, chest heaving with laboured breaths. He’s trying to compose himself, you can tell. Trying to stay calm but his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m not, I w-wouldn’t lie to you, Charlie.”

“You would leave me?” You nod your head, lip trembling, tears burning, stinging in your eyes, your breathing becoming heavy too. Was this it?

“If that’s what you wanted, if you want me to leave I would.”

“Why? Why would you do something so fucking stupid?” His lip is also trembling, you feel like he’s about to spit in your face, yell at you for being such an idiotic little girl. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, this was so fucked. You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like when he got frustrated, you resented the fact that you did.

You couldn’t think straight, the words leaving your mouth didn’t feel your own, like you were speaking some other language, possessed by a foreign being.

“Be-because…” Bile rising in your throat, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Fucking why? Tell me why!” He was yelling, his face in yours and his voice breaking.

“Because I… because I love-”

And then Charlie was kissing you.

Charlie was kissing you.

His tongue swiped into your mouth like he was trying to strangle you with it. His hands came to your cheeks and pressed your body flush against his and the wall, sandwiched between the two. He was hard, you could feel his cock pressing into your stomach as he rolled his hips into you, you moaned into his mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away.

“Don’t say it… don’t- fucking say it.” He said against your lips, voice so hush, so quiet and scared.

“Why? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not fucking afraid of you.” He says, confused, angry, lips rough on your own. He keeps trying to kiss you, you don’t want to push him away but you try, you push on his tough chest, his heart beating wildly in its cage.

“Yes you are. You keep pushing me away.” You cry, hiccupping on a ragged sob that leaves your chest, as you ironically try to push him away from you. Charlie tries to kiss you through it, trying to suffocate you.

“I’m not.” He fights.

“You are.”

“I’m not-” You push, harder this time. He stumbles back, lips already swollen, his eyes are wet, glossy too. Like yours.

“You are!” You yell, voice breaking, choking on your tears. “Don’t act like you haven’t been treating me differently for the past month.”

When Charlie says nothing, you continue.

“You don’t call me, you don’t text me, I only come over to babysit Henry when he’s here and when he’s in LA you just fuck me and then get mad about something and leave. When we go out you don’t look at me, you don’t touch me-” Your voice falters, you’re not sure you can go on with the way the sobs wrack through your chest and into the rest of your body. You feel weak, like you might collapse into the ground. You wish you would, you wish the floor would just swallow you up and you could disappear.

Charlie sees red. His fists shake, clenched into fists at his side after you’ve pushed him away. His palms burn to touch you. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he should listen to what you’re saying, let you talk, remind him how much he’s been hurting you. He knows what he’s doing, he’s not stupid.

He wasn’t trying to push you away, he definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose. But he was sabotaging himself, sabotaging everything because he felt he didn’t deserve you. He was a bad father, a selfish person for wanting to take Henry away from his mother, for wanting Henry to himself, a bad person for hating Nicole, a woman he once loved.

Love.

It was all because of love wasn’t it? Charlie wants to laugh at the thought. Wants to laugh and scream and yell and hit something at the thought of stupid fucking love. Was he really becoming that nihilistic already?

Would he come to hate you like how he hates Nicole? Would you come to hate him the way he hates himself? The way Henry probably hates him? The way his parents hated him-

His knees hit a hard surface, blistering, blinding pain shooting up his legs. He’s collapsed onto the floor before he’s even aware of it. Unaware of the sobs that push and pull at his lungs, forcing his chest to heave in the oxygen before choking it back out along with spit and tears.

He’s crying. You’re crying. Fuck, how did it come to this. This was all too familiar. He feels numb.

How could he love you when love was the scariest thing? When love was the most frightening emotion he had ever experienced. Everything that’s happened to him for the past two fucking years was because of love. Love would ruin everything. It always did. But he couldn’t…. he couldn’t lose-

“Y-you… you can’t- leave me.” He chokes, hands planted shakily on the floor, holding his upper body up, his arms weak.

You… you’ve never seen Charlie like this. And honestly? It scares you. Sure, you’ve heard him yell, scream, cry at Nicole, his lawyer over the phone. But this was different. This was visceral, burning desire, regret, shame, embarrassment… this was everything coming crashing down around him at once.

Fuck.

This is what you’ve been trying to avoid over the past month. That’s why you’ve tiptoed around him, letting him get angry, letting him yell, letting him ignore you, use you, fuck you and ask for nothing in return. You were avoiding this.

But maybe you had just prolonged the explosion? Let enough gas build up before it eventually burst into flames.

Eventually…

You had definitely made this worse, by ignoring it you’ve let it fester, let it rise and rise and rise, just pushing down the lid for your own sake. Maybe it was both of your own faults? You don’t know, you don’t care. This was bound to happen at some point. And it just so happened to be today. All you really care about is Charlie.

You kneel down on the floor in front of him, resting your palm on the floor like he has, letting your pinky finger graze against his. The slightest of touch as to not scare him off. He flinches, his head still hung low, eyes screwed shut.

You place your hand on top of his, feeling his burning skin, testing the waters. He doesn’t pull back so you continue your efforts. You intertwine your fingers with his, slowly, slowly lifting his hand up off the ground and closer to you. He still doesn’t look up. You keep moving his hand until it’s on your chest, covering your left breast. Only then does he look up, searching your eyes.

He feels it then. That same thing he felt the first time… the first time he had you. Your beating heart, pumping wildly in your chest just like his was. Did you know? Did you know what you did to him? Did you know how much he needed you, how much he thinks of you? Did you know that he… that he-

“I won’t.” You say, cutting him off mid thought. His hand clutches onto you through the fabric of your shirt, trying to reach through you and grab your heart into his hands. He wants to pull it from you, keep it for himself and lock it away, make sure you never fucking leave him. He was so selfish.

“I won’t leave you Charlie.” You say again when he says nothing, just watching his hand twist into the fabric of your shirt, tugging it strangely until he’s rid you of it. He places his hand back on your chest, feeling your heart better now through the barrier of only your flesh.

“I…. I’m sorry.” “You said you wouldn’t lie to me?” It feels like the first thing he’s said in hours, his voice rough around the edges, gooey in the middle. His post-yelling voice, you knew it too well.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Then why… why would you even say that? That you would leave me?”

“Because if that’s what you wanted, what you needed… I would do it. I would do anything you wanted, anything for you, Charlie.”

“Why?” He couldn’t understand. There was no fathamobale reason as to why he would deserve such devotion. Especially from you.

You’re quiet, unsure of how to answer him. This was the same back and forth you both had before he exploded, when you almost told him you… that you lo-

“I-I don’t know how to answer… you told me not to say it.” You whimper, tears spilling from your eyes again. His hand comes to hold your cheek, thumb swiping away the tear. You nuzzle into his hand, kissing his palm. You stay there for a moment, resting your face in his palm, feeling his warmth radiating from his hands, letting a silence wash over the two of you. It was sort of peaceful. A chaotic peace.

“Charlie, I-”

“Don’t... don’t say it.” You cry some more, tears spilling. His hand moves to your throat, squeezing gently, you find it oddly comforting.

“But I want to, I want to say it, please.” You grab the wrist of the hand holding your throat, squeezing his flesh, asking.

“No.”

“Charlie-”

“I said no.” He grabs your jaw, shaking you from side to side a little. You whimper, eyes screwing shut, pushing more tears past the precipice. He pulls you into his lap, you’re putty in his hands, letting him move you however he needs to move you. He holds you in his arms, your legs wrap around his waist and his legs bring him to stand up somehow, his strength always shocking you.

“You can’t say it... you can’t leave.” He continues, you sniffle, hiding your face in his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he carries you somewhere through the apartment, up some stairs…

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m- sorry.” You hiccup and cry into his neck, wetting the skin. You press your lips over the newly wet skin, feeling his heartbeat flutter underneath, teeth grazing the thin flesh.

Suddenly he’s lowering you down, down, down until you come in contact with a soft surface, his mattress. Charlie crawls on top of you, you let him rest between your thighs, keeping your legs up high on his waist.

“Don’t ever fucking leave me.” You shake your head from side to side in agreement with him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand trails down the length of your body roughly, burning your flesh in its unforgiving path. You’re left only in your jeans since he removed your shirt when you were still downstairs.

“I won’t, I-I didn’t mean-” You can barely form a proper sentence, choking on your own tears and sadness that wrack through your mind and body. Charlie’s hand in already palming your sex through the thick denim you wear, you whimper, trying to squeeze your thighs together but his body blocks them.

“Stop talking.” He barely gets out the words before he’s pressing his lips to yours again, letting his lips glide against your wobbly and swollen ones. You breathe each other in, letting your tongues dance across one anothers as you gasp and cry into his mouth. It’s all teeth and all tongue, it’s messy, clumsy, desperate, burning. You don’t care, he doesn’t either when your teeth clack against each other, nibbling on lips, biting sometimes.

Charlie flips you over underneath him so that you face the sheets, sliding down your body and roughly tugging down your jeans along with your underwear in one swift motion. You gasp as your wet cunt comes in contact with the cool air of the darkening day. Charlie stands on his knees behind you, pulling your ass up higher, higher, higher until he’s satisfied. His cheeks are warm, his ears pink at the peaks. Before either of you even have time to think, his hand comes down harshly onto your right ass cheek, you cry out, gripping the sheets by your head.

“Ch-Charlie!” You gasp, earning you another smack to your other cheek. You push your head down into the covers, trying to muffle your cries and moans as he keeps going.

His smacks you again, and again, and again and again until you’re a sobbing mess in the sheets. Words, languages lost to you in your muddled brain. A pool of spit near your mouth soaked into the white fabric, only a wet spot remaining to show for evidence of your euphoria. You can feel the imprint of his hand on your ass, you know it's burning red, you know the skin is raised and puffy. You fucking love it.

Charlie’s chest is heaving, breaths labored as he takes it all out on you like he knows you need it, knows you love it. He does too; love it and need it. The way your ass gets so much brighter, how big the imprint he’s left on you is. How fucking perfect you are for him... He’s pulling off his shirt before he knows it, shedding his pants too until he’s in nothing but his underwear. You’ve stayed exactly where you are, not daring to move a muscle since he hasn’t instructed you otherwise.

“So now you listen.” Charlie mutters to himself, it's barely audible to you since the blood is coursing so loudly through your veins, through your ears. You’re buzzing.

Charlie pushes you back down on the mattress so you lay completely flat. He pulls your jeans and underwear down the rest of your legs until you lay there bare before him. He inhales sharply at the sight of you. He could see the way you glisten for him, he could feel it on his hand when he had spanked you, your arousal having begun to trail down the tops of your thighs, he moaned at the sight.

His hand comes flying down, this time spanking you roughly on your pussy causing you to lurch forward into the sheets, crying out his name pathetically again. He leans over you, keeping his hand clutched tightly around your cunt, feeling your juices seep between his fingers, you moan and try to press back into his hand but he just slaps it again, your eyes screwing shut. He’s nearly got his entire weight on top of you, his hot breath fanning across your cheek as he comes close to your face.

“You’re so fucking wet for me… you want it that badly?” You nod your head vigorously.

“Yes! Yes, Charlie I want you, I-I need you so badly, please.”

“Hmmm, what do you need?”

“Anything, y-your fingers…”

“Where”

“... in me, in me please.” You’re completely desperate, your crying and sobbing from earlier making you especially weak to his ways, his voice, his body. God, he could do anything to you, and you would let him, you would beg him, you would thank him.

Slowly, Charlie sinks one thick finger into your soaking cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pumps it slowly, in and out, in and out of you. You try and push your hips back to meet the small thrust of his finger but he keeps you pinned down.

Charlie could feel you clenching around his single digit and he groaned next to your ear, nibbling on the soft lobe as he continued his ministrations. You whined, withered underneath the weight of his body, his hot chest pressing into your back, pressing you into the mattress.

“Charlie, please I-”

“What? You need more? You need more from me?”

“Please.” Charlie draws his index finger out of you before joining it with his middle one, probing your entrance teasingly, swirling his fingers around it but never going in.

“Fuck-”

“Do you think you deserve it?” He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you, your pussy, none of it. He was only projecting his worthlessness onto you. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t.

“N-no.” You say, tears welling in your eyes from a multitude of things. Overstimulation being one of them. You tried to get your hips to stop pressing into his hand but it was so hard when the temptation was right there.

“No… you don’t.” He kisses the tears that slip from your eye, pressing a finger to your mouth and you gladly take it in, laving your tongue around his salty, rough skin. His two fingers at your entrance finally push in deeper, causing you to cry out around his finger that was in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips.

Then he starts pumping, quickly, and you can’t stop the way your hips push into his hand, trying to meet him halfway through his thrusts, needing more so badly. You moan around his fingers, he echoes your moans back into your ear. You can feel his cock filling out, getting harder and harder against the back of your legs where it still lays confined in his underwear.

All too quickly he pulls his fingers from you and spanks your pussy again, you choke on a cry around the finger that’s still in your mouth. You’re already wrecked, and he’s nowhere near done with you.

“You only get to cum on my cock, understand?” You nod your head with vigour, eyes trying to meet his from where he’s positioned, behind you yet over top of you. You can feel him moving around, pulling his fingers from your mouth and his underwear off as best as he can without moving too far away from you.

“I understand, Charlie.” You cry, the tears unrelenting at this point, beyond your control.

Fuck, what weas he doing? Why was he doing this now?

What other way did he really have though, to show you what you mean to him? Definitely not words, no. No matter how much he writes for the theatre, words could never come close to describing what he feels for you, what he needs from you, wants from you, what he wants to give to you, tell you, provide you. None of it, no language would do.

Nothing would come closer to his body on you, in you, moving in tandem with you, hearts so close together that he loses sense of himself and just feels you wrapped so tightly around him in every sense. That’s the only way he could show you, the only way he could tell you.

He grabs his cock in his hand, pumping himself slowly and rests his head on your shoulder, groaning into your skin at the sensation. “Beg.” He spits, his lips moving against your flesh. He rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds and you yelp, pressing your hips back but he anticipated it, drawing his hips back, away from you.

“Charlie, please I-I need you so badly, I’ve never wanted… anything else but you, I just- please, I need you so bad, I-I, l...love-”

“I told you not to fucking say it.” He grits from behind clenched teeth, slapping your ass harshly and you let a sob leave your lips. The burn was so good.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it-” You whine, fists bunching up the sheets with a grip so deadly your skin is turning white. He lets his head drop to your shoulder again, his own eyes screwing shut, trying to will his own tears away as he continues to run his cock along your pleading entrance, collecting whatever arousal has seeped out of you.

“Fuuuck, perfect little pussy... so desperate for my cock, isn’t it?” He mutters, almost to himself as he watches the way his cock moves between your glistening folds. Unashamed, you keep crying, moaning at the feeling of his big cock so close to where you need him most, nodding your head.

“Please, Charlie I need you inside m- fuck, just put it in, please-”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him press in with the tip, letting the spongy head break through your folds and slightly dip into your entrance. Your fists clench and unclench against the sheets. With a sharp ‘fuck’ Charlie presses the rest of his long, thick cock into you, both of you moaning and breathing in one another.

He lets his cock sit in you, coming to interlock his fingers with yours, pinning your hands above your head, elongating both of your bodies but mostly yours, from how much longer his body is. Only then does he start snapping his hips into yours, letting his thrusts punch out your moans and cries from your chest.

At this angle, he’s hitting places inside of you so deep you never thought you could fathom, filling you up to the brim, you swear you can feel him in your stomach, punching your guts into your throat with every violent thrust.

You moan his name without relent, it’s the only thing you could possibly ever know. Charliecharliecharliecharliecharlie to infinity. You never wanted to know anything else, no other thought suddenly as interesting as him. He was the only thing that mattered. The way his cock filled you was dizzying, mind-numbing, and bone-shattering.

“You always need me so badly, you could never leave me, never leave this cock. Desperate little slut.” Charlie groans, head resting on your back as his powerful thrusts push you up the bed. He latches a hand around one of your hips, trying to keep you pinned down.

“You would never fucking leave me, you’d never fucking do it.” He continues, maybe to himself. You can feel him nuzzling his face into the skin on your shoulder, kissing and biting the skin, leaving a mark in his wake like he always does.

“I won’t, Charlie- I won’t, I promise.” You hiccup, his thrusts unrelenting in their assault. You could feel your release building, that bright white feeling rising inside of you. The only sounds in the room were your breathy moans, Charlie’s growls and the loud slap of skin on skin, his hips colliding with your ass every time.

“Dont ever say that s-shit again- dont ever fucking leave me. Don’t - ever. Fucking. Leave.” He growled, biting your shoulder and punctuating his words with harsher thrusts, fucking into you.

“I’m s-sorry Charlie-” You’re cut off by a sensation on your back. Hot, wet, slippery. Charlie sniffles.

He’s crying, burning holes into your flesh as they land on your back. Your own eyes well up all over again. The pleasure of his cock deep, deep, deep inside you and the emotions flowing through both of you was overwhelming, overstimulating, your mind was going blank, you felt like you would black out.

You hear it then, his quiet cries, the way his chest shakes as he finally lets it go, lets it out. And then he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grabbing one of your ankles and one side of your hip, flipping you over quickly, hiking your legs back up around his waist and continuing his punishing, relentless pace. You moan embarrassingly loudly as you watch the way his stomach flexes into you, the way his chest tightens and constricts, the flush that spreads from in between his marvelous pecs to his cheeks, his dark wet eyes, the red that fills them, the way his eyelashes clump together, making them look longer, darker, the dark halo of hair that frames his face. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was beyond you at this point, you couldn’t stop what was already put into motion.

“Oh, Charlie…” You cry, chest arching into his, your nails scraping his biceps. He moans at the pain, dropping his forehead to yours. You’ve never heard him moan like this, never seen him cry like this, never seen him so lost and completely gone in you.

Even if it was a mistake.

Even if you would regret it tomorrow.

Or five minutes from now.

Or immediately afterwards.

It was the truth, your truth. His truth. It was the only thing you could ever possibly know.

“I love you.” You cry, burning tears streaming down your cheeks. Charlie’s eyes meet yours, lost, delirious, shocked.

“You… y-you can’t.” He doesn’t tell you to stop this time. Doesn’t tell you to shut up, doesn’t tell you how dumb and pathetic it is to love him. You love him.

“I do, Charlie I-I do. Fuck, I love you so fucking much.” You whine, nails biting the skin on his back. His hips never stop, he’s fucking common sense and all things rational out of your mind. All you know is him. All you ever want to know is him, Charlie.

His chin wobbles, moans escape past his lips as he refuses to stop fucking you, his cock so fucking hard it hurts him, almost more than this. Almost more than the chant that has started to leave your lips, the floodgates have been opened and you can’t stop your confession now.

“I love you, I love you- shit, Charlie I love you, I love you so much, I love your fucking cock, fuck!” You couldn't stop, you felt like you could never stop at this point. You never wanted to stop saying it, never wanted to stop telling him. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“You’re… you’re not real… you’re- fuck, too fucking good for m-me.” Charlie gasps, his hips speeding up, his cock growing harder somehow. You feel him pulse inside of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth hanging agape, no sound being emitted from you. Charlie moves his lips down to your exposed throat, kissing and sucking on the delicate skin before wrapping a firm hand around it, not squeezing too tight.

“Yours.” You manage to choke out, gripping onto his wrist that's at your throat with all the strength you had with your body gone pleasure weak. Charlie moans your name, it makes you cry more.

“I’m yours, Charlie.” You manage to say more clearly, using all your willpower to look him in the eyes. His eyes are blown black, the dark circles underneath them so, so pigmented. You could feel the crescendo building, he was about to break. His lips were glossy, spit slicked and roughly bitten.

“You’re mine.” He confirms, more to himself than to you. He just… he felt like he could never be sure enough. Like he would never believe that you were his. That you were in love with him.

You nod your head, hands interlocking behind his head, gripping tightly into his hair.

“I’m yours, yours.” You keen, hips rolling into his as you both neared your release. His hand around your throat keeps you pinned in place as his fucks you into the mattress, moaning, groaning, crying your name. The slight added pressure makes you see stars, your pussy flutters around his cock and your back arches, pressing your chest into his but Charlie keeps you exactly where you are, your body convulsing as you cum, cum, cum around his cock, screaming his name.

“M’gonna cum, gonna f-fucking cum s-so deep inside, fill you up-”

“Please, Charlie.” You whine, dumb from the high that he continues to fuck you through, tears stained on the skin of your cheeks. You tug on his hair roughly, meeting his thrusts with a roll of your hips and that sends Charlie over the edge.

“Fhuuuck-” He lifts his head slightly, to look at you better as he splits you open one final time, his cock stilling in the deepest parts of you before he cums so fucking deep inside your pussy with the most guttural moan.

He fucks his cum back in to you until it’s seeping back out onto his cock. He groans so loudly you feel it in your bones. His hands wrap around your upper body, holding you tightly as he spins to lay on the mattress, holding your body to his chest, his cock still nestled deep inside of you.

Charlie gives you a small thrust, pushing and mixing his cum with yours one final time. You gasp and cling to him, your nails digging slightly into his muscular pec at the sensation, the delicious burn. You feel so incredibly full, so full of your Charlie. You love him.

“I lo-”

“I love you.”

Your heart must have stopped beating, your lungs, forgotten their functionality, your brain short circuited, your limbs incapacitated.

You looked up at him with those big, shiny wet eyes. You looked like a fawn, lost on the side of the road who just found someone who could help them. Someone kind, someone gentle, honest, safe, warm. Someone worth loving. He was worth loving. Charlie was worth loving.

But you already knew that.

He said it again, so low in the dark room, the dark night, eclipsed with spilled feelings and sweat, tears too. So many fucking tears. His voice so low it almost didn’t register, the deep vibrato rumbling your insides and warming you up all over again.

He said it with you curled up on his chest, he said it again when you moved up his body to press your face into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips to his bruised skin, he said it as tears spilled from your eyes. He would say it as you fell asleep on him in the deadly hours of the night and again in the morning when you woke. He would remind you constantly, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it in. Not anymore.

He would tell you he loves you a million and one times from then on, until you didn’t want to hear it from him anymore.

tag list! @morby @shesakillerkween @gamingaquarius

#charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #reader insert #charlie barber x you #charlie barber imagine #charlie barber smut #long sleeves #part 2 #tw: daddy kink #cw: daddy kink #my writing

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

Text

Choke

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 10: Heady ]

[ Content Notes: Mostly none? destroyed property, theft, absolute terrifying anger ]

youtube

When he stepped through the door, the entirety of his home was in disarray - a nasty state, really. Furniture was overturned, his fish tank broken on the floor (and his poor fish long gone with it - this was the last time he was ever going to keep a pet after that), dishes shattered on the ground. He let out a huff from his nose - anger, annoyance; whatever. It was fine, he was fine, he’d clean it up later. He trudged upstairs to take a look at his office, also finding it a wreck. Papers scattered everywhere, ink stains over his desk and floor (and most recent research piece), but above it all, the rows and shelves of books were either tipped over or torn apart - he could feel the heat rising in his ears. He stormed back downstairs, then into the basement. He was thankful to see that it was mostly intact, but a few pieces of paper were missing and the statue in the corner guarding it all was missing. He heard the front door open.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to have guests that helped themselves inside. They were welcome if he allowed it, and he allowed a total of five to make themselves at home within his house on the one condition that they did not go into the basement. He came back up the steps, heels clacking on them to let the “guest” know that he was home; and slammed the door shut behind him - only to realize that this guest was the only one he could stand to be around. “Shango. I apologize you have to see the house in this state.” “Gods, this is worse than-- sorry. I didn’t feel right, I have to come clean on it. I..” He paused, inhaling sharply. Maximiloix had an idea of what he was going to say, but he merely folded his arms and regarded him with a neutral expression. Shango knew that was just how his face was, and by now, he certainly wasn’t intimidated by the man who was able to laugh freely around him - but the idea of betraying his friend’s trust wasn’t something he wanted on his conscience. “...I went down into the basement.”

Maximiloix closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. “Thank you for telling me.” How could he be mad at his only confidant? “I appreciate you coming to me about it - I hope nothing there was too… disturbing.” “I’m sure I could think of a few things more disturbing about you than a corpse in your basement.” Maximiloix snorted. “Well, then. I will forgive your presence there - and since you have seen it already, feel free to return to it when you wish to. If there was anything that piqued your interest - just, ah. I would prefer you to keep away from the documents in front of the fireplace and by the wall.” After seeing his friend smile again, knowing that he wasn’t going to have his hide skinned, he finally asked the next question. “Who else was with you?” “I feel like you could take several guesses and be right on all of them.” “Mm. I had a feeling. Do you know where they are now?” “Down at the beach.” “Thank you. I will be back shortly.”

The trek to the beach wasn’t long, but hells if it wasn’t difficult to walk in sand with heels on - and he was thankful he wasn’t wearing robes today - though the fires of his magic and rage scorched the sand enough to melt it down, making it almost solid enough to keep a steady footing. “Corvus!” His voice was booming with anger, and it took everything in him not to fling the man right back to Othard from whence he came. It startled both him and his girlfriend, who happened to be sitting next to him - as well as several others in the area. After Corvus found out the source of the voice, he only smiled brightly and lifted his hand. “Hey Max! Today’s a nice day, you should--” He was interrupted by Maximiloix grabbing him by the shirt collar and hoisting him up to meet him at eye-level. “What purpose did you have in destroying my home!” “What? Why are you blaming me! I didn’t go into your damned house! Let alone destroy it.” “Do not think me stupid, boy - the only people who are physically able to walk into my home are the ones I allow to, and you are the only one I know that would put that much effort into seeing my life a wreck.”

“Wait, wait, Max--” His girlfriend tried to interject, only causing his eyes and glare to snap at her. “Stay. Out. Of. This! You are not to protect a man not worth saving.” Now his hand was catching ablaze, setting fire to Corvus’s shirt - his teeth ground against each other when his attention went back to the man. “Why.” The word was venom, waiting for the most opportune time to strike him with it. “Because you’d know if someone was in your basement!” “Burglars do not leave evidence of their coming, aside missing items - and so you destroy my home and all of my work so you could poorly cover your tracks instead of coming clean?” Crystal got in the middle again, trying to pry her boyfriend from Maximiloix’s grip. “We’re sorry.. we didn’t know how you’d act if-” “Where are the letters.” “Uhm.” “Where are my damned letters! I welcome you roaches into my home, give you one, one! Rule - and you cannot even follow that. And upon breaking said rule, you steal my belongings and tear up a home you do not own! I hope you have money, because many of those books were worth more than your lives. I do not care what you are doing now, you are going to come with me and clean up the place.” His teeth didn’t move when he addressed them further. “And return what you have stolen from me. Now. Get back to the house.” “What are you going to do if--” Maximiloix’s hair stood on end, visibly, even, and the guttural noise that crawled into his throat threatened them with a fate worse than death - his voice deepened far further than it should of, as if something else were speaking *through* him instead.

“N̷̙͎̉̔̓̉o̸͠͠��̨̗́̅̿͆̓̔͊͂̈́̓̎͠ẅ̶͈͚͔̼͎̮̠̼̱͙̂̌́̌͂̉̒̓͗͘͘͘”

Crystal helped Corvus up, quickly walking away and towards Maximiloix’s home to get started on cleaning. He let out a heavy sigh, waved dismissively at the people staring at him, and got himself back home. He was thankful that Shango had already left, so that he did not have to see him in the enraged state he was in - or maybe he heard him yelling from here and decided it was best to leave. He stood there like a statue, watching both of them, every one of their moves. It took them hours to see it cleaned up, with everything that was damaged set aside for appraisal. He stepped away from the door and over to the table of damaged goods, keeping his back turned to the two. While Crystal didn’t move just yet, she watched as Corvus tried to leave first - thinking his job was done. He opened the door, and immediately, it slammed shut - almost crushing his fingers in the process.

Maximiloix was turned towards him now, hand extended; all he did was close his fist and yank his arm inwards, pulling Corvus to the ground and to him with an invisible rope. “Did I say you could leave.” “Fuck you, man! We did the damn cleaning!” “You are the one who destroyed my home, you are the one cleaning it up. Now I will ask you again, did I say you could leave.” Corvus grumbled something intelligible, Maximiloix turning his back to him once more to count up the damages. Once he was done, he turned to face them, then looked at both of them. “You were saving up for a home, yes?” “Ah… yeah, something this size.” The expression on Crystal’s face already wasn’t liking where this was going. “Well, save up for one of a larger size - because that is how much you owe me.” “What?! You’re just making that up to extort money out of us!” “Would you like me to get a professional appraiser? Because I certainly can, and they will tell you the same thing.” He smiled at them. If it was a smile larger than the vague notion of a smile, that wasn’t good news. “But, you should be thankful Shango came to me first - that however brief or serious our conversations may be, they put me in a good mood. The only mercy I am affording you is that I will only charge you for half of the damages.” “Th-..This is a good mood?” “Would you rather me tear out your organs and feed your souls to the void? Because I can. And I gladly will, if given the chance to.” “Right…” Crystal let out a heavy sigh, getting Corvus to his feet by picking him up by the back of his collar. “Let’s go home and figure this out.” “Tomorrow - that is when you will come back here. If I do not find you here before the sun begins to set, I will hunt you down myself.”

#ffxivwrite2021 #prompt 10 #heady #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #the cold truth #history will be written #i think i have the order of events right #this is based off an old rp #so some liberties were taken lmao

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ashbrea381writings · 3 years

Text

Red-Eye to Destiny: Chapter 3, Meeting the Family

Damian frowned nervously as he drove to pick up Marinette and Luka. There had been so many questions from his siblings when he’d told them he would be picking up two dinner guests.

“Wait, Demon Spawn has friends and he actually WANTS them to come to dinner?” Todd had laughed. “Alfred, I changed my mind, I’m staying for dinner after all!” He called as he walked back to the den for a drink. “I’ve gotta see this!”

“Jason, behave.” Bruce sighed, looking towards the ceiling in frustration. “Damian, are you sure you don’t want to wait until it’s a little quieter around here? We don’t want them to be uncomfortable.”

“I do not believe that will be necessary, Father, they can more than handle it.” Damian had reassured Bruce, but as he drove away, the worry started. They were civilians, and his family wasn’t always good at hiding that they definitely WEREN’T civilians.

Arriving at the address they’d given him, Damian got out of the car to knock. “Dami!” Marinette exclaimed excitedly, opening the door before he’d gotten further than the porch steps. “Come in a minute, we’re almost ready.”

“Hello Marinette.” Damian had gone stiff with nerves and his mind was reeling.

“Damian? Are you alright?” Luka asked from where he was lacing his boots up. “I can feel how tense you are from here.”

“I would like to give you a small warning about my family.” Damian forced himself to say. “All of them are going to be there and they are an odd bunch. I don’t want you to be alarmed if they say something strange.”

“Damian, we’re from Paris, we can handle strange.” Marinette laughed, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing gently. “I can promise that there is nothing, short of them being cannibals or something, that would scare us off. Even if they did, we’d just take you with us.”

“You keep saying that… That you have seen strange things because you are from Paris, but what do you mean by that?” Damian asked, using the question to ground himself in the present.

“You didn’t hear? I thought the Mayor made a public announcement after everything was over?” Marinette frowned before shrugging. “We had our own supervillain for… What, four years?”

“Nearly five before they finally caught him.” Luka corrected, standing and moving to Damian’s other side. “His name was Hawkmoth, Ladybug and her team didn’t announce who he was, just that they’d captured him and his accomplice and that they would be facing consequences fitting to their crimes.”

“At the same press conference that they announced that, Chat Noir -Ladybug’s partner- announced that he would be retiring from being a hero, but that he’d return if asked by Ladybug.” Marinette added carefully.

Damian could feel that they were keeping their emotions carefully modulated, but he couldn’t figure out why. “What did this Hawkmoth do?”

“He would use the power of an ancient magic artifact to take advantage of people when they were feeling negative emotions. He would promise they could get what they desired; the person who rejected them, revenge for some slight, the position they felt was rightfully theirs, that sort of thing. But they were just more of his victims who he used to make more victims.” Marinette sighed. “The only reason that we all survived was because Ladybug was able to reverse any damage done during Akuma attacks.”

Damian looked between his two soulmates, considering the sad but proud look Luka was giving Marinette and the pained look and emotions he saw and felt from Marinette. The same kind of pain when he wasn’t able to save someone. “You two were heroes, weren’t you?” He asked quietly, grabbing each of their hands.

Both were shocked and they exchanged a look before Marinette sighed, “I guess we wouldn’t have been able to hide it from you for long.”

“You know what? I think you will handle my family just fine.” Damian chuckled slightly. “And I cannot wait to see their faces. I won’t tell them, but they might figure it out if you tell them about Paris.”

“Well, shall we make a game of it?” Marinette was full of mischief at this point. “Or perhaps… A bet?”

***

Marinette felt a poke in her pocket, and put a hand there, feeling another on her finger. “Just a minute, I’ll be right back.” She smiled at the boys as she walked towards the bathroom. “What’s up, Plagg?”

“That’s my kitten!” He said excitedly, “I wanna tell him!”

Marinette had never seen him so excited, how could she say no? “Alright, let me break the first part of things, I’ll call you to come out, okay?” Plagg grinned and darted back into her skirt pocket, where she could feel him vibrating with pent-up energy.

Amused beyond belief, she focused her thoughts to just Luka, ‘We’re introducing the Kwami’s.’ At his confirmation, she left the bathroom and wandered over to her boys. “Why don’t we sit down for a couple minutes, we can blame it on traffic or something.” She pointed to the couch, sitting in an armchair.

“What do you mean?” Damian frowned, his confusion obvious to them despite his carefully neutral expression.

“It’s about what you figured out. Us being heroes in Paris.” Luka smiled gently, taking Damian’s hand and pulling him towards the couch. “You weren’t 100% right, but you weren’t wrong either.”

“While Chat did retire, we didn’t entirely.” Marinette began. “That magical artifact that we told you Hawkmoth used? Well, we had them too, just with different powers.”

Luka held out his wrist and pointed to his bracelet. “We still use them on occasion, mostly so we don’t get rusty.”

“So… You guys still run around in costume?” Damian wasn’t sure how to react without giving away his family’s secret.

“Yes. Chat returned his miraculous to me when he retired. I could technically call him back and ask him to take up either the same mantel or a different one, we have a number of them, not just the three. We have the one Hawkmoth used, and his accomplice Mayura. But that’s not even the whole story.” Marinette chuckled. “You see, each one is a Miraculous, that’s the name for them, and each one comes with something else. Tikki, Sass, come out please.”

“These are our Kwami’s.” Luka held his hand out and Sass landed on it, “This is Sass, he’s with the Snake Miraculous. I get the power of Second Chance and can turn back time as many times as I need to within a span of five minutes from the time I set it.”

“And this is Tikki, she is with the Ladybug Miraculous. I can summon an item to help me in battle and return it to fix the damage done in battle if the battle was against another Miraculous. I don’t know if the magic works outside of that, I haven’t tried.”

“Why tell me this now? Why so soon after we met?” Damian stood, walking to the window to look out. His mind was buzzing with information and the knowledge that they somehow trusted him completely already.

“Damian, you’re our soulmate, you were never going to be kept in the dark for long. Besides, there’s someone who wants to meet you.” Marinette said gently, her mind sending soothing thoughts. “Plagg, be gentle, don’t freak him out more than he already is.”

Another Kwami comes out from behind Marinette, floating over to him and settling on the window sill. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.”

Damian can feel the utter shock of his soulmates, but can’t for the life of him look away from the little black cat in front of him. “Hello.”

“The thing is, some people are more suited to certain Miraculi than others. I’m a nearly-perfect Creation soul with just enough of other things that I can wield other Miraculi with ease, and that was before I ever touched a Miraculous. Luka has the Snake because he’s most suited to its power, and no matter how much I platonically love Chat, and appreciate him for being a good partner, he just wasn’t that well suited to the cat, but we had to have both for us to balance each other.” She explained coming up behind Damian and taking his hand. “Plagg sensed you after we got home, he could tell we’d met you. He said you’re the one most suited to his Miraculous.”

In Marinette’s other hand was a silver ring. “You don’t have to answer right now, but we wanted you to know.” Luka went to the other side of Damian, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m not as unfamiliar with this sort of thing as you think.” Damian took a deep breath, “But that isn’t my story to tell. Thank you for trusting me, both of you. Why don’t you guys hold onto Plagg for now, let me get to know both of you and him for a while before we make any decisions?”

“I can live with that, but only if you promise to visit me!” Plagg announced, flying up to be on-level with Damian’s face, prompting a small smile from him.

“Of course.”

***

The drive to the Manor was quiet, but peaceful. Plagg was back in Marinette’s pocket, as well as Tikki and Sass in their respective hiding places. ‘Why did you discovering that we used to be and kinda still are heroes mean we can handle your family?’ Marinette asked silently, not wanting to disturb the quiet in the car.

‘I’m sure you’ve dealt with your fair share of chaos, and while they’re rowdy and will absolutely be in our business, at least you know they won’t be as bad as some of the villains you’ve dealt with.’ Damian was amused, and his fondness for his family despite his protests shone through the bond.

‘Well, we’ll just have to see who we break first.’ Luka smirked, his rarely seen mischievous side showing a little bit.

‘Break? Are you planning to try and traumatize my family?’ Damian sounded more amused than concerned.

‘If you feel that it takes superheroes to handle them, then we should make sure they can handle us too.’ Marinette giggled quietly, showing Damian that she planned to surprise them.

“This will be fun.” Damian finally said out loud. “I’ll give each of you points based on their reactions.”

“Will we be telling them or let them figure it out?” Luka asked as they drove through the gates of Wayne Manor.

“Let’s see how smart they are.” Damian smirked, taking it slow up the long driveway. “But let’s not sabotage each other like I’ve seen the two of you do.”

Both Parisians blushed and grinned. ‘Where’s the fun in not teasing each other?’ They asked simultaneously.

‘I am so screwed.’ Damian sighed and shook his head, using a phrase he heard from his brothers a number of times. ‘Just, let’s keep the game up as long as possible? We want to see how long it takes them to figure everything out, not give it away because we are being competitive.’

They agree silently and when Damian parks, Luka gets Marinette’s door for her before they walk in. Everyone was there, and the moment they walked in Bruce greeted them with a wave and brief smile on his way to the den. “So, you’ve already met Father, Todd is by the mini bar, Grayson is bouncing over like the nitwit he is.” Damian paused as Marinette giggled a bit at his description. “Cain is on that armchair there, Brown and Drake are on the sofa, and I don’t see Gordon here, but she might be busy.”

“Given what happened at the Gala, I’m going to assume those are your last names?” Marinette asked dryly. When half the room gave a sigh she giggled a bit more and nodded. “Good thing we never told him ours then.”

They went around the room giving first names and Dick stood a little closer than he needed to while looking at them very intently. “Where do I know you two from?”

“Well, we work with Jagged. Luka is in the band with him and I do design for both of them. We’ve been on tour for months, so it’ll be nice to put down some roots here in Gotham again.” Marinette explained.

“Wait. YOU’RE his designer?” Tim sputtered, sitting ramrod straight. “You’re the designer that Jagged works with exclusively, that’s also done work for Clara Nightingale and publicly schooled Gabriel Agrest right before he left the business?”

Marinette and Luka both stiffened when Gabriel’s name was said, and Damian could feel the carefully covered anger before they both smothered it. “Yeah, that’s me.” Marinette’s answer was stiff and brisk, causing everyone in the room to look at her strangely. “Sorry, there’s a reason I was as harsh as I was on Gabriel. I went to school with his son and I cannot say I liked the way Gabriel behaved. He is a rather cold man and I was glad to see Adrien gain a bit more freedom when his father stepped down.”

‘That’s not the full story, but I’ll ask later.’ Damian pointed out silently, feeling them acknowledge the request.

“Dinner is ready.” Alfred called, waiting for them to all go into the formal dining room. Damian ended up at the rear of everyone as he let his soulmates go ahead of him, and was stopped for a moment at the door. “I approve, very much.” Alfred whispered, a small smile gracing his lips.

Damian returned the small smile before schooling his expression and walking to his place on the left side of Luka. ‘Pennyworth already figured it out, but I believe he knew from our meeting at the airport.’

‘Well, he’s more observant than the rest of them then.’ Marinette internally rolled her eyes at the way the others were bickering now that they were all sitting at the table.

“How are you two getting along in Gotham? It can be a little unnerving for new people.” Dick asked, leaning his forearms on the edge of the table. “Are you staying safe?”

“We keep our heads in an emergency.” Marinette nodded, “And we’ve been staying in Gotham off and on for a year or two now, we’re just away pretty frequently because Jagged has been on tour so much lately. Besides, we lived in Paris the whole, what four? Five? Or so years that Hawkmoth was active, so… Yeah, we can handle ourselves.”

“Remember, Mari, we had heroes with magic to fix everything up after the fights, they don’t have that here.” Luka reminded her gently.

“Well yes, but I didn’t have very many times where I got incapacitated in an attack, and I know you had less than most people.” Marinette pointed out, her accent getting heavier.

“Perhaps this is not the time to discuss such things without explaining what you mean?” Damian dryly commented, sweeping a hand out to show the confused faces around the table. “I know we talked about this in the car, but the others here were not part of that conversation.”

“Right… Merde, I don’t know how you guys never heard about Hawkmoth.” Marinette sighed and shook her head.

“Who is this person? A villain?” Tim asked, his voice an intriguing combination of tired and curious.

“Well yes, he wielded a magical artifact called a Miraculous and used it to turn normal people into villains to do his bidding. He chose people who were experiencing a negative emotion, and used his power to corrupt them into villains he could control to get what he wanted.” Marinette explained.

“What did he want?” Jason asked, frowning and crossing his arms.

“Well, the Akuma Victims kept yelling about the Miraculi that Ladybug and Chat Noir used to stop him, so I’m assuming that’s what he was after. There was a lot of collateral damage pretty frequently.” Luka shuddered, Syren flashing through his mind. His family had been spared since they had just unmoored the boat, but seeing all those bodies of people who didn’t get to high ground in time.

That image floated into Mari’s and Damian’s minds, Mari had to blink back tears, recognizing some of the bodies from Luka’s memory. Damian stiffened, and looked at them in concern.

“Collateral damage?” Dick asked quietly, “What sort of collateral damage?”

“Every kind you can think of, really.” Marinette sighed, focusing on warm and happy thoughts to cheer up her boys. “Deaths, injuries, destruction of property. It was pretty brutal.” She nudged the boys mentally to make sure they were okay. “Thankfully, Ladybug was able to reverse all the damage caused by Akuma battles. Her Cure reversed everything to how it was right before the attack. People, buildings, everything.”

“How did nobody know about this? How did the League not interfere?” Bruce asked, his spine straight and shoulders tense.

“I don’t know, it always seemed like anytime anyone not from Paris left Paris, they would forget about it. The news media within Paris covered it, but it’s almost like nobody paid it any mind from outside of Paris.” Marinette shrugged. “And Ladybug fixed everything, so people would probably think it was a hoax unless they were caught up in an attack and saw it first hand.”

“And now? What happened to all that?” Steph prompted, leaning forward to see them.

“Ladybug and her team defeated Hawkmoth about two and a half years ago. They didn’t reveal who he was, but they said that they were having him punished appropriately and that he would never be a problem again.” Luka informed the room. “And then they said that Chat was retiring unless Ladybug needs him to return, the other heroes were either going back to civilian life or would be on standby, and Ladybug said she’d be around but keeping to herself for the most part.”

They spent the next hour or so eating dinner and sharing stories from different villain fights, both in Gotham and Paris. Damian’s sense of horror grew as he realized how much responsibility was on Marinette’s shoulders the whole time. He did the math and realized that she was 14 when she received her Miraculous, and from what they’d implied earlier, their mentor hadn’t been around much.

‘Damian, breathe, it’s been over for a couple years now, we’re both fine and well-adjusted. You don’t have to panic.’ Luka’s gentle voice whispered in his mind, and he felt like he was being cradled in warmth for a brief moment as Marinette shared a memory of a warm, secure hug to try and calm him.

‘I’m alright now, thank you.’ He responded quietly, still processing but from the perspective of the fact that it was long since over before he even met them.

Just then, Marinette’s phone began to ring. “Oh! I wasn’t expecting…” She trailed off when she saw the caller ID. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and walked towards the den where they’d been before dinner, using the bond as she went to tell the boys, ‘It’s Adrien.’

‘Tell him hello from me, I hope everything’s okay.’ Luka responded, frowning in concern.

“Does she get phone calls like that a lot? Where she storms out to take it?” Jason asked lazily, leaning back in his chair and tipping it onto the back legs.

“The only person she leaves the room like that for is Adrien.” Luka sighed. “We both worry about him given his Father’s behavior when we were younger, and given that it’s… Nearly 9pm where he is and he gets up super early, it’s rather odd that he would call without texting first.” Luka checked the time on his phone and sighed. “Adrien is sort of like a little brother to us both, despite being the same age as Mari and only a little younger than me. We worry about him and check in frequently, but it’s usually at scheduled times or with a text beforehand.”

Both Luka and Damian felt a shock of excitement flash through their bond with Marinette. Exchanging a look with Damian, Luka stood carefully. “I’m going to check on her.”

In the den, Luka found Marinette rapidly gushing in French over the phone at Adrien, who he could hear laughing and trying to calm her down. “Mari? What has you in such high spirits, Melody?” He asked, grinning as he couldn’t contain the happiness that Mari was putting out.

“Adrien said that he and his mom are in Metropolis and he found his soulmate!” She giggled, “He forgot to text ahead because he’s just so excited and wants to meet up sometime soon!”

“Alright, congratulations, Adrien, I’d be happy for us to all meet up, but Melody, we left an entire room full of people we were talking with in suspense.” Luka chuckled and spoke just loud enough for Adrien to hear him.

“Sorry for the interruption! I’ll text you guys with the details!” Adrien laughed and hung up without saying goodbye.

“Come on, Melody, let’s get back to dinner.”

***

Damian felt his phone buzz incessantly, but refused to check it, instead finishing dinner with his soulmates and family, waiting for them to figure out the truth. ‘How long will we leave them in suspense before telling the truth?’ He asked as they moved back to the den for coffee.

‘We could just sit on either side of you and see if that’s a big enough hint?’ Mari had gotten a bit exasperated with how oblivious the family was. ‘Honestly, they aren’t very observant, are they?’

‘About each other within the family? Not at all. With people outside of this house? Ridiculously so. Which is what makes this so interesting.’ Damian smirked a bit and crossed his arms, sitting on one of the sofas instead of his usual armchair.

Marinette and Luka sat on either side of him perfectly in sync, as though they’d practiced it. There were a few moments of silence before Jason started laughing, “I knew it!!!” He doubled over laughing, not even hearing the confusion and queries of his family.

The trio watched him wheeze in amusement, ‘I didn’t expect him to be the first to say something.’ Damian mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Jay, what are you raving about now?!” Tim sighed, slumping back into Damian’s usual armchair before stiffening and sitting up straight. “Wait, since when do YOU sit on the couch?! With people you just met?!”

The rest of the family started to mutter to themselves and Cass began to chuckle, catching the rest of them off guard. “Called it.” Was all she said, looking pointedly at Alfred.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra, you did. Master Jason, please get off the floor, we have chairs.” Alfred set down the kettle of coffee and the cups on a table and began to serve it up. “Miss Cassandra spoke to me this morning that this was a possibility, and I honestly didn’t have the heart to tell her I already knew.”

Marinette began to giggle, “I guess you’re the observant one in the family.”

Cass nodded and gave Marinette a thumbs up, mouthing, -I approve-.

More giggles from Marinette, this time with a few chuckles from Luka before the room exploded with everyone asking what was going on and why half the room knew while the rest didn’t until they all looked down to see that Damian was holding hands with both Parisians.

“Seems it was fate that I had to catch a last-minute flight.” Damian said matter-of-factly. “They are my soulmates.”

#mgi trope tussle #daminette #poly ship #lukadaminette #dc #miraculous fanfic

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airgetlamhh · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Lostbelt 2

Longpost ahead.

So.

Lostbelt 2. Finally played it after so long, and this will contain spoilers.

To make sure everyone knows what they’re getting into, I’ll give the thesis statement right here: Lostbelt 2 is bad.

The entire time I played through the story, I kept waiting for it to pick up. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor pacing, the deus ex machinas, the random things just happening for the convenience of the plot. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor characterization, the constant telling instead of showing, the moral myopia. It never did.

From nearly the very start to finish, Lostbelt 2 is bad.

We start off fairly fine! A desperate ploy to sneak through the Lostbelt to meet up with the allies we’ve learned about, the Wandering Sea, interrupted by a Lostbelt Servant attacking us with the intent of stealing the Paper Moon that allows us to perform Zero Sails. All of that is a decent setup!

And then we’re told how strong this Saber is. How incredible they are. How their swordplay surpasses anything else they’ve ever seen, how they desperately wish that Musashi was there, how no no, he didn’t use his sword, he only parried! Things that Sherlock Holmes observes, not Mashu, not the one who’s actually been fighting for two years now, so Mashu seems borderline useless. Holmes figures out it’s Sigurd because...he uses a sword in a Scandinavian Lostbelt, and he figured out that Holmes used magic because Holmes fire magic lasers at him. From this, Holmes is able to pinpoint Sigurd’s identity, and that’s just the setup for the rest of the chapter, really.

To be specific, what I mean is that we will constantly be told how incredible someone is with very little evidence, and the plot will bend and warp to make certain things happen.

The scene does exactly one good thing, which is the foreshadowing of Surtr. Coming into it knowing that aspect allowed me to appreciate little bits like Surtr talking about Heroic Spirits like he wasn’t one, and Surtr not being able to kill Mashu because Sigurd resisted it. But that’s about all that was good in the scene, and all it really does is set up a consistent thing of Surtr being one of the only good parts - until he isn’t, of course.

I’m going to shift here from specifics to characters, because otherwise I’d be rehashing the entire story and I don’t have the time or effort required for that. That being said, it is difficult to decide where to start, so I’ll go right to the very building blocks of the story, the themes.

Lostbelt 2 is, very obviously, attempting to have a theme of different kinds of love throughout the story. Part of this is because it’s very much set up like an otome game that the author Hikaru Sakurai would write, with Ophelia in the center, but it’s a more general theme too, with Skadi and the others all building up towards it. Now, love is an absolutely wonderful thing to build your themes around, exploring and examining it can be great for stories. Beasts themselves do that, examining different varieties of genuine, but toxic love that allow them to be well-meaning monsters.

The problem is that Lostbelt 2 does not engage with these themes on anything but a surface level. Skadi represents maternal love, so she constantly talks about how everyone is her children and how she’s their mother. No examination of the desire to see her children grow, the pain she feels when they fight, the struggle of forcing herself to cling so tightly knowing that it’s suffocating them and going to kill them before they reach 26.

Napoleon represents passionate love, so he flirts with every woman he sees. No examination of why he’s so passionate or what drives him to burn so brightly, beyond a token mention that for some reason when he’s summoned he’s driven to seek out a lover, another aspect of things happening to serve the plot.

Sigurd and Brynhildr represent true, romantic love, so they act mushy the entire chapter from the moment the real Sigurd appears. Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked their scenes a lot and I’m happy that they chose that portrayal instead of the one I was afraid of where it was yandere jokes day in day out. But there’s no engagement with the fundamentals of their love, nothing that tests it, even the existing complications with Brynhildr’s tragic summoning are swept away with a single line of “I can resist them better now maybe because my saint graph is broken”, so ultimately there’s no conflict whatsoever. And sure, that’s nice, but it’s not very good if you’re trying to build your story around a theme of love.

Next, Surtr, who represents obsessive, dangerous love. I honestly actually think Surtr’s done well, even if the love he happens to represent is the least positive one. Surtr is capable of only one thing, destruction, and when he fell for Ophelia in that moment where she saw him and he saw her, he decided that if he ever had the chance, he would repay her the only way he knew how: allowing her to watch as he destroyed everything. When he’s summoned, he acts basically like the possessive one in an otome game, constantly talking about how Ophelia is his woman, getting angry when Napoleon flirts with her, spending most of his time pushing things between them as far as they can go etc. etc. I’m not particularly a fan of how his desire to repay Ophelia battling against his singular purpose transformed him into a typical possessive bastard boyfriend, but it’s at least engaged with on a deeper level.

Finally, Ophelia. She’s the otome game protagonist here, born into an controlling family and finally freed, hiding a secret special power, beloved by almost all the men involved in the chapter while she’s harboring feelings for someone else, even has the typical friendship route with Mashu going on. Her love is a love that she doesn’t acknowledge, but that’s all it is. It’s never engaged with beyond the fact that she clearly loves Kirschtaria but insists she doesn’t, and her final scene as she dies is Mashu telling her that yes, she did love Kirschtaria. That’s all.

For a theme of love that’s supposedly woven into the Lostbelt, it’s barely examined at all. It’s not well written, and in comparison to Lostbelt 1′s theme of what it means to live in a world where the strong devour the weak and how deeply it examined and engaged with that, it’s a genuine disappointment.

Now, to move onto the plot, it’s...in the abstract, it’s fine. Chaldea is intercepted and forced to fight in the Lostbelt and ends up dragged into the overarching ploy by Surtr to release himself and burn everything. That’s a perfectly fine story, but the problem is that when you get to the moment-to-moment stuff, it falls apart completely.

Skadi is constantly talked up as this incredibly powerful true goddess, not merely a Divine Spirit, and we know she can see and hear our every move because of her snow. How does the story work around this borderline omniscience within her Lostbelt? Skadi just decides not to do anything about Chaldea with zero rhyme or reason. We need to sneak into the palace and avoid alerting the guards, except Skadi already knows exactly where we are, except that doesn’t matter because we need to sneak in for some reason. We get captured with no plan to escape, and it just so happens that not only was Skadi keeping a Divine Spirit amalgamation locked in the dungeons too, but that she can piggyback on you making a contract with Napoleon (pure dumb luck you hadn’t done it before) and force a connection with you too, and then cast spells to hide you while you escape. Skadi knows we’re trying to free Brynhildr, who is the sole threat to Sigurd and Skadi’s own Valkyries in the entire Lostbelt? She just decides to do nothing at all.

So much of the plot happens because either Skadi makes terrible decisions to do nothing, even though she knows Chaldea is there to destroy her entire world, or it happens because random shit goes on that couldn’t have been planned for like Sitonai. Shit like Surtr suddenly becoming Fafnir and being able to use the Evil Dragon Phenomenon to brainwash Ophelia somehow, like Ophelia’s Mystic Eye being able to do anything the plot demands, even when it explicitly goes against its existing capabilities like rewinding time on Sigurd’s wounds, like Bryn and Surtr somehow being able to resist the effects of her eye with no buildup or explanation. It’s poorly written in terms of the exact events that happen, and that all culminates in Skadi’s one cool moment, where she declares she’s going to kill the seven billion we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand...and then right after, it reveals that Skadi was going easy on us and refused to use her runes of instant death for no reason even though she was fighting for the survival of her entire world. The moment to moment plot is not good, and neither is what comes next, the worldbuilding.

In Skadi’s Lostbelt, half the world is covered in Surtr’s flames, while the other half is blanketed in Skadi’s snow. Where the two areas meet are the only places where life can grow, and so Skadi set up villages there. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough food for everyone, so she enforces strict population control: if you are not the mother or father of a child by 15, you are sent away to be killed by the giants. If you are the mother or father of a child, you are sent away to be killed at 25 instead. Through this tragic method, Skadi enforces a limit of 100 villages with 100 people, a total population of 10000. This is all fine.

But take a closer look at what we actually see, and this falls apart. First, the giants. The giants are immortal and never need to eat. They do nothing but sleep all day and attack any human that comes close to them. Later, it’s revealed that they’ll attack any heat source including Valkyries, except we know that’s not true. Giants never attack each other, they never attack and destroy any of the plant life around them, they never attack the Lostbelt tree seeds, they even fight alongside mass-produced Valkyries before it’s revealed that Skadi and the three originals can mind-control them! They exist only to destroy, but Skadi can control them with her masks and indeed uses them as labour, keeping them chained up in her castle to be brought out and controlled as needed, or using them to guard Brynhildr’s castle.

Worst of all, the first time we meet anyone in the chapter, it’s Gerda, who is sneaking out of her village to go to the massive liveable area close to Village 23. This area happens to be the only place she can go to get medicinal herbs that she needs or one of the people in her village will die in childbirth. This area is also full of giants, who have not destroyed it despite being fertile and full of life and heat, and who are allowed to take this place that could be used to grow more food for humans who need it, and simply stay there doing nothing.

Now, this is where I thought the game would engage with things. How Skadi, in professing her love for all her children, is actually being cruel and unfair. They certainly set it up in the conversations she has, where she casually mentions how humans must die for her coexistence to continue. Skadi chooses to keep the giants alive despite the fact that they are all braindead and can do nothing but kill and destroy the moment their masks are removed. She chooses to keep them alive even though it comes at the expense of the humans who must die when the giants never make that same sacrifice. She chooses to allow them fertile land even though they cannot farm nor do they need food, and in doing so deprive the humans of potentially living longer, having more supplies to do so. She makes these strange choices and then later reveals she can control the giants to do her bidding, and it all seems to fall into place.

What we see from how she’s characterized early on is that the system is unfair and Skadi is unwilling to change, because it benefits her tremendously. Gerda’s village didn’t have enough herbs to save the children forced to breed by 15, and despite Skadi’s omniscience letting her know that Gerda had snuck out and was trying to save a life, she did nothing. There was no system in place to beg a Valkyrie to get these herbs, and no indication whatsoever that Skadi would use her powers to control the giants to save Gerda’s life. The picture painted is someone who cares about humanity not out of true care, but simply out of obligation. Those who disobey her rules, even for good reasons, are left to die by the engines of destruction she keeps alive.

That’s not the story it tells later on, though. Skadi, portrayed from the start as this all-powerful goddess with complete control over everything, is revealed to be far weaker than we thought, and far less monstrous. Ignore all the times she did control the giants, she actually can’t do it all that well. Ignore all the times she declared she would not allow anyone she loved to be killed, but chose not to act to tell her Valkyries or her giants or anything else to save either Chaldea or Gerda. Ignore the evidence we see on screen that there’s more land that’s simply taken over by the giants, Skadi can only make those initial 100 villages and can’t make any more. Skadi is not bad. Skadi did the best she could. Skadi is morally right.

Please love Skadi, there’s no complicated moral quandary here, she’s just Good.

Comparisons to Lostbelt 1 are impossible to avoid. Both have the same basic cause, a calamity that was impossible to predict and impossible to avert. The stagnation that dooms a Lostbelt created by the kings in question in their desperation to survive. Ivan turned humanity into the Yaga and created a world of strength, where progress is impossible because everyone in his new world was too busy devouring each other to work together. Skadi created a world of weakness, where progress is impossible because she limited the population to avoid everyone dying out. There is, however, one crucial difference between the two. Not in terms of story, not in terms of characters, not in terms of themes.

“Your existence itself has already become a grave sin.”

That one line, spoken to Ivan, is the biggest difference between how the story engages things. In both Lostbelts, Ivan and Skadi did horrible things and made horrible choices because they had to, for the sake of survival. Ivan twisted humanity into monsters that lost capacity for mercy or empathy, while Skadi forced brutal population control and careless death on humanity because of her refusal to allow the giants to be destroyed. Both of them did horrible things, but only one is held to account by the story.

What Ivan did was evil, and the story recognises it. It doesn’t accept the excuse that it was all necessary for survival, because that’s irrelevant. It’s evil regardless. This same sentiment should have been expressed with Skadi, but it’s not. Ivan is condemned, but Skadi is absolved. She had no choice. She did the best she could. After building her up as all-powerful, the end of the story instead destroys her agency and power in its haste to prevent any kind of responsibility falling on Skadi’s head. Even to the very end, where she declares that she’ll kill all seven billion lives we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand, she holds back and allows us to win, despite how it butchers her character.

The biggest irony in all this is that Ivan’s world was worse than hers in ways. There was no way for the blizzards to stop, no meat besides for the demonic beasts. Crops couldn’t grow, and instead of living in peace, the Yaga were constantly tormented and killed by the Oprichniki. There were no liveable areas like there are in Lostbelt 2, no merciful ruler that sees all, and controls the greatest threats, no peaceful villages where food can be grown. There’s far more justification for Ivan to claim he had no choice and that he did all he did for survival, because it’s hard to see what his choices were. But Skadi? Skadi intentionally does not act and intentionally allows suffering and pain to come to her children, both actively by not saving Gerda, and passively by allowing the giants to take land they don’t need. Despite this, Skadi is absolved, because the story desperately wants her to be a tragic waifu that you love.

There’s lots more I could talk about. How Sitonai was pointless and existed only for a pathetic FSN reference. How Gerda was a cowardly and manipulative piece of writing compared to Patxi. How Ophelia’s story of always being told what to do is resolved not by her taking the step to freedom herself, but being told to free herself by someone else. The constant repetition that plagues the chapter, the weirdly prevalent sexism that everyone gets in on when it comes to Ophelia’s love life, the nonsense of the final battle itself, the absolute nonsense of Skadi being Scáthach-Skadi. I could even talk about how I’d fix the chapter, because boy howdy there’s a lot there.

There’s lots more I could talk about, but this is already very long, and I think it speaks for itself. Obviously asks are available if anyone wants me to examine them in more detail, but for now, I’ll finish off with one last reminder.

Lostbelt 2 is bad.

#FGO #fgo lostbelt #cosmos in the lostbelt #Lostbelt 2 #Fate Grand Order #Fate/Grand Order

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