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romanoffsbish · 2 years

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Unwelcome Surprise…

Natasha Romanoff x FemHill!Reader

Carol Danvers x Maria Hill

Lessons Learned (Part 2)

Natasha’s an idiot, Tony’s an even bigger one, and Y/N’s an emotional wreck who needs a little help from her friends.

SMUT | 18+ | MINORS DNI ‼️

Angsty as fuck!!! Gaslighting... Abandonment.

18+ !! Heavy Smut!!

"Hate" fuck!!!, Oral/Face riding(Reader), Degrading commentary, Fingering(Both), Breast/Thigh fixation/marking(!!)

Tony Stark, total genius to the world, but ever the idiot to anyone who actually knows him. He's never been one for minding his own business, so when he stumbled upon a random woman who shared a namesake with his teammate he sent her an invite to a Stark party.

"Y/N Romanoff... Let's see if you're as hot as your potential relative..." The billionaire murmurs to himself while he tinkers with his damaged suit, and instructs Friday to send the invitations to the 'Post Deadly Mission Party'.

———

—

You stepped out to collect the mail while your three year old incessantly babbled your ear off, mussing your hair up with his animated hands, as he sat comfortably upon your hip.

"Is that right?" You gasp enthusiastically in an effort to encourage him as you stand on your porch steps and sort through your mail.

Laura stepped outside to wave your way, but you were busy glaring at the envelope in your hand, and then your son stilled in your arms once he saw Nate.

"Mama!!! 'Loot!!" Mason squealed, and you swiftly let his squirming form down once you spotted his built in bestfriend eagerly waiting for him.

"Any word from Nat yet?" Laura questions you with a sympathetic look and you shrug, passing an envelope her way then proceeded to sort through the rest of the mail.

"If she thinks inviting me to a party with her team is going to make me forgive her after three months of silence then she's surely mistaken... Here I am, worried sick about her, and she's apparently living it up with her pals."

"I thought she wanted to keep you all a secret?" Laura—ever the skeptic, states with a perplexed expression.

"Yeah, she's clearly just all over the place Laur'... Leaving me all alone for months at a time, then making me feel like I'm the one in the wrong when I ask for just the slightest bit more of her time. Then Lily hears us arguing, and winds up resenting me come morning when Nat's gone off on a mission to escape me. It's just, I don't think she even wants me anymore."

"Y/N/N, she's never exactly been good at expressing herself, but anyone with eyes could see how much she loves you..."

"Yeah, that's still not an excuse for treating me like I'm easily expendable. This just wasn't where I saw myself, you know? Tucked away on a farm, raising our kids while she runs away from me any chance she gets. I dreamed of traveling the world, broadening my horizons and experiencing the world in all its glory. Then I gave all of that up for this shared dream of having a family together, but she's not living up to her end, and it's turned into a nightmare.”

"Do you ever tell her any of this?"

"All the time..." You sigh out, running your hands through your hair to try to air out your sweaty scalp.

"She either tries to screw me into silence, or gaslights me into feeling bad for making her feel 'guilty' for keeping our world safe."

Laura's face reddens at your candid statement, and you sheepishly smile her way, then the two of you just laugh it off.

"Y/N, just go to the party, try to fix this, because I can't keep watching you mope around anymore. Take the extended olive branch, and if she doesn't work with you, wack her over the head with it." She muses, then you chuckle at her attempt to cheer you up.

"What about Lily and Mason?"

"Sounds like it's time for a sleepover." She shouts in mock excitement and you playfully roll your eyes before going to prepare over the night bags.

"Plus, I'm sure you'll get to see Maria, who I'm certain must miss you." She adds on, which is the icing on the cake because you missed your older sister beyond normalcy.

Lily was more than pleased to find out that she got to get away from you for a night, collecting her bag without so much as a goodbye. Mason was giddy as can be when you had told him that he got to sleep with Nate in his car bed. However, he cried and tried to chase your car down when he realized it meant you were going to be gone.

——

Natasha just got back from a grueling mission of her own, one that had spanned the length of three months. Deep undercover missions used to be her absolute favorite thing, but then you and the kids came along and now she detests them. In the moment accepting the mission felt right, after the horrible fight she had started got out of hand, she just needed to get out of the house. Watching the pain swirling around your eyes had hurt her immensely, and to know it was her doing nearly broke her completely.

—

As you settle into your hotel for the night you dump your bag onto the bed and curse your wife for the last minute invite. She couldn't just call you to invite you—no, she sends mail to your farm that only gets deliveries twice a week; the supposed extended olive branch seems more like a brittle twig at the moment.

You're currently staring at the clothes scattered across the bed, torn between wearing a skirt with a crop top, or the fancy dress you'd pointlessly purchased to wear for your tenth anniversary last month. No matter how much you two fight, she'd never missed any of your important milestones; this time around she did though, and she did it without even a text message thrown your way. Your 'Wish you were here, I love you Nat...' had gone unread and your heart nearly shattered when it did. Nerves start to overtake you as you second guess your decision to even go.

Why should it always be you making the effort to fix things?

Maybe this time you could leave her waiting on you, so she could know how it felt, but then you'd have to lie to Laura, and there's no getting away with that. So you scream into a pillow before settling on the dress then heading off to take a shower, hopeful it will calm your nerves.

While putting the deep forest green halter dress on you'd been admiring the way your body looked, having missed being able to have a reason to dress up. The sound of your phone pinging pulled you out of your feelings though. Opening the phone you saw it was a set of messages from Laura with attached images, your collective brood were lying under a pillow fort in the living room surrounded by snacks. Wide smiles upon their faces, then a simple:

*Get your assassin, and bring her home. 😉*

With an eye roll and quick reply sent you slipped your phone into your bag then set off to hail a cab so that you'd arrive fashionably late to the event. Stepping into the building had left your skin crawling at the sheer size of the guest list. Celebrities were scattered all around the room, but your eyes were too busy searching for your wife to even acknowledge them.

After what felt like years of searching you'd found her situated behind the bar, hand over her coworkers while she laughed at something she had said. Despair had been what hit you first, having always been worried you weren't enough for the assassin, even with the constant reassurances. Once your wife parted from her place you'd approached the bar and took the vacant stool next to the woman.

"Scotch on the rocks please."

The bartender that had just arrived nodded, then the blonde beside you turned to you with a curious gaze, subsequently opening her mouth and instantly falling into your trap.

"Rough day?"

"More like rough year." You bitterly chuckle out while taking a stiff drink from your glass, allowing the liquid to really burn.

"Care to elaborate?" She asks in a teasing tone, clearly looking for the gossip of the century.

"Nothing special really, just a smidge of trouble in paradise. You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not entirely sure why they even call it paradise. Marriage is more like when you get a new job, heart overflowing with hope, and you're thinking it's going to be all you dreamed of. Then a few months have gone by, and your boss grows horns as they usually do, and you find yourself in a new version of hell."

"Jesus..." She snorts, her calloused hands instinctually falling to your exposed back in an attempt to comfort you.

The gesture sends shivers down your spine, causing your heart to twinge with guilt, turning in a kind attempt to remove her touch from your skin.

"Enough about me, how about you tell me about you? I don't want to scare you off from love, I promise it's not all bad."

"Oh, my dear girl, I am but a hopeless sap, so you're not going to scare me off that easily. Actually I'd sat down here to collect a drink for my girlfriend and I before an angry woman with an uncanny resemblance to her had cut me in line."

"Carol?!" You gasp, and the women smirks at the way the realization washes over your face.

"Yeah, this isn't exactly how I thought we'd meet, regardless it's indeed lovely to meet you. I'm guessing Natasha's in the dog house then? I'd heard Maria ripping her a new one before she had took off on that undercover mission, but I've learned to not ask when it came to you."

"Yeah, she came home after months away to pick a fight, then took off on a mission with no word to me, which in turn caused her to miss our anniversary and son's third birthday. Then apparently she made it home intact, but chose to go partying."

"In her defense—not to say she deserves it, but she did only just land two hours ago, and before she could get her stuff out of lockup Stark swept her off in the direction of her room here telling her attendance was mandatory and that he had a surprise for her."

That couldn't be right, because if she was gone until today then who the fuck would've sent the invitation to you?

Carol saw the panic written all over your face, concern immediately consuming her as she saw you struggling to breathe, and she was quick to tap her necklace three times before she tried to figure out what was wrong with you.

Maria had been sat on a couch, scrolling through her old text messages from you, admiring the pictures of your kids while Natasha sat beside her with her head in her hands.

"'Ria, I can't be here any longer, you need to help me escape..."

"Tasha, you're a trained spy, and a level 8 S.H.I.E.L.D agent, if you wanted out you'd be gone. Stop pretending you're not terrified of my sister, because as someone who grew up with her I honestly think you should be."

"It's just, the mission was only supposed to be a month... I was so angry in the moment, but then I went and missed two major milestones. They're the one thing I ever did right, and now I might lose her and the family I'd dreamed of all because I never felt deserving of it."

"That's a shitty cop out Natasha, whether you felt worthy enough or not, you had time before you started a family with her. Y/N's dreams were always so vibrant growing up, through all the hell we'd been put through she had still remained so bright. Never once did she dream about motherhood, but once she met you her dreams evolved to fit yours, and all she wanted was to give you that family. You royally fucked up here, so be prepared for the consequences."

Natasha went to rebut, but she simply fell short in terms of a comeback, and then Maria was jumping to her feet with her fingers twiddling with her necklace.

"Carol needs me, I have to go."

"I'm coming too."

Maria said nothing in support of this, but she didn't stop her from following either.

—

Tony was bouncing on his feet like a petulant child on Christmas morning once Friday had informed him that you'd arrived. A nano tracker strategically placed onto your invitation so that he'd be able to track your arrival, and now he was about to put you into the direct spotlight.

Never once did it cross the playboy's mind that this could be a bad idea, because had you really just been a random civilian, well at least now you could say you met the Avengers, right?

Before Maria, and the sulking redhead trailing behind her could reach Carol to help with her unknown dilemma the lights in the room had shut off, then one singular ray illuminated the party stage and the drunken man stood on it.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and folks of all creeds, I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my reactor for making it out tonight. This is the first time in over three months that all us Avengers were able to be in the same room together, and I just think that's worth an elaborate celebration." He greets the crowd, receiving a gentle roar of cheers that he allowed to die down before continuing.

"Now, before I allow this kick-ass party to resume I'd like to make a special introduction. Agent Romanoff...."

He paused for dramatic effect, spotlight landing upon the former assassin, causing every hair on her body to stand at attention in nervous anticipation for what the idiot on the stage had planned for her.

"When I was tinkering around with my suit's, and running my weekly scan of all of our surnames through databases Friday stumbled upon something rather interesting..."

At the sound of his words both Natasha and Maria's heads turned to take in his smirking face, their expressions grim at the obvious thought.

"So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you all to a Miss Y/N Romanoff! How about we see if there's any resemblance to our redhead." He excitedly slurs into the microphone.

Before you could even begin to register his words over your dwindling panic you were being blinded by a rather bright light. This attention only spurred on another roll of panic, causing you to literally vomit up the granola bar you'd munched on this morning all over the floor before your sisters girlfriend feet.

"Okay, so apparently she's not a fan of the spotlight... My apologies honey..."

Tony holds off from gulping in front of the crowd at the sight of the women glaring daggers through him, he's not entirely sure what he'd done yet, but he knew that his life was very much on the line because of it.

"LET'S PARTY!!!" He shrieks in an attempt to reroute everyone's focus, then does his best to fade into the crowd that began jumping along to the music once more.

Natasha made a beeline for the bar, where she was now scooping you up like she'd done all those years back on your wedding night and simply carried you off to the closest private space; while Maria and Carol went after the idiot that quite literally put a target on your back and your safety at risk.

—

Natasha sat your sobbing form down on the couch, painfully watching you curl in on yourself as she herself paced around the room.

"Baby, what are you doing here? We had—."

"Don't call me that.." You reply venomously.

"Baby please, I know I messed up, but please don't shut me out."

Her pathetic pleads are met with your incredulous laughter.

"Shut you out? That's fucking rich coming from you, miss vow of fucking silence."

"Moya lyubov', please hear me out..."

Far too exhausted to fight anymore you simply hummed a broken tune, urging her to go on, while hugging yourself for comfort.

"Fury had said it was only supposed to be a month, and then when it was underway I was too deep to pull out when it got extended out. The whole time I was away I'd spent reflecting on that pointless fight I started with you. I'm so incredibly sorry for how I've been acting, not a day went by that I didn't cry over being away from you all."

Her fingers were nervously fidgeting as she took in a sudden shaky breath before continuing on.

"When our anniversary had hit I was an inconsolable wreck, unable to even complete my tasks for that day. The same mess occurring of me last week when Liam's birthday passed and I couldn't celebrate with my beautiful family. Moya lyubov', I'm going to take time off, Fury's approved me for an entire year, and of course I'm taking it so that we can all travel the world together. It'll be perfect, a dream come true."

Once she finished her pathetic attempt at an apology you were feeling an entire slurry of emotions. Three months ago, and this would've worked on you, but now you'd decided that she needed the reality check of a century. So, even if all you wanted to do was throw yourself into her arms after all these months you had to refrain. Natasha stared at you expecting you to melt into her open arms, but judging by the look in your eyes she knew it wasn't going to go in the direction that she'd hoped.

"Sorry can't fix those nights that I spent alone without comforting arms to hold me while I instead cried myself to sleep." You lightly choke out, failing miserably at containing your sadness, but within a moments notice the same sadness fuels your anger as you get everything off your chest.

"Or will it save me from those nights where I felt worthless, like when I messaged you on our anniversary and received nothing... You never told me it was a no contact mission, hell you didn't even tell me what you were doing at all. For all I know you were out fucking other women."

"Hey! You will not insinuate that I am a cheater! I would never..." Natasha interrupts, heart absolutely ripped to shreds at the notion, but the brokenness behind your shielded gaze has her quieting down once more.

"Nor the irreparable damages those fights have caused to our daughters view of me. She adores the ground you walk on, and all she ever sees is me driving you away. So then I find myself overwhelmed with the toddler who has formed an unhealthy attachment to my hip and the hatred thrown at me on the daily by Lily."

Natasha blinks in quick succession as your angry words come flying out, fighting off an onslaught of tears as she hears how her piss poor abilities to process her anger have somehow transferred over to your daughter

"So, Natasha, while you were crying over your own regrettable choice to run, I was left crying myself to sleep every night over every single mess your decisions had left in their wake. "

"I'm so sorry, please, I'll do anything to fix us... Let's go home, I'll hold you close just like you deserve. I'll talk to Lily—I'll fix this mess, I promise we'll have our happily ever after..."

"This might come as a surprise to you Nat, but that's just not how this is going to go. So long are the days where I just bend to your will, and forgive you in favor of a days worth of your time. You should go home though, collect our kids from Laura, maybe even spend some one on one time with them because lord knows they sure do miss you."

"And what about you?" She questions incredulously over the lump in her throat, tears starting to fall as it finally dawns on her that this will be harder than she thought, the easiness of fixing things is a way of the past.

"I'm sorry, but that's just not your concern." Your flat response comes out, shocking the woman to her core.

"You're the love of my life, the mother of my children and still my fucking wife so it definitely is my concern."

The anger she'd tried to hold at bay in lieu of a civil conversation was quickly getting the better of her—as per the course, the simple thought of you leaving her has the woman full on spiraling. Never had she imagined a reality where you weren't by her side, little did she want to acknowledge that was already the life you'd obviously grown accustomed to, the life she'd been forcing you to live.

"I'm not sure how true any of that is anymore Natasha..."

Something snaps in the shell of a woman sat before you at the words you spit out in the heat of the moment. One second she's crying on the ottoman, the next she's grabbing your hips, slamming you into a wall, and kissing you as if her life depended on it—which for her, it does. This is always her final tactic, if her words fail her which is almost always the case, she uses her mouth in other ways to change your mind.

The anger that had been festering within you for the last year and a half outweighs the lust. Turned on by her actions though, you choose to finally give her a taste of her own medicine, using her body as she's done to you countless times. Using your hands to brutally grip at her waist you move to shove her onto the couch with no care whatsoever.

Natasha gasps at the action, but her mind is too far gone to notice the look in your eyes is beyond the lust of the situation, it's a mix of so much: lust, rage, a desperate need for revenge, all fueled by a deep seeded hurt...

Lips meet with just as much force, your tongue forcing its way into her mouth, exploring the nearly forgotten territory, pulling needy whines from the redhead as your hips roll against her own as you bite down then suck upon her tongue. Natasha's hands work quickly to bunch up your dress, moaning against your lips as soon as she feels your bare cunt, clearly she's trying her hardest to regain a semblance of control here. It's to no avail though as you pull back from her lips, dragging her bottom lip out as you do.

"Tell me Natty, did you miss me?"

"Yes detka, I missed you so much." She groans, frantic in the way she is bucking her hips up, hands on yours to move you in time with her, creating the much needed friction, and showing you just how desperate for you she truly is...

"How much?" You coax out of her, wanting to feel the desperation in your bones before you give in to her; your dainty fingers trailing the expanse of her exposed arms, leaving behind a scattering of goosebumps in their wake.

"So, so much detka, I was fucking miserable. Spent so many nights alone, working my fingers through my folds but it never worked because it wasn't you..." She admits in a frustrated set of whimpers, lips desperately moving against your collarbones as she works to bite her marks into your supple skin.

Bitterly you chuckle while pulling back from her hold, her eyes confused at your sudden change in demeanor, but before she can start to overthink you're using your hands to shove her onto her back, then traveling up her body to straddle her face with your gorgeous thighs.

Natasha's always been weak for your thighs, she could truly spend hours between them; biting into the plush skin while teasing you; tightly gripping them whenever she has to force them to stay open when you're too sensitive to do it on your own. Many nights she'd even fall asleep with her face smushed against one, so it comes as no surprise when she's eagerly wrapping her arms around them.

"Don't fucking touch..." You growl out, swatting her hands away before lowering your dripping cunt onto her awaiting mouth.

Hand tangled within her short red locks you use your firm grip to stabilize yourself so that you can fuck yourself by means of her face, bouncing vigorously with only your pleasure in mind as you work yourself up to your climax. Drenching her face in your slick, using your hold on her head to angle her face just right to receive pressure upon your sensitive bundle. Loud moans filling the tiny room as your wife's muffled groans cause pleasurable vibrations against your lower lips.

Pangs of arousal being sent to her very own core at the idea of being used by you, no more than a means for your impending climax. Although she'd wanted nothing more than to touch you—to please you, it'd be a lie to say Natasha's head wasn't absolutely spinning from your newfound display of dominance.

When your movements began to get sloppy Natasha ignored your earlier warnings, and you were too fucked out to care. Gripping onto your thighs tightly, she was somehow pulling you even further against her face and using her tongue the way she knew you preferred it. Pulling you to the edge in the way only she ever could; your loud mewls evidence of that, and the sole reason for her slick covered thighs.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck...."

Natasha moans against your already sensitive core once the pit in your abdomen finally bursts, your hips stuttering as your abundant release rolls down her tongue, coating her throat and the majority of her face.

With her tight grip on your thighs she's able to flip you onto your back, face still buried in between your legs as she continues to relish in all your cunt has to offer; the smell of you beyond intoxicating, the insatiable need to taste you, the way that you're pulsing around nothing, and on how she plans to change that.

Her lips move to place open mouthed kisses upon your thighs, glistening love bites being left as she follows them up with her tongue, soothing your skin while collecting your slick. As she moves up your body her fingers play around your entrance, lightly tracing over it before suddenly thrusting three fingers into you as her lips attach to your perky nipple.

Her harshly sucking, and occasionally biting down has you arching your back, forcing even more of your breast into her mouth, and she's definitely not complaining; she'll take every last piece of you there is to offer.

Therein lies the problem...

Nearly forgetting yourself you allow your wife to worship your body the way she's done so many times before. Desperation for release driving the both of you, neither of you having really been fucked like this in nearly a year, because the nonstop fighting had always thrown a wrench in your love making plans.

Once her lips travel up, eventually landing upon your own everything seemed to slow down. Reality severely misconstrued as she pours every last ounce of her love into you, soft lips move against yours tenderly, while her fingers perfectly move within you with similar care, gliding effortlessly over your wet walls.

This new softness to her movements spurs on a sudden influx of emotions, fresh, hot tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes as she begins to melt your anger back into its original source of sadness. Natasha feels the sudden way in which you gasp between the blending of your lips, pulling back she hovers over you, observing the sadness in your expression, and her heart clenches at the clear understanding that this is on her.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you like this..." She whispers, slender fingers still continuing their same brutal pace, palming over your clit as she leans forward to kiss your forehead.

"I'm here... I'm not going anywhere..." She whispers in promise, fingers curling in a come hither motion as she continues to pump into you in the hopes that she can bring you to the edge of bliss—to love you through this pain.

Her words have the opposite effect though, serving more so as the reminder that had she just stayed none of this would be happening. Neither of you would be working this hard to repair what was never meant to be broken.

"I love you..."

Those intimate words end up falling from her lips at the exact same moment that your entire body spasms from beneath her, your second orgasm far more intense than the last—hitting you like a ton of bricks; eyes rolling to the back of your head, while your walls clench so tightly that they hold the woman's fingers hostage.

After the high has run its course your arched body collapses against the couch, but Natasha's stilled fingers remain inside you as she places wet kisses to your heated skin, repeatedly whispering 'I love you' with each one she lays.

Eyes shooting open the moment you feel her tears fall onto your cheek, cascading across your skin on its way to blend in with your own. Her pained gaze is intense once your eyes lock, you almost feel sorry for her, but the settled rage slowly begins to simmer again.

Who does she think she is crying like this?

Is she seeking your sympathy for a problem she herself manifested?

Fucking pathetic...

"I love you too..."

As soon as the raspy words leave your mouth she's slamming her lips to your own, you lazily reciprocate the passionate kiss, planning to let it go on until you feel you have the strength to flip the positions.

Saying those words to her was hard, it's not because they weren't true—of course they were, but because giving her this sense of false hope isn't something you're exactly big on. Natasha's always struggled with processing her feelings, hell, it's why you're here to begin with. However, you're not doing this forgive and forget shit anymore, you're going to stick to the original plan and give her back what she's repeatedly given you—a false sense of security.

Wrapping your legs around her waist, you quickly shift and cause the both of you to tumble off the couch and onto the carpet. Natasha groans at the impact, but quickly smiles as she looks up to see you smirking.

"Yeah... I guess I deserved that..." She playfully grumbles before reaching up to pull your lips back to her own, and sighs at the way you move against her with less reservations than before.

For a brief moment you pretend like it's all okay, because for a second it kinda feels like it is. Your hands are quick to remove her dress, eyes widening as soon as you're blessed with the sight of her gorgeous, voluptuous breasts, perfectly ready to be marked up.

Natasha's breasts to you are the equivalent of your thighs to her, and the redhead is more than aware of this as she plans to tease you. Hands groping at the easily moldable skin, pressing them up and tracing her calloused fingers over her nipples in an enticing manner, drawing a needy whimper from her own lips, and driving you absolutely crazy.

"Hands off!" You warn, gripping her wrists to throw her arms to the side of her body before leaning down to harshly bite into the plush skin.

"Fuck..." She shrieks as the pain instantly sets in.

"That's the plan..." You cockily murmur over the pert nipple in your mouth, happily sucking upon it while your hand begins its descent.

Fingers lightly dancing across her smooth skin as they travel down her body, within a moments time she is squirming under your touch as you graze your fingers over her panty covered slit.

"Shit, you're fucking soaked through Natty..." You gasp, finding it rather shocking how aroused she actually is, a subtle hint to you that your lovers apparently been truly holding out on how rough she actually likes it.

While continuing to absolutely destroy her breasts, your fingers push her panties to the side, swiftly sliding into her with no resistance, stroking her walls as you slowly build her up. Natasha's chest heaves from beneath you as your lips work to leave no skin untouched, and skilled fingers continue their ministrations from down below. With every new bite to her skin you feel as her walls flutter around you.

"Just can't control yourself, mindless fucking whore that you are..."

You darkly laugh out over the extremely loud squelching noises that are coming from between your wife's widespread legs as she enthusiastically meets your thrusts, your fingers continuing to be sucked into her dripping cunt.

"You're just so fucking needy..."

"Mhm..." Natasha hums, far too lost in the pleasure of it all to realize what it is you're actually saying.

Her eyebrows furrow, mouth falling open as strangled moans leave her, it's apparent that she's nearing her climax by the way her walls continue to clench around your digits. Fingers scissoring from within, applying pleasurable pressure against her walls to finally push her over the edge, and for a fleeting moment you allow her to enjoy it. Thoroughly enjoying the way that your name repeatedly flies out of her mouth in between a choked melody of curses.

"...I can't fucking do this anymore..."

Finally, you whisper the words that have been painfully etched into your brain for months; the last thing she'd said to you before she left. Abruptly you pull your fingers out of her, leaving her high ruined, and her eyes snap open as the realization washes over her.

"Detka wait!" She whimpers, scrambling to her feet on shaky legs, attempting to reach you but you're somehow already halfway out the door.

Your mask nearly crumbles as you hear the desperation in her voice, and if you were to turn to face her you're certain you'll crumble.

Which is exactly why you keep your body turned away from her as you mutter out a cryptic little goodbye.

You'll break down when you get to Maria's...

"Laura's sort of expecting us in the morning, and when she asks why I'm not there please feel free to tell her that the supposed olive branch was nothing more than a rotting twig."

Natasha crumbles in on herself when the door slams shut, her foreseeable reality bleak, and the agony that she feels quickly consumes her. She really thought it was all going to be okay, she'd make love to you like no other time before, and take a step back from Avenging, but it appears she was too late. Her sobs only seeming to increase the more she thinks about what a life without you would look like.

After hours of unending sobbing she finally picks herself up off the ground, straightens herself out, then hops onto her motorbike for the long journey "home" without a single look back. Nothing more than the harsh winds there to dry her tears now...

Only one thought on her mind as she recklessly weaves through traffic; there's no such house that could ever be a home without you presently in it...

——————————————

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belladonna-wright · 5 months

Text

November 26 – The Final Labor: Based on the final task for the labors, write an AU featuring all your characters in a role. Choose an AU, set out a list of goals for yourself based on tropes within that AU.

Starring

Hercules Kouros as 'the sexy secretary' The highly capable personal assistant who sees all and knows all at MI6, with a tantalising 'will they/won't they' relationship with 007 (who inexplicably features in scenes that have no call for him but round out what otherwise would have been only 2 scenes where they flirt with 007, and reminds us of how high stakes things are by fretting over 007).

Jeremy Johnson as Q, the Quartermaster. MI6's resident deus ex machina factory who is usually found signing things on clipboard handed to him by extras in labcoats, with his hands on his hips, or pushing his glasses up his nose, as 007 wise-cracks. Will speak lots of techno-babble and appear stern and unmoved by all proceedings, before shakily removing his glasses when it all finishes.

Wolfgang Amadeus as 'Wolf' the generic massive European henchman who has hardly any lines in the whole film but will need to do approximately 18 months of stunt training. Will re-appear after the audience presumed them dead in an earlier scuffle with 007, and then take part in the final high-stakes fight (ideally somewhere highly impractical like a narrow gantry over a 200ft drop or down the middle of a train corridor or something).

Special Guest Starring ...

Laura as L. The Nameless head of MI6. 007 is their favourite agent, but don't tell the others. Equal parts fond and exasperated, expect her to remind 007 of the critical geo-political stakes at play here!

and

Xuemei Song as Doctor Snow. The stylish and whip-smart villain of the piece with nefarious (if only ever very vaguely explained) plans. I'm so sorry Laur I borrowed her so I could make Wolf her henchman but also to make this incredibly dumb pun.

...

Jessica Wright returns as 007 in ...

Dr Snow.

Trigger Warnings: Guns, shooting, canon-typical fighting and violence, canon-typical objectification of office assitants, bad one-liners, the dog dies.

#swynwrimo #swynwrimolaura #listen I COULD have not done Bond again #but the only character I got this year is a gigantic henchman with an accent #how could I NOT do Bond again

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arkhamverse-central-blog · 5 years

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Hi Guys

I just wanted to let y’all know that I switched accounts! I am now @wretched-mischief. I’m still going to be posting Arkhamverse stuff there, but I’ll also be posting things from my other interests and I’m going to try to be better at making my own posts and interacting with you guys so please follow me over there if you want any more updates from me. I won’t be deleting this blog, but I won’t be posting on here anymore either.

#just wanted to let you guys know!#laur babbles

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whoreiaki-kakyoin · 2 years

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I deserve to be sandwiched between a couple cute anime men ok. It’s true. I’m tired of pretending that it isn’t.

#a Grave Injustice.#pretending Kakyoin made it to part five and that both my little animated boyfriends can coexist #all three of us have a flair for the dramatic. and all three of us have trauma and have so many walls up. gonna be the best polycule ever.#that last bit wasn’t even facetious/sarcastic I think we could do it #ok. tag babbling time over :) enjoy! reblog about your own little anime men. have fun #laur speaks!

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

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dating the armed detective agency’s medic

a/n: of course i have to write one for the ADA even though i’m a biased port mafia bitch. there’s a bit more characters here so i’ll try to keep each one short but still very fluffy and sweet <3

this man is always getting himself injured and even though agency has yosano, fukuzawa thought it would be a good idea to hire another medic who could deal with less life-threatening injuries

ofc dazai flirts with you the first chance he gets and every time he comes into your clinic

dazai: good morning my dear belladonna! the weather is beautiful today, but not as beautiful as you of course

you: YOUR ARM IS BROKEN PLEASE SIT DOWN

although as much as he likes to slightly mess with you, dazai genuinely enjoys coming to the clinic and being treated by someone like you

he likes observing your hands and how careful they are when they bandage his arm or that cute little scrunch of your brows when you’re bandaging his forehead

while on a mission, atsushi and kunikida go the extra length to protect dazai because they know you’re worried about him

and then one day dazai comes into your clinic again and instantly you think that something has happened

until he surprises you by bringing out a bouquet of flowers

‘if i get injured less on missions, would you let me take you out on a date?’

jokes on you though after you guys date dazai finds every excuse to visit you in the clinic

he’ll get papercuts on purpose just so he can get you to put a bandage on them

kunikida is annoyed because dazai they’re just papercuts jfc also please go back to work

seeing that you’re always concerned about his health and well-being, dazai finds himself making much less attempts cause he knows the stress it puts on you when you have to bandage him up after and make sure he’s alright

thanks to you our man is able to take care of himself a bit more

even though he is your boyfriend he’s still going to mess with you in any way he can

he’ll barge into your office claiming that his chest hurts because you didn’t give him a kiss that morning

also will highkey hug you from behind even if you’re treating another patient

the first time he meets you is for a physical exam check-up because it was required at the agency and he feels embarrassed at first seeing that the agency’s medic was gorgeous

atsushi was fresh out of the orphanage so of course he was quite malnourished and still had some injuries from his abuse

you had no idea who’d dare hurt such a sweet boy so you do your best to treat him and instructed atsushi to come in for some follow-up check-ups

although when he comes in for that check-up he talks about how he’s been healthy because he eats a lot of chazuke and you’re like ‘oh no, no, no, please eat other things too’

you end up packing him a bento box because he’s your patient so ofc you have to keep him healthy

the two of you run into each other a lot in the morning because atsushi tends to come in way earlier than he’s supposed to so you often find him sitting in front of the locked door

thus begins your early morning chats. atsushi’s always polite and never interrupts when you talk and you love how he shows so much interest in whatever you say

atsushi began to realize that he has feelings for you but boy is he bad at concealing them also ranpo kind of busted him in front of everyone in the agency including you

but atsushi was saved by you hinting that you wouldn’t mind going on a date with him at all and he’s ecstatic until he realizes he hasn’t been on a date before

he takes you out to a nice restaurant and insists on paying for everything

nothing much changes with your routine but atsushi likes to bring you breakfast in the morning and the two of you have little dates before going into the office

he knows how worried you get when he goes out on especially dangerous missions but he does everything he can to protect the city and the new home he found with the agency and you

this guy was one of the people, other than yosano and fukuzawa, who interviewed you for the job and you can’t forget how intense he was when it came to asking questions

of course, you answered all of them well but kunikida was very serious that you knew how dangerous it could be to be involved with the agency

there was a self-defense portion in the interview that you knew about and of course kunikida was the one who added that

to his pleasant surprise, you managed to dodge all his incoming attacks (kunikida lowkey found it hot, like that’s requirement number ten on his list checked right there)

kunikida does get injured a fair amount during missions and he doesn’t want to get dissected by yosano all the time so he goes to your clinic that’s right near the office

he likes how efficiently you work and how gentle your hands are that even when you’re stitching up his wound he almost can’t feel a thing

however, kunikida does have a bad habit of not resting for the appropriate number of days. like, even with a bullet wound he’ll still hobble over to his desk to finish his paperwork

once, he came down with a terrible case of the flu so of course you sent him home only for kunikida to sneak back into the office when he thought no one was looking

you ended up taking kunikida home but poor guy could barely do anything by himself so you took care of him too

kunikida is definitely the delirious babbling when he’s sick so he ends up talking about his list of traits for an ideal woman and how you filled out a good portion of it

when he wakes up (much more sane) he sees you reading that list on his notebook and he’s like WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING

he handed you the notebook personally before passing out and kunikida can’t live it down

you: well, even if i don’t match all these requirements, would you still be interested in going out?

kunikida: yes... please

everyone can tell that kunikida’s about to go on a date because of how nervous he is the entire day

he knows how tight your schedule can be and how busy he is with with work but he always makes time to have his lunchbreak with you

loves to hear about your day and even has some space in his notebook dedicated to any interesting stories you have

the first time you met him was when he also had his physical check-up which ranpo insisted he didn’t need but fukuzawa made him so he had no choice but to follow

the entire time ranpo’s just like ‘nothing’s wrong with me, see?’ and then you do a simple dental check-up and find that he has like two cavities he didn’t want to tell anyone about it because he’s scared of the dentist *cue ranpo trying to run away and you grabbing him by the poncho*

of course fukuzawa makes him go to the dentist too but ranpo insists that you have to be the one to take him and schedule the appointment and come along

truth be told, you’ve always been pretty attracted to ranpo because you know of his skill as a detective so you were excited to have this day with him

only for you to have to physically restrain ranpo to the dentist’s chair (you even had to call kenji to help) while his teeth was getting checked

ranpo was squeezing your hand the entire time and he was fairly grumpy after the whole ordeal that he wouldn’t even talk to you until he asked if you could get ice cream

you: the dentist just told you to eat less sweets

ranpo: but i neeeeed them

you: fine, how about frozen yogurt?

after the dentist trip, you know how much of a hard time ranpo has with eating less sweets so you decide to leave fruit on his desk as a healthier alternative but he won’t TOUCH IT

after some bribery on fukuzawa’s part (’i’ll acknowledge you if you eat fruit more and also tell atsushi to give you a piggyback ride every day’) he finally concedes

he actually finds himself liking fruit so in the afternoon he’ll swing by the office just in time for you to be slicing fruit

ranpo gets over the fact that you sent him to the dentist and enjoys his time in the clinic eating fruit with you and sleeping on the cots inside

your clinic is where he hides when he doesn’t want to do work and when he pouts and asks you to say that he’s sick you can’t help but go along with it

he’s also super physically affectionate around you. will literally have his body draped over yours sometimes while you work

people start talking about how you two look good there and one time someone asked if the two of you are dating and ranpo’s like ‘of course we are!’

and you’re surprised self is about to protest when ranpo smirks at you and says ‘why? am i wrong?’

lmao ofc he’s not you’ve been struggling to keep yourself from being a flustered mess around him

he’s still clingy around you but this time he comes into the clinic every few minutes to ask for a kiss

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumu-brainrot @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi @amberalisa

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daisys-gard3n · 2 years

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Gushing to share about soft princess hours with your domestic boyfriends? 🥺🤲🏻 BruRisDaisy hours hell yes - Laur

oh no, i feel it coming, the self indulgence train. woo wooo

They can immediately tell when I'm in princess mode, or soft dumb baby mode. I probably get up earlier than them and crawl out to the little chest of...toys...we have...And I bring out one of my collars. But its my comfort collar. It's pink and has a bow on it and has a heart padlock you need two keys for. I'm sitting there, struggling to put it on. Or I'm super clingy and quiet. When Bruno or Risotto catch me, they know what's up. I'm usually a crackhead duracell battery but now I'm quiet and fiddling with my collar...I am too stressed to the point where I was brought to subspace.

"Dolcezza, do you need help?" Risotto asks and he helps put it on with Bruno's and his key. He knows this is my comfort collar and I wanna be a dumb baby. So he picks me up and carries me back to bed with Bruno, letting my legs dangle and pressing my nose to his neck...I like how he smells, he smells warm and smokey and he's so big and warm.

"Oh, is my Principessa needy? Come to Signore." Bruno coos and he puts me in his lap, kissing at my cheeks but im shy and bury myself into his chest. "Are we shy today?" And I nod as he chuckles.

And they get to work. I'm just their little princess who wants attention. So Bruno spins me around so my back is against his chest and he kisses me, his hands going under my cute pjs and feeling me up and Risotto pulling down my pj bottoms to kiss at my thighs. Sooner or later he'll be eating me out and I'll squirm and whine.

I'm mostly inaudible, but I remember to say 'yes please' and 'thank you' and 'signore/padrone'. I'm their polite princess and they praise me for being such a good girl that they make me cum lots of times. Slowly and edging me, teasing me as I'm whining and clinging for more, trying to kiss them. But i'm too dumb <3. I like Bruno's tongue on my cunt and how he hums against it while he fingers me. I like Risotto's pierced tongue too, i'm too tiny and can only take one of his fingers. They kiss me all over and make me feel loved and extremely pent up. Making me cum over and over until I'm sensitive and I have hearts in my eyes like a hentai girl. But they need to give me a break, so I don't pass out immediately after their cocks. So Bruno pushes a cute heart-shaped plug in my ass and Risotto pushes in a vibrator he can control with a remote before continuing the day. Cleaning me up and having our lazy day.

I cuddle on top of Risotto while he watches TV, like a little koala. I ask if I'm too heavy and he assures me I'm not while putting one of his big hands on my head and patting me. Making me feel fuzzy bc I like getting scalp massages. Bruno makes breakfast and praises me for finishing, he loves his healthy Principessa. And he gives me my favorite iced coffee, my favorite sweet syrups in it too. I'm mostly inaudible for the day except a couple of times, responding politely. Bruno and Risotto love their polite little princess. I'd go to cuddle against Bruno's arm next and lay my head on his shoulder while he reads or knits. He sees me doing a bad anxious habit, chewing on the skin of my thumb. It looks completely wrecked and it's bleeding a little. So he calmly takes the hand with the wrecked thumb and holds it in his hand in silence before placing a kiss on my lips before going back to whatever he was doing. Maybe starting a movie now that he only has one hand.

Princess mode is when I'm really honest with my feeling I bottle up, so I become a bit of a crybaby. Blubbering and having fat tears rolling down my eyes as I babble that I'm tired and I don't wanna think. And I get shushed and kissed and coddle by them. Making me go :O

Bruno and Risotto look after my health conditions, making sure I take my medicines and my vitamins and make sure I'm eating healthy. Putting them on pretty pink plates I like...One of them is shaped like a cat :3

It's kinda quiet, but it's how we like it. I don't get overwhelmed and Bruno and Risotto are sort of quiet when its just us three.

Then it's time when it's night. Risotto couldn't help himself to teasing me with the remote of the vibrator a few times, making me squirmy and pulling onto the sleeve of his shirt. Probably pulling his hand down to my cunt and grinding on it. But he doesnt make me cum until tonight. Sandwiched gently between them and now my holes are stretched and prepped, I can take their cocks. Crying and babbling and drooling about how good I feel until we all cum.

and I get cleaned up and tucked in, in between them full of love <3

#not sfw #brurisdaisy #princess 'kink'#sir 'kink'#collaring #domestic au #we all live in a cozy house and we all fuck and kiss each other #too dumb need bfs #whoreiaki kakyoin

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golffitz-blog · 3 years

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Laure Murat: "Adèle Haenel's posture was like a declaration of war between a docked world, which I want to believe is dying, and a world on the way. "

Saturday March 7, 2020

Sophie Joubert

Historian and essayist, professor at the University of California (UCLA), Laure Murat published in 2018 "A sexual revolution? Reflections on the Post-Weinstein "(Stock). She returns to the Caesar attributed to Roman Polanski, analyzes the scope of Adèle Haenel's gesture and the French resistance to the MeToo movement. Interview.

What is your feeling about the Caesar ceremony? What problems did she reveal?

A feeling of disgust and disbelief at an endless masquerade where everything was ringing false. It was both a height of cowardice and out of date. The whole ceremony was based on the inability and refusal to name: to name the crisis situation in which the cinema industry finds itself, to name Adèle Haenel and her courage to have been the first to speak in France, to name until surname of Polanski, swallowed by Daroussin, or mocked under the nicknames of Popol or Atchoum. There has been talk of anti-Semitism against Polanski, who himself played on the obscene ambiguity of a comparison of his case with that of Dreyfus. I would rather speak, more generally, of a very French collaboration. No one on stage had a memorable word, a gesture of solidarity. No one has dared to put their foot in it. The lack of thought and commitment reached an unprecedented level. There was something astounding about seeing this conspiracy of silence unfold in the atmosphere which, constantly beating around the bush, turned the evening into a celebration of the void and the unspoken. Unsaid very clear to everyone: a man accused of rape by twelve women was nominated twelve times. As if such an enormity were to slip away, casually. All in all, I would have preferred someone to say out loud: we make this choice.

This evening - and this is only an apparent paradox - was actually the worst that could have happened to Roman Polanski, the great thousand-time award-winning filmmaker, who did not need that umpteenth rattle in his career. Because the Academy has achieved a triple feat: insult the Jew, celebrate the rapist and discredit the words of women. We know the formula: "Whoever says nothing consents". This evening, between aphasia and inconsistent babble, was one of the hushed consent of an entire community to the old order. The final prize list had the value of an unambiguous choice of society.

See also: Caesars. Polanski awarded under a shower of critics

What does this César for best achievement awarded to Polanski mean?

By crowning Roman Polanski, the Académie des Césars not only spat in the face of millions of victims of sexual assault around the world, it sent a very clear message: "Rape, you will be rewarded, shirk it. justice, you will be awarded ”. As if the revolution initiated by #MeToo had not happened. As if this planetary movement, this global awareness did not question anything. In France. This is undoubtedly what is called the cultural exception.

In the name of the separation of man and artist, this hoax that would disempower some criminals and not others, the Academy will deny having singled out a talent above all. The truth is, she is using an aesthetic alibi to justify the unjustifiable: impunity. As if artists weren't litigants. As if genius was above the law. As if women are just whores and liars. In doing so, French cinema, which boasts of its emancipatory function and claims to defend freedom of expression and creation, reveals its true face: an industry of extraordinary conservatism.

In the name of the prescription of crimes and the presumption of innocence, the Academy will still justify itself for not having to take into account accusations that are based only on old facts and unverifiable denunciations. Personally, I am very attached to the rule of law. I would even like, to tell the truth, that it be reinforced, to remedy the extremely serious dysfunctions precisely revealed by MeToo. Besides that Polanski is still under an arrest warrant in the United States, it is also questionable why he does not file a libel suit against these "hysterics" who wrongly accuse him. To ignore these denunciations by honoring today a man who has won dozens of times in his career is to take sides with this supposedly immutable order which urges women to be silent and scorns their word. That is to say to Adèle Haenel: "Shut up". It is to side with a system which, by the very admission of the Minister of Justice, is deficient and which sees the proliferation of feminicides, because after three testimonies to the police, a woman does not return to complain: she's dead.

Do you think, as Adèle Haenel told the New York Times, that France has "completely missed the boat of #metoo"? You spoke in 2018 of "French dissidence to the #MeToo movement", do we have new proof of this today?

"To miss the boat" is the translation of "miss the boat" appearing in the New York Times, literally "to miss the boat". But what I believe is that France, or at least a certain France which benefits from the system, did not arrive too late on the quay out of breath. She doesn't want to go up on the bridge. This is a deliberate refusal. This implies that this France has, in reality, very well taken the measure of the danger and the potential scope of MeToo. And she is doing everything in her power to prevent a movement that may well undermine her little prerogatives. The “Deneuve tribune” (published in Le Monde) was a first step in this active dissent. Since then, the news has continued to show the scale of the situation and the urgency to rethink the issue of consent and relations of domination. The Caesar ceremony was a second step, but a second step "squared", marked by a double denial: the door opened by Adèle Haenel not only returned to her in the face but the Academy of Caesar has placed a lock. additional, to the tune of “Nothing Happened in Hiroshima”. See the scene where Adèle Haenel gets up: everyone is looking elsewhere.

This posture was like a declaration of war between a docked world, which I want to believe is dying, and a world on the way. The good news is that this war is forcing everyone to position themselves.

Is what happened symptomatic of an environment, an industry, the cinema, or can we draw lessons from it at the level of French society?

Sexism, rape, child crime transcend all walks of life and all social classes, without exception. What happened is symptomatic of the film industry, such as the Matzneff affair in the literary world, the Abitbol affair in the sports world, the Preynat affair of the Catholic Church ... on condition of specifying that 'we say "symptomatic" to mean "visible" or, if you like, "mediated". The reality is that we are not dealing with singular monsters of a decadent cultural or social elite, but with a global system that concerns all of society.

Is this a war between the dominant and the dominated, as Virginie Descentes says in her text which appeared in Liberation on Monday?

Yes, if you consider that the sinews of this war, as in all wars, is money - and Virginie Despentes insisted on this. But to oppose the dominant and the dominated is also to suggest the infernal couple executioners and victims. However, I believe that this polarization, which is used too quickly, does not explain much, and that it is above all more complex than one thinks. What strikes me above all is that voluntary servitude to the patriarchal moral order and submission to institutional violence go far beyond the man / woman, White / Black divide, as the Caesar ceremony vividly demonstrated. . That the Academy chose two women, Claire Denis and Emmanuelle Bercot, to award the César for best achievement obviously owes nothing to chance. But you should also know that they knew in advance the name of the winner in the envelope and that they had agreed to deliver together a "prize" and not deliver a "verdict", in the words of Claire Denis. One can also wonder about the fact that Anaïs Demoustier did not have a word for Adèle Haenel, nor Ladj Ly. In other words, whether you are a white woman like Claire Denis, who knows the mechanisms of oppression so well, or a young director whose skin color is the object of a system of discrimination, does not prevent you from lending a hand. strong in the domination and crushing of the words of the victims.

See also: Nora Philippe: "A system continues to monopolize its privilege"

What do you think is the scope of Adèle Haenel's gesture, who left the room? Does it make it possible to leave the status of victim?

Its reach is decisive - provided, of course, that it is followed by the implementation of real change within the entire French film industry. As Fabienne Brugère and Guillaume Leblanc say in Liberation (tribune of March 3, 2020), this gesture of Adèle Haenel and the Portrait of the young girl on fire team, to which must be added the non-reappearance of a Florence Foresti "disgusted", opens the way to another regime. The two philosophers write: “Albert Hirschman, in an important book, Exit, Voice, and Loyalty, had, in 1970, underlined that, faced with the failures of institutions, individuals have the choice between three behaviors: taking the exit door ( exit), take the floor (voice) or resign (loyalty). Adèle Haenel, Céline Sciamma, Florence Foresti and everyone who left the room showed that the "exit" was indeed the beginning of the voice. "

This "warlike" outing, just before the end of the ceremony, was also the striking proof that it had become impossible for Céline Sciamma and Adèle Haenel to remain in this assembly, whatever happens and whatever the result of the meeting. last attribution: that of the best film, for which Portrait of the young girl on fire was nominated. They did not wait for the final prize list. They didn’t go to the carrot. Mass was said.

This gesture saved the honor of the Caesars - a shame: the silhouette of Adèle Haenel, index finger pointed at the sky, denouncing "shame", was the only living moment of this sinister evening. She literally gave substance to her political word. And that’s why this gesture, this decision, this event, this dignity, to get up and go, to refuse the injunction to silence and voluntary servitude to power, has gone around the world. In her interview with Mediapart (November 3, 2019), she had already marked a decisive turning point: by breaking the impasse executioner / victim and by proposing to deconstruct a "system" - one which literally put on a spectacle at the Caesar ceremony - it offered a new choice of society. His gesture is part of the logical continuity of this project. If Fanny Ardant says she is ready to follow Polanski "to the guillotine", symbol of the end of the aristocracy, I want to believe that the younger generations will follow Adèle Haenel into a more dignified and more democratic world.

Are we in a period of reaction, of regression, or on the contrary in a new wave of freedom of speech with the hashtag #jesuisunevictime? More generally, what reflection can we carry out on the status of victim?

Recognizing the victims' status is an essential and necessary step, which involves, in mirror image, getting the executioner to recognize his crime. But it can only be a first step. Because the executioner / victim partition most often looks like a dead end. It freezes adversaries, it sediments the trauma. Above all, it installs in the sole affect what should be thought of by the concept. Not to mention the almost inevitable risk of victimization competition, however obscene - the defenders of Polanski do not hesitate to speak of him as a "victim" of a media lynching or to recall that Samantha Geimer has "forgiven" him. , remedy for all evils (without specifying that this was after the payment of half a million dollars, a condition for stopping the proceedings she had initiated against him).

The second step is the one proposed by Adèle Haenel and I interpret it as an exit from the top: not to anathematize “monsters” (which do not exist, she specifies) but to deconstruct the system of the grip, intimidation, harassment, domination of bodies, consubstantial with capitalist violence. Trying to understand how we act, how to resolve the balance of power is a political project that should involve everyone, at all levels.

Adèle Haenel and Vanessa Springora have one thing in common: rather than posing as victims, they prefer to question the consent of society and the workings of a system. In both cases, justice ignored them. In both cases, the justice system seized their case. Adèle Haenel and Vanessa Springora do not accuse, they seek to understand, so that what happened to them does not happen to others. However, I deeply believe that this “intelligent” position is the one that bothers and offends the most. This invitation to dialogue is seen as an insurmountable threat. The world of cinema bosses, like Olivier Carbone, casting director, prefers to promise in response to Adèle Haenel, "a well-deserved dead career", as he posted on his Facebook page the day after the Caesars. And return her to her status as an actress charged with being beautiful and being silent.

How to analyze the unease triggered by Aïssa Maïga's intervention and the virulent criticisms that followed?

The icy reception of the room comes, in my opinion, from two sources: the nature of the subject (diversity and inclusion), which the majority do not want to hear about in the name of universalism, or more precisely of endemic racism; the form chosen by Aïssa Maïga, awkward in the face of an assembly whose hostility was palpable, even if, on the bottom, she was right all along: on whitewashing, stereotypical roles, the need to work together. It didn't shock me in any way that she said counting black people in the room. That Eric Zemmour and Nadine Morano, who were the first to say they were horrified by these words, find themselves in a room with 1,600 blacks and ten whites. I would be very surprised if they didn't do the math. As for Bruno Retailleau, president of the Les Républicains group in the Senate (invited on France Inter on March 3, 2020), outraged to see the “radical bad practices of American campuses” imported into France, that he therefore come to take a tour in the universities across the Atlantic, where we welcome and respect minorities other than in France. And certainly not because of some quota policy, unconstitutional in the United States, or affirmative action, which has been abolished there.

See also: Sexual violence, the women's lawyer forum creates controversy

How to think after Caesar? How to get out of the war, crystallized by social networks?

I do not know. What I do know is that it is imperative that the new generations, especially men, get involved and unite. That an organization like 50/50 multiply the proposals, and that the new management of the Academy of Caesar take the measure of the stakes, so that we never relive this ceremony of shame. And that the press, above all, do not let twitter make the law, under the influence of emotion and insult, and open its pages to more analysis and substantive debate. Finally, it is imperative that the public authorities take over and establish a real policy on inequalities, devoting budgets worthy of the name.

You have often insisted that there is no question of censoring works. What work of pedagogy, of image education, of the place and representation of women on the screen should be undertaken?

I find it fascinating that the idea that a global awareness, in this case driven by MeToo, leads to a critical reflection on art by revealing to us certain unthought, especially on the representation of women. It is not a question of retroactively and anachronistically plating a contemporary ideology on the films of the past. It is even less about condemning a work a posteriori or censoring it - a censure against which I object, indeed, without ambiguity. It is about understanding what constituted and constructed our imaginations, according to which codes and which implicit, which formal methods and which aesthetic biases. Revision is not revisionism. It is a basic critical activity, which takes into account the long time; it is a desiccation operation.

This is what interested me for example in Blow up: how a rape, because it is aestheticized, manages to disappear from our consciousness and our memory? how does it reappear thanks to a topicality which suddenly makes us more clairvoyant and more attentive? This is all the more fascinating to me since Blow up is precisely the story of a crime that no one has seen and that the photographer unknowingly captured. This reflection in no way affects my judgment on the masterpiece that is this film: it helps me better understand how aesthetics treat the violence of certain representations and imprint our unconscious, according to the presuppositions of a period.

Likewise, I wouldn't think of throwing Jules Verne in the trash because he was anti-Dreyfus, misogynist and anti-feminist. On the other hand, I am interested in the idea that he was all of this, at the same time as a staunch defender of the struggles for independence - all of his work can be read as an anti-colonialist and anti-slavery manifesto. It is not about judging but about analyzing. It is a workshop or laboratory logic, not a court.

Watching films again, rereading books, reviewing plastic works is like saying: where do we come from? And hence where do we want to go? It is an exciting project for artists, whose function, it seems to me, is to invent a different outlook on the world. It is also an opportunity to renew our representations of eroticism and the clichés that are so often attached to it.

See also: Cinema. Caesars with the scent of scandal

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snarkyelf · 3 years

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Remaking Laure Sombremont... again!? Yes, yes I am. Another.. third try is it now?

Babbling nonsense under the cut.

Less Lan Wangji and more Lan Xichen. Like, scales totally tipped in the other direction.

A wonderful, beautiful himbo.

He’s on the (Ishgard) HOA committee as the “Secretary” which he takes pride in. He really just copies minutes and sits near the front for all the housewives to gawk at during the meeting. Keeps attendance up.

Yes, he bakes brownies from scratch.

He is vegan and enjoys anything ethically sourced (this might change *shrugs*)

Laure enjoys cross stitching and gardening.

Working out is a hobby and yes, he’d be happy to discuss what healthy green blend he has in his protein drink.

Seasonal oven mitts. Oh yes.

Far too trusting.

Gorgeous. Tall, legs do long they should be illegal, broad shoulders, toned waist. Kind eyes, luscious hair.

He lives with the Sombremont family at their estate in Ishgard and adores his nieces and nephews.

Like the others in the Sombremont family, he’s a trained musician.

Maybe a bard or archer in battle?

But get this! Dude is pretty intelligent. Like, he’s a professor. He studies voidsent, aether, and its effects on the natural environment.

He has honed his fighting skills well, so after a dungeon with an adventuring group is done and the space is deemed ‘safe’ or ‘safe enough’ he takes samples from the dungeons and inspects the environment.

Doesn’t flinch at the sight of blood or gore, in or out of battle.

DOES spend an embarrassingly long time laundering his clothing afterwards.

His ideal date isn’t something he thinks much of, but he has a perchance for gremlin-type people, and power bottoms.

#lauren sombremont #bored at work #babbling #i dunno

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emotionalcadaver · 6 months

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I feel like this is gonna be a hot take, but I actually don't really want a Peaky Blinders movie.

I know I'm in the minority here but I actually really liked season 6, and I LOVED the ending. Open-endings have always been something I've enjoyed, and after spending pretty much the entire season just bracing myself to have to watch Tommy die, I was so, so relieved and ecstatic to see that not only did he live, but he actually got a pretty hopeful ending. And the symbolism was just *muah*.

I'm terrified that a movie will wreck a lot of that. I'm scared Steven Knight is going to regress characters. I could easily see him giving Arthur another drug-addict storyline and if he shoves Lizzie and Tommy back together after Lizzie finally went through the development and growth necessary to break away from that loveless, toxic ass marriage, I swear to God...

And I feel like this might also be an unpopular opinion but I really don't want Tommy to die. I know that's probably inevitable if we get a movie since Cillian seems to be just about done playing the character, and it would be the only way to really be able to end his storyline.

But I'm attached to the fucker, okay? I don't want to watch him die. And I've gotten tired of the trope of killing off the suicidal character because "it's what they want" or "it's the only way they'll actually find peace." It just feels like lazy writing to me a lot of the time.

I don't know I'm just sort of rambling at this point I guess. And don't get me wrong if we do get a movie or more content I'll probably be excited and will happily watch it. I just loved the ending of season 6, and I don't feel unfulfilled or like I need more of the story. I like stories that end, and I felt that Peaky Blinders concluded in a satisfying way.

Please don't come for me in the comments 😅 this is just my personal opinion.

#laur babbles #peaky blinders #laur's peaky blinders hot takes #i gotta bunch most of which i will probably never share because i don't want to get ripped apart in my askbox

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.21

a/n: things will get better~ <3

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 22

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19 @celestial-kanzakii @laure-lo @team-wang-puppy @aydience-world @choros-main-hoe @colorseeingchick @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

The silence of the hall was cut by the vibration of your phone. Taking it out, you answered.

“Yes, Nao?”

“The cameras showed the Fukuo Kai members left the building. Save for two people. Overhaul not included.” Inside the tent, Tsukauchi focused on the monitors. Observing and watching as live and recorded footage were being played to make sure the remaining two were to be caught. “I’m assuming you're on the 4th floor. Be careful. Cameras aren’t picking up feed.”

“I know. You said there were two?” Staring at the fresh blood dripping onto the floor, you took a step back when the thick red liquid began to run down the wall. Recalling that sound earlier, the other person was surely on this floor. Somewhere.

“That’s right. It’s your call from here.”

“Any info on their quirks?”

“We’re still digging it up. Apparently, those two men weren’t part of the meeting. If my deductions are right, they were the ones who terrorized our plan.”

Feeling a bit lightheaded, you inhaled and let out a long exhale. The man wasn’t lying entirely when he said it had nothing to do with the Fukuo Kai. Now that you were sure he was not on the same floor, you cursed under your breath.

“Nao. There’s only one person left. Overhaul used his quirk on one of them.” Heading back towards the fire exit, you wiped off the beads of sweat forming on your forehead. Feeling chills run down your spine, the grip on your phone tightened as your hands began to feel tingly. “My adrenaline is going down. We’ll catch the other one… next time.”

“Bring yourself back to safety. We’ll debrief once you're here.”

“See you in a few.”

Ending the call, you shook your head and made your way back to the fire exit. With each step you took, your eyelids seemed to become heavier. Leaning on the wall for support, you saw how your vision was starting to blur. Shutting your eyes close, you reached out for your phone only to stumble to the ground. With a steady growing headache, you activated your quirk.

Giving yourself a self-administered adrenaline pump, your felt control over your body once more. Standing up with effort, your shoulder remained glued to the wall as you took slow and steady steps towards the exit. Taking your phone out, you dialed for Tsukauchi only to flinch as another gunshot echoed through the room. The way your phone just sprung out of your hand and landed with a crack made a small yelp escape your mouth.

Taking your handgun out as you turned around, you were face to face with a man in a suit. Realizing that your phone was long gone by now, reaching base through your earpiece would not be the best option.Squinting your eyes, your blurry vision was not helping one bit. Hopefully, the sudden end to your call would alert your partner.

“Who are you?” Buying time was all you could do for now.

“No one important.” He took a step forward. His face void of any emotion save for the complete focus he has. “The question is, what are cops like you doing? Teaming up with the yakuza? Have you all stooped that low?”

“Says the man who’s ready to pull the trigger. Is it Overhaul you're looking for?” Each second that passed, your headache was evolving into a migraine. Breathing alone was becoming strenuous.

“On the contrary, yes.” He takes another step forward. “He’s been rather difficult to deal with these days.”

“You… You’re not from the F-fukuo Kai.” This was not good, you thought to yourself.

“Don’t strain yourself, love.” Seeing how your eyes widened and body trembled. He let a smirk cross his mouth. With much confidence he closed the gap between your bodies. With one hand, he unzipped your bulletproof vest. “You might be wondering why you can’t move?”

“No shit.” Watching him create invisible circles over your stomach made your heart beat even more rapidly. Thinking that his quirk had something to do with how your body’s motor skills were useless, you hoped that back up was now on it’s way. “This is your quirk, isn’t it?”

“Right you are. I can control a certain portion of a person’s gravity. It also works with force as well. But it’s much more fun.” Slapping your face, you barely felt a thing till you saw how his irises changed colors. The amount of force you received hurt double than it should have. Before your hands could touch him, his irises shifted color once more. “Not fast enough. But that was fun.”

“Why are you after Overhaul? Isn’t that suicide?”

“That man refuses to partner with us. We were more than willing to sponsor but for some shitty reason he turned us down.” He rolled his eyes and took a step back. “Wanna see something fun?”

You flinched at the sound of his gun. Yet the bullet lay suspended in mid air. Knowing where this was going, you tried to gather each ounce of your strength to break through the man’s quirk. With your body trembling from the failed attempt, you cursed under your breath and focused on your own quirk. If his quirk centered on gravity, then maybe yours could regulate your blood flow to show any kind of result.

“Struggling won’t get you anywhere.” He blinked and his irises changed colors.

Regaining control of your body did not save you. Feeling an intense heat pooling on your lower obliques, the burning sensation was enough to let you fall to the ground. Immediately covering the wound, you focused your quirk on that area to stop the bleeding. The pain made you curl into a small ball, your body trembling as your mind remained focused on the bullet’s entry way.

“Guess backup isn’t coming~” Taking his time, he grinned at the sight of slowly forming a puddle of red liquid. “Sucks to be helpless? Hoho~ I see your quirk is preventing blood loss.”

Bending down to squat, he grabbed your hand and flipped you over. Trying to release yourself from his grip, he placed a foot on your right hand and kept a hold of your left. Placing his free hand on your wound, he let out a chuckle. The pain had subsided but you were too aware of what would happen next.

“And here I thought police officers were a force to be reck-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you watched as he went flying all the way to the other end of the room. Simultaneously, the blood he had stopped came oozing out like a small water fountain. Seconds after, you harshly bit on your lip as the pain came back two fold. Putting pressure on the badly bleeding wound, you activated your quirk.

“This.” Despite the ringing in your ears, you knew who owned that voice. “This is why we refused to work with your lot, Ayato. Always causing unnecessary burdens.”

“Well if it isn’t the man I wanted to see.” Ayato stood up, barely keeping his balance. The way he landed was rather painful on his side. “Thought you left already, Overhaul?”

“I did.” He scratched his forehead. Glancing at your bleeding body did not help the situation.

Taking slow steps forward, Ayato focused his sight on the mask wearing man. Blinking a couple of times he felt his blood start to boil. Patting his body, he felt the small bullet on his side. The same red bullet he was supposed to be funding. Meeting Overhaul’s eyes once more, he felt a chill climbing up his spine and enveloping his mind.

“The bullets are nearing its completion..” Overhaul said as he removed his other glove. Moving forward, Ayato couldn’t help but take a step back. The growing anger in Overhaul’s eyes was enough to shrink whatever confidence he had in him. “What’s wrong, Ayato? Not so brave without your quirk?” Patting around his body for his gun, he let out a silent curse when he saw it resting beside Overhaul’s foot. Reaching for a small knife, he assumed a battle stance only to be met with a faint chuckle and a shake of the head. Gritting his teeth, Ayato began to sprint towards the supposed villain. Only to fall to the ground with a thud as a surge of electricity coursed through his body.

“Sorry.” Tsukauchi’s body appeared from behind the fallen man. “Got held up at the entrance.”

“Useless.” Overhaul commented as he watched the unconscious body. Turning around, he went closer to your body. Observing how shallow your breathing was, he caught himself clenching his fists. Caught up in the fight, he had forgotten the main reason why he rushed back to the building.

Before he could do anything, a hand touched his shoulder and shoved him. Stumbling three steps to the side, the same officer who was not fond of him was now administering first aid. Seeing him lift your badly bleeding body made him feel uneasy.

“This is your fault.” The officer's eyes focused on the standing man. “If you weren’t involved in this mess, (l/n) wouldn’t have been injured this bad.”

“For your information, she was already injured when I arrived.” It took a lot of strength not to harm the person in front of him. “Tell me, officer, do you think it would have been a smart move to just barge in?”

“You and your quirk are more than capable of doing something on the spot.” He stood up. A few drops of your blood dripping down his fingertips. “Lend a helping hand? An officer gets injured, and one of the terrorist is gone because of your hot head. That’s why I despise working with your lot. Nothing but bad news.”

“Captain Iwase.” Tsukauchi butted in. He had just finished cuffing Ayato and handed him over to another officer. “Enough. Let me tend to (y/n) injuries. Your babbling mouth is causing her to bleed out.”

“Look at her.” His index finger pointing at your heavily breathing form. “Do you really think first aid is gonna help? For a bullet wound, that amount is abnormal. If anything, a blood transfusion is what she needs now but I doubt the ambulance would get here in time.”

“Then why don’t you stop complaining and dial 119?”

“Tsukauchi. Are you serious?”

“You may be higher in terms of ranking, but she’s my partner and she will always come first.” Reaching for his personal phone, Tsukauchi tossed it to Iwase. “Now unless you want to keep Overhaul’s hand away from your neck, I suggest you dial emergency hotlines. Now.”

Defeated, Iwase marched off the floor. Making sure to bump shoulders with the tall detective.

“He means well.” Tsukauchi still vouched for the captain as he checked your weak pulse. Carefully lifting your body, he made you lean on the wall. Iwase, despite the rambling, was right. He wasn’t sure what happened but the puddle of thick red liquid was alarming. “What happened?”

“The man you just electrocuted used his quirk on (l/n). He can control gravity to a certain degree. By the time I arrived, your partner was already bleeding and glued to the ground. His hand was covering the entry way so I assume her blood came gushing out like an oil pipe when I attacked him.”

As he relayed the information, Tsukauchi was already wrapping a bandage around your waist. For a moment, his eyes met your dull ones. Looking back at the red patch, he swallowed a bit of his saliva.

“Move over, Tsukauchi.” Overhaul looked down on both your crouching bodies. His eye twitching at the sight of your blood stained bandage. Not wanting to go on his bad side, Tsukauchi stood up and excused himself. Despite Overhaul being the labelled sociopath, he had gained enough respect for him to be trusted. “Can you talk?”

“I’m in a lot… of pain… but I’m fine, Overhaul.” You reassured him. Voice breathy and shaky. “It’s not that bad and I’m already doing my part by regulat-”

“Shut up.” He cut you off and forced your hand away from the wound. Taking a look at his hand, he let out a muffled curse. He was breaking out but the priority of fixing your wound won. Seeing Ayato’s knife, he reached for it and sliced the bandage. The bleeding was still bad and he knew full well that your quirk was no longer doing its function. “As much as I hate to admit it, that asshole officer was right. You need blood transfusion. I can close the wound but i’ll have to overhaul the bullet.”

“I think dying would hurt less.” You managed to chuckle.

“Just shut your mouth and let me overhaul the damn bullet.” Without a warning, his index finger entered the small hole. His eyes darted back to your screaming voice. He had to do this quickly to make sure any more blood loss would stop. Sighing, he leaned in closer. Just enough for you to lay your head on the crook of his neck. Your badly trembling body was not helping the situation.

Luckily, it barely took another push for his fingertip to reach the cold shell. Overhauling it in barely a second, this time he warned you about his exit. Receiving a nod, he felt your shoulders tense. Once his bloody finger was out, his clean hand held on to your wound before closing it completely.

“You’re in for an amount of pain.” At least the wound was closed now. The small whimper that escaped your mouth was the telltale sign that you were near exhaustion. Yet somehow, you managed to grip on to his jacket. “Your wound may be healed bu-”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Be specific.”

“For m-mentioning Ackerm...Ackerman.” With your last ounce of strength, you wrapped your shaky arms around his neck. To which he did not refuse. “You’re b-breaking out.”

“I know. Guess you really aren’t as pure as I thought you were.” He stared at his hives and back at you. Slowly sliding in and out of consciousness. “Such a shame. Then again, each and every person is tainted in their own way.”

“I… I’m sorry about… last time.”

“You should be.” Wrapping his arm under the crook of your knees, he lifted you up. He adjusted his hold to make sure you were comfortable. By now, you had lost consciousness. Failing to hear what he had left to say. “Don’t ever mention Ackerman again. You’re mine and mine alone my guilty pleasure.”

- - - - -

a/n: and the fluff begins :D hope the tension was alright in this scene... took a while to write this tbh xD see yall next week <3 yes Overhaul is still accepting in his waiting list too :)

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki

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astoryinred · 3 years

Note

Hello!, a request for a ficlet of Papa Enjolras and infant to toddler Julien interactions (for some reason i really like dad-son moments haha ^_^). i relate so much to julien 😅

A/N: Here we go, Nonny!

A Mind of His Own

It only stood to reason, or at least practical knowledge, that Enjolras would have little to do with his children’s daily care for the first half-year or so of their lives, apart from occasionally cleaning up their messes or regularly bringing them to their mother to be fed. ‘Then again I would not be the first father to be caught flat footed with this detail,’ he reminded himself as he eyed the blond infant propped up in a chair before him. Between him and his son was an untouched bowl of bread and milk pap, which had gone disagreeably cold in the last quarter of an hour.

“What am I ever going to do with you, Julien?” he asked the youngster. He checked his watch and shook his head; it had only been a few minutes since Eponine had begged off to get a much needed nap, and had insisted that their daughter Laure follow suit. ‘We shall have to make do with no assistance then,’ Enjolras thought as he scooped up some of the pap to offer it to Julien, who promptly turned away with disgust.

Julien frowned and waved his hands. “Dada,” he squeaked, clumsily pushing away the bowl.

“You have to eat some of it. It’s part of your lunch,” Enjolras pointed out. He got a second look at the bowl and frowned in turn; the pap did indeed look anything but appetizing even to him. “Or perhaps you’ve had nothing but bread and milk for the past few days,” he observed aloud. As far as he remembered, Laure had not been this difficult to wean two years ago.

As Julien pushed away the bowl again, Enjolras caught it before it could come crashing to the floor. “Well, you have made it clear then, but we have to feed you somehow. With anything,” he said as he scooped up the child to bring him and the bowl to the kitchen. After setting Julien down to crawl on the floor and then tossing the bowl into the basin meant for washing dishes, Enjolras now began to search the larder for whatever else could be possibly edible for a small child. “Onions, garlic, potatoes, chives, celery---which I am sure were meant for dinner,” he muttered as he went through the household’s vegetable basket. As tempting as it was to simply throw some potatoes into a pot and then mash them, the last thing he wanted was to have to explain to Eponine why they would have to make another trip to the market at Saint-Germain just before supper.

At last he found a bundle of green beans, still slightly damp from the market. When he held up the beans, he saw Julien’s eyes widen with apparent interest. “For the sake of fairness we’ll eat them together,” he said as he now filled a pot with water and went to strike the flint on the stove. He realized that Julien was watching every move of his keenly, yet without making much fuss or noise. ‘As if he is simply storing up every observation for later,’ Enjolras thought as he threw the beans into the pot of boiling water, and then picked up Julien before he could squirm to the stove.

Julien looked up at him and then began to babble eagerly as he reached up for his father’s waistcoat buttons. “Dada!”

“You’ll get one of these yourself when you’re big enough,” Enjolras quipped as he bounced the baby to keep him occupied. The thought of Julien in a waistcoat and trousers was enough to have him smiling wryly. “That won’t be for a few years just yet. But when you do get to that point, I’ll have to show you more of the world. You and your sister -- but maybe we’ll have to take it at your pace, we know how Laure likes to run ahead,” he said.

In response, Julien cooed and blew a bubble of saliva out of his mouth. Enjolras sighed before wiping his son’s face. “But before that, table manners first,” he said, earning him a chortle from the child.

After a few minutes he set Julien down once more, but on a chair at the kitchen table, while he went to drain the green beans. Once the beans had cooled sufficiently, he piled them on a plate, which he set before Julien. The infant clumsily reached out to grab one of the long green beans, which he then examined for a moment before beginning to chew on one end rather eagerly. “Very well done, little man,” Enjolras remarked, now picking up one of the beans just to show Julien how to eat them. For a moment he regretted not having salted the water before boiling the beans, but the sight of the infant munching away happily at his vegetable repast was enough to dispel that line of thought. ‘Now all that is left is to explain to Eponine how this came about.”

#enjonine #enjolras

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windup-dragoon · 4 years

Text

In the warmth of spring

|| FFXIV write - 2020

|| Prompt #16 - Lucubration

|| Post ShB

|| wol x Hien

|| 1360 words

|| References - Pain

|| With mentions of Illya, Laurelis, Arianna, and Moth’ir

|| In which the Prince struggles with celebration

Spring in Doma had always been his favorite season. The earthy tones of Yanxia were abruptly replaced with bursts of color. From rich scarlet hues, soft blushing pinks, to the purest of whites he had ever seen. All of these and more in full blossom this time of year. And it was for this reason that he had chosen to hold his coronation until now.

He wanted the world to see how truly magnificent the enclave could be. Certainly it was without the charm or history of Doma Castle that now sat at the bottom of the river, but this was home now. Where his people could feel safe once more and flourish. Together, they would create a new history for Doma.

A single blossom fluttered before him now, caught in the breeze of a brisk evening. The flame of his lantern flickered, sending shadows dancing across his parchment. Bold markings of fresh ink stretched out before him, the tiny flower, taken much too early from the branch, landing squarely on his working hand. His brushstrokes stilled while jade colored eyes studied the blossom.

For the last week or so he took to the pavilion in the One Garden. A chance for peace and solitude as to better lucubrate over his work. While writing in the company of a certain Warrior of Light was, and has been, possible, it was simply too distracting to have her so near by. To hold her at a distance and ask for sheer silence seemed unfair to him, especially when it was their bedchamber to share. Where else would she go then so he could be at peace? Lest his mind wander and get lost daydreaming of her, so very near and far all at once.

Instead it simply made sense to take leave for a few hours before midnight and hurriedly scribble his thoughts down on parchment before his train of thought escaped him.

But now, in the stillness of the moment as the feather soft petals of the blossom caressed his skin, Hien staggered back into the here and now. The One River babbling at the docks had somehow grown louder at his ears, suddenly very aware just how heavy his eyelids felt.

His work laid scattered before him, shared between hundreds of rolled parchment and hastily written ink. All of this was in preparation for his coronation. One document, somewhere among the mess, held a speech he would give to his people. He was incredibly proud of the words he had conjured from thin air that night and simply bubbled with excitement to see how well received it would be. Another was a simple list detailing events as they would occur, a timeline for his own knowing as he had never been to a coronation before nor remembered his mother or father ever once discussing the matter. But the one he struggled with the most, a piece of parchment with blotches of ink where he had fumbled with the brush or lost his concentration, the very same piece he helplessly tried to finish even now, titled only with her name.

Hien had difficulty swallowing as he read over what he managed to produce, chewing on his lip as his cheeks flared scarlet. Another blunder. This would never suffice. His choice of words were always much too flowery, too heavy-handed or just too flat. Never could he find quite the right way to say what had been on his mind for months. Even extending inquiries to her friends seemed of little help.

‘Say it romantically!’ Was Laurelis’ opinion. He hoped it would at least sound romantic in some way.

‘Be honest and straightforward.’ Illya had replied. If he were too poetic, the sentiment would be lost to her, this much he knew. She often mentioned struggling to hold a conversation with Urianger after all.

‘...Flowers?’ Arianna squeaked in her mousy way.

‘Why are you asking for my opinion?” Emet-Selch was... certainly of no help. He was unsure why he even bothered to phrase a question to the man anyway, besides the fact that wherever Arianna went, the Ascian was close behind.

With a sigh on his lips, Hien set aside his brush, his free hand capturing the little blossom and letting it rest in the center of his palm. Perhaps with the arrival of more of their friends and companions he could ask for more opinions. Moth’ir and Thancred were surely due to arrive any day, accompanied with their darling daughter Marmot. The two seemed more level headed; certainly they would have an answer for his struggles.

For now, however, he would have to abandon the subject for another day. Exhaustion had crept up on him, leaving dark rings beneath his eyes and an ache in his bones that demanded the sweet comfort of sleep. But as he began collecting his parchment, it dawned on him. His stomach sunk, his heart beating with a hollow thump.

There would be no goodnight kisses or a warm embrace beside him this night. Just as there had been none the night before. Early the day previous she had left for Eorzea with only a fleeting kiss on the cheek to remember her by. He had missed it then, too overwhelmed with decoration choices to see the urgency in her mismatched eyes as she rushed to depart.

Perhaps something had come up with the scions.

At least that was what he told himself all afternoon, realizing there was a piece of him missing while she was away. He felt himself drift from conversations, thinking about her and her far away adventures without him. What horizons did she see? Did they make her think of him? He could almost see it now as he closed his eyes; Kiri eagerly pointing out constellations in a foreign sky and telling him stories of her travels. He could almost hear the laughter in her voice while they cuddled close beside a fire, sharing a meal and drink in unknown wilds.

Just as his mind began to wander from him, shouts from the pier snapped him back. Slowly he roused from his stool to look toward the docks only to see a sail of a boat folding in. A small boat, to be sure, but so late? The prince abandoned his work out of curiosity, only the little blossom still in his hand coming along for the ride.

The little harbor of the enclave had a few fishermen helping tie the newly arrived boat down, pulling it flush against the stonework for the passengers to step out. Hien arrived in time to spy Az’hala and Isho, Kiri’s companions, help an older Roegadyn man off the boat. Isho, who had been stationed in Kugane, met Hien’s eyes with a look of ice. The Au Ra always had an unflinching, stoic expression to him, but this? This was unsettling.

“Friends! Welcome!” Hien called out, descending the few steps with leaps and bounds. His heart was practically vibrating in his chest cavity. Was Kiri with them? Az’hala’s golden eyes faltered, his brows drawing together that had Hien’s smile wavering. “...Who is this guest of yours?”

Even in the dark of evening, Hien could see the silvery outlines glittering in torchlight. The roe’s features were heavily scarred and sunken over time. He held his hands together, as if the evening breeze was cold and bit at his crooked fingers. The man looked between Az’hala, Isho, and then to Hien with sparkling, wet eyes.

“A-Are you... Hien?” His voice trembled.

The prince cocked a brow and shifted his weight. What was going on? “Aye. And who are you?”

“My lord,” Az’hala ducked between them, “This is Eyriwolk. Kiri’s father-”

Before his tense jaw could fall, Hien watched the roe’s features crumple and massive shoulders shake. “This young lad said you could help.... Please! I ain’t got much but... Please, my girl... They’ve got her.”

The roe fell to his knees with Az’hala at his side. Isho, always the quiet one, crossed his arms and looked away before anyone noticed the fury in his eyes. And as for Hien...

A tiny little blossom fell from his hand.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrites2020 #|| Tiger Prince & the Stray #|| Untold Stories #Hien Rijin #Lord hien #prince hien #hien x wol #hien x kiri #did I JUST CHANGE WRITING STYLES AGAIN #wow ok i need to stop that #sdkljfw #yeets this onto the dash and fades from existence #Eyri you really need to learn some respect too fsdkljw just calling him hien c'MON

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let-love-run-red · 4 years

Text

The Adventures of a Single Father-6

AN: I’m so sorry loves, I know I said “this week” like two weeks ago but everything went up in flames after that. My S/O’s dad was hospitalized and I was caring for my grandma’s cats along with all my assignments from my classes, but here’s the long awaited next chapter! Again, I’m sorry for the wait :(

Tag list: @ktellmeastory, @sincereleygmg, @0hour9am, @siobhanlovesfilm, @thefandomzoneisdangerous, @darthseph, @alyssah430, @pinkmoontribe-blog, @ikbenplant, @holy-kylo-stars, @werosies, @malefoygal

When you walked into your apartment with the milk and batteries you were met by the sight of Laura perched on the counter top with Basilisk wrapped around her neck, watching the door.

"And she returns." Laura said with a grin as Basil flicked his tongue towards you. You smiled back at her before putting the milk in the fridge and tossing her the batteries.

"Awesome! The batteries in the remote were just starting to go out." She said, rushing towards the TV.

"Y'know i was thinking we could finally fix the controllers and play some more Battlefront?" You suggested. You heard a delighted squeal from Laura before she groaned.

"No (y/n) we don't have time." She said with a dramatic pout. You sighed. She was right, you had work tomorrow and she had the early shift at the vet's office. Besides, you needed plenty of energy to watch Cody tomorrow.

"Why do you have to be right?" You asked, flopping dramatically onto the couch beside her and leaning against her. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning back and stroking Basilisk as if he were an expensive fur ruff.

"Because I'm amazing darling that's why." She adopted a fake British accent and you giggled before standing from your spot on the couch and helping her up. Basilisk stuck his tongue out at you before turning to loop himself once more around Laura's neck

"C'mon, we should be going to bed." She said as she walked towards the hall that branched off into her room and yours. You followed behind her, pausing in her doorway as she gently untangled Basil and held him up to her face to make a kissy noise at him. She reached to place him in the tank when you spoke.

"Hey Laur," You said. She hummed in response. You missed your girl talks that the two of you used to have. "can I talk to you?" You asked. She immediately turned to look at you with concern painting her features.

"What's wrong?" She asked, walking towards you.

"Nothing, I just miss talking with you." You said. She smiled.

"Of course we can talk hun, go get your pajamas and we'll have a girls night. It's only eight." She held Basil up to her shoulders and he twined around her neck once more as she gently stroked his back. You smiled and walked to your room to change out of your work clothes at last and into pajamas. You walked into Laura's room to see her wearing a tank top and a pair of sweatpants with Kylo Ren's lightsaber on the top of the left thigh. Basilisk was draped lazily across her shoulders as she clicked away on her laptop.

You settled yourself on her bed next to her, pressing your side against hers, pulling the buffalo plaid blanket around your shoulders and bumping your nose against Basil's when he looked at you curiously. Laura pressed play and you watched Geralt of Rivia appear on the screen.

"The Witcher? Really? You didn't get enough of him in the game?" You teased. You knew Laura had a bit of a crush on Geralt.

"Hey shut up, be nice to me." Laura said, tossing a pillow at you and tugging at her blanket.

"Does Chris know about your hard on for Geralt?" You teased.

"Of course he does, he's got one for Geralt too." She said. You laughed and rested your head on her shoulder after making sure Basilisk wouldn't be crushed.

"So what'd you want to talk about?" She asked softly. You groaned.

"I don't know. Adam I guess?" You said. Laura immediately sat up and looked at you.

"Are you finally fucking him?" She asked quickly. You gave her a bewildered look.

"No?"

"Dammit, we thought the two of you would be fucking by now." She said. You blinked at her.

"What?"

"(y/n), honey, it is so obvious you like him. Like, you're worse than Chris and I were." She said before leaning over the edge of her bed and pulling out a plastic box filled with bags of chips and boxes of crackers. She pulled a bag of chips out and a few napkins and opened the bag before popping one in her mouth. Basil leaned out to scent the bag and dropped off Laura's shoulder. Laura sighed and picked him up, placing him back around her neck.

Obvious? How was it obvious? Did Adam know? Had he picked up on it? You felt heat rising in your cheeks as Laura held a chip in front of your mouth.

"Eat it and ask your questions." She said. You opened your mouth and crunched the chip before speaking.

"How obvious?" Was your first question. You hoped to God Adam didn't know how hard you'd fallen for him.

"Ok well obvious to me but I live with you," Laura looked at your face. "but I doubt Adam noticed. He's got Cody on him 24/7 that seems to be his main focus." She said before popping another chip in her mouth. You let out a breath.

"So, what about Adam did you want to talk about?" Laura asked, not really even paying attention to the show anymore.

"Well you apparently know I like him," You said with a chuckle. "i'm watching Cody tomorrow." You said. Laura gasped before coughing violently. Basil lifted his head and opened his mouth wide. You picked him up and gently pet him until Laura stopped coughing.

"He's letting you watch his kid?" She asked, turning to you with a red face and teary eyes. You chuckled and used your sleeve to dab at her cheeks.

"Yeah, he's got work at like 7 I guess, i'm going over at 6:30." You said to her. Laura wiggled her eyebrows in a joking way and you giggled, pushing her shoulder gently. She lay down on the bed, holding her arms out for Basil. You handed him back to her and she gently took him, kissing the top of his head as he wound around her hand.

You lay in silence with her for a few moments, watching her fawn over basil and listening to the Witcher in the background. You didn't want to go to sleep just yet, but you couldn't think of anything else to tell her.

"Laura, do you think I have a chance?" You asked, turning to look at her and rested your head against her shoulder.

"With what?" Laura asked in a high pitched baby voice as she stroked Basil's head.

"With Adam you dingus." You said with a laugh as you pushed on her stomach.

"Hey! Be gentle, I might be pregnant for all you know." She turned to look at you.

"Ew gross don't put that thought in my head while I'm laying on your bed. Basil, I'm sorry you've had to witness that." You said sarcastically, putting your face in front of Basil. He flicked his tongue out and Laura chuckled.

"I do think you have a chance. He seems to like you, I mean he's letting you watch Cody." Laura said with a yawn. You stretched and rolled over so your back was facing her, and she reached over to scratch between your shoulders.

"Laura we should go to bed." You mumbled as her hand slowly stopped moving to rest on your back. She let out a soft snore and you turned your head to see her lying on her back with Basil on her chest as she snored with Basil curled around himself, breathing slowly.

You smiled, slowly getting up and picked up Basil, placing him in the elaborate tank Laura had set up for him with his humidifier, plants, and his heat lamp. It was almost a miniature ecosystem in itself enclosed in a 100 gallon tank. Basil slithered into his enclosure, promptly curling himself under the heat lamp. You slid the door shut on the front of the enclosure before pausing the show on Laura's laptop and shutting the screen. You gently pushed Laura's shoulder until she woke with a snort.

"Chris no let me sleep." She mumbled and you chuckled.

"Not Chris, best friend (y/n)." You said. She groaned and opened her eyes.

"Bed, c'mon." You said, poking her again. She let out a huff.

"I was in bed." She argued, rolling off the bed and helping you put the snacks away.

"Yes but you can't sleep with a bag of chips and box of snacks on your bed. I'd be a bad roommate if I let you." You said. She waved you away after giving you a quick hug, and you ventured to your own room for the night.

The next morning Adam was in a frenzy. Every time he thought of or did anything relating to Cody, he left a note on a sticky note to tell you where and what it was. Where his diapers were, formula, his favorite toys, his best blanket, the mittens he hated, the clean bottles, the large blanket he used for Cody to crawl on, to make sure you watched Cody because he liked to try to crawl into the back half of the apartment which was Adams wood shop and he hadn't fixed the baby gates yet so they kind of just pushed open and, and, and...

Adam wrote another note and stuck it to the top of the gates when he walked past it.

It was 5:54, you said you were going to come half an hour early so Adam could show you where things were and how to do feedings and to only try a little bit of the baby food jars because he was only seven months but Adam still wasn't totally comfortable letting him eat solids in case he was allergic or it upset his stomach but Dr. Garcia said he should but, but, but...

He wrote another note and stuck it to the shelf the baby food was on.

Then on second thought, he pushed all the jars to the back corner of the small pantry and put the box of minute rice in front of them.

Then pulled the formula from the pantry and set it on the counter. Then shut the pantry door so he wouldn't have to think about it. He heard Cody babble happily and looked into the living room to see Cody standing and clinging onto the couch.

"Dada!" Cody called, reaching one hand towards Adam before falling back onto his butt on the blanket. Adam walked over to Cody with a smile, picking him up and snuggling him against his chest. Adam playfully blew a raspberry at Cody while touching his cheek to Cody's, and Cody let out a squeal and a giggle.

"You excited little man?" Adam asked Cody, pulling him away and holding him up to look at Cody. Cody smiled his toothless smile. Well, almost toothless. Adam furrowed his brows and sat on the couch, sitting Cody on his lap as he gently opened Cody's mouth with his pinky finger. Cody squirmed as Adam brushed his gum. His bottom incisors were just starting to poke through his gums.

"Oh god why today?" He wondered aloud. He felt terrible leaving (y/n) with a teething baby, he remembered how bad Caroline said Sample was when her teeth started coming in. She would constantly scream, cry, wouldn't eat, and could never be soothed. She had gone nearly insane and Adam had to come watch Sample for a few days while she went out.

Though, he remembered how easy it had been once he got there. He had held her and comforted her, talking quietly to Sample as she cried into his shirt. She had finally stopped crying and fallen asleep against Adam's chest after nearly an hour of him pacing the room. As long as he held her, Sample was fine. He had made a bottle of formula and she'd taken half of if before crying. He'd spent the rest of the night coaxing her to eat and comforting her when she refused to let go of his shirt.

Then the memory soured when he remembered shortly after that Caroline had walked out on Laird. What was it with women he knew and walking out on their babies? He shook his head and looked down to see Cody chewing on his own hand. Adam gently pulled Cody's hand from his mouth, using the hem of his shirt to wipe the drool from Cody's mouth and chin. Cody squealed and tried to pull his head away from Adam's touch. There was a knock on the door and Adam's head snapped up as he instinctively held Cody closer to his chest. He stood to open the door to see you on the other side.

"Hey Adam, I'm not too early am I?" You asked with a grin. He felt a smile he couldn't control cross his face as he looked at you, your perfect (e/c) eyes that complimented your (s/t) skin and (h/c) hair, the nervous way you shifted your weight between your feet and the way your smile sparkled.

"Not at all, come on in kid." He said, not able to stop himself before using the nickname on you. You took it in stride as you shrugged off your coat and set your purse on the couch where he'd just been sitting. You turned to face Adam, ready for him to tell you what to do when you noticed a sticky note on the diaper bag by the door. You raised an eyebrow as you looked around the apartment.

There were sticky notes on the doors, the knobs, toys on the counter, on the cupboard, the bottles of formula in the kitchen, the door to Adam's room, the bathroom, nearly everywhere.

"Trying out a new organization system?" You asked with a chuckle, reading one of the sticky notes on the front doorknob. It read "I don't think Cody can reach this" and you chuckled. Adam's face turned red, the tips of his ears that poked through his hair turning red as well. You smiled and approached him, saying hi to Cody.

"So what do I need to know to watch this little guy hm?" You asked, making a funny face that caused Cody to giggle and squeal delightedly. Adam smiled a little bit, happy to just watch the two of you interact, but eventually cleared his throat and passed Cody off to you before walking you through the kitchen and explaining where everything was, how to make a bottle for Cody, and where the emergency numbers were listed.

He walked through the rest of the apartment, pointing out potential hazards and making doubly sure you knew about the gates of the wood shop, and that Cody liked to throw his toys behind the large African blackwood bookshelf he'd made and then cry when he couldn't reach them. Adam said if that happened, don't worry about it he would get them when he got home because the bookshelf was heavy and even he could barely lift it. He didn't know why he mentioned that part, some part of him liked being strong for you but he didn't know why. He shook his head and led you towards his room, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't curious about Adam's room. You knew your apartments were similar and two of the largest on the floor, and the rear half of the living room had been turned into Adam's wood shop. But you were surprised when he opened the door. You hadn't been expecting to see his mattress on the floor surrounded by stacks of acting magazines and screenplays. The blankets were bunched up like he'd just gotten up and the pillows were piled onto the other half of the bed. Across from the bed next to the radiator Cody's crib was nestled against the wall, with his changing table in the corner.

"Ok, his diapers are on that shelf under the changing table, and his clothes and blankets are, well, here." Adam said, stepping past you and walking towards the oak bookshelf between the two closets. He patted the middle shelf, the one at perfect chest height for him. He continued patting each shelf with Cody's things on it and explaining what each one was. Blankets, onesies, small outfits, diapers, nearly everything Adam could need during the night was stacked on the bookshelf.

The quality of the bookshelf, both this one and the one you'd seen in the living room, were amazing. You could tell Adam had put time and effort into making them both, and wondered why he didn't make woodworking his career. He could definitely make a pretty penny if all his work was up to this standard.

"Also, one more thing, I'm so sorry." Adan said, wincing slightly as Cody started fussing and chewing his own hand. You gently pulled his hand from his mouth and gave Cody a soft smile before tilting your head to Adam.

"He's teething." Adam said, waiting for an outburst.

"Aw poor man," You held Cody in front of you, "I'm sure that hurts little bud, I know growing is tough." You said, holding him close to your chest and patting his back.

"That's not a problem Adam, do you have any teething toys?" You asked. Adam looked lost and you chuckled.

"They're usually little rings with water inside them, they've got kind of a hard plastic?" You described the teething toys you'd used when babysitting before.

"Oh those things, We got a bunch when Hayley threw herself a baby shower." Adam said, opening one of the closets and digging through a bin at the bottom.

"Hayley didn't think they were cute enough for him to play with so, they just kind of got thrown in here." He said, emerging with a handful of teething toys in varying shapes and colors. You smiled, taking a fish shaped one and passing it to Cody. He took it and examined it before biting one of the fins at the back.

"I'll show you a trick Laura taught me." You said, taking some of the other teething toys from his hand and walking into the kitchen.

Adam watched you as you walked, admiring the way you moved, the way Cody seemed so comfortable with you, the way you supported his body perfectly and held him close to you. The way you talked to him, cuddled him, were there for him. He wouldn't mind waking up to you in his bed, caring for Cody. He wouldn't mind you curling yourself against his chest at night so he could hold you and protect you, welcome you into his little family.

He quickly shook his head when he realized you'd been calling him.

"You alright?" You asked with concern. Adam smiled and nodded.

"Yeah kid, yeah I'm good." He said. "So what trick did Laura teach you?" He asked. You grinned, opening the fridge and setting the teething toys on one of the shelves, placing one toy in the freezer.

"Sometimes having the toys cold helps, I don't know why but Laura's mom ran a daycare for eleven years with Laura's help and they both swear by this." You said with a smile as Cody continued chewing on the toy in his mouth.

Adam watched you as you watched Cody. He resisted the urge to step forward, hold both of you in his arms, pushed down that protective urge in him. It was there with Hayley, it's there with Cody, now it's there with you, and that scared him. He trusted you, he wanted you to be his. He wanted you to be part of his little family in his little corner of the world, tucked away in his small apartment in New York where he could keep it safe.

You looked up from Cody, seeing Adam looking at the two of you with a soft smile on his face. You felt a heat creeping into your cheeks as you looked back down to Cody, trying to suppress a smile. You didn't mind Adam looking at you like that. Actually, and you would never say it out loud, you liked it. You wanted him to look at you like that forever, wanted to fall asleep with him looking at you like that. You shook your head and glanced at the clock.

"Uh, Adam it's 6:45." You said. Adam quickly snapped himself out of his daze and looked at the clock frantically.

"Shit!" He called, running to the front room and slipping his feet into his boots, bending over to tie the laces quickly.

"Adam, calm down it's alright." You said comfortingly. Adam let out a sigh as he finished tying the laces, standing up and digging around on the table by the door for his keys. You walked towards the table, reaching under a piece of paper and handing Adam his keys. He smiled and thanked you, before quickly rushing out the door after saying goodbye to Cody.

"Alright little bud, we're gonna have fun tonight yeah?" You asked, holding Cody up in front of you. He giggled, pulling the toy from his mouth and reaching towards you.

"Mm-a!" Cody said delightedly as you tilted your head.

"Mama!" Cody squealed, finally forming the word. You blinked, slightly taken aback. If you'd expected anything from Cody it was certainly not that. You didn't even know he could speak yet.

You'd have to mention it to Adam when he got home.

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musesandmagick · 3 years

Text

Heretical Hypotheticals

in collaboration with @the-siren-saga

Hybrid Perpetual was in bliss, and it was deeply distracting.

Life at the Cathedral was mind-numbing in its simplicity. Wake up. Join the others in the Inner Circle for daily devotions. Practice etiquette, poise, entertaining– whatever her Lord and Master wished her to know. Get used to the lack of privacy. Get used to being scrutinized. Get used to never being good enough.

Occasionally, allow herself to love it.

Now, of course, she had a new duty that she'd been doing for the past few weeks– babysitting Marchosias's pet, who he'd unfortunately begun to tire of.

She'd expected something like a raíosa, or even something more exotic and fearsome such as a Nachtryr. Maybe even one of those fluffy little mewing animals that were often exported from the Seeds– what were they called again? Ca'ats? No, that wasn't it. Instead, the "pet" in question was… an Arkn woman named Laurien– or Moss Rose, as he called her. This fact made her a little sick when she first encountered her, a fact that she'd endeavored to hide as well as she could from Marchosias Aversen's prying telepathy. The Arkn was pleasant enough company, she guessed– a little naive and innocent, and reluctant to talk about anything but how much she loved her captor, but she could hardly be blamed for either of those things. And honestly, with the way she was being cast aside, Moss Rose needed a friend.

On this particular day, she took the Arkn mage out to one of the Cathedral's pleasure gardens, intent on making sure she knew that even with the way she was being thrown away, she still had someone. She seemed unfazed by her Master’s waning attention, skipping and babbling about her love for Him as always, but a trained eye could see the way her smile never reached her eyes; her skip wasn’t quite so high.

“Do you think He’s building up to something?” She wondered, pausing in her step to beam at her friend, purple beads shining in her hair as it settled, “Perhaps He has a secret! Oh! Do you think I have a new wardrobe on the way? O-or a shiny new collar! No, he did that too recently…”

Pausing to frown for a moment, she fell silent; something glazing over in her eyes as her fingers brushed the glittering band at her throat -- but it was gone as soon as it came, the smile plastered firmly back in place. “Whatever it is, I’m certain it will be grand! Our Lord never disappoints!”

"I'm not sure what He has planned," Hybrid Perpetual said, a bit distantly. I think he's just bored, she thought to herself, but didn't dare say it out loud. "You seem a bit less bubbly than usual, Laur– I mean, Moss Rose. Has everything been well? I'd like to think of myself as your friend. You don't have to hide anything from me."

She covered Laurien's small, delicate hand with her own in a gesture of comfort, and it's so much like what her Lord does, so much like what Shanna used to do. It's a gesture so simple, but it seems to implore– Let me in. Trust me. I have your best interests at heart.

Lauri glanced between Hybrid and her hand, her expression wavering for a single, heart-stopping moment. Her lips parted softly, ready to say something, but she seemed to catch herself a moment before; shaking her head with another smile and quickly tugging her hand back. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Our Lord would never-.. No, I’m just being silly. I’ve been told I’m clingy, you know? And with our Lord so… busy…”

She shrugged as if it were nothing, but her eyes glittered with unspoken worries.

Hybrid Perpetual didn't like this. It was true that the act she wore was often no better than Laurien's own single-minded devotion. It was true that sometimes, on occasion, she even let herself mean it. Even let herself sink, the way that Laurien had sunk, into an obsession from which she'd only just recovered. But this was different. His control over Laurien seemed, as with so many of them, to be absolute.

How am I supposed to wake up someone who doesn't know she's sleeping?

"It doesn't seem like nothing," she said with a sad smile, trying to slip back into the mindset of a devoted follower to make sure her words didn't come off as heretical. "And it doesn't make you disloyal to be a little upset, I promise. If the lack of His presence didn't sadden us, what joy would we find in His return?"

That had better be the right thing to say. I don't want to make things worse.

“I… suppose you’re right.” The frown touched her brow again; a slight squeeze of her brow like she was trying to shake off a headache. “I just. I-I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

She slowly rested herself down on a pristine white wall in front of rose bushes that framed her like the caged thing she was. A petal loosened itself to tangle in her hair and she plucked it out absently, handling the delicate bloom with absent eyes. “He used to give me everything. I felt like His princess; his perfect petal framed by His light.” As if to punctuate the point, she lifted the petal to the sky, the light glinting in her eyes like the sky itself were mirrored there. “And now… He still gives me such kind words, such lovely things, but it isn’t the same. D’you know what I mean?”

The petal fell from her fingertips and danced to the ground, her smile a little sad if still dreamlike as she looked back to Hybrid, “I’m probably being silly. He’s a busy God after all; how can I expect Him to be with me all the time? But it just… feels like He’s not there anymore, even when He is with me.”

Without saying a word, Hybrid Perpetual listened attentively to Laurien's struggles. The current 'counselor,' Montezuma, didn't know how to listen at all– not unless you were Tea, at least– and honestly, nobody else in the Society did either. So when Hybrid Perpetual put her own thoughts and interests aside for a moment and focused her attention completely on Laurien's pain, it came as quite a surprise.

It was only when she was finished, and not a moment before, that Hybrid Perpetual said anything at all.

"I know exactly what you mean," she hummed, looking at her with sympathy, but strangely, without pity. "Laurien–" she used her real name now– "when's the last time anyone ever just held you? Not in a possessive or greedy way, but just… because you're a person who deserves comfort?"

This is teetering on the edge of heresy. Be careful.

Laurien met her gaze for a long moment, confusion flickering there, “I-.. My Lord, he…” Swallowing heavily, she stared down at her own idly swinging feet; almost guilty. “I’m not sure. Why does it matter?”

With a quizzical tilt of her head, Hybrid Perpetual smiled thinly. "Thought so," she said with a slightly bittersweet tone. "It doesn't really matter, but… may I?"

As if she honestly hadn’t seen that coming, Lauri’s head snapped up again, eyes wide. There were conflicting questions in her mind, flickering through her ever-transparent gaze for a long silence, followed by the shortest, most sheepish nod imaginable. The guilt still hung in every breath she took as she sat there, not moving to go for the hug nor to move away; just waiting.

Hybrid Perpetual embraced her– not moving to take anything from her, not demanding any form of reciprocation. There were no overtones of expectation in the way she held Laurien close. It was just comfort, freely given. "Something is coming," she whispered. "I'm not sure what it is, or what will happen, but I want you to know that I do consider you a friend. Good luck."

As soon as the word ‘friend’ left her lips Laurien pulled away. Her expression had shifted, eyes still sparkling but the dazed smile back on her lips -- if a tad more forced this time. “You can’t tell Our Lord that. He’s-.. You can’t tell Him anything I said. Promise?”

Her smile grew wider, her panicked words and the soft-calm tone she spoke them with a chilling contrast.

"He won't know a thing." Hybrid Perpetual's smile seemed to be that of a mindlessly content worshipper, but there was an air of inscrutability from it. She, unlike most in this place, knew how to hide things. It was somewhat disconcerting.

The word "friend" was a dangerous thing in the Society of the Purple Rose. Most of the time, one used it to refer to those people who His Holiness had ordained that one should be spending time with. To use it in a more personal way– to say this person is home to me, to say we find comfort in each other– that was heretical. It was an insult to the idea of the Society as one flesh, one body, looking towards its Master as the brightest possible light. But Hybrid Perpetual… that's what she'd just done. She called Laurien a friend, in the sense of "person I have chosen to care about."

Why had she done that?

#arknverse #arkn x #arkn legacy #arkn #pink and purple #the society of the purple rose #v: arkn #drabble

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