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bippot · 3 months

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Oooo I love you sooo much!!🙇‍♀️💜 Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader where a bad guy had taken her and being in a lot of danger, she ended up killing him in self defense, and Adrian (as Vigilante, while on his nightly searches for criminals to kill) happens upon a traumatized, covered in blood Y/n, shaking and crying with her head in her hands, muttering about not wanting to be a bad person and she’s just in shock of what happened to her and what she had to do. She’s the type of person who wouldn’t even hurt a fly, she has never even so much as held any type of weapon. Vig kneels down to her height and promises to “take care” of it, him attempting to comfort her in his own Vigilante way, also carrying her to his car and bringing her to his apartment. He would definitely be trying to assure her that she did nothing wrong in his eyes, he takes care of her injuries and takes care of her as she starts to pretty much live in his apartment, and what was supposed to be a few days, turns into months of her living with him, as neither one of them wanted her to leave. She feels safe with him and fell in love and he wants to protect her and is feeling in love for the first time 🥹

Bacon and Bloodshed

Patrol could get boring. As Vigilante became more well known for hunting in certain areas, criminals would stop being in those areas. Of course they would! Being out in the open doing in Evergreen and doing shady stuff guaranteed a bullet between the brows. Only someone from out of town would be so stupid to attempt to kidnap a woman when they were firmly in the 'Vigilante Zone'.

Dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants, a thug who used to run around Gotham doing his misdeeds - and only left when he got on the bad side of Two Face and was lucky when a coin was flipped to see whether he got to flee or be shot in the eye - found himself in Evergreen. He lurked in the backseat of a completely dark car, waiting for the woman who owned it to finish her shift.

Fate was kind to some. A bitch to others. All of Adrian's life had been filled with hardship, maybe it was time for his luck to flip.

As soon as she sat down in the driver's seat, his hand came around the headrest to hold a knife against her throat. The criminal expected her to scream. To plead for her life. To cry. But she didn't. She was quiet in shock before she saw an opportunity as he was adjusting his position so he could hold the knife more comfortably and there was a brief moment of time when he moved his arm just enough away that she could bite down really hard into the fleshy part of his hand.

"You bitch!" He yelped in pain, dropping the knife into her lap and jerking his arm away.

Y/N picked it up and darted out of the car, running as fast as she could for the closest building that had a light on and people in. Most shops were closed. People were asleep. The corner store she'd had a late shift had its shutters down - she knew that, she did it - and the only option left was to dart down a dingy alleyway as the thug was hot on her heels.

She was going to die tonight, Y/N was sure of it at that moment. But not before she fought. She wasn't going down without kicking beforehand.

The alley was dark, the only light coming from a flickering red neon sign with a really disgusting logo for what she assumed was a tattoo studio. It was quite apart from the sound of the man's heavy footsteps echoing off the walls. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him breathing heavily and knew he was gaining on her.

And then he caught up to her. He was so close Y/N could smell him, see his shadow looming over her. So, she stopped and turned around, the knife held out in front of her like a sword. "You're not going to kill me, pretty lady." He laughed. "You don't have a chance in hell."

That wasn't true. She was a lot faster than him when he lunged for the knife, and while he was bigger than her and could easily wrestle it out of her hands as soon as he got the chance, he didn't get the chance. The thug was no match for a big cut across the neck she gave him, and he collapsed on the ground, gurgling blood.

Staring down at the man who had tried to kill her for no apparent reason, her hands shook and her knees felt weak. She stood over him as his arm raised, almost as if he was asking her to help in some way. "Oh no. No. No. No..."

In an instant, she dropped the knife and slumped to the ground, her palms pressing down on his wound to try and stop the bleeding. It was a futile effort, but it was all she could do. The man gurgled again, more blood dribbling out of his mouth and splattering all over her clothes and arms until he just stopped. No movement. No twitches. No rising and falling of his chest. Nothing.

Despite what she originally thought, Y/N was going to live. And was going to live with this for the rest of her life. A lump filled her throat and she began to cry, her hands wiping away tears and replacing them with streaks of blood. She stayed there for so long, her body shaking and racked with sobs that it felt like she couldn't stop no matter how hard she tried.

"Aw, I missed all the fun!"

Jolting to point the knife at whoever had just spoken, Y/N looked like she was about to puke. Her eyes were red, her nose runny, her face was covered in blood, and she was shaking like a leaf. Once she realised Vigilante was the one who spoke, she held her hands up in surrender and was babbling, "H-he, uh, he tried to kill me! He had a knife! I don't know - I really don't- I don't why! I don't know why he did it! It was all just a mistake! Please, I just, I j-just really want to go... Can I go?"

Slowly, so slowly so he didn't spook her, Vigilante got closer and lowered the weapon with the tip of his forefinger. He squatted down in front of her until their noses were practically touching - well, if he didn't have his mask on, they would've booped. "Miss, you okay?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Y-yeah," she managed through her tears. "I-I just, I t-thought I was, uh, I was going to die."

He poked the dead guy with his boot to push the body fully onto his back and fully examine the damage. "You sliced this guy up, good job," he said, shaking his head and chuckling. "He was a big guy too. Damn, you're good with that knife. You really got him."

Adrian had intended to be a compliment, but Y/N's face scrunched and she began crying again. "Did I say something wrong? Please don't cry. I'm not good with that sort of thing. I'm sorry," he added, reaching out to touch her shoulder in the hopes it was comforting.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she asked, sniffling. "You're going to kill me 'cause I did that."

"Why would I do that?"

A small laugh escaped her mouth but it was dry and humourless. With a whimper, she wiped at her nose with the back of her wrist. "I'm a killer... oh my god, I'm a killer. I fucking killed that guy. Like, I knew that but - Jesus fuck! - I'm going to hell," she exclaimed, burying her face in her knees. "I don't even believe in hell!"

"Eh, it was self defence. No big deal."

Her crying continued unabated and he knew he needed to get here out of the alley before the police came. "Hey, hey, look, don't cry," he said, trying to get her to look at him with her wet, beautiful eyes that he wished he could see without the red glass of his visor obscuring what colour they were. "Look, you're just a girl who had a bad night. And, yeah, that bad night involved killing a guy... if there's one thing you should take away from this experience it's that you are a badass!"

"A badass?"

"Yeah, and since you're such a badass, I think we should get you away from this crime scene so you don't get put in jail," Vigilante explained, getting to his feet. "It's okay, I swear. I'll make it look like I killed him, no sweat."

Holding his hand out, he helped her to her feet. She hesitated for a moment before she placed her hand in his, her eyes darting around the scene again. Surely, her prints would be all over this place. Even if she fled, there'd be remnant DNA to place her at the scene.

"I can tell my boss that this guy had an alien in his head and she'll clean this up." He looked down at the body again. "Wait, hang on. Lemme just -" Vigilante unsheathed his gun and shot at the dead guy's head. "We really have to go now. Bring the knife with you."

Without another word, Y/N grabbed the bloody knife by the blade and followed him out of the alley, walking quickly to keep up with his long strides. She was shivering, scared out of her mind, and following a masked hero to his car that he called his 'Vigilante-mobile'. The second her butt hit the comfy seat of his Sebring, all the adrenaline that was barely keeping her together finally depleted and she passed out with her head against the car door, her body exhausted from her near-death experience.

When Y/N awoke, she was safe and sound and under a warm duvet. She wasn't in her house, that was clear. And she'd definitely never seen the jumper she was wearing. Whoever had put it on her (she assumed Vigilante but she couldn't be sure) hadn't removed her bloodstained shirt and, therefore, ruined his own clothes. Y/N tiptoed as silently as she could out of the bedroom, unsure of whose house she was sneaking around.

Maybe he thought he wouldn't fall asleep when he lay down on the couch for a breather. Or maybe he would wake before she did. Or maybe it was just that the mask was uncomfortable to sleep in. Because his face was out on display as he slept. Full display. His mouth open. His hair wild. And his gear at a pile by the leg of his sofa, just in case.

And she saw him in all of his handsome glory. Without a doubt, that was the awkward busboy from Fennel Fields. On the few times Y/N had been there, she always let her eyes linger on his bespectacled face despite how much her friends teased her about it. It felt weird knowing who Vigilante was, even if she didn't know his real name. When he woke up to realise she was gone and had gotten enough of a look at him to be able to point him out on a lineup, he would hunt her down. Y/N had decided she'd done enough running the previous night and, yeah, it would be harder to get away from Vigilante.

So, she didn't run. She gently tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey," she whispered, leaning over and poking him in the chest. "Hey, Vigilante."

Adrian startled awake, almost falling off the edge of his sofa as he scrambled around for his mask.

"There's no point. I know what you look like."

"Shit."

His search stopped. Then, he just stared at her as he tried to figure out what to do. He'd killed people for less. But it was his incompetence that caused this situation and she should have to die for something that was his fault. There was a secret other reason for why he didn't want to kill her. One that was superficial and totally not logical at all. His cock was the one who created that reason and this was not the time to be thinking with dick.

"Do you want breakfast?" He offered like they were pal's and this was a completely normal thing to happen between them. "I make a mean bacon sandwich."

She nodded slowly, unsure if she was going to be poisoned or have a nice meal with a crime fighting vigilante. It seemed it was the latter since he got to frying the bacon in no time, whistling an upbeat tune as he flitted about his kitchen. "What's your name?" Adrian asked, trying to get a read on her. Was she going to run? Would she try to attack him? Or would his ultimate dream play out and she'd totally be enamoured by his cool and super suave lady saving ways?

"Y/N. You're the cute busboy from Fennel Fields."

Most people on the FBI's watch list would focus on the fact that she knew an aspect of his life he hadn't told her. She could recognise him and that was potential information she could tell law enforcement. Adrian didn't focus on that, though. The goofiest smile she'd ever seen on anyone ever came over his face as he replied, "You think I'm cute?"

"...Yeah."

"YOU think I'M cute?"

"Whenever I eat there, I try to hype myself up to flirt with you but, I don't know, you're at work - I know I hate it when guys hit on me while I'm working - I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Being hit on by strangers isn't part of your job description," Y/N explained, her voice a little quick and rambly like she was trying to get all her words out before he got weirded out.

Adrian's smile somehow widened even more. His eyes flitted over her body before he went back to looking at the bacon as he started pushing around the pan. "You think I'm cute," he repeated again, this time smugness replacing his initial doubt.

"I do."

"I think you're cute, too." He smiled a little bashfully to himself, then confirmed that, "If you wanted to hit on me, I wouldn't mind."

"Oh, okay then. Maybe I will."

Mirroring his, Y/N also got a huge smile on her face as she rested against the countertop and beamed up at him, inquiring, "What's your name?" while he tried not to keep all his focus on her. He didn't want to burn the bacon but it looked as if that was what 2as going to happen.

"Adrian."

"Adrian?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm... you do look like an Adrian."

"Is that a good thing?"

Y/N shrugged, a mischievous giggle tumbling from her lips. He rolled his eyes, but found himself laughing along with her. He'd never been particularly good at flirting, but somehow with Y/N, he was finding that he really wanted to try. "You look like a Y/N," he added, his voice lower, his eyes flitting up and down her form. "I've always thought Y/N was a name for someone pretty and you've proven me so right."

Her cheeks flushed at his compliment and she ducked her head to look at her shoes. Adrian couldn't grasp the fact that he'd successfully made her blush. It was a miracle. A jolt of pride went through him at this victory of making her blush, of getting a reaction out of her, of being more successful than ever before.

They ate their bacon baps, conversation bubbling up as they got to know each other. Bit by bit, Y/N revealed some details about herself and Adrian did the same. It was almost as if they had stumbled into an unexpected breakfast date. They were fairly similar - both living on the nerdier side of life and accustomed to being alone - but there was one glaring difference, Y/N was practically harmless (except from the night before).

She'd reprimanded Adrian for trying to kill a spider and ensured that it was safely placed outside with a glass and a discarded takeaway menu. When he told her all about his misdeeds in gruesome detail, she asked him to tone it down a bit. It was just too gross. And, even though they should've spoken about it just a little bit, Y/N changed the subject immediately when he brought up the thug from the night before. She didn't revel in her violence in the way he did. It was a momentary blip. An act of self defence. And it would be something she'd think about for the rest of her life.

Breakfast turned to lunch and they were still talking. Adrian discovered that it was nice to be listened to. Actually listened to. He was so used to being brushed off and dismissed, but Y/N didn't do that. She sat at the dining table, her head resting on her fist, and laughed at his jokes and encouragingly nodded and asked follow up questions. It was weird, but a good weird.

"Oh, is that the time?" Y/N finally noticed how long she'd been in his apartment for. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you had a bunch of stuff to do today and I just got in the way. I'll get out of your hair now."

"No!" He didn't intend to sound so eager. Adrian coughed. "I, uh, I mean... you could stay if you'd like to. I mean, if you don't have anything planned. You can stay in my hair, y'know, hold tight to those follicles if that's what you want."

More giggles came out of her thanks to his words and he found himself grinning and biting his tongue to not say something even more stupid. "Would you like me to stay?" Y/N asked, looking at him with her big, soft eyes.

"I mean, if you don't have plans or something."

"I'm free. For the whole day, if you'd like."

Adrian felt a grin spread over his face. "I would like that very much, yeah."

She leaned in close to him, her face only an inch from his, and whispered, "I can stay all night, if you're interested in that too?"

Those words shot through him with the speed of a bullet. The smile that had spread was now practically splitting his face in half. "I'm interested." He heard the squeakiness of his voice but couldn't do anything about it. "I'm very, very interested."

His hands found her waist and he pulled her closer to him, pressing his hips against her. He could feel the rise and fall of her breath, the tempo increasing the closer he got. Her hand slid up his arm and into his hair, fingers wrapping around the back of his head.

"Good," she let out, her lips so close to his that he could feel her breath on him. "Because I'm interested too."

"Can you stay forever?"

"I can try."

Their eyes locked, hers twinkling, his wide with laughter and something that looked very much like giddiness. He felt his heart thudding in his chest and his ears were filled with the beat. He wanted to close his eyes, to press his nose into the side of her neck, to bury his face into her hair, to kiss every inch of her, to cherish her company for however long fate allowed him.

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x y/n #peacemaker

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mareastrorum · 5 months

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The Fool and the Soldier: Chapter Commentary

Chapter 8: Spark & Blaze

On off weeks, I’ll be posting some commentary on the prior week’s chapter. Since this is a longfic, I expect that it will be helpful for keeping track of stuff, plus I might mention something you missed. Of course, this will include spoilers, so continue with that in mind.

These aren’t meant to be comprehensive! There is so much more going on that I’m not saying. Feel free to ask questions too, either in replies or asks. If it’s too spoilery, I’ll let you know. I’ll add them to the body at the bottom as I receive them.

See the directory for other meta posts.

Spark & Blaze

This was one of Jester’s cards. In the CR deck from the shop, this is “the card of Fire” and the description of Spark is, “Someone is responsible for this. Maybe you, maybe some asshole.” Blaze is “Sometimes there are consequences. Sometimes they hurt.” Thus, this chapter focuses on responsibility, blame, and consequence.

The Warden

I wrestled with this scene quite a bit because simply retelling the fight with Molly added didn’t seem like enough of a reason to include the battle. However, I wanted to demonstrate another reason Molly would be interested in the rite of flame, and I figured Molly would have absolutely eaten a bunch of the fruit in the grove. Adding that facet was a little flavor without changing too much and made for a more interesting introductory scene.

I added the flashback because the Nein took a short rest in the stream before going down into the grove and I wanted to include some exposition without spending too much time on it. Caleb did some identify rituals then, so I had him also identify the necklace Molly looted last chapter, which is an Amulet of Health. That bumped Molly’s constitution from 14 to 19, which adds 2 health per level, giving him 12 more hit points (17.3% increase). Notably, his hemocraft die is a d6, so that covers the average damage he would take from 2 rites and 2 amplified blood curses. His new max is 81. For perspective, he was already the highest HP over Yasha in 2nd place at 68. Now he’s more than double Caleb’s at 37 (the lowest). Of course, that meant Molly had a higher chance of not getting high from the drug fruit, but since it’s Molly, clearly that just meant he needed to eat more fruit. Which he did.

I debated whether Molly would keep the periapt. It saved him in this AU, but only because Lorenzo chose not to make a killing blow, and Molly is savvy enough to recognize that. After the fight against the marid, I figured he would give it to one of the support. The ruthless strategy aspect is that, assuming 2 people were making death saves and either could have had the periapt, it would be better to actively heal up a damage-dealer that didn’t rely on spell slots because they can keep doing damage. Being able to rely on an item to stabilize someone who is reliant on spell slots makes that easier. Plus that makes it less harrowing if the support goes down behind cover, where the healers might not be able to easily see/reach them for a heal. However, Molly offers it to Caleb first, which made sense because he is a wet paper towel. And because Molly thinks the dirt wizard is cute, but he’s not examining that too closely.

I don’t think Molly would have been a fan of fluffernutter in this context. He didn’t want to throw dynamite at the troll in Labenda swamp because he wanted to rob the troll first. Similarly here, the Nein didn’t know what they needed in the final room, so just throwing in an explosive might ruin whatever they were doing. While Molly might have been fine with thwarting Avantika, if there was loot, he wanted that too. But since that would have been a general repeat of Labenda, I figured I’d have him be thoroughly distracted by being high as a kite and lacking the attention span to sort out what was going on.

I actually went through the fight for a few reasons. First, Molly hasn’t had a POV for a fight he actually won yet. I didn’t want to give the wrong impression that perhaps that meant something on a meta level—it doesn’t, it just hadn’t been suitable for an earlier fight scene. Second, it’s fun to examine how some fights would have gone differently if Molly had also been there. Third, I hadn’t had much opportunity to show off Molly’s blood hunter skills.

Thus, the whole fight is shown from Molly’s perspective. Of course, he runs in ahead of the rest, which ends up separating him from everyone else once the hydra shows up. Molly has a rare moment of honest self-criticism, mostly because he’s not going to keep his facade of “I meant to do that” as well when he’s high and in the middle of a fight.

Molly running in also let me show off the yuan-ti’s abomination’s constrict and bite abilities, which would be a nasty combo back to back. If Caleb hadn’t slowed the abomination twice, the abomination would have been able to do 3 attacks each turn. Molly would have been fucked. That said, Molly occupying its attention meant that the ranged didn’t have to worry about rushing out of line of sight as desperately.

The Nein’s choices were mostly unaffected, but even small ones changed the balance of the fight. While the hydra was clearly the bigger threat, I felt confident that Yasha would help Molly out first, especially since it went after Avantika right away. With Yasha out of line of sight and focusing on a smaller threat, Caduceus didn’t use path to the grave until the very last hit on the hydra from Yasha, so the hydra didn’t lose as much health so quickly, which also meant that a different number of heads were lopped off and regrown. Other than that, the Nein’s actions generally remained the same.

That said, Molly’s curses helped a lot. Bloated Agony was the level 6 choice, and that did a bunch of necrotic damage to the hydra over 3 rounds. Even though it’s not an optimal spell to use on monsters with high constitution, I thought Molly would rather gamble it anyway, and it paid off. Even with a +5, it rolled like shit. Molly’s hemocraft save is only 14, but I rolled a 2, 8, and 7. (I used the same d20 for the hydra and Molly, so interpret that as you will.) The eyeless curse also prevented a ton of damage to Beau, who was knocked out in the stream.

Overall, I’m happy with how the fight turned out. Building suspense in this type of encounter is easier when we don’t see a hit point counter and just go off vibes, and Molly got all sorts of bad vibes from getting grappled/bit and being unable to see if Beau was alright.

The Lock

This scene is mostly set up for ongoing issues. In the stream, the Nein didn’t really understand what they were doing in the temple. They only knew it related to Avantika’s plan to release Uk’otoa somehow, but not that the orbs were keys and the temple had a lock. They figured it out eventually. (Too late.)

Why did Yasha look at Molly when he said he didn’t have any eyes on his head? Hmm…

I sure kept some boring exposition about schools of spellcasting. I sure did.

The Curse of Undeath

In Exandria, the Curse of Undeath has not had consistent rules applied to every character. Vax was a Revenant in campaign 1, Matt then posted a Lingering Soul class in 2018, and now we have Laudna as a Hollow One. Each describes a different physical experience with unique circumstances, abilities, and limits. That’s in addition to all of the various undead in D&D. Since Matt’s gone in so many different directions, while I am confident he would have made Lucien undead specifically to give Taliesin an adversary suitable for his Ghostslayer subclass, I genuinely have no clue how much the classic version of the curse would have come into play.

Thus, I added this scene to give the reader an idea of what would be expected of a ghost in this AU, as well as what Zoran has noticed. He is the only Tombtaker that would have an objective perspective on the Curse of Undeath in this context and the expertise to recognize signs of it. I wanted to include at least one scene of him breaking down his observations, and by now, there’s been about two weeks for him to do that. The audience also got an idea that Lucien can tap into class abilities—which ghosts cannot do. But there are limits.

There’s quite a few things that don’t match up. Something to keep in mind.

Jobs & Hooch

Another check-in with Caduceus, who is slowly settling. He’s not navel-gazing as much and is going with the flow much more easily.

With Fjord stepping more into a leadership position, Molly definitely would have given him a lot of sass. But Fjord’s also pretty good at manipulating people, and he’s sorted some of Molly’s hangups, so it doesn’t take too much to get that under control.

I came up with the idea for drug fruit wine forever ago. It was in the earliest outline, and I don’t recall why it came to mind. I kept it the whole time though, it was too good to pass up.

Rite of Flame

The Nein reached level 7 before arriving at Darktow, so I wanted to include some signal to the reader of that. I also wanted to explore how Molly tries to sort out his blood hunter abilities on his own at some point, so it was good timing here.

Molly has Caleb on the brain. Is he going to examine why? Absolutely not. He’s distracting himself with a fire sword.

Preparation

Another Cree scene! Hooray.

I did consider sending the Tombtakers after the Nein on a ship contracted with the Myriad. Assuming the canon timeline, they would have caught up at a very dramatic point. However, Lucien’s goal is to recover a body. Doing that at sea, in naval combat, while also keeping Cree alive (since she is the only one who would resurrect him) and somehow escaping any survivors? Probably not good odds compared to waiting to ambush in Nicodranas.

Odd, considering that Lucien was fine with running the Tombtakers and Nein out into a blizzard to try to make progress toward Aeor—twice. Hmmm.

While Zoran noted issues specific to the curse of undeath, Cree noticed that Lucien is not acting like himself. In the stream, she was very careful to completely back Lucien up whenever the Tombtakers encountered the Nein until the Immensus Gate, after they’d lost the rest of their group and Lucien still refused to kill them. Like, if Lucien had set off the intuit charges right then, Cree could have died too—she was willing to risk it to kill the Nein. It took that much for her to express disagreement in front of outsiders. So I figured Cree wouldn’t bring up these types of concerns in front of the other Tombtakers either, but she would in private.

So by this scene, the audience has a better idea of what Lucien has told the Tombtakers collectively. More pertinently, what he hasn’t told them, not even Cree.

Dream: Regret

I got a wonderful commission from @runmienn for this scene.

The rhyme at the beginning of the scene is “The Two Cats of Kilkenny” which is an anonymously composed limmerick about a cruel practice of tying two cats’ tails together and letting them fight to the death. Kilkenny is a town in Ireland, so it presumably originated there or around there. There isn’t a Kilkenny in Exandria, so I changed the first line to better match the story.

There is a character trait that I felt was very important to establish in the dreams: ruthlessness. A lot of people mix that up with cruelty, but they are not the same. Ruthlessness is deciding on a goal and moving there in a straight line. Obstacles either move or will be moved.

During the entire Aeor arc, Lucien never started a fight with the Nein until the final battle. That’s strange considering how ruthless Matt painted him. He slaughtered the drow that tried to stop him from taking the first threshold crest. He chased the Nein through the night and demanded everyone continue through the next day. He pushed the group through two blizzards. Lucien had his sights on a goal, and no one was going to get in his way or slow him down. So why not just kill them?

Yes, there’s the bit about liking the Nein. Lucien had those twitches and strange reactions when they tried to call out to Molly. But, again, I’m not using anything from TNEOL. Lucien never acted like he heard voices, let alone Molly, and if Molly had been speaking directly to Lucien, I doubt his reaction would have been confusion as much as anger if he truly understood that Molly could interfere with his control over his own body. I don’t find that to be a compelling explanation when Lucien’s personality was otherwise consistent.

But I grew up in dangerous places stricken by poverty. I’ve seen many iterations of people who act in similar ways. I was that kid for a while. The dialogue I used in the dream is a set of rehashed conversations I had with people in those places. Thus, in this version, Lucien didn't start a fight with the Nein because he doesn't usually start fights; he retaliates.

Would this have happened if Lucien wasn’t alone? Maybe; it depends on where he’d be and who was with them. Unfortunately for him, he got jumped by people that knew him, so they knew his habits. The goliath, the dwarf, and the black-haired boy were all the same kids from the earlier dreams. They were the ones that were recruited in the previous chapter.

That said, as with most bullies, there is a point where they decide a victim is too much trouble compared to other targets. Lucien would not have won if they all ganged up on him, but he’d have gone down swinging a knife, and even if he wasn’t experienced with it, it only takes one cut to lose a knife fight.

No one wants to lose a knife fight.

Of course, I figured that was also a good spot to introduce his willingness to use two weapons. He absolutely has to practice that though, and a pitchfork isn’t a good choice.

As a final note, Matt very clearly established racism against tieflings as part of his lore and that it was a thing in Shadycreek Run. There were very few things that Lucien told the Nein about himself (personally, not the Nonagon or the Somnovem), and that people weren’t kind to him because of his race was one of them. Thankfully, I don’t have to worry about the pressures of publishing and selling something for profit, so the fact that racism and graphic violence against children are not easily marketable features doesn’t affect my decision to include it in my story.

For the Empire

I couldn’t use this card to title the chapter and then not include this type of scene for Caleb. I felt this was an appropriate chapter to do it because of the holiday and it was a good point in his arc to address his backstory in a brutally honest lens.

I understand why a lot of fanon about Caleb focuses on forgiveness, and I am on the side that Caleb knows he can never be forgiven by the people that matter: the people he killed and everyone who hurt because of what he did. The Volstrucker were very clearly and intentionally based on the German Schutzstaffel. I respect Liam O’Brien a lot for choosing that sort of backstory and wrestling with how that sort of person can be a protagonist in this sort of game and what end they will meet.

This scene lays bare what Caleb did when he was a child. He was manipulated and abused by someone he respected. He felt that he was doing the right thing because his concept of “good” was intentionally molded into something useful for Trent Ikithon. But Caleb chose to kill. Being respected, powerful, and successful was more important to him than other people’s lives. He made that choice over and over and over.

I felt that was a far more compelling commonality that Caleb had with Lucien than any of the other similarities. That’s why I put these scenes back to back.

An overarching theme is going to come up again and again: Anyone would do this. Anyone would if they were desperate enough. If they were cold enough, hungry enough, scared enough, lonely enough. Anyone would do horrible things with enough pressure. It’s just a matter of finding out what kind and how much. It’s just being a person.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a good Caleb scene if a monkey wrench didn’t get thrown in, so here comes Molly to flirt. That said, Caleb is absolutely not far enough in his arc for this to lead to anything, so he takes a turn for more sincere and deep emotions, which Molly was not prepared for. That said, Molly didn’t seem like the type to pine, especially since he’s been remaining intentionally ignorant of why Caleb’s on his mind a lot, so it doesn’t sour anything between them. They are singing entirely different tunes right now, they can’t make a melody.

Darktow

Ashley wasn’t there for this scene, so I wanted to fill in Yasha’s perspective since we didn’t really get any for that episode. Considering that the Dynasty hosts some of the more “monstrous” races, I figured she could know a little to give exposition, though she didn’t realize Wyatt was wearing a wig.

In addition, right now, Yasha is my only useful tool for getting Molly to address his dreams, so she is doing some heavy work. She’s got some of her stuff for her arc coming up, though, so she’ll get to have some spotlight in time.

Con Men

In the stream, the Nein did realize that they probably shouldn’t be the ones to turn in Avantika’s journal—after they stole it. They had quite a few leads to get help, but since they’d taken the journal in the middle of the night, they didn’t have any time to investigate those before the confrontation in the morning.

I thought that would be a fun thing to explore without derailing too bad. :)

I figured it would be reasonable for Molly to instigate that issue coming up earlier in the same evening after his experiences with Gustav. Thus, the Nein modified their plan a little bit to match, and now there’s a chance to see another way this all could have played out.

#TF&TS #TF&TS meta #chapter commentary

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just-horrible-things · 2 years

Text

'Verse: Resistance Story: Unlikely Salvation, credit to co-author @whump-sprite Timeline: Arc 0

The current makes the warlock’s body arc and his limbs pull against the cuffs. He wails and – when she flicks it off again – sobs, but he doesn't beg.

It's not defiance. There are no hard edges left in the panicked look he casts her way – before she switches it on again and his eyes screw shut as his face contorts with pain.

"Don't know," he gasps when she lets him rest again, although she hasn't asked a question.

Ariadne counts the seconds in her head, watching his chest heave. Thirty, and she makes his spine arc again. Ribs jut brutally beneath bruise-mottled skin. Blood drips from his back where repeated convulsions have rubbed the whip marks against the chair.

The cycle repeats. Five shocks with just thirty seconds between, then a longer rest, then five again. Inch by inch she watches Morgen’s resigned misery erode under the steady pressure of repeated pain. Inch by inch he crumbles, until raw panic starts to well up through the cracks. His bloodshot eyes dart uselessly around the room. His mouth twitches and twists – Ari can see him wrestle with the decision of when to beg her.

It's not defiance that makes him hold off. He's learned, he's paid attention to her responses, and he's decided that it won't help him if he tries it too early in the day.

Ari didn't expect that degree of strategy from him, but she's only too happy to encourage it. He's bargaining with her. He believes that if he plays his cards right, he can earn mercy. That's exactly what she wants.

So today when he gives in and finally lets himself plead "please, 'terr’gatr – sir –!" she waits, hand hovering over the controls. "Please –" he repeats "-- can't – breathe –" "You can't talk to me if you can't breathe," she agrees coolly, leaving the controls alone to hook her thumb through her belt instead.

Alex slumps, leaning forwards against the cuffs that keep his wrists behind him. He pants shallow, choppy breaths that shake his whole body. Muscles twitch erratically up and down the curve of his back, visible even beneath the layers of scabbing.

Ariadne gives him a hundred and twenty seconds.

"Then again," she muses, "you weren't talking to me anyway." "No –" Morgen gasps, head snapping up "-- please –" His gaze flicks from her face to her hands, to the little box that controls the shocks, and back to her face. Ariadne doesn't move. "You – didn' ask anything –" he observes in desperation.

Now that is most definitely a step in the right direction. Ariadne doesn't let herself smile.

"Let's talk about you,” she suggests. ��What you do.” “... m’a healer,” he answers uncertainly. Frightened confusion knits his sweat-streaked brow. He’s looking for the trap. “I heal people.” “For the Resistance.” He’s too scared to try to deny it, but he doesn’t answer. Ariadne shifts and lets him flinch in anticipation of another shock, but she only tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and returns her hand to her belt.

“Tell me about the people you heal.” More silence. Irritation itches in Ariadne’s fingertips, but she pushes it aside. They’re making progress. “You keep telling me that no one tells you anything, but even if that’s true, we know for a fact you heal Resistance warlocks. You could tell me about them. You know Anders Reyan – I know you do, you’ve been seen with him. You ever heal him?”

She’s quite sure that the answer is yes.

Alex opens his mouth, and stops. Wide eyes go a little wider, then narrow. Ariadne can practically see the gears trying to turn, sticking and grinding on the pain that clouds every thought. He holds her gaze like his life depends on it, even as twitches continue to wrack his body.

“It’s a simple question,” Ariadne prompts. Her hand moves, slowly and deliberately, towards the switch that controls the shocks. “He doesn’t let me,” Alex blurts out, all at once like it’s a desperate gamble. “I mean, I, I have. Healed him. Just, mostly h-he doesn’t let me.” “Mm?” Ariadne prompts, and when that isn’t enough, “Go on.” “He’s… proud,” Morgen explains breathlessly. “He… d-doesn’t like needing help, he doesn’t let me.” Ariadne nods, suppressing a smile, and rewards Alex by stepping away.

She leaves the control box behind on the table and takes herself out of arm’s reach to settle against the edge of the workbench at the side of the room. Alex’s shoulders slump with relief and he takes deeper breaths.

When he looks up, it’s with a fraction less terror. His tongue is red with blood as he tries to wet his cracked lips. He looks like he wants to say something more, so Ariadne waits.

And it pays off.

“He… doesn’t want me to use too much magic,” Morgen tells her. “He cares about me. That’s what he’s like. You think he’s a monster, but he’s not.” “Mh. He has you heal other people, though.” “I want to,” Morgen argues instantly, “they don’t make…” His voice falters and fails as he realises what he’s saying, what he’s admitting to. His face is stricken as he falls silent.

If it was a confession Ariadne was looking for, she’d press the advantage. But Morgen’s loyalties were never in question. She wants to encourage this kind of openness, not punish it.

“So Reyan doesn’t let you heal him,” she affirms. “Tell me about someone that isn’t Reyan, then. Who else have you healed?” A stronger shudder tears through Morgen’s body and he grits his teeth against what must be cramping muscles. Ariadne lets him have almost twenty seconds. “I’m waiting,” she reminds him when she sees him start to breathe again. “Give me some names.” “They’re – kids,” he says hopelessly, “I-I heal a lot of kids, you’ll hurt them –” “Not only kids, surely,” Ari counters. “You don’t have to tell me about the kids.” Morgen lifts his head, frowning with surprised distrust. “You heal Resistance soldiers when they get injured. Tell me about one of them. Just one, and we’ll stop for today, how does that sound?”

Alex’s throat bobs as he swallows.

“My sister.”

There’s a spark in his eyes as he says it. He knows he’s being unhelpful.

A part of Ariadne itches to stamp out that spark. But it isn’t difficult to swallow the impulse. This conversation is still going well. If he sees this as a small defiance, it means he’s not paying attention to the concessions he’s made to get here.

“Of course,” she agrees mildly.

Alex doesn’t expect her to let him rest. The anticipation of more pain is written in every tense, trembling line of his body. He expects to be punished for his tiny defiance.

“Taryn lets you heal her, then. She’s not worried about your magic?” The warlock just stares at her. “When I ask you a question,” she reminds him, “I expect a response.” “Yes sir,” he mumbles sullenly, dropping his gaze. Ariadne taps her foot. “She… she does worry,” Alex answers reluctantly.

He doesn’t volunteer any further explanation, and Ariadne resolves to come back to the topic later. Consolidating today’s lesson is more pressing.

“Would you like to eat today, warlock?” “No,” he snips with prompt stubbornness, but immediately flinches and – perhaps seeing her disapproval before she’s even decided how to respond – appends a nervous “sir.” “No?” “Not i-if I have to answer more questions. Sir.” “Suit yourself,” Ariadne sighs. “The offer is on the table.”

Morgen positively cringes when she straightens up to approach him. He shakes harder, struggling to cling to the shreds of his defiance in the face of another round of torture.

“Easy,” Ari tells him firmly as she begins to peel the electrodes off his skin. There are burns beneath them, and he gasps a little as each one comes away. “We’re done for today, like I promised. I keep telling you : I can be reasonable if you’ll just talk to me.”

He doesn’t believe her. He isn’t brave enough to say so, but he doesn’t have to. She can see it in his eyes. He’s smart enough to understand what she’s trying to do.

But the thing is, he’ll learn anyway. Even if he understands perfectly, he won’t be able to help it. It’s only natural.

“Th-thank you, interrogator.” He sounds uncertain, and he swallows hard.

He’s a natural, really. He’s already trying to appease her, she just has to redirect that into useful contributions.

She keeps a firm grip on each ankle as she unlocks the cuffs. Morgen’s no fighter, and he probably can’t exert any force right now even if he wanted to, but you only have to get kicked in the teeth once to learn that lesson for life.

His wrists she’s less careful with. She doesn’t bother to ask if he can walk, she can see quite plainly that he can’t.

She could call a guard in here to move him, maintain a degree of aloofness… but it’s not worth making someone come over here. It doesn’t do any harm for Morgen to see that she can do her own grunt work if she wants to.

So she hauls him up by the arms – eliciting a half-stifled groan of pain – and tosses him across her shoulders to take him back to his cell.

#my writing #verse: resistance #unlikely salvation #ariadne milonas #alex morgen #ariadne is not a nice person

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ducknotinarow · 5 months

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[MM Rasey] "Yeah yeah, they're fake - can't believe ya didn't notice that b'fore."

Casey merely grins up at them, having let Raph feel over the plastic that held onto his ears. He neglected to tell the store of his mum's massive freak out over the real piercing through his eyebrow. Instead, he takes attention to the fact Raph's hands were on his face,

"Why'd ya do that anyway?" Casey asks, "Hol' my face? Aint complainin', just, yanno, curious?"

| muse interaction

Raphael was slightly aware there were many kinds of hockey. Ice, and field for examples. But he didn't know much about it till Casey was something in his life. Casey clearly loved the sport. The hockey stick pins on his hat were proof enough of that fact. Not to mention how much Casey was either on the ice by himself to practice or him, and Raph would play street hockey in the park together over the weekend sometimes as well. Just cause Raphael dropped from the hockey team in favor of the wrestling team didn't mean he couldn't still get some enjoyment out of the spot.

Besides, any time he spent with Casey was just guaranteed to be good. Honestly the only really thing that changed when they did become an official thing? Was that they stop the bull shitting that there wasn't anything romantic between them. They texted any time they weren't together. Which was pretty rare when they weren't together. Like now as they were having a one on one game between them. The air was cool, and the sky was covered in a thick grey blanket sky. Leaves were changing from green to shades of red, yellow and orange. But all Raph really was focused on? His boyfriend. Mostly because he was trying to land another goal. "Goin' down 'his time Jones!" Raphael called out full of confidence, that Casey didn't seem to share. "Tell ya want when I hand ya ass to ya? I'll allow ya to take me out an' treat me to lunch." He smirks as he get ready to take his shot now.

They just been mostly taking turns blocking and take shots at the moment as Raphael went to take what was meant to be the perfect shot. When the puck they were using slipped under his skate clearing under the wheel and catching. Sending Raphael forward luckily for the turtle into Casey. Unlucky for Casey, the collision was enough to send Casey to land on his back. "fuck" was all Raphael remarked as he let himself lay on top of Casey. He was pretty sure sending Casey into the goal didn't count. Moving to lift himself up a bit and take a second to check on Casey. He knew they could take a hit but still Raph was like a small tank and he didn't want to hurt his boyfriend even if it was just an honest accident on his part. Least Casey was smart enough to catch himself. Arms resting back on to the ground having take the bunt of the fall.

Raphael's hand's found the cool ground, as he pushed himself up. Trying his best to will away the need to blush over how they landed. All well expecting some comments about how bad he just ate it. More than ready to roll his eyes and ignore them when his eyes seemed to fall on to a small little piece of metal, well seemingly metal piece on the ground not far from Casey's head. Brow arched as he reached over to grab for it shifting slightly so he could rest on to one of his elbows. Of course he recognized it right away as one of the many earrings that Casey's ear was covered in. It was one of the bands that hugged on to the helix of Casey's left ear.

"Sorry didn' mean to knock ya over 'hat hard." Or at all really. Raphael sort of turned it around in between his fingers. Surprised it came out so easily? "Don' they punch holes into ya ear so they stick?" It was a genuine question on the turtle's part.

Looking at it he couldn't seen any kind of needle? He quirked his beak slightly it was just a small little band? Like a cuff. As he looked back towards Casey's ear. His attention shifting made him sort of forget about how they were even allowing his weight to press down on to Casey a moment. As he held the little cuff up towards Casey ear. As if small pieces to a puzzle were slotting into place he seemed to figure it out at last "Wait these are fake?"

Raphael finally speaks up as he slightly smiles over the finding which seems enough to clue Casey into where his line of thought had started to go. A lot of people talked about Casey being the guy with all the pricings after all. Guess they found them off putting in a sense? Something about all the pricings and spiked collar seemed to make them think Casey was someone steer clear from. Honestly Raph still found it odd just how many thing seemed to make humans different among themselves even. Slightly feeling over the curve of Casey's ear a moment, trying to figure out how exactly this went on?

"Uh so much for 'hat bad boy image of yas uh?" Raph slightly teases over since he knew Casey's secret now. He set one finger behind the back of Casey's ear and did his best to slip it back on for them. It took a few second but he seemed to get the idea once the cartilage seemed to get in between the curve of the band. All a slow and thought out movement. He knew there was no bones in Casey ear but he was still careful unsure if he got it on right as he ran his finger tip over the edge of it just to make sure it was in place.

"Yeah yeah, they're fake - can't believe ya didn't notice that b'fore."

"Yeah well I don' exactly make a habit of touchin' ya ears dork" Raph retorts, once he was sure it was secure he did move his hand away and turned to look at Casey better. "How am I meant to know ya earring's are 'bout as fake as the rest of youes?" It was all clearly said in the usual teasing tone of Raphael's. Soft with a hint of pure fondness for the boy below him. As he reached over and slightly felt over the one on their brow. "eh least ones real ya poser."

Slowly letting his weight settle on top of their own. Smiling down at them, their beanie had flown off his head leaving those long dark locks of hair to sprawl out from under Casey. Raph lifting his hand to brush their bangs over a little and get it out from their eyes. Leaving the turtle to stare into Blue grey eyes. Like storm clouds over the sea. Such a soft and muted color. That the blue in Casey hair seemed to draw out the blue from. How red Casey's cheeks and the tip of their nose looked from being out in the cold air. Even if part of the redding was more because he had Raph on top of him again right now. Just sort of looking over them, Raphael couldn't understand how Casey could come off as 'scary' or whatever he was aiming for. All the small cuts on his lips, were no different then the freckles. Little stars that seemed to decorate Casey's face. Like there was no end of them on their skin. The turtle might not have a habit of touching their ears but he did have another.

Raphael doesn't even remember when his hands found their way on to Casey's cheeks, gently cupping them in his palms. His hold was soft and gentle. Lost at what he was looking at, a small out of character moment from the usual loud and brash mutant. Yeah he really doesn't know how anyone can look at Casey and think to stay away. Maybe Raph just liked all these so called 'Warning signs' that Casey wore like decorations. More then ready to lean down and press a kiss to their face but whatever had taken over him seemed to break the moment Casey spoke up.

"Why'd ya do that anyway?"

"Do what?" Raph asks in turn

"Hol' my face? Aint complainin', just, yanno, curious?"

The realization of what he was doing hit the turtle hard, and left his face burning red hot as he only now seemed aware of what his hands were doing. A brief moment of panic had his eyes grow wide, slightly scrambling off of Casey. It was like a sudden flick of a fight or flight taking over him leaving his heart to kick up like it was ready to help him mad dash out of this. Instead he just moved off to the side to sit down on the cold concrete under his jeans. Finding a small like glittery spot to focus his attention on instead. "Its..a turtle thing." He at least offers.

Peering over towards them he can see that might not be enough for Casey to take. "It's uh a thing turtles do when?" he tries to think he can't call Casey his mate that be weird even if that is why hes doing it? Sure school may cover all these growing a changing shit for humans but it doesn't help when you not human. It was always just a pure instinctual act for him. "It's uh somethin' we do when we find some one we're attracted to." Fuck no that's somehow worse! Even if it was true. But how is Raph meant to explain he thinks Casey as his mate? That's weird he can't say that. Man this sucks he dose manage to lift his arm up and slightly sets his hand on to Casey's face. So aware how nice the curve of their cheeks just seems to perfectly fit. Working his eyes to look back at Casey who still seems curious about it.

"When I do 'his, it jus' means ya special to me. Which ya are ya know?" It wasn't really Raph to be this, he felt oddly naked in this moment. Which he couldn't explain in the slightest. Raph wasn't much on physical touches. Sure he punched to show his own brand of affection, he was used to be rough. That was just who he was, so being gentle like this? "Ya real special to me Case, I love you. An' well it why I do it" Settled and not as spooked by it himself he twists to face them and again his hands are holding Casey's face. Despite the cuts across his skin, the spiked collar and pricing both the real one on his eyes brow and the fake ones on his ears his hold was gentle as if Casey was made of glass and might shattered. That was a weird thought to hold for someone like Casey wasn't it? Leaning in slowly his beak soon slots into place against Casey's lips. Breaking it after a second of warmth seeped into him angling Casey's head forward so their forehead met his own.

"An' 'hat makes ya special to me." Because Raph never been or felt this sort of love before but with Casey? It happened all at once.

#muse| hamato raphael #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ if you jumped off a bridge its only cause I did first -aflockoffeathers]#[mayhem verse]#muse interaction #ic reply #stay queued #((since Casey always wishing for Raph to drop some of he guard uwu))

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kacchanrawr · 3 years

Text

Random MHA opinions nobody asked for:

(I just wanted to make a list to get them out of my head)

The Endeavor vs Dabi discourse is really dumb. Neither of them are in the right, so the fights turn out to be an argument of ‘who’s less bad’

Characters like Hawks, Dabi and Endeavor aren’t supposed to be placed in a box of right or wrong

Having mixed feelings about Hawks killing Twice is exactly the point

While there’s a lot of stuff you can dislike about Endeavor, you can’t lie and say he’s incompetent

While the female cast is good, they still don’t get as much screen time and development as the male cast.

Batman Deku is the dumbest take ever

No one can be the main character of MHA other than Deku. Wanting anyone else for the MC just says you want a completely different story and MHA isn’t for you

Mina has a greater impact on Kirishima’s life than anyone else in the cast

Kacchako isn’t a bad ship, but is very underdeveloped and lacking in content to back up all these ‘narrative foils’ stuff. (And the lack of emphasis on those frustrates me and still make me dislike it)

Sometimes authors forget to write a girl as a good friend before a love interest. That applies to Ochako too, sometimes

"Uraraka isn't bad written, just underutilized" is a weak argument because underutilization IS bad writing

Eraserjoke is just het Erasermic with less chemistry and depth

Deku and Ochako are too similar to each other. There has to be more contrast, more parallels, more interactions outside of hero work or group situations for me to like them

That being said, Togachako is the best Ochako ship. Also maybe partly because my expectations for number of interactions is much lower when a ship isn’t hinted to be endgame

Same point as Izuocha, Kirideku doesn’t work for me. Sunshine x sunshine is way too much

But evil x evil, pretty x pretty, and idiot x idiot work. Idk why, but that’s probably why I like Shigadabi, Todomomo and Kirikami

Iida is a good character y’all are just mean

Stain’s ideology isn’t right. There are people who want to make money like and can still be selfless, like Ochako. Killing a fake hero isn’t the right way. People can change, like how Mt. Lady went from a hero that only wanted fame and money to wrestling Gigantomachia

If Bakugo were a girl, a lot more people would ship bkdk. Not just because it’s het, but also because a female rival character who is also the deuteragonist in shonen is practically unheard of

I thought Kiribaku and Bakudeku would be sister ships because krbks and bkdks both ship Bakugo with a sunshine character that can understand that asshole, and love his character development. I guess this isn’t about Bakugo

All Might is a good mentor character. Saying he’s a bad character is like saying Shigaraki’s a bad villain. Them starting out as a bad mentor/villain is the point. Also, it’s good to see a mentor that isn’t a know-it-all an has space to grow alonside the MC

Bakugo is the underdog among the Big Three. Deku is the chosen one, Shoto was born the number two hero’s son. Bakugo only had a strong quirk and great combat abilities, which is great when comparing it to everyone else, but isn’t really much when comparing him to Deku and Shoto

Gran Torino should have died. There’s really no reason for him to still be alive

Kaminari is not the same as Mineta. I’m not saying this because I hate Mineta, they really just aren’t

Mineta does have a redeeming trait or two, but that’s nowhere near enough for Mineta stans to tell people to stop hating him. Tho I do think Mineta slander is getting old

Deku having six more quirks is not an asspull

Bakucamie is a good ship, I love their dynamic and find them hilarious, but I hate it whenever someone only ships them for the sake of making the ship set all straight

The Joint Training Arc being good or bad is subjective. It depends how invested you are in these characters. I read JTA on 2018 for the sake of binging the manga right after watching the anime, and I found it boring. I didn’t get to actually take a break and get used to most of the students. Rereading it on 2021, I really enjoy that arc

The Mirio return sucked. Too crowded, too many reveals at once. It could’ve been saved for later (I do have this theory that maybe Hori returned Mirio now so that the stockpile for Eri’s quirk would be empty. So maybe she will be able to heal Deku, but Deku will have to be armless for an arc of two. But still think it sucks)

Dabi is a crazy ass motherfucker and it’s okay to like him for that. Dabi stans who’ve had their soft Dabi hcs disproven and try to make him sound soft, shut up. Him being a really cool villain and a murderer is what makes him a good character

Momo is a better leader than Iida in terms of... leading? Iida’s just better at maintaining order

Saying ‘character development doesn’t matter’ when calling characters like Bakugo or Endeavor bad characters is an opinion, not a fact. Character development does matter, and is one of the most important elements of an ongoing manga

The school festival arc was not a waste of time. It is shown in that arc that heroes can and should be able to save people’s hearts. That point is brought up when the LOV’s backstories where revealed in the MVA arc

Y’all have to stop simping over every new character revealed. They aren’t even that hot

Dynamight is a good hero name. It really suits Bakugo, corny and over the top with the Great Explosion Murder God

Shoto is not a sass god. He’s just genuinely aloof and dense. He’s unintentionally funny, and that’s what makes him so great

MHA should not end with all the straight ships getting together and having kids. As much as I like most of the ships, that’s probably the worst kind of ending

Summing Bakugo and Deku’s relationship to bully and victim is incredibly shallow and insulting, to Hori’s writing, Bakugo’s character development, and Deku

Shinso and Monoma’s chaotic energy is the best part about the 5th match of JTA

There’s no way Bakugo Katsuki is straight

Shinkami has more to it than just Kaminari calling Shinso hot

‘All Might should’ve died in Kamino’ is a dumb take. Some of y’all really just want some kind of ‘serious setback’ for Deku without considering how All Might not dying at that time and dying much later can be way better for the plot as a whole

Most ‘(character) has an underrated quirk’ takes are dumb. There was some theory that Ochako should be the most powerful character because she can manipulate time or space (I honestly don’t remember what. Just some physics shit), and that was dumb. Do y’all just forget that the scale of the power and a person’s limits matter in determining how powerful a character is?

Might+U playing in the background of the Bakugo and Deku vs Nine fight was good. No, it shouldn’t be hype music.

Calling Hawks an abuse apologist, especially at this point of the story, is incredibly dumb

The dub has tendencies of mischaracterizing some characters. While they don’t affect the overall plot, they can affect a person’s view of these characters.

I know y’all wanna hype Aizawa up, but saying “technically he’s the most powerful because all his quirk does is lower the playing field!” is dumb. All it does? As if lowering the playing field doesn’t do much? Taking away the quirk is already a huge deal. Saying that he’s powerful because the quirk is powerful feels more accurate.

Bakugo and Momo’s gifted child syndrome/inferiority complex (idk if my terms are right) aren’t shallow and just lame character tropes. They mean a lot if you can relate to them. The same way with Ochako. People who can’t relate to wanting to earn money to help your parents can’t relate to her or like her. (Tbh I can’t cuz where I live filial piety is just everywhere? There’s nothing special or emotional about giving your parents money so that they can live easy lives when they get old. It’s practically duty. But I get why people like her and relate to her)

Dabihawks vs Endhawks is also dumb af. They’re both ‘problematic’, and that’s perfectly fine. One of them’s an age gap ship (technically legal but still uncomfortable), one of them’s an enemy lovers ship (not enemies to lovers. They’re both at the same time) that have tried to kill each other

Society falling apart after the war was predictable. It's the smaller specific details that make it interesting. And the emotions of grief and despair shown in pages.

Okay I’m out of shit to say.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #mha unpopular opinions #well not really soo #mha opinions #idk why I even did this?#bakudeku #midoriya izuku #deku #katsuki bakugo #kacchan #endeavor #endeavor and hawks #dabi my hero academia #why are people still liking this #please stop this is old and a couple of my takes on this have changed

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alistair-phoenix · 3 years

Text

Prompt #8: Adroit

Tales of the Wayfaring Mage

Dwarves

Depending on who you ask, you will either have a positive or negative response. Loud drunks with rocks for brains or brilliant metalworkers with hearts of gold and livers of steel.

But after a hard day's work, they settle down over a pint... or keg. A sort of experience of camaraderie you wouldn't find anywhere else. Anyone that has either fought or worked alongside dwarves are treated like brothers and sisters of their own.

Arm wrestling matches were a favorite pastime for the miners. Most strength tests were. That and drinking. ---

Another day had passed for the mining crew and it was time to relax until next time. A small group of dwarves approached their Bar in the Wall with an amber-eyed human in tow.

“Not bad fer a gangly beanstalk's first month down 'ere.” One dwarf with red beard elbowed the human's side. “Didn' hafta pick up any slack in th' last week. Progress!”

Another dwarf that had a blonde beard laughed, “Aye, an now e's got sum meat on 'is bones. Ain't no beanstalk no more.”

A dwarf with a brown beard shook his head, “Nope, e's more a, cornstalk now, aye? Aye?”

The group as well as the human laughed as they approached a table.

“I tell ya what, son, ye certainly surprised me.” The black bearded dwarf smirked at the human. “A whole lot o' us didn't think ye'd last down 'ere. Goin’ back t' yer namby pamby nobleman's life from dust in yer eyes.”

“Surprised th' lot o' us.”

“Sure did.”

“Who'd 'ave thunk!”

The human smiled at the dwarves and their words. “We are most glad that we were able to exceed expectations.”

All of the dwarves looked at each other and snorted at the response, one even thumbing to the human, and all with smirks on their faces.

“Now if only ya'd drop th' fancy talk.” The red-bearded dwarf smacked the table with his hand before turning to the barmaids. “Need a couple mugs o' ale 'ere!”

“Please.” The human quickly added afterwards, which got a laugh out of the other dwarves.

“Least one o' yas got some manners.” The dwarven barmaid teased before turning to the taps.

Once the dwarven miners pulled up a chair, the blonde-bearded dwarf turned to Alistair. “Alright, lad. This time, yer gonna drink like th' rest o' us.”

“Pardon?” The amber-eyed man questioned as he sat down in a chair that was slightly out of spec with his size.

“Ye heard 'im, lad! Drink with yer brothers!” The brown-bearded dwarf answered. “After all yer hard work, why wouldn't ye?”

“Well...” The human had trouble trying to gather his thoughts.

“Don't even try t' talk yer way out of it.” The black-bearded dwarf interrupted. “Ye've been flakin' out on drinkin' with th' guys since ya first got here. Ye only drink one mug! Not nearly enuff.” He smacked the table with his fist. “Ye even miss out on arm wrestlin', too! Can't 'ave that either! Yer workin' with us!”

“But... you are stronger than us.” The defeatist human tried to excuse himself.

“That's quitters talk!”

“Milksop!”

“Come off it!”

The dwarves continued to poke fun at the human until the red-bearded dwarf smacked the table one more time. “Alright, lads, let's not give th' nobleman a hard time. He's obviously above our cultural traditions. Let 'im sit it out.”

This comment did not go unnoticed by the only human at the table. Such words stirred within his heart and mind, irritating him the more he sat on it.

“Alright, lads, ale's 'ere!” The barmaid approached with a serving tray held aloft, cutting off any more jabs at the human patron.

With a loud cheer, the group tended to their mugs with fervor as though it would be the last mug they would drink in a while. Meanwhile, the human watched his consumption as well as plotting something in the back of his mind.

---

After everyone had been through 3 mugs of ale, the revelry truly began. A couple of them started singing songs with others clapping along. More dwarves had even started showing up to join in after work. Soon there were dwarves dancing about and arm wrestling matches all around. The place was filled with merriment and joy.

“Say, boy!” The red-bearded dwarf from earlier approached the human, sitting across from him. “Come on. Ya gotta, do it.” He placed his elbow on the table and raised his arm along with his brow. “Come on! Show me what ya got!”

Some of the other dwarves nearby tugged and shoved the man around in a light roughhousing manner.

“Come on!”

“Do it! Do it! do it!”

“Give it a shot!”

The human sighed and squared up, putting his elbow on the table. “Fine. I can try.” He lifted his arm and he gripped the dwarf's hand.

The spectating dwarves cheered, some even laughed as though already expecting a certain result. Another dwarf placed his hand over the competitor's hands and looked between the two.

“Ready!?” He looked between the two.

Both the dwarf and human competing tightened their muscles, waiting for the moment to start.

“Go!”

The dwarf and human both started pushing against the other either with all or some of their strength. The dwarf did not appear to be using much of their own muscle to hold the human back. In fact, once he found out how much stronger, he decided to get cocky.

He let the human struggle to push his hand to one side only for him to push back to center. He was just going to mess with the human a bit before he could snatch his clear victory.

“Oh, so close.” The dwarf taunted before pushing back and slowly being pushed against. “Oh no, I think... I lost me strength.” He stopped his arm just half way. “I think I could use some more ale.”

The human struggled but never gave up trying in spite of everything. They were a part of the spectacle and he was the fool. But... he would be a fool no longer.

Suddenly the dwarf found his eyes watering up, an urge was rising within him. It felt like something was rubbing against his eye. He wanted to dig it out but he was still stuck in his arm wrestling match. He couldn't afford to rub his eye now!

Within that instant, the human swiftly pushed their hand down, the back of the dwarf's hand met the table.

Silence reigned around the table.

…

“Did we win?” The human asked as he slowly released his opponent's hand, dumbstruck as everyone else.

A loud cheer erupted all around them. Several of the dwarves were shoving the human around and giving rough pats on the back.

“Got somethin' in me eye...” The red-bearded opponent raised his hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “I think? But yeah, ya won. But don't let it go t’ yer head!”

The amber-eyed man laughed and waved his hand dismissively. “Promise not to.” However, he did not have the heart to tell him he cheated a bit. He had magically accumulated dust as well as dirt and gradually pushed them into the dwarf's eyes.

However, once that match was over, more dwarves wanted to challenge the human that bested a dwarf in arm wrestling.

The boy needed to figure out new clever methods and quickly...

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #FFXIV #ffxiv balmung #Alistair Phoenix #Otherworldly Lore #[Before Arrival]

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mariamermaid · 4 years

Text

All the good girls go to hell

Caliban x fem Reader

Summary: Going after a witch, that follows dark blood bathing rituals, you met a certain prince of hell…

Does not really follow the plot of season 3!

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: drinking, mentions of death and blood

Paris.

The unannounced city of love was filled with void. There was a dangerous witch on the loose and you were right on her track. Unlike many of your friends, who enjoyed the casual safety of a coven, you were an eclectic witch. You had your very own, individual approach at magick and yet, you were widely known beyond the horizons of the gods. And sometimes, they would seek your help in cases that blurred the borders of heaven and hell. Bridged Bishop left you a legacy, she was the first witch from the Salem trials and she was hung at the Gallows Hill in Salem Town. And like so often in the curses of history, there was something seething.

Her name was Serena Westwood and she had begun to perform several blood-bathing rituals in order to become more powerful herself. It was going against many witch rules and humans were starting to become warry as well. For now, she had killed six witches and eight humans, all of them very specifically chosen. You recognized the pattern, which was why you found yourself at a lingering club within the dusty streets of Paris.

My Lucifer is lonely

Standing there, killing time

Can´t commit to anything but a crime

Your friend, Ambrose, had helped you with the research and he warned you about the recent events of hell. However, you hadn´t expect hell to bring up their own player to the game. But when you caught eye of the tall blonde leaning against a wall in the club, you immediately knew something was up. Turning away, so he wouldn´t be able to see your face right through the crowd, you pulled out your compass. The dark compass was a present, Lilith had given it to you in her earlier days and it was still of good use. The needle spun around a few times, until it landed on the red “H” at the bottom, where usually the south corner laid. H like in hell. The compass showed you the path the witch of warlock was following and the closer it got to the extremes of heaven or hell, the more alerted you were. You decided to put the compass away and searched the crowd again, but the attractive blonde was gone.

“Looking for me?” He was leaning against the bar top, a few golden locks falling over his eyes. He had an angular face with deep, glistening eyes and a devilish smirk. “Do I know you?” You asked interested and sat down at the stool. He continued to grin, but shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“What can I get you to drink?” He asked instead and gave the bartender a wink. “Gin Tonic.” He nodded. “And a whisky”, he added for himself. “What is your name?”

“Scott.” You leaned closer to him, quickly and fluent, you knew the game all too well. “You´re lying, Scott.” He let out a rough laugh, the drinks came and he took a large sip. “What is your name?” You leaned back again and watched his eyes waiting.

“You´re not stupid, Scott. You already know my name.” Loud screams interrupted your conversation and you let the drink wait, instead running through the crowd. In the middle laid a man´s body, eyes wide open, his heart not beating anymore. His shirt was ripped open and several symbols were craved into his skin. You leaned down and your fingers brushed against the still fresh blood. The crowd had begun to circle the corpse, you looked up to find a door in the very back closing. Serena.

Hurrying after her in the dark streets, you found yourself close to the La Seine. She struggled trying to pull her body up the railing, seeming weakened after her bloody voodoo ritual; your chance. You ran after her. “Serena!” Your voice echoed in the dark alley leading to the river. She lurked back and threw a spell into your direction. You jumped in order to avoid getting hit. Only a few feet were left between her and you and with a big leap, you felt your hands grabbing her. She didn´t expect you and lost balance, making you both fall into the freezing water of the Seine. Surprised by the sudden fall, you both wrestled under water until she fired a spell at you. It was dark as night underwater; you barely could see anything but the light glistening from above. The fire spell she used enlightened the water, then you felt a burning sting at your shoulder. The fire had burned you and threw you back against some kind of wall or metal pillar, you lost orientation. Blinking heavily, you eyed the water around you, but Serena was gone. She had used a fire spell to distract you. You let out a scream, last supplies of air left your lunges and gasping for more, you swam back to the surface. It wasn´t necessary to mention how frustrated you were. Your shoulder continued to burn, which made it hard to even move with your entire left side. Luckily, your right hand was able to hold onto some kind of lug. Then two other strong hands grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the water.

You found yourself on the ground. “Y/n are you okay?” You almost flinched when you heard his low voice murder your name. “Nice for you to show up, Scott”, you gave back and rolled your eyes. He was knelled next to you, eyeing the wound, but after your failed hunt down, you weren´t specifically in the mood. “Let me help you” He added and softly touched your right arm, but you jerked away. “Help me? You could´ve helped me five minute ago, before I almost drowned.” His piercing blue eyes blinked, but he waited until you stood in front of him again. He wasn´t used to being treated like a mortal. You huffed when looking down at him, he avoided your glance and starred at the ground, knowing it was your right to be pissed.

“Caliban.” You stopped in the middle of the streets and slowly turned back to him. He was still kneeling, where you had sat seconds ago. “What?” It felt like a cold wind howling down your spine. “My name is Caliban-“

“Prince of Hell.” He looked up to find you already starring at him.

Peter´s on vacation, an open invitation

Animals, evidence

Pearly Gates look more like a picket fence

Once you get inside´em

Got friends but can´t invite them

You decided to go back to the hotel room you had booked. Money was never a problem for you; you had come from a rich family and being a powerful witch also helped. The room was big, with high ceilings and a stunning view over the nightly city. Baroque details lingered at the edges of wall and ceiling and long curtains moved within the wind from an open window. The large bed had beige covers and golden side lamps. The couch was red satin.

Caliban had followed you, arguably like a lost puppy. First you had guessed that he didn´t trust you enough to leave you alone. But as he watched you, you came to the realization, that he didn´t have a clue either. He was young to rule and didn´t have your experience. He wouldn´t admit it, but he needed your help. Your shoulder continued to burn and you hurried to the cabinet with expensive liquor. You poured yourself a glass of whisky and eyed Caliban, your eyes asking him. He nodded and you took out a second glass. You poured down the glass in one go, Caliban only sipped. After you had poured down a second one, you hazily walked into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind you. You took off the arrangement of dress you were wearing and in underwear, you examined the wound. Then you heard Caliban steps, until he entered the bathroom as well. He eyed you and drowned his glass as well, just to put it down on the edge of the tub. In the rather cold light of the bathroom, he looked more human. He had taken off his jacket and only wore a loose shirt. The tension not to mention here.

“Let me help you”, he explained and watched as you hesitated. “I´m good around fire.” Caliban added and stepped closer. You couldn´t help but let out a chuckle. You observed in the mirror how Caliban carefully brushed back last strands of your hair and eyed the wound. “Stay still”, he advised and then laid his hand onto the wound. You hissed but then a hot feeling spread. The wound slowly vanished and when his hand left your skin, it was feeling cold again. But you missed the feeling of his soft touch. You breathed out and turned towards him. “How…”

“I´m the prince of hell.”

You felt him leaning closer, but he was unsure. However, the second whisky was beginning to hit in and you pulled his collar down until your lips crashed together. His hands quickly grazed your hips until he lifted you off the ground. Your kiss deepened in the meantime and none of you seemed to be bothered by the fact, that Serena had gotten away anymore. He sat you down on the counter top of the sink and your fingers started fidgeting around the bottoms of his shirt. But then his hands stopped you. Abruptly, you pulled back and starred at him.

“Cal? Is something wrong?” You asked whispering, but his eyes remained close until he completely left your bodies touch. You didn´t know how his heart stopped when you called his nickname.

“I need to go back to hell”, he explained groaning. “Oh, sure”, you couldn´t help but sound a little disappointed. Caliban finally looked at you, his stunning eyes gazing at you. “Don´t worry, we´ll meet again.” His hand softly grabbed your neck and pulled you closer, giving you a last peck on the lips. You grinned.

“Sure, all the good girls go to hell.”

Hills burn in California

My turn to ignore ya

Don’t say I didn´t warn ya

You did meet again, however the circumstances had drastically changed. Serena had taken an entire coven hostage, after two more successful murders. It was a full moon light, obviously. You had to take her down before she could sacrifice them. Serena was hidden in a cave close to mountain where Walpurgis bonfires where often hosted. It wouldn´t be easy, but you had prepared several weeks, it was now or never.

The sun had begun to sink and it was time to leave. However, when you examined yourself in the mirror a last time, a certain wave of warmth was felt from behind. You caught a glimpse of flames hollering, when Caliban was suddenly stood in front of you. You let out a chuckle.

“Look at you, needing me.” He rolled his eyes, not admitting how right you were. Against the anticipation of hells most famous demons, he still had problems adjusting to his title. The easiest way for Caliban to find Serena, was to follow you. “How can I help you, my prince?”

He overheard the mocking tone of your voice, in which you hid your disappointment. After your meeting in Paris, you had hoped he would visit earlier.

“Thought you might want backup”, he paused. “You´ll want the devil on your team.”

You turned to him, stepping closer. Then, after eyeing him, checking if he meant it, you nodded. “All hail the king.” You whispered.

“You´d make a good queen.”

You ignored that comment and hoped that Caliban didn´t see you blush.

All the good girls go to hell

´cause even God herself has enemies

And once the water starts to rise

And heaven´s out of sight

She´ll want the devil on her team

Serena had found herself a cozy spot on the top of the mountain, a bonfire burning in the middle. The members of the coven were tied up around, high trees offering somewhat of protection. A high cliff at the back, where you could watch the moon rise. With Caliban following you, you eyed the circle and established a spot, where she couldn´t see you.

Serena had changed due to the blood rituals; her once human form was almost completely gone. Instead of her brown hair, black dreads framed her face and dark red veins covered her skin. Her eyes had a poisonous green and parts of her skin were ripped open, beneath lied a dark seething blood substance.

“What is she planning?” Caliban asked whispering. “Burn the witch”, you explained.

“It is to be said, if you burn a witch on a blood moon, you´ll receive her powers.” You added and watched how his eyes flickered. “How do we stop her?”

“She doesn´t know that we´re here, or that we work together. We have the surprise.”

“I´ll distract her”, Caliban started but you immediately denied. “No, I´m going to distract her. You free the coven.”

“But-“ “You´re reigning hell, you´re plan B. If I can´t stop her, you´ll do it.”

You wanted to sneak away in order to go closer to Serena, but Caliban held you back by grabbing your arm. “If you can´t stop her, she´ll kill you.”

You grinned and Caliban saw certainty in your eyes. “I´ll see you in hell then.”

You snuck up on her, trying to lure her away from the hostages.

“Serena!” Your screamed, while your voice echoed across the glade. Glancing at the rising moon, you knew that the time was running. “Missed me?”

She sighed and turned towards you, letting the hostages in her blind angle. “I thought I had gotten rid of you”, she explained with despite in her voice. “I´m not easy to get rid of.”

She nodded agreeing, in her fingers playing strings of dark magick. “Unlike this wannabe prince of hell.” “You met him?” She nodded half-heartily.

“I wanted to see who sat on my throne.”

“You´re not capable of ruling hell.”

“Watch me!” You knew that each of your statements provoked her and it was finally enough to get her to attack. The first spells she threw at you were nothing, you either dodged or blocked them. “With that you want to rule?” You yelled laughing.

She grew angry, you knew it. Getting closer to her, you noticed that with each spell, a small spark of silver ran under her skin. Her body couldn´t handle the amount of power. You threw her on her back with a powerful spell and she groaned in pain. But then she teleported and appeared behind you again, a dagger suddenly in her hands. You felt the sharp pain in your side, yet you were able to changed into fight mode. A series of knife attacks followed, until you were able to kick the dagger away with your foot. The dagger slid across the ground and ended up closely to the bonfire. Sadly, it made Serena aware of what was happening behind her back. She saw multiple witches and warlocks already freed and screamed in agony. “YOU!” Her long claws pointed towards Caliban, who wore his usual grin. It was your turn to attack again, with her back turned to you, Serena didn´t even see it coming. Her skin continued to break and she stumbled dangerously closely to the fire. It was the final throw, where she fell over a stone on the floor and her body landed in the fire. Infernal screams followed as she experienced the burning pain.

However, the final act wasn´t over yet. It was a millisecond, where your eyes traveled towards Caliban. A second of not paying attention was all it took. Serena gathered all the power she had left and mixed it with her pain. You didn´t feel pain, all you did was hear Caliban´s screaming. But it was too late. You were thrown back and before even realizing how your body had left the ground, you felt weightlessness. The cliff was high, and when Caliban stumbled to the edge, you were already gone…

There´s nothing left to save now

My god is gonna owe me

There´s nothing left to save now

He barely remembered coming back to hell, sitting on his throne and watching as the demons pulled Serena away. The eternal punishment was sentenced. But all Caliban wanted to do is rip her up with his own hands. He was making sure, that her time in hell would be the worst possible. Afterall she had killed you and he felt the numbness. And now you were gone.

The guilt didn´t help him and the crown on his head felt heavier than ever.

“My king, the newcomer has requested an alliance with the king”, the demon butler interrupted his thoughts. Caliban stood at the window in the study room in his palace, looking down on hell.

“Serena can rot in the darkest holes of hell.”

“I sure hope so.”

Caliban spun around to find you in his room. A dark red dress with golden details on your body.

“Why are you here? You don´t belong here!” He said, his voice first a whisper, then almost an angry exclaim. But you felt his voice shaking. You stepped even closer, until you could lay your hand on his cheek. He grabbed it, making sure you were actually real. And you were.

“All the good girls go to hell.”

Caliban couldn´t help but let a soft laughter as he leaned down and kissed. His hands cupped your face and you smiled.

“I also remember you saying something about me being a queen…”

#caliban imagine #caliban x reader #caliban #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #sabrina spellman imagine #sam corlett #mariamermaidimagine

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sheerbeautyreigns · 3 years

Text

DESIRE

Part 36

"I wanted to show you how committed I am to you."

“You OK?” Colby checked after they left the Peppermill in an Uber. “Yeah, just a bit distracted. Sorry.” Joe said passing him a glance. “Anything I can do?” Colby offered.

Joe passed him a faint smile. “S’ok. I’ll be fine. Did you wanna stay with me tonight? Just chill?”

“I actually made plans with a few others. This was before last night.” He said awkwardly.

“When in Vegas. It’s cool.” Joe couldn’t just expect him to jump when he said so. “I need an early night anyway.” They pulled up to the hotel. It was almost one. Luckily Colby was getting off at a lower floor so he wouldn’t know that Joe was going up to Paul’s room.

“Just like clockwork.” Paul said as Joe walked into his lavish suite. He motioned for Joe to have a seat. This felt like déjà vu. He lowered to the sofa, as did Paul.

“I wanna say I’m sorry about last night. I clearly upset you and that was not my intention.” He started, looking Joe in the eyes. Joe nodded. “I shouldn’t have gotten pissed off. It was your big night and I shouldn’t have messed it up for you.”

“Paul I-” Joe started leading Paul to raise his hand. “Hear me out. I realise I fucked up enough already and I’m treading on thin ice. That’s why I want to make a promise to you now that I’m gonna change and be a better man for you. To trust you. I love you.” He said producing a small box from his pocket. Joe eyes widened upon seeing the box. His eyes then trailed up to Paul’s as he opened it. He lowered his eyes again. A simple, yet elegant silver ring lay embedded in the black box. Joe swallowed. “I wanted to give this to you when you came out to mine but after last night…I didn”t want to wait.”

“I…I wasn’t expecting this.” Joe said blinking, trying to ward off any tears. “I wanted to show you how committed I am to you. I realise it can’t be an engagement ring but it’s close, under our circumstances.”

Joe let out a long sigh as he rose to his feet. “I have to be honest with you Paul. Last night, I was so angry when I left here. I convinced myself that we were done.” He said starting to pace. Paul stood, watching him as he spoke. “You said that you didn’t trust me with Colby and…you were right.”

“What are you getting at?” Paul asked, his eyebrows raised. “There’s no easy way to say it so I’m just gonna come out with it. I slept with him.” Joe eyes met Paul’s. His eyes widened with a mix of what looked like hurt, anger and confusion.

“When?” He asked. “This morning.” Joe confessed. “After all I’ve done for you? You slept with him!?”

“You made me feel like shit last night when you said you didn’t trust me! After all the trust I’ve put in you over the past month?” Joe defended, spreading his hands.

“It’s not the same thing! That trust is between us. You fucked someone else! Someone you know I fucking despise! I can’t fucking believe you.” Paul said lowering to the sofa, his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry! I can’t take it back. I couldn’t lie to you!” Joe said kneeling down next to the sofa. “Paul, I’m sorry.”

“Go! Just get the fuck outta here. I don’t wanna see you.” Paul replied, refusing to look at him. Joe glanced at the ring in the box on the coffee table. Without a word, he backed out of the room. He completely broke down in tears when he got into his own hotel room. He kicked off his Nikes and lay on top of the bed going over what had just transpired. He felt like he had fucked up.

Joe got to the arena at 5:30pm after getting a couple of hours sleep. This was his first night as Universal Champion so he had to open Raw with a promo only to have both Drew and Bray run in and attack. Stephanie would then come out and put the main event of Drew vs Bray. Joe would join commentary and later get involved so he had a busy night.

All he could think about though was seeing Paul. He hated himself for it. They had had the best weekend and now Paul hated him. Joe never got nervous doing promos but as he approached Gorilla position, he felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sure enough, Paul was sat with Vince and Shane. Vince and Shane came over to acknowledge Joe but Paul did not. He didn’t even look at him. Luckily, his music started playing and he was able to get out.

Everything went according to plan when it came to the segment. Joe ended up hurting his shoulder on the ring post but thankfully he wasn’t wrestling that night. When he came in holding his shoulder, Paul was sat talking with Shane. He passed a glance to Joe and then continued talking. At that very moment, Colby appeared. “Hey man, your shoulder took a pretty bad hit there….” He said placing his hand on his back. Paul shot a look at both men and got up. “It’s OK, I’m gonna get it looked at-” Joe started as Paul approached.

“Why don’t you get yourself to the medic.” Paul told Joe firmly, appearing at his side.

“I was just going.” Joe started, eyeing Colby. “Run along then.” Paul patronised. Colby narrowed his eyes knowing that Paul was purposely being a dick just to break both of them apart.

“No need to talk to him like that.” Colby said watching Joe as he walked off. “I’ll talk to him however I like.” Paul smirked. “What’s your problem?” Colby asked raising his hands. “I think you know what my problem is.” Paul turned to face him in an intimidating manner. Luckily for Colby, Shane called Paul over. Colby gritted his teeth, balling his fists. He really hated Paul.

Joe shoulder wasn’t as bad as he had feared. The medic put some tape on it and ordered him to go easy. Nobody was around when he entered the men’s locker room. He went about taking his vest off. Paul knocked and walked in at that moment. Joe looked over his shoulder briefly and continued to undo his vest. “Need some help with that?” Paul asked in his gravelly tone approaching him. “I’ll be fine.” He was clearly struggling with his taped shoulder. He reached over to undo the side, only to wince. “Don’t strain yourself.” Paul warned. “Just let me help you.” Joe blinked, lowering his head as Paul went about removing the vest. “Thanks.” Joe muttered. “Why are you he-” he was cut short as a few others came in. “I want to talk to you. This isn’t ideal. Come find me when you’ve freshened up.” Paul said before leaving.

It didn’t take long for Joe to shower. Once dried off, he slipped into a black t-shirt, some loose jogging bottoms and a pair of Nikes. He threw his hair up into a topknot. After, he approached the gorilla area where Paul was sat with Vince and Shane. Paul gestured one minute to Joe. He shuffled about with his arms folded waiting for a few minutes until Paul approached him. He led him to a meeting room down the hallway.

“Sorry, it’s just so hectic tonight.” Paul started pulling out a seat for Joe. “I would’ve waited-” he said lowering down as Paul took a seat at the head of the table. “No, I wanted to speak with you. Tonight.”

“OK?” Joe leaned back in the chair and clasped his hands together on his torso. “We both fucked up this weekend.” Paul started. “I’m not proud of what I did.” Joe said blushing, lowering his head a little. “You shouldn’t be… but you were honest with me. Look, I don’t want to throw away what we had. I care about you too much.” Joe could see where this was going. “You can see from this afternoon how much I wanted to commit myself to you.” Joe visualised the gleaming silver ring in the black box that Paul had presented to him. He knew he fucked up sleeping with Colby. “I do.” The young man shifted on his seat. He felt so bad. “I love you and I want to trust you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You know I’m crazy about you but I fucked up. I can’t forgive myself for what I did….”

“Do you want to be with me?” Paul asked firmly. “You know I do.” Joe answered “I just feel awful.”

“There is always a resolution.” Paul sat forward, propping his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. “What?” Joe asked. “You could always let me punish you… that is, if you still want to come to my place tomorrow?” Paul could see the look on Joe face change. “Like…how?”

“I think you know. You’ve seen my dungeon.” Paul said with a dark look cross his eyes. Joe swallowed. “Would that make you happy?” the young man asked lowly raising his hand to his temple. “Very.” Joe inhaled looking down on the table. His eyes then trailed up to Paul’s. “OK, if that’s what it takes for us to get past this…” A smile crossed Paul’s face. “Good. Then it’s settled.” Paul rose to his feet. “I have to get back to work but come up to my suite later.” Joe nodded before they left the room and parted ways.

#roman reigns #wwe #tribal chief #fic #roman reigns fic #d/s #seth rollins #hhh #paul levesque

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ddixons-angel · 4 years

Text

Fated: Season 3

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: I can’t believe there’s only two more chapters left of Season 3! Like I said before, I’m most likely going to go back to posting once a week once we hit Season 5, unless you guys want me to keep going with twice a week? Let me know~~ Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 9

The next day after Andrea had visited the prison, offering to set up a meeting with the Governor, Rick took Michonne and Carl out on a run. He had mentioned the night previously after Andrea had left that they needed to stock up supplies, more specifically weapons, for when the Governor attacks. Glenn, Hershel, Beth, and Judith were in the cell block while Maggie and Carol were both on watch. Daryl was outside having a smoke on the picnic table outside as Merle was lounging about in the connecting hallway of Cell Block D; Maggie and Glenn didn’t want Merle always hanging around outside their block so Rick and Daryl agreed to move him to another cell block. Gloria was at the kitchen area washing some dishes from lunch. As she put the last dish away to dry, she wipes her hands on a cloth before hanging it over the sink. She’s about to walk back to the cell block when she hears a whistle emitting from where Merle was. Gloria rolls her eyes as she looks over to the man who was already looking at her through the gate.

“What?” she says, not amused.

“Listen, I jus’ wanna talk.” Merle tells her, he raises up his arms to show her that he’s not being hostile, “no tricks or nothin’.”

Gloria ponders for a moment before nodding and follows his lead to his own cell block. She knows that Merle can’t beat her in a fight, injured or not, Merle still only has one hand and Gloria was able to beat him up when he still had two. Plus, she had her daggers on her.

Once in the cell block, Merle lets out a sigh and turns around to face Gloria but is met with her fist. He stumbles back at the punch, not at all expecting it. Before he’s able to shout for her to stop, she knees him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“That was for beating up Glenn and taking Maggie to the Governor!” Gloria seethes in anger, she then strikes his back with her elbow then pushes him to the ground.

Merle groans in pain, “an’ what was that for?!”

“All the times you pissed me off.” Gloria huffs then leans on the wall, crossing her arms as she looks at him.

Instead of being angry, Merle laughs at her answer then sits on the ground, leaning back on his hands and pauses a bit before he starts talking, “‘M sorry. For what I did to your brother and that farmer girl. But I do have to let ya know, if it weren’t for me, Glenn’d be dead.”

Gloria rolls her eyes and scoffs at his words, “Do you actually think I’m going to believe that you saved Glenn by beating him up? You were going to execute them! You think I’m stupid?!”

“If it were anyone else, Glenn’d be dead. They woulda killed him, I jus’ dragged it out! Had to make it look realistic or they’d jus’ shoot him straight up!” Merle defends and Gloria eyes him, not knowing whether to believe him or not, seeing this, he sighs, “look, I didn’ want Glenn to die ‘cause o’ what ya did for me on the roof. Ya stayed. Even if it was for Daryl, ya still stayed.”

Gloria’s face softens at his words, hearing the sincerity behind them, “you still threw a walker at Glenn...”

“Come on, I knew he could take it! Kid’s a ninja!” Merle exclaims causing Gloria to scoff.

“Ninjas are Japanese, Merle.” Gloria corrects him.

Merle rolls his eyes at that, “hey I’m tryin’ ‘ere, a’right? Gimme a break.”

Gloria chuckles then lets out a breath, “is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, “I wanted to talk to ya about Daryl.”

Gloria frowns, confused. Why would he want to talk to her about his brother? She looks at him, Merle’s expression unreadable but serious as he looks back at her.

“My baby brother,” he starts, “he cares a lot ‘bout ya. I know jus’ by the way he looks at ya, I’ve never seen that look in his eye before, not wit’ anyone. But you, you’re the reason he came back to this prison.”

Gloria ponders his words, “he... did he tell you that?”

“Hell nah! He’d never admit that shit!” Merle chuckles, covering up for Daryl, “but he didn’ need to, I jus’ know, I raised him after all!”

A sense of guilt raises inside Gloria, she doesn’t know what to think. A few days ago, she had yelled at Daryl for leaving, saying that he didn’t care at all about her or the group. Sure, they were words of anger but Gloria was trying to convince herself rather than him as a sense of protection in case he ever left without a word again. Now, Merle was here vouching for Daryl, telling her that he cares a lot about her in particular.

“Jus’... take it easy on my brother, a’right?” Merle says with a heavy sigh, “he ain’ good with words an’ ain’ ever been good at relationships, hell, he doesn’ even know the love of a parent... but he’s tryin’, ya know? He’s tryin’ for you.”

Gloria looks up at him, a thoughtful look on her face, “why are you telling me all this?”

“‘Cause you’re the only broad I can see worthy o’ takin’ care o’ my brother. Ya sure can pack hell of a punch, and if ya can keep ol’ Merle in check, ya definitely can keep Daryl in check.” Merle says with a genuine smile.

Gloria’s about to respond but both of their attention is taken away from each other as they hear quick paced footsteps emitting from the hallway. They turn their heads to look at the door and Daryl and Glenn emerge with worry written on both their faces. However, their look of worry is soon replaced by looks of confusion as they survey the scene in front of them. Gloria was leaning on the wall, unscathed, while Merle was sitting on the ground with a split lip and bloody nose. Glenn and Daryl glance at each other, communicating without words on who won the fight. Daryl makes his way over to help Merle up as Glenn goes over to Gloria who pushes herself off the wall.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Glenn says, his tone full of disapproval.

“Getting revenge for you.” Gloria shrugs then follows Glenn back to their cell block.

Daryl pulls Merle up to his feet and gives him a onceover, “she beat ya up again?” he asks, trying to hide a look of amusement.

“Ya got one hell of a woman there, little brother.” Merle chuckles as he watches the blush creep up on Daryl’s face, he then places his hand on Daryl’s shoulder, making the younger look at him, “she’ll come around, and when she does, ya hold on to her. She’s a keeper, that one!”

Wanting to hide his embarrassment, Daryl scoffs and pushes Merle’s arm off him, “shut up.”

Merle laughs as he watches Daryl walk out of the cell block back to his own. He shakes his head at how flustered the younger man can get. Smiling to himself, Merle retreats to one of the many cells and rests.

---

The next day, Rick, Daryl, and Hershel had left the prison to meet with the Governor for possible negotiations. When Rick had come back from his run with Carl and Michonne, he had brought back a full artillery of weapons to fight the Governor. Andrea had told them that they were to meet up at noon the following day, but for precautions and to scope out the area, the three of them had left in the morning. Gloria and Carol were on watch together on the watch platform leaving everyone else back in either the cell block or main area.

“How’s your shoulder?” Carol asks, giving Gloria a smile.

“It’s good,” Gloria glances over at her bandaged shoulder then back at Carol, also with a smile, “doesn’t hurt anymore, so I’d say it’s healing well.”

“What about things with Daryl? Are they also healing well?” Carol asks, curious while also giving Gloria a knowing look.

Gloria blushes slightly at the question then looks away into the courtyard, “I had a chat with Merle about Daryl yesterday. He says that Daryl... he really cares about me and that I’m the reason he came back.”

“Do you believe him?” Carol questions, more for Gloria than her own curiosity.

“I don’t know... I mean, he didn’t sound like he was lying but...” Gloria lets out a sigh and looks down.

“It’s okay, give it time. I don’t think you should give up on Daryl, people and feelings are all we truly have these days. And what you have with Daryl is special,” Carol puts her hand on Gloria’s shoulder as Gloria nods, “have you forgiven him yet?”

“Honestly? I don’t even know.” Gloria purses her lips, “whenever I think about how he just left, I still feel mad, but I am glad he’s back. I’m happy he’s back with us. I just don’t know when I’ll stop being mad at him for leaving.”

Carol nods, understanding and gives Gloria’s shoulder a light pat but before she can say anything in reply, a gunshot sounds from the direction of the cell block. Both women glance at each other, exchanging looks of worry before bolting off to the cell block. Once they open the door to the prison to the main area outside of their cell block, they see Beth holding a gun aimed to the ceiling and Merle on the ground wrestling with Glenn.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Gloria shouts, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Merle wants to intrude on the meeting with the Governor,” Maggie explains while glaring at Merle, “but Glenn isn’t letting him go.”

Gloria sighs and goes down the steps, “Merle, get off of Glenn, now!”

Merle, who is still pinning Glenn down on the ground, glances up at Gloria then back at Glenn and pushes himself off the ground, freeing her brother. He takes a few steps back from the other man as Glenn gets up as well, both men eyeing each other.

“All o’ ya say ya wanna beat the damn Governor, but ya ain’t doin’ shit to beat him! We know where he is! We can ambush him and kill him there!” Merle shouts.

“Merle, you know that puts Daryl and the others in danger too, right?” Gloria asks rhetorically.

“And them three goin’ doesn’ put ‘em in danger? How do we know that the Governor didn’t bring his entire army to this meetin’?” Merle yells back, his worry evident in his voice.

“You’re right, we don’t know that. But what you’re suggesting is too big a risk to take.” Gloria takes another step down on the steps so that she’s level with the others, “think about it, Merle. Regardless of whether the Governor took his entire army, if they have a lookout and catch us trying to ambush them, Daryl, Rick, and Hershel are still with the Governor. They could turn it into a hostage situation and it puts them in even more danger. You may not care about Rick or Hershel, but I know you care about Daryl and you want to look out for him, but wanting to ambush the Governor does the complete opposite of that.”

“Yeah, that’s what we’ve all been trying to tell him but he just doesn’t get it with that thick skull of his.” Glenn says, still glaring at Merle.

His words provoke Merle as he growls, lunging at Glenn but only to be stopped as Gloria unsheathes one of her daggers and presses it to Merle’s throat, making him freeze in place.

“Keep moving and see what happens.” Gloria challenges him.

Merle glares at her but moves back, he can’t help but admit to himself that he’s quite impressed with how badass Gloria is. Still huffing in anger, he backs off from Glenn and the others.

He then looks at Gloria, “I didn’ wanna cause trouble, like ya said, I only wanted to help Daryl.”

“You can help him by shutting up and waiting for them to come back.” Gloria says as she puts her dagger back into its sheath then turns to Glenn, “and no more bitter retorts from you either.”

Glenn crosses his arms and huffs, not saying anything else as he knows he was guilty of provoking Merle. He lets out another breath before making his way to the door and going outside to get some air. Merle goes to the hallway connecting his cell block to the main area and sits along the wall. Gloria looks over at Carol and they both sigh, glad that the damage of the altercation was somewhat minimal to say the least.

---

Next Chapter

A lot of Merle in this chapter hehe so yeah I might have grown a soft spot for Merle, at first I hated him but after rewatching the show over, I grew to like him, in his own twisted way, he does care for Daryl! That and he’s also Mary Poppins hahaha sorry there wasn’t many Gloria Daryl moments, but I needed this chapter, what did you think of Merle’s interacts with Gloria though?? Let me know!!!

I hope everyone stays safe and healthy, please don’t panic, we will get through this!

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d list to be added/removed!):

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon Fanfic #Daryl Dixon Fanfiction #Daryl Dixon Imagine #Daryl Dixon X OC #Daryl Dixon X Original Character #TWD #TWD Fanfic #TWD Fanfiction #TWD Imagine #The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead Fanfic #The Walking Dead Fanfiction #The Walking Dead Imagine #Glenn Sister!OC #Glenn Sister!Original Character #Glenn Rhee #Fated: Season 3 #Fated: S3: Chapter 9

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wedreamedlove · 4 years

Text

[FIC] baby, you taste like you’re made out of FINE

Rating: M Characters: Li Zeyan/Reader Word Count: 2014

A/N: Fingers crossed I can write something for everyone's birthday this year. Happy Birthday to our CEO!! He's 31 this year if we count from when the game was released in China :).

Tags: Li Zeyan POV. Fluff. UST. Drunk!Reader. Established Relationship.

Summary: Li Zeyan and you attend a party to celebrate his birthday a day early but you get drunk there. Li Zeyan takes you back to his place and is reminded all over again on how he should never let you get drunk.

"Honestly... How is it that you're drunk when I was the guest of honor?"

Li Zeyan muttered this under his breath. Not that it mattered though, since the woman teetering in his arms was intoxicated to the point where she probably couldn't hear what he was saying.

As he shifted to hold her with one hand and unlocked his front door with the other, she continued to chatter to him about all the things that happened tonight. They had just arrived back home from a combined party between their companies to celebrate his birthday a day early. It had been another one of his woman's ridiculous ideas.

It was ridiculous and yet he still attended.

"And then---then I told them that---"

"Mn."

Li Zeyan shuffled her into the foyer, making noises at the appropriate times to show that he was listening, and knelt down to undo the straps of her heels and take them off. Fortunately, she was still aware enough to hold onto his shoulders for balance.

Then he moved her to the couch in the living room and sat her down.

"I'm going to get you a glass of water."

He turned around to head to the kitchen but felt a tug on his sleeve that stopped him. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw her pout at him.

"No! I want to keep drinking!"

He gave an exasperated sigh. "You're drunk enough already."

"I'm not drunk!" She denied immediately. But the way she swayed while being seated on the couch gave her words little credence.

"Be good, drink some water, and then go to sleep. I don't want to hear you complain about a hangover tomorrow."

She was already shaking her head before he even finished speaking. "I can't go to sleep yet!"

"Why?" He asked, facing her properly and crossing his arms when he realized this conversation was going to take longer than he thought.

"Because..." She hemmed and hawed and then suddenly gave a large silly smile. "It's a secret!"

"......"

Even though she was drunk it seemed like she was sensitive enough to pick up on his diminishing patience because she turned serious. "I can't sleep yet. I'm waiting on something important!"

"What are you waiting for?"

"If I tell you then it's not a secret!"

Li Zeyan had just flattened his lips into a displeased line when he saw her reach out and gingerly pinch his shirt, right above his belt. She stuck out her lower lip more, if that was possible, and stared up at him with eyes misty from the alcohol. There was a faint flush across her cheeks.

For a second he was reminded of something else. Hair spread out on a pillow below him. Cheeks rosy from exertion. Lips parted in a silent need for air. And those damp eyes looking up at him...

Li Zeyan swallowed and averted his eyes. "How long do you need to wait?"

"Umm... just a few more minutes! Like after one more glass of wine!"

He looked back at her, narrowing his eyes. "This isn't just because you want to drink more, is it? Who knew you were such a drunkard."

"Nooo! I promise! It'll be time after one more glass!"

She shook her head vehemently and would have tipped over if he hadn't quickly reached out to steady her. Li Zeyan found himself sighing again, barely able to believe he was going to give into her, but he recognized that stubborn set of her jaw and, to be honest, he was curious about what she was waiting on too.

"Just one more glass," he said sternly.

He made sure she was stable on the couch and then turned on his heel to head to his wine rack in the kitchen while undoing the first two buttons of his shirt for comfort. It didn't take long for him to choose a wine and he pulled out a Marchese dell'Elsa Moscato d'Asti and two glasses before returning to the living room.

Li Zeyan deftly poured the wine into the two glasses and passed one over to the foolish woman who just watched him with those eyes.

"Don't spill it on the couch." He couldn't help but warn her.

"Jeez, I'm really not that drunk," she complained as she received the glass. But he saw how she tightened her grip on it.

Li Zeyan took a seat beside her as she tried the wine and made an appreciative noise. Copying her, he sipped at the wine and rolled it around in his mouth, feeling the taste of peaches tempered by a faint flavor of citrus spread across his tongue. It was a bit too sweet for his liking, but its soft nature made it perfect for a casual evening after a meal. Like he expected, she also seemed to enjoy it. A lot actually, if her drinking pace was anything to go by.

"If you finish before it's time, I'm not pouring you another glass," he stated.

Just as she turned to him to stick out her tongue, he heard her phone alarm go off.

"Ah!" She sat up straight. "It's time!"

Before Li Zeyan could finally ask what she was waiting for she suddenly threw herself over to him and climbed on top of him. The leftover wine in her glass tossed dangerously close to its mouth.

He automatically supported her with a hand even as he stiffened and asked tersely, "What are you thinking of doing?"

A smile bloomed across her face, carrying the scent of peaches. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Time for an idiot girl to go to sleep?"

"Bzzt!" She imitated the sound of a buzzer and then leaned forward, hair falling down past her ears and sliding across his cheeks. This feeling was echoed inside him as if she had trailed a sleeve of silk over his heart. It was a tantalizing sensation.

His vision narrowed down to her curved pink lips and her eyes which glittered in the low light of the living room. It was like the rest of the world was blocked out by her and she was about to share a secret with him and only him.

She came even closer and he felt her breath on his lips.

"Happy Birthday."

Li Zeyan felt her brush her lips against his in the barest of caresses before she pulled back, beaming at him with a smile large enough to show the top and bottom rows of her teeth. It was easy to see her pure happiness and innocent joy at being the first to say this to him.

"This is why you couldn't go to sleep? Stupid." But his words were infinitely soft.

He brought the hand up that had been supporting her to cup the back of her head and pull her down into a longer kiss.

Li Zeyan could taste the lingering notes of the wine in her mouth, but he wasn't sure if the pleasurable haze settling over his mind was from the sweetness of the drink or from her. Wanting an answer to this question, he tilted his head for a deeper angle and as his tongue stroked hers---

A cool and wet sensation splashed on his chest.

He flinched back in his seat, inhaling sharply at the surprise, and scowled when he saw what had doused the mood. She had spilled her glass of wine on him.

"What did I say earlier?" He set his own glass aside on a nearby side table and looked at her with a dark face.

She blinked slowly, coming out of a daze (and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel a curl of satisfaction at that), and looked down to exclaim in surprise. "Sorry! Wait, wait, don't move or it'll drip down."

He could already feel it trickling down his chest though and, as she continued to look around for something to clean him with, he settled his hands on her waist to lift her off so he could get up.

"I'll take care of it myself." "I've got it!"

Both of them spoke at the same time and then, before Li Zeyan could react, she bent down and licked the strip of skin exposed between the two undone buttons of his shirt.

His hands spasmed around her waist. "What are you---"

Li Zeyan swallowed back his words along with the groan that rose up at the feeling of her tongue on him.

"This way's faster and it doesn't waste the wine," she said and looked at him.

The sight of her gazing up at him beneath her eyelashes and that sensually red tongue flicking out to lap at his chest was enough to send a rush of molten heat down to a certain part of him.

Li Zeyan dropped his head on the back of the couch and wrestled with two desires: should he push her away? Or let her do what she wanted?

As she unbuttoned his shirt further and licked down his chest, following the trail the wine took, his breaths quickened and his hands flexed against her waist. She was drunk, Li Zeyan told himself sternly, but every stroke of her tongue eroded his will.

The scent of peaches was thick in the air but underneath he could faintly smell the fragrance of the shampoo he always gifted her and also something that was just uniquely her. It was a heady combination that made his reason crumble like a sandcastle under an ocean wave. Maybe he was drunk too. No, maybe he had always been intoxicated by her.

Unbeknownst to the both of them, a hush fell over the room. The ripples in Li Zeyan's wine glass froze. The background hum of the heater disappeared. Most notably, the hand of the clock in the living room stopped.

His complete attention was on the burning path her tongue left on his skin as she chased the wine along the ridges of his abdominal muscles and went down and down and down. Anticipation curled tight in his gut when he felt her get closer to the belt of his pants. He was already hard underneath her. Painfully so.

But she stopped just a few centimeters from his belt.

He looked down to see her stare at his chest and nod with satisfaction. "Done! No more wine."

... Hah?

She sat back, brushing against his hardness, and Li Zeyan dropped his head again, slamming his eyes shut to strangle the instinctive urge to move his hips. She was drunk, he reminded himself. She was drunk and he wasn't going to take advantage of that.

But hadn't he already? He didn't stop her from coming this far.

Li Zeyan could only feel the flames of desire burning beneath his skin when he opened his eyes. He stared up at the ceiling as he swallowed past a dry mouth and spoke in a hoarse voice. "There's more wine if you want."

There was no response.

Furrowing his brows, he looked down only to see that the woman had rested her head on his chest at some point and was now breathing peacefully in sleep.

"......"

Li Zeyan brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and exhaled a hot breath. He wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or disappointed or frustrated. Willing the tight pressure in his pants down, he moved her off him and onto the couch before grabbing a throw blanket to cover her.

At the same time, everything resumed its flow of time. The hum of the heater jumped back into existence. The wine in the bottle and Li Zeyan's glass swayed from his footsteps. And the clock hand began to move again.

"See if I don't make you pay for this tomorrow morning," he growled lowly but, in contrast to his words, his actions were gentle when he brushed a kiss on her forehead.

Li Zeyan straightened up, adjusting his pants with a grimace, and made his way to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower.

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mr love queen's choice #love and producer

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years

Text

No more running No more lying (Jack Kelley x reader, Newsies imagine)

No more running no more lying

Newsies x reader

Word count

Warnings: depression, self harm

Author’s note: This takes place before the strike.

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

You had joined the Newsie gang a few months ago. Your folks were in an accident and you were left alone, on the streets. You didn’t talk about it much, you didn’t want to. You tried to lay low as much as you could with the group, you didn’t want to relive the pain

You, being the first female Newsie in...ever, caught a lot of attention from the other boys. Everyone wanted to partner with you, especially Jack Kelley. You were flattered really, but you weren’t interested. They never really stopped trying though

“Hey y/n/n, you’s wanna take me up on that offah?” Jack would ask you almost every morning.

You would always laugh it off. “Not yet, Jack. Nice try though.”

All the boys just thought you were stubborn. What kind of girl would say no to THE Jack Kelley? And if you were honest with yourself, you really were interested. But you didn't want anyone getting too close. You didn’t want anyone knowing your secret.

You never really got past losing your folks. You told the gang that it had happened a lot longer ago than it did. You didn’t want them to think it was fresh in your mind and keep peppering you about it. Instead you could just say “I don’t remember.” and they wouldn’t press further.

You would never let any of the guys think that you were still shaken up about it. They’d just give you a hard time about it or get all weird. No, you kept it locked away, far away for no one to see. You didn’t want them asking questions or finding out that something was seriously wrong.

Ever since your folks died, you couldn’t handle the waves of painful emotion that would sweep you off of your feet. Instead, you would take it out on your skin.

You had taken to self harming not long after you took to the streets. Before you left your home though, you had grabbed your pops’ dagger. You kept it hidden around a pape in the bottom of your sack. After nightfall, when all of the others were asleep, you would sneak out to the streets. You’d roll up your sleeves and slice your arms in the light given by the moon.

You never went too deep, seeing as you had no money to afford proper first aid supplies. No, instead you would wait until the blood ran dry, then roll down your sleeves and head back to your sleeping spot and wait for the morning bell to wake you.

You always wore long sleeves no matter where you went. You had joined the Newsies mid-spring, and it was now the dead of summer. You were always sweating and you’d get looks from the rest of the guys, but that was okay with you. You’d rather be sweating and getting weird glances than the looks of pity or disgust.

Besides, even if you did trust the guys with this kind of thing, you had to hide it away anyways. If anyone saw slashes on your arms, you’d either end up in an asylum or the refuge.

Neither was okay with you.

So you hid it, kept it locked away from everyone. You couldn’t bear to think of what would happen otherwise. You’d rather pretend to be something better than the broken mess that you are. Then you didn’t have to deal with it for most of the day. And no one else got to see it either. That was okay with you.

And so you went through your day to day life. You sold papes, you dealt with Jack’s non stop flirting, and you spent every night in the alleyways. When you had too many emotions you always turned to the one thing that never let you down.

Your father’s blade.

And you never really thought anything would change. You wanted it too, you just knew it couldn’t. You loved the boys like family, you just couldn’t shake that deep down, you felt like you weren’t where you were meant to be. And no matter how much you tried to fool yourself, you couldn’t run from your own mind.

You felt completely, utterly, trapped

Eventually your method of dealing with your emotions became less useful. But the pain didn’t decrease at all. If anything, your emotions were getting more out of hand. You were itching to do it while you were selling, and it became the only thing you could think about. You longed for the sun to go down and for everyone to fall asleep so you could go do what you longed to.

Slowly, you began to leave earlier and earlier. Before you knew people were asleep. You cared if someone saw you, but your need to find relief overpowered that.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You took to the streets before it was even completely dark out. You would look over your shoulder to make sure no one was following you, and no one was. But what you didn’t see, was a certain Jack Kelley watching you walk rather quickly down an alleyway. Which was strange to him, since you were looking over your shoulder as if someone was following you. But if that had been the case, then why would you walk down a dark alley?

Either way, he decided it wasn’t good news. And he decided that it would be best to follow you.

He climbed down from his self-proclaimed penthouse and began walking down the way you were heading. He stayed in the shadows and walked quietly so you wouldn’t suspect he was watching.

He saw you sit down on the ground and tilt your head back. He noticed how you looked distressed, and he replayed the day in his head, looking for something that was different about today than any other day. There was nothing.

He was brought out of his head by the sound of you hitting the ground, after which you proceeded to put your head in your hands. He could have sword he heard you stifling crying noises.

Jack shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He wasn’t really good at dealing with emotions, nonetheless with a girl. Especially not you. He’d never tell the others and he didn’t even want to admit it to himself, but his playful attempts at flirting really were genuine.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he had no idea what he was supposed to

He watched helplessly from the shadows, unsure of if it would be better to approach you or pretend like he never saw you in the first place. He was just about to turn around when he saw you roll up your sleeves.

Your arms were still covered in blood from the night before. And while it was dark, it wasn’t dark enough to conceal it from Jack’s eyes. He pulled his eyebrows together. When did you get hurt. HOW did you get hurt? And why wouldn’t you say anything?

He was pulled out of his thoughts once again when he saw you reach into your sack. He saw you hold a bundle of papes, and he wondered what they were for. They wouldn’t do much to help with dry blood. But then he saw you unwrap them, and he saw a glint coming off of what it was.

Some sort of metal. No, wait….

Jack swallowed nervously. You were holding a knife. And he decided he couldn’t wait anymore, and he couldn’t leave you. Not like this.

He ran over and before you could look to see what the sudden footsteps were, Jack was standing in front of you, reaching for the knife.

You grasped it tighter and began to wrestle with him. “NO! Kelley - Stop!” you whisper- yelled at him. You didn’t want any of the others hearing you. But he was a lot stronger than you and took the blade from you, tossing it far away from the both of you.

He looked at you hard, and though he was trying to conceal it, you could see he was scared. He still stood over where you sat. You tried to stand and get to where he had thrown it, but he put his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to sit back down. You still wrestled in his grasp. “Hey, hey! Y/n!” he said, much louder than you had before, trying to get your attention. He had it, and you sat back down and swallowed.

You tried to nonchalantly tug your sleeves down, but Jack grabbed your arm and crouched down to your level before you could. You tried to yank it away, Jack said “Hey, stop it. I just wanna see.”

Now that he could see it up close, he saw the many marks that laid beneath the blood. And in that moment, he was more scared than he had ever been in his entire life.

He knew exactly what this was, but he didn’t want to believe it. “What exactly did I jus’ walk in on, Y/n?”

You looked away, unable to look at his pained expression. “None of your business, Jack,” you said, sounding a lot less tough than you intended to.

Jack smiled a little and said, “Now I know somethin’s up. You nevah call me by my name. Not that I’m complaining.” You shot him an annoyed glance and he held up the hand that wasn’t still holding your arm. “Alright, not now, I get it. But seriously - What were ya doin’ Y/N?”

You sigh and run your other hand through your hair. “Look, it’s not your problem, so…”

“Damn right it is! One of my newsies is hurtin’ an’ I won’t stand for it.”

Realizing you weren’t going to get out of this conversation, you let out another breath and looked back at Jack. “It’s complicated.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, is it? Cause, by the looks of it, you was about to slice your skin apart. And by the looks of your arm, you’s been doin’ this a while.”

You closed your eyes and hung your head in defeat. “Yeah, Jack. i was.”

A bit taken aback, he let go of your arm. You quickly covered it with your sleeve again and crossed your arms over your chest. “Why would you’s do sucha thing?”

You leaned your head back against the building you sat against and closed your eyes again. “I dunno.”

“Yeah you do,” he said and you snapped your head back to him. “You’s don’ do somethin’ like that unless you’s has a reason.”

Damn, he really wasn’t gonna leave you alone. You looked him dead in the eye. “I lied to ya’s. My folks died the day before I’s joined you guys. I didn’ know how to deal with it, so’s this is what I do.”

Jack looked shocked now. That wasn’t what he had been expecting. He had always pegged you as the kinda girl who wouldn’t do something like this. “What - what d’you mean? Why didn’ yous say somethin’?”

You shook your head. “I’s didn’ know what to say. An’ I didn’ want no pity from you’s! This is my issue, and I’s gotta sort through it myself!”

He shook his head and said, “Look, no offense, but it doesn’ look like you’s been doin’ a great job with that.”

You tried to look angry with him, but you couldn’t bring yourself too. You had tried to keep up your facade for too long and you were breaking. You tried to speak but no words would come out. Your eyes started brimming with tears again, and Jack started to panic.

“No - Please, Don’ cry. I don’ knows how to deal with tears.”

You swallowed and laughed a little before giving him a serious face. “You’re doin’ a great job,” you said before laughing out even more

He scoffed and his lips curled into a smile. “Oh, is that so? Look, I’s doin’ the best I can ovah here, you’s can at least shows me some respect.”

You were both laughing now, and both glad that the conversation had lightened up a little bit. “But really, Y/N, why wouldn’ you’s say somethin’?

You shrugged, “I really didn’ want you’s to worry. And really - It isn’ you guys’ problem. An’ I realy didn’ know what to say. I didn’ wanna be a problem.”

You looked away and Jack said “Hey, listen here. You’s ain’ a problem. Nevah have been, nevah could be. So I need you’s to look at me.”

You brought your gaze back to meet Jack’s. “No more runnin’ away from this, no more lyin’. You ain’ nevah need to hide from me, an’ you especially can’ hide this anymore. And that, ovah there,” he said as he pointed to the knife. “Is comin’ with me. “

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, please. I can’ - I need that. It’s my fadduh’s an’ - an’ I needs it. Please, Jack.”

Jack sighed, but held firm. “Look, I knows it’s importan’ to ya, but I can’ let you have it. Not alone.”

Tears now falling down your face, you still shook your head, even though you knew he was right. Sighing, you started to nod slightly, and Jack let out the breath he had been holding.

“An’ you’d gonna sell with me for the next while too.”

You nodded your head. That much you were okay with. You didn’t mind selling with Jack. It always made for a fun time. You looked at him and said “Jus’ please don’ treat me differen’. An’ don’ tell the others eithah.” He looked at you, as if deciding what to do. “Please Jack,” you pleaded. He nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’s can do that.”

You looked down at your hands. “So, what now?” you asked hesitantly.

“Well, I’m jus’ gonna go ovah there and take that blade-ah yours, an’ then we’s gonna go back up there and try to get some sleep before the mornin’ bell tomorrah,” he said. You nodded your head.

“Okay Kelley. Sounds good to me,” you said quietly. He stood up and offered his hand out to you. You took it and stood up, standing inches apart. He looked down before looking back at you and saying “Y’know, I’s don’ just flirt around with any girl I’s see.”

You narrowed your eyes and said teasingly, “Yes you do.”

He blushed and laughed before saying “Yeah, but I don’ mean it with every girl I sees.”

Now it was your turn to blush. Still, you pulled it together and said “You almost had me there, Kelley.” You clapped a hand on his shoulder and started walking off.

You heard him run up behind you but what you weren’t expecting was when he turned you around and pressed his lips to yours, hands on both cheeks. When he pulled away, he said “I really do mean it, kid.”

And with that, the two of you walked back to where you would sleep for the night. Jack to his penthouse with Crutchie, and you to one not far away.

#newsies #jack kelly #newsies imagine #depression #depressioncomfort #selfharm #selfharmcomfort #jack #jack kelly imagine

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mari-onberry · 4 years

Note

Prompt #13 for zutaraang if you feel up for it!!

Finally finished this, sorry it took so long! Thank you so much for the ask!

ao3 link

---

Aang had never seen the ocean up close. It was odd, since his girlfriend loved the ocean as if it was her home, but once they met, they were both too busy with school and trying to be adults that they never had time to visit. So, the summer before college, they decided to take the trip. Katara had an itinerary of where to stop along the way, what cities they would visit, and where they would stay when they finally reached their destination. Aang knew they most likely wouldn’t follow the plan that closely when they actually started on their journey.

Then, there was a huge storm, and they had to cancel their plans.

Not only that, but it would be another year until they had the time to go on a trip like that again. It wasn’t hard to tell that Katara and Aang were both disappointed when they got the news.

Then, later that year, they met Zuko. And although they had all but forgotten about the ocean, that big trip was still at the back of their minds and they were almost glad that they had to postpone, because now they would have Zuko with them.

“Zuko, come on, it’ll be fun!” Aang cheered him on, already packing for something still a week away.

Zuko sulked. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the ocean. “You and Katara are welcome to go without me. This was your trip originally, anyway. I doubt it’ll be that fun for me.”

Aang frowned. “You are completely welcome to come, Zuko. It won’t be as fun without you there.”

Zuko sighed, giving in. His heart hurt when he went against Aang, especially when he pouted like that. “Fine. But you can’t make me swim.”

Aang imagined Zuko swimming like an angry cat, struggling against the water. He agreed they shouldn’t force Zuko to swim.

So, they packed everything they needed and more, including supplies for a picnic, and Zuko loved the car ride at least. He had started to love the conversations Katara had while focusing on driving, and he also loved watching the scenery go by. There was something special about how the time passed on a road trip that Zuko really enjoyed.

In a couple hours, during which Zuko had spent most of the time napping, they stopped to have a picnic of sandwiches, and although his mind was in too much of a haze from the nap to retain anything other than the grass stains on his pants, he did like the sandwiches. Aang and Katara had wanted to have the picnic on the beach, but Zuko didn't like the thought of getting sand in their food. The park was peaceful anyway, and Zuko could already feel the coastal air on his skin.

After the picnic, when he was a little more awake, he noticed that Aang had switched to the driver’s seat. Not only that, but now Zuko was in the back seat, where he had more room to nap. He definitely didn't remember moving there, which meant they had carried him while he was asleep.

He blushed just at the thought then cleared his throat to let them know he was awake and that they could stop whispering.

“Zuko, welcome back," Katara exclaimed half-asleep herself, turning around to see that he had woken up. She stared for a while, looking for what seemed specifically off about him. His hair might’ve been messed up, yes, but he was sure they were used to that by now.

"You alright? You fell asleep pretty easily during our picnic." Her voice changed to be more hushed as she asked, "Did you have trouble sleeping last night?"

Zuko's nightmares had been few and far-between with Aang and Katata by his side, but they hadn't gone completely away. Now that they weren't Freshmen anymore, they had pooled their money to rent a very cheap (at least by Zuko's standards) one bedroom apartment a few blocks away from campus, so sleeping in the same bed proved a lot easier. Still, he had slept very soundly the previous night, and he specifically remembered waking up before the other two, which he preferred. He didn't like waking up with both of them gone.

The reason he fell asleep so easily was more likely a combination of the summer-filled air and the lack of stress since they weren't taking any classes for another month.

"I'm fine." He sat up in his seat, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Well, that’s good, because we’re here,” Aang announced, and Zuko looked out the window to confirm that it was true. Sure enough, he could see the beach from their spot in the parking lot. It didn't look like the fanciest beach-- not like those he would visit with his family-- but that meant there was almost no one there with them. From the parking lot, the landscape was made up of steep rocks, and there was only a few feet of sand between that and the water. Once they parked, Aang and Katara were suddenly out of the car. Zuko, on the other hand, was still waking up from his nap.

“Do you need me to come back there and wake you up?” Katara jokingly threatened, holding out her hands to show that she would tickle him if he didn't get up immediately.

At that, Zuko reflexively jumped up, grabbed his towel, and ran down the steps towards the beach, Katara pursuing close behind. Just as Zuko ran out of ground unless he was willing to get in the water, Katara had caught up with him, laughing as he jumped back so as not to get his feet wet. They both turned around just in time to see Aang dumbfounded by the vastness of it. Even those who had seen miles of land from mountaintops could be stunned by how endless the ocean seems.

Zuko would never get tired of the curious glint in Aang’s eyes, and from the look of it, neither would Katara. He set up his towel on the sand and watched as Katara explained that the water would be much colder than he expected, and that he probably shouldn’t get any closer without a bathing suit unless he was willing to get his pants wet. Aang stepped forward into the water anyway, and Katara let him, knowing she had done all she could to prepare him, and it was his responsibility now if he was disappointed by the negative effects of his actions.

Katara approached Zuko then, holding out the sunscreen.

Zuko shook his head. “I don’t need any. I don’t burn.”

“You’re kidding.” He couldn’t tell if she actually didn't believe him, or if she was jealous. Or both.

“I’m not.” He laid back, feeling the heat of the sun on his face, as if to prove it.

She just shook her head, told him,“You’re incredible,” and then walked back to Aang, who was now about knee deep in the freezing cold water.

Zuko watched them once in a while, even though he told himself he was only going to sunbathe. Even though he hated the water, especially such cold water, and especially after every bad memory of vacations with his family, watching them splash around in it made him understand what he was missing. He still wasn’t ready to swim just yet, though.

Later, once Aang had finally agreed to leave the water, Zuko held him close in an attempt to warm him up, although he was shivering by the end of it, too.

Aang was so close to him he didn't really care, though. The smaller boy giggled and Zuko could tell he still wanted to get back into the water.

"You're gonna get hypothermia if you stay out there any longer." Zuko said, matter-of-fact, although it wasn't quite true.

Aang fidgeted a little, obviously not content. "Well, alright. As long as I get something else in return.” He leaned forward, suggesting he wanted a kiss, and although Zuko rolled his eyes at the silly attempt, he did kiss him.

He tasted too much like salt water for Zuko’s liking, and Aang couldn’t hold back his laugh when Zuko pulled back with a sour look on his face.

“Maybe once you’ve dried off a little,” Zuko suggested, now realizing Aang’s still-damp body had slowly been dripping on to him and drenching a spot on his shirt. Great.

Aang stuck out his tongue but did as he was told, grabbing a towel of his own.

Katara was still wading in the cold water, even after the tide came in. She barely seemed bothered by it, and the only reason she got out of the water at all was because the sun was quickly sinking in the sky and they needed to get to their hotel room.

Although they were somewhat in the middle of nowhere, there was still a small motel a couple minutes drive away, so once they were all adequately dried off and free of as much sand as possible, Katara drove. They had already made a reservation, so they mainly just rested from the sun and sea-water soaked evening behind them. Being summer, it had gotten later than Zuko expected, and it was already almost 9:00, which would explain why he was so tired.

They were exhausted when they finally got to their room, and they piled onto the bed, Zuko flopping down on top of the covers, too tired to even curl up under them.

Aang and Katara both still smelled like seawater and sunscreen, which wasn’t pleasant, but Zuko didn't mind it either. He liked being able to tell that they were still by his side, even if he couldn’t feel them pressed up against his side.

Aang wanted to turn on the TV, apparently not tired enough even though his fingers were wrinkled from the amount of swimming he did, and Katara chastised him, telling him that they should all sleep. She wrestled the remote out of his grip, even though Zuko told her it was okay for them to stay up for a few more minutes at least.

He didn't know if it was because she was too tired herself to stay up, or she just wanted some peace and quiet together, but once she quieted Aang down a little, they all agreed that it might be best to rest. She was going to be the one to drive on the way home, anyway.

Earlier, Zuko had offered to drive on the way back, but Aang and Katara insisted that they would take care of it. He started to wonder if they just didn't like his driving. Katara did like to be the one in control, and she was probably the best at driving out of all of them anyway, so he dropped the idea.

He was about to drift off when Aang said, rather nonchalantly, “I love you,” and although he didn't specify who, they all knew it was directed at both of them.

“Love you, too.” Katara echoed back lazily, and they didn't expect Zuko to answer back-- in fact, they assumed he had fallen asleep a while ago.

That wasn’t true, though. He was suddenly shocked at the love in his heart, and was honestly embarrassed that he had objected to this trip at first. Feelings threatened his heart to beat out of his chest.

"I love you." It was harder to say this time, maybe because he meant it more, or maybe because he didn't want to get used to it. He could feel their excited reactions from either side of him, and if he wasn’t exhausted already, he would kiss them until he was.

Zuko could still smell the faint scent of seawater on them when he woke up.

#zutaraang #mari writes

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

Text

Winner’s Curse Ch. 24

“This looks good, djinn,” Antiquam smiled, looking almost human if the man hadn’t had a arrogant smirk accompanying his words. Or the demeaning way he never referred to her by name. He was like all the rest of the mortal world viewing her as a wish ATM.

Worst, his wishes no doubt would not be selfish but he would also use them to bring pain to others. A more vile kind of master than the average greedy mortal.

“That’s not going to happen. He is not your master.” Jordan reminded herself even as she felt his eyes boring into the back of her head as she heated up his beakers.

Yeah, as if having to be referred to her by what she was, wasn’t humiliating enough. He was asking her to use her phenomenal cosmic powers to heat up his magic objects and potion beakers.

Actually all the villain heads were using her for menial tasks. She was officially Jade’s property but Jade still had to show her loyalty to the Coven and lend her out. Not for actual wishes but just her powers.

So she had to turn ashes to gold for Zevon, conjure up multiple mirrors for Mother Gothel and Queen Grimhilde, and conjure up the rare elemental material needed for Maleficent to recreate her staff.

Each task filled her with disgust, for fulfilling the slave-like labor that genies were known for, what she had always feared she’d end up. It also filled her with dread because each item was further helping the Coven with their spells needed for the invasion.

Except Zevon’s gold, the guy just really wanted to roll around ontop a pile of coins.

But all of that was bearable compared to working under Antiquam’s eyes.

The others had allowed Jade to be in the room, acknowledging that she was the owner. But Antiquam didn;t trust his aunt one bit, and ordered out of the room since he was a “master sorcerer” and didn’t need oversight by a “petty thief.”

Jade had fought with him but eventually relented to going back to her room. Jordan couldn’t fault her exactly. They all had a cover to maintain and with Antiquam already questioning Jade’s rottenness and loyalty, she had to bow out.

At least Jade had full possession of her lamp and was loitering in the hallway in case of emergency. Small comfort that was. Antiquam wouldn’t be able to force her to do something she didn’t want to, but she’d rather avoid an incident entirely.

And while Jade was amiable enough, Jordan just didn’t trust her as much as she would trust say.. Calix or Aziz.

Aziz.

The thought of him pressed down on her like a fist against her spine.

It had been only two days but she missed him.

Not that she wasn’t still angry at him. She was. She was still very very angry at him. Allah whenever she thought of how he said he only tolerated her presence for her mgic, she wanted to burn down a wall. Damnit, hwo dare he lie to her all their lives and make her think he cared about her!

That’s what hurt the most. That even though she frankly distrusted everyone else, and believed no one was to be trusted to love her for herself until after five years of vetting, Aziz was proof that there was one person who was friends with her on her own merits. They just clicked and that was something wish greed or mortal selfishness couldn’t hide.

But he was just like the rest of them.

She was all alone now. The only one who wouldn’t lie to her would be her parents because they had jno ulterior motive for wishes being genies themselves.

And probably Aladdin and Jasmine, but they were like her parents. She couldn’t hang out with them like she did with Aziz, that’d be awkward.

There was Calix, but he didn’t have the same history with her as Aziz did. They couldn’t talk behind people’s backs in Arabic and he know about family pranks and the trials of Auradon Prep.

Aziz filled such a vital and specific place in her life… she could never replace it.

She was going to feel alone forever.

And she wasn’t even trapped inside her lamp like her parents were.

But she would be if the Coven had their way.

Even though Uma said her plan was fool proof, Jordan had doubts. But it wasn’t like she could voice them. She had given up her leadership willingly, she couldn’t change her mind. Especially since she had no plans or suggestions of how to succeed on her own.

She just had to trust Uma and play the powerful sidekick.

The weight on her spine pressed down even more and she paused from heating the beakers to put her head in her hands. Already a migraine was coming on from how much her life sucked.

She knew it was for the best, but Allah it sucked. She had taken this mission because she had thought it would be her chance to become a hero saving all of Auradon, and no one would ever refer to her as just wish fulfilment. She would have substance, she would be seen as brave and heroic, admired for her, not her magic.

And when she had given up her leadership to Uma, playing into the trope of being a bigger person and accepting that Uma would be the one to save them all, Jordan had thought that if she embraced her role asma genie. Be like her parents as everyone expected, be zany and upbeat.

She gave up after five minutes. Well thirty minutes. But a good portion of it, she was drunk. Being sober and upbeat did not come naturally to her, and the thought of fake smiling for the rest of her life made the rest of her hangover nasua come up.

Forever was a long time, and though she knew she was going to experience the unfathomable longness of forever, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. And the thought of being upbeat and wacky for vile masters--She actually wished a muktar would come slithering around the corner to kill her.

But here she was, playing her worst imaginable future. A genie. A slave to a villain. Nothing more than a toy for Antiquam to exploit and…

Jordan paused in her internal monologue to realize that her nightmarish imagining of being Antiquam’s plaything felt vivid. Too vivid as she felt a finger play with her breasts, caressing despite the clothing that layed between her bare skin and his hands.

The weight on her spine was not only heavy but was taking on a piercing sensation, crawling up each vertebrae and her legs felt numb. A sensation she heard described but never felt as a genie she just didn’t get cramps like mortals do.

“Wha-” she croaked, her throat constricted, and like a needle sewing two threads together, her lips sealed.

“You think I need a lamp to control you, djinn? Sure, getting your lamp would have made things easier. However, since you insist on doing things the hard way, I had to look up muhktar geniee-killing manual. The cream I put on you is supposed to paralyze you for a few minutes, since a few minutes is all one needs to kill. Lucky you, I need you for other things,” Antiquam purred, running his hands under her shirt.

Jordan tried to speak again, but a gasp was all she managed. The rest of her body was becoming numb, filled with the acute pins and needles.

She didn’t want to embrace this. She didn’t want to follow the path of her parents. Not like this. Her mind screamed but her body wouldn’t obey. She couldn’t move beyond sliding down to the ground because her legs weren’t holding her up.

“I won’t kill you,’ Antiquam straddled, locking his legs by her hips, and loomed over her so the chandelier’s light gave her a view of his silhouette but none of his mocking features.

His fingers creeped up to her throat with the same, uneasily sensual caress before tightening, “I won’t kill you, but I can.”

He tightened, pressing on her larynx, another gasp was the only thing audible though she could feel the gurgle.

“I can kill you. When you’re my genie, if disobey me or try to swindle me in any way, you better remember this moment. Remember how this hurts,” he pressed down harder, squeezing her throat. Inch by inch, losing space for air to come through. She saw blurred edges and more gurgles and panic bubbled up her throat but wouldn’t be heard.

So this is what it is like to almost die?

Antiquam leaned closer, his features still indistinguishable beyond his gleaming amber eyes and too white smile, but Jordan wouldn’t have gotten any clear view anyway for the rest of the world was growing fuzzier, “Remember how this hurts, because I will make torture a thousand times worse, and you’ll wish I had-”

Whatever Antiquam was about to threaten next was cut off by a thud. Antiquam’s body was suddenly removed from ontop of her, his weight gone though Jordan was still too numb to notice the difference.

She sluggish turned her head to the side like a drunk, her vision clearing to see Jay wrestling Antiquam in a flurry of long hair and robes and pounding his head against the cold stone ground until the man stopped moving.

Jordan stared, wondering if the stillness was another sign of death or if he was unconscious. A new numbness crowded her head. She was in shock a vague rational point of her mind suggested. But all she could do was stare at the unmoving tan fingers that moments ago were squeezing the breath out of her.

“Jordan, you ok?” Jay leaned over her, breathless and slightly blood-splattered but in this moment with the chandelier lights iver him, he looked like a divine hero.

“De-” Jordan croaked, a little feeling creeping into her fingers.

“He’s not dead, just unconscious,” Jay said stiffly, his concern replaced by a poker face, “I’ve never killed.”

Jordan ignored Jay’s defensiveness, trying to roll her wrist and slowly the rest of her limbs from its temporary paralysis.

The door creaked and Jade, Uma and Aziz peeked in with Jade triumphantly whispering, “I knew I heard voices.”

“Are you okay?” Jay asked again.

Jordan sat up, hesitantly touching her arms, savoring the fact that she could feel herself and not just the numbness. She can feel her fingers touching her bicep, Jay straddling her.

Straddling her so similar to Antiquam.

How can she be in this situation again? Why was this her destiny?

To be used and used. To have the possibility of free will and an independent personality like a human but never actually have that choice. To always be the sidekick or enslaved prize in the story while Vks like Jay get to be the hero!

No, no way. Even though she couldn’t stop him from being the hero if Auradon once again, she wasn’t going to give him thanks for it. She hadn’t asked for him to save her.

No, no she hadn’t. Jordan thought as her mind began to rationalize and justify her anger towards Jay. If he hadn’t interrupted, she would have saved herself. She would have broken the cycle of being a used thing.

But no, it was people like Antiquam and Jay that kept her in the position of a sidekick and a genie toy.

“Yeah right I’m fine. I just saw you viciously attack Antiquam like an animal!” Jordan scooted away from him, with a wobbly attempt to stand.

“Hey, I just saved your life!” Jay yelled, “You hate me and I still saved you from Antiquam. What does that make me? Oh, right the hero!” “You’re a VK!” “You’re the asshole who can’t give me a second chance!”

“You stole my lamp!” Jordan yelled. She knew the truth. He was still the son of Jafar after all. He didn’t want to change, and he wasn’t going to, no matter how many people he saved. “That was two years ago, get over it!” “You still steal. You still want-” “Oh Allah, Jordan, get over yourself and apologize to him.” Aziz interrupted.

“You stay out of this,” Jordan hissed, refusing to look at Aziz. She knew if she did, the unwanted lump in her throat would well up with the betrayal she felt that Aziz was only agreeing with Jay because he hated her now.

“See, even he agrees with me,” Jay pointed out victorious, though his face was incredulous at the support, “And he hates me as much as you.” “I don’t hate you,” Aziz protested.

“Don’t act like the good guy. You do! You two are against me all the time for no reason. I’m good now but nothing I do will ever change your mind.” “Oh please. You haven’t been trying to change this whole time. The first time I saw you, you were in FG’s office for stealing. Sorry but it takes a little more than a few months to make someone trust a person who bragged about being the princes of lies.” Aziz scoffed

“I saved Auradon from Maleficent and Uma! That proves enough!” Jay defended

“You only did it because you lived in Auradon too.” Jordan rolled her eyes.

“I. Saved. You. Now.” Jay cried with frustration.

“Jordan, he’s right, thank him,” Aziz repeated to her though Jordan chanced a look to see he was seething too.

“I don’t need you to defend me,” Jay snarled.

“Tajeal min Alsaeb 'an Takun Bijanibik,” (You make it hard to be on your side) Aziz said to himself.

A glimpse of agreement and familiarity returned, and Jordan added in Arabic, “la yumkinuk 'iijra' taghyir ghyr shareiin,” (You can’t make a bastard change).

They shared a knowing smile, something akin to their old rapport returning when Jay, of course, ruined things as usual.

“See this is exactly what I mean. You literally are talking about me to my face.” Jay said.

“Sorry, your dear old Dad didn’t teach you anything but to lie and steal,” Jordan said sarcastically while Aziz chimed, “We invited you to come to Agrabah. You could learn about your heritage if you really wanted to.” “I’d rather stay here than go to Agrabah with you,” Jay shot back

“Wow, nice comeback. The feeling’s mutual.” Aziz shot back

“Like you’re the king of comebacks,” Jordan switched targets, a new rush of irritation from the intrusion of Aziz’s comments in what was supposed to be a fight between her and Jay. After all, if he didn’t want her meddling around in his life, he should give her the same courtesy.

“Just like you’re the goddess of congeniality,” Aziz retorted.

“Why, why am I the one cursed with being shoved with you too. Mal thinks Audrey is the worst. No, you two are the worst!” Jay pulled at his hair as if he wanted to tear it out. Jordan shared the feeling which made Jordan even more furious. She didn’t want to share anything with Jay.

“Nadhil,” She spat.

“Alqawl aleahira” Aziz glared at her.

And Jay let loose the little arabic he did know. All curses.

“Guys, people,” Uma came into the fold between Jordan barely noticed the blue dreads in her view. All she saw was red, and imagined her tongue like burning cat o’ nine tails whipping Aziz and Jay with her worlds. Adding literal heat to their explosive argument.

Steam began to rise from the cement blocks, and Jordan rationally knew they were blowing their cover by being so loud but she didn’t care. These two annoyances had been the source of so much unease and anger and sadness the past month, she wanted them to hurt just as badly.

These foolish stupid mortals who neber had real problems. Never were a slave to a lamp. Just a slave to their greed and selfish desires, using her however they want.They were never the victim of someone like Antiquam. Their pain was barely comparable to hers. She was the one who deserved to be angry.

Uma shoved Jordan and Jay apart, her back toward Aziz, but they all continued yelling. “I’ll handle this,” Calix’s voice whispered, gently pulling Uma away and a cloud of blue mist swirled around them all.

Picking them up and spinning faster and faster like a tornado until they dropped down against the gold walls.

The gold walls of her lamp.

#winner’s curse #chapter twenty four #disney descendants #my fanfic #my fanfiction #antiquam #aziz #jay #jordan #uma #calix #jade #tw: attempted assault

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colascriptura · 3 years

Text

One must imagine the squirrels happy

Wrestling With God And The Idea Of God has, in recent months, become less like convincing myself that Christianity is true, and more like wondering if it's even possible. I had almost come to the view that evolution just could not be reconciled with Christianity at all, and yet as I started to write about it, the problem seemed to vanish.

Evolution leads to nature and human society possessing -- very deep within them -- a constant battle for inclusive fitness; leading to war, conquest, predation, sexual selection and rejection, status games, rape, genocide, bullying, murder, slander, jaywalking, and so on.

One is therefore tempted to see evolution, the blind mad idiot god, as a sort of demiurge that we might be saved from by aligning ourselves with Christ. Alternatively, if one recalls passages claiming that Satan is god of this world then one may identify the evolutionary process with him. Problem is, Christian orthodoxy more-or-less requires us to see creation as the good work of God. The old-fashioned view is that there was no death or suffering until the fall of Adam and Eve. However, glancing briefly at Genesis 3, I don't think that's actually asserted in the text. The officially announced punishments are rather more limited.

If one ignores tradition and just reads the text, fitting it into evolution becomes less challenging than I had expected. We can accept that there was death and suffering before humanity, as long as this state of affairs doesn't seem evil to us.

What then is the moral status of the pre-Anthropocene world? If one disbelieves in animal consciousness then the question evaporates, but otherwise nature, with its predation and disease and starvation, may seem too horrible to contemplate. But I am not so sure. When I watch a little prey animal, like a squirrel, running around the garden, it seems alert and anxious, but not miserable and not filled with existential dread. One must imagine the squirrels happy.

If the squirrel gets eaten by a fox, the fox does not hate it, but simply requires its atoms for something else. There is no malice, no evil, and only a short period of suffering. At the risk of sounding like some sort of hippie, we could cautiously suggest that the value of the natural world might be net positive, and therefore, not inconsistent with the general goodness of the Creator. The arrival of humanity may indeed represent some sort of Fall, and so Christian orthodoxy could be basically correct after all.

TLDR: Creation good, maybe. Why didn't I think of this before?

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cas-lost-grace · 5 years

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Prompt - Dean fake dates Castiel cause he's sick of girls asking him out

I got this prompt a long time ago and tbh I didn´t like it very much at first. But then I read it again and got an idea I fell in love with.

HS!AU, fake boyfriends, angst and fluff, warning for homophobia, 5.4 K

AO3

"I hate it."

"Come on,Cas-"

"Don’t call methat, it’s not my name."

"Alright, Castiel,just consider it for a moment, please."

"There’s nothingto consider here, it’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard."

Dean lets out a heavysigh and he seems like he’s giving up. It’s not a good expression on him,Castiel realizes, he looks much better with his smug grin on.

"Fine, let’s gothrough your plan again. You want me to fake-date you so you get rid of thecrowds of girls that are throwing themselves at your feet every day."

Dean rolls his eyes."There are no crowds and they aren’t throwing themselves at me, but yeah,I want girls to stop asking me out."

"Why?"

"It’s not as pleasantas movies make you believe."

"Why don’t youjust pick one and actually date her?"

"I don’t likeanyone like that and I don’t think I’d find someone who’d fake with me."

"So you picked me.Because I’m the only openly gay guy here."

Dean shrugs one shoulder."Yeah? And because I thought you aren’t an asshole."

Castiel narrows hiseyes. "How flattering."

"There will bebenefits for you too."

"Like what?"

"I saw Gordonpushing you against the lockers yesterday. And I’m pretty sure the bruise onyour chin isn’t from falling on steps either," Dean says. Cas touches thetender spot on his chin involuntarily.

"You want toprotect me? Do you realize you’ll need to protect yourself? The moment you comeout, fake or not, you’re gonna become a target too."

"I can deal withthat," Dean grins and squares his shoulders. He’s in the wrestling team,he can fight for himself. He could fight for Castiel too if he allows it.Castiel tilts his head in consideration.

"What else?"he asks and Dean’s grin brightens as he senses that his negotiation is goingwell.

"You walk toschool every day, right? I can drive you."

"I likewalking."

"Oh god, nowyou’re just being difficult."

"What if peopledon’t believe it? What if you will have to prove that you’re really datingme."

"You mean likekiss you in front of everyone?"

Castiel nods.

"I’m fine withthat as long as it’s not a problem for you."

The idea of kissingDean Winchester makes Castiel a little nauseous but not for the reasons Deanthinks.

"I still think it’sa stupid idea," Castiel says, his voice weak.

"But you’re goingto give it a shot?"

"If we go ona fake date, and we should do that for credibility, you pay."

"Of course!"Dean almost squeals. "Is that a yes? Are you my new fake boyfriend?"

Upon seeing Dean’selated expression, Castiel can’t help himself but smile. "Yes, I’m yournew fake boyfriend."

"Great! I’ll pickyou up tomorrow at seven-thirty and drive you to school, alright?"

"Alright."

____

"Hi, babe, Ibought you a coffee," Dean says the moment Castiel opens the door of hisridiculous car.

"You don’t have tocall me that when no one’s watching," Cas grumbles and takes the paper cupfrom him.

"I’m getting intothe role," Dean replies as he reverses from the driveway.

Castiel takes a sip ofhis coffee and wonders if Dean knew he doesn’t function in the morning withoutat least two cups.

"I kinda expectedyou to change your mind," he admits.

Dean frowns. "Iwould lie if I said I wasn’t nervous, but I’m also kinda excited? It’s like aroleplaying game, isn’t it?"

Castiel shakes hishead. Dean apparently doesn’t know what he’s getting into, but he’s not goingto warn him. He deserves to experience it on his own for the stupid idea he’sgot.

He blinks in surprisewhen they arrive at the school’s parking lot and Dean cheerfully exclaimsthey’re here. It takes him half an hour when he walks.

"Okay, gameon," Dean says and slaps Castiel’s thigh before he gets out of the car.

Castiel feels the eyeson him immediately and he already hates himself for agreeing to this.

He hunches hisshoulders to make himself less visible, but at the same time, Dean throws hisarm around his shoulders and whispers into his ear in a way that must seemintimate.

"Relax, they’rejust curious."

Castiel’s heart isbeating faster than is healthy but it’s hard not to relax into Dean’s warmtouch. He’s wearing his team jacket with the school’s logo, but he smells ofleather and body spray. It’s quite pleasant, definitely something Castiel couldget used to.

He already knows he’sgoing to hate himself, but it’s too late to back out because they’re alreadyentering the main hall and people are noticing them.

"Hey, Winchester,what are you doing with the fag?"

Castiel’s heart stops,but Dean’s grin doesn’t falter, his grip on Castiel stays tight.

"I’m dating him.And if you call any of us a fag again, I’m gonna break your neck."

The guy laughs andholds his hands up in a placating gesture and walks past them. Cas breathesagain.

Dean leads them toCastiel’s locker first. He leans his back against the row as he waits for Casto grab his things. That’s when a girl in cheerleader uniform approaches him.

"Hi, Dean. Did youconsider my offer?"

Dean gives her a boredlook. "Yeah, I did, but I really don’t think my boyfriend Cas here wouldappreciate you sucking my cock. What do you say, babe?"

It takes Castiel amoment to realize he’s supposed to say something. He straightens and looks atthe girl.

"I’d definitelynot appreciate that."

Her cheeks are red andshe’s staring at him with utter confusion before she runs away mutteringsomething incoherent.

Dean chuckles softly.

"You’re enjoyingthis," Cas notes as he slams his locker shut.

"Just alittle."

They walk to Dean’slocker.

"What the hell areyou doing?" Cas asks when he sees what Dean’s pulling out of his backpack.

Dean doesn’t hesitateand slams the bi pride sticker on his locker.

"I’m queer now,aren’t I?" he says as he proceeds to add a rainbow flag. "Is it okayto use queer?" he frowns.

"Yeah, itis," Castiel mutters staring at Dean’s new decorations. "You... youreally prepared yourself."

Dean shrugs. "Ithink things through. I’m not just a stupid jock, you know?"

"I never thoughtthat," Castiel mumbles, but Dean doesn’t hear him because of a petiteredhead slamming into him.

"Hi, bitch! Youdidn’t reply to my text!"

"I wanted you tosee for yourself," Dean says rubbing his shoulder that hit the lockerswhen she pushed him. "This is Cas... um, Castiel."

"Nice to meet you,Cas. I’m Charlie," she says offering Castiel a hand. He squeezes it.

"Nice to meet you,Charlie."

Still holding his hand,she turns to Dean and stage-whispers: "He’s dreamy."

He might be mistaken,but Castiel thinks he notices a pink tint on Dean’s cheek before Charlie dragsthem both down the hallway talking animatedly about a game night they’re bothinvited to.

"Will you join usfor lunch?" Charlie asks when their paths are about to part.

Castiel looks at Deanand feels something flutter in his stomach when he sees his hopeful expression.

"Sure,"Castiel answers and huffs out a laugh when she squeals and hugs him.

"Have a niceday," he says to Dean.

"You too." Hehesitates for a brief moment but then he leans down and kisses Castiel on thecheek.

The fluttering in Cas’ stomachintensifies. He stands there, dumbstruck, as the two walk to their classroombefore he enters his own.

Read the rest on AO3

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel au #destiel oneshot #spncreatorsdaily #hs!au #fake boyfriends #angst and fluff #first kiss #mine #filled prompts #Anonymous

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