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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years ago

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Hi! What is your very specific Twilight AU?

okay, so. New Moon.

party disaster, dumping her and dipping, all happens normally.

but THEN. Bella finds out she’s pregnant.

(and I know you’re thinking- pre-marital sex?!?! Edward would NEVER! but listen. I am the author now. I’ve been around Christians my whole life. shut up!)

so anyway after a million pregnancy tests and a lot of googling about vampire baby legends, Bella’s like...well this is probably gonna be a situation,

Nessie doesn’t have an insane growth rate here because I hate that, so she has a normal amount of time to prepare, and she’s very...aware that the birth is gonna be Rough at best. So she goes to Jacob

who is NOT a wolf yet but Is aware of the pack and the treaty, and they are closer friends already, and she’s like ‘hey. paranormal emergency. you’re the only person in this town who enables me. help.’

and Jacob’s like I’m Fucking Fifteen and goes and gets Leah, since she’s technically an adult and a girl

(ms. meyer How did you make one of leah’s only 3 character traits ‘upset she’s infertile’ and then not have her support bella’s choices in breaking dawn please make it make sense)

so they start brainstorming solutions and the best they can work with is. Bella’s gotta ride out the pregnancy in hiding. they have no way of knowing whether she can survive the pregnancy and the only clue they have about whether the baby will be a monster or not is from google searches, but they also can’t exactly take her to an obgyn when her uterus feels like it’s calcified and her ribs are getting broken and she seems to be craving blood

So, Leah’s got her own little place. Bella moves in there, telling Charlie she wants to move back in with Renee (she knows her parents would never willingly call each other so as long as she keeps up communicating with both of them they should be none the wiser of her growing a little dracula in Leah Clearwater’s basement).

Leah has already defected from the wolf pack at this point (because...the Cullen’s left and she didn’t really like any of the guys anyway lmao) so they don’t run the risk of them hearing her thoughts while she’s in wolf form. She goes out and hunts animals, brings them back and her and Jake drain the blood from them so Bella can drink it. All three of them find this extremely disgusting obviously but Jake’s loyal and a little bit lovestruck, Leah’s a supportive friend and queen, and Bella’s just trying to keep her and her baby alive, and none of them feel like trying to rob a blood bank

Bella is 100% certain the baby will just be a baby who happens to like blood, like she was in bd, but the tentative plan is that if a crazy soulless monster comes out of her Leah will...handle that...

Which neither are thrilled about, so Bella’s just trying to focus on staying positive. And between that, trying to survive and stay hidden, Bella doesn’t really have time to...Check Out the way she did in new moon. Like, she��s absolutely still depressed, and she’s still getting an occasional Edward hallucination because carrying a vampire baby counts as reckless in many books, but she’s just more...resigned and pissed than anything. She’ll have days like the ‘possibilities’ scene, but more often than not she’s just telling the Edward hallucination to go fuck himself when he’s begging her to find the real him so they can have Carlisle deal with the pregnancy

at some point, Seth gets roped into the whole mess (he’s prone to just breaking into his sister’s house) but since he’s like, 13 and The Best Baby Boy he’s immediately supportive. He didn’t even fucking know about the wolves and the vampires until he walked in on a six months pregnant Bella drinking blood while his sister and Jacob are hacking away at a dead deer, but he’s like...you know when you were 13 and sneaking around about Anything made you feel like the coolest person alive? point is he’s helpful

AND he can get away with spending a lot of time at Leah’s house without anyone finding it weird, unlike Jacob, so he starts spending most of his free time there keeping Bella company and brightening her day up

HE is the one who enables her when she comes up with the name Renesmee lmao

(just because she hates Edward doesn’t mean Esme ever did anything wrong!)

“bella I’ll throw you out of this house if you don’t come up with a real name” “leah she’s white you can’t just disrespect her culture like this omg”

anyway these four become the DORKIEST and WEIRDEST little family it’s cute

so then. labor.

it’s less...graphic than in bd because Bella hasn’t been actively dying the whole pregnancy and she doesn’t snap her spine in half, but it’s still. bad.

she essentially delivers a rock that Nessie then begins chewing her way out of. she’s actively bleeding out. Jacob’s having a panic attack. Leah made Seth watch so he would never have unprotected sex and the scare tactic is working. Leah’s covered in Bella’s blood which is not great considering she’s Holding A Rock That A Vampire Is Emerging From

Leah’s been taking classes and researching deliveries so she needs to stitch Bella up and see what else is wrong but Seth is rocking back and forth on the floor crying and Jacob’s screaming and pacing too fast to grab so she’s like. Bella babe I know you’re dying but you need to hold this thing for me ksjdfllksf

so while she’s handling That, Bella’s got this weird little rock in her arms and is watching the baby slowly fight it’s way out like this is a very fucked up egg or something and she’s just. overwhelmed. maybe it’s the blood loss but she’s looking at the messy, scrunchy little face and she’s already in love and envisioning their lives together.

and then, you know, the baby bites her,

she has just enough time to think ‘how did we not think to prepare for that’ before she can feel the venom coursing through her. it’s just as bad as she remembers from James’ bite but somehow...easier to tolerate. she blacks out pretty quickly

the other 3 notice and are like : 👁👄👁

Jacob...literally explodes into a wolf On Spot

Seth darts out the fucking door he’s seen enough for one day

Leah, sole holder of the braincell, realizes Nessie just bit and isn’t drinking from Bella, and deduces this is like...a survival instinct or something. the baby instinctively changes it’s mother first thing. weirdly...touching?

So she gets the baby and checks that everything is physically okay with Bella (apart from you know. changing species) and is like...guess this is an issue for 3 days from now Leah

more immediate pressing issues: screaming new born baby and oh, yeah, the giant red wolf in the basement,

“Jacob I know this is disorienting but if you break anything in my house I’ll fucking kill you”

she really just leaves the poor boy to go get the baby cleaned up and warm up some of the frozen blood they’ve got in her fridge (RUINING HER TUPPERWARE, BELLA)

she’s not worried about the wolf pack mind meld yet because she knows Sam took the guys on a mission way farther up the coast for a few days and they’ll be too far away to hear Jake. hopefully, by the time they get back, Bella will be awake and they’ll have made an escape plan by then

and as she’s bottle feeding blood to the baby she’s thrilled that it seems to be like...relatively normal and not s horrific monster or anything. mission: unwillingly murder my best friend’s baby has been successfully canceled

“Oh Goddamn it....Renesmee DOES fit you...”

Seth, from where he’s cowering behind the couch: “told you”

so, Jake eventually calms down, they spend the next few days cooing over Nessie and brainstorming how to handle Bella when she wakes up a vampire, and also nicknaming Nessie ‘Nessie’ because they know Bella will find that intolerable and they feel she deserves karmic punishment for stressing them out so much lmao

so, three days are up. Seth’s upstairs putting on a way-too-elaborate puppet show for the baby with not a care in the world. Leah and Jake are in the basement because they know Bella probably won’t want their wolf blood and their ready to phase in case she gets a little aggressive

but she just wakes up and is like. hey! how’s it going? where’s my baby?

sjdhfksdj they were expecting feral but Bella still has her super self-control. she didn’t even realize she’d changed into a vampire until they told her lmao

Bella’s a little too freaked out to try hunting yet so they give her some of the stored blood they’ve been feeding Ness and she’s like. good to go. Leah’s about to scream like have the elders been exaggerating this whole time or is Bella truly a freak??? lol

So, they spend a couple days just...relaxing, Bella and Renesmee bonding, they’re trying to come up with fun places Bella can move to with the baby so no one she knows finds out, and every now and then Leah and Jake go out and she tries to help him get the wolf thing under control

and then,,,,the pack get back from their mission early

and immediately are able to read Jacob’s mind

so they head over to Start Shit because there’s two bloodsuckers on their land but,

the pack not attacking because Jake imprinted on Renesmee? tired. the pack not attacking because Jake’s Alpha Genes have taken over and declared Nessie and Bella as part of his Pack and attacking would literally start a war? inspired

so they hash the whole thing out....ultimately Sam decides Bella is more of a victim than a threat, and since neither her or Nessie seem to be going on a bloodlust rampage any time soon...he decides to grant them immunity from the whole ‘kill the vampires’ rule. He’ll let her and her daughter stay in La Push as long as they agree to stick to animals and only hunt out of town. PLUS from what little Bella knows about the Volturi, she’s worried about them finding out about Nessie, so they’ll offer protection if that does happen, in exchange for her being able to help them with intel on any other vampire threats in the area (you know like. if a nomad is fucking stuff up in a nearby city, they’ll send her to talk to them first before deciding if they need to intervene. Sam has become acutely aware he has a lot of teens and kids in his pack, so he’s trying to keep them out of fights as much as possible)

anyway that’s the story of Nessie gaining like 17 chaotic as hell ride or die uncles,

let’s fast forward a bit

it’s like 15 years later. Bella’s not living with Leah anymore, but she’s got a cute apartment in a nearby town, and owns and runs a bookstore on the first floor of it. she got her ged and did college online and teaches night classes at a community college. She’s still in contact with her parents, who Adore the life out of Nessie. She still helps the pack out and they’re all close. Nessie is a handful but in a fun and lovable way. They go on little weekend trips whenever they have time. Bella’s happy.

but then a. Situation. arises.

basically, the Volturi have been made aware of some unknown vampire chasing others out of the pacific northwest and conspiring with shapeshifters. and you know when Aro gets curious he tends to spin things dramatically. who’s to say this vampire isn’t conspiring against all vampires? against them? why has no one’s special talents worked on her? he simply must find out.

Bella and the Pack get word and decide their best course of action for now is to go on the run. they’re not gonna be able to take on a whole army but if they can bide some time and lay low they might be able to figure something out

except Bella is like....I have a teenage hybrid that the Volturi don’t know about yet...it would be EXTREMELY irresponsible to take her with me

but she can’t send Nessie to Charlie or Renee because they don’t know about her...dietary restrictions. She can’t stay with Billy or anyone else in La Push because the Volturi might trace the pack’s scent there and discover her. She’s panicking, they have to leave in a few days max and she can’t find a safe place for her daughter

and then she’s like.....fuck.

she had run into Jasper a couple of years ago- they have the same forgery guy and were heading to his building around the same time as a coincidence. She promised to forgive him for the party incident if he promised not to tell Edward he saw her and that she’s a vampire now. He agreed, but then told her Edward’s been living on his own for a while now and insisted on giving her his number...she never could bring herself to call it or delete it...but now...if she wants to be 100% Nessie is safe and protected...

fuck

So, the past 15 years have been fairly rough for Edward

he’s still convinced leaving in order to save Bella was the best course of action, but like...the vampires canonically mate for life. that’s his soulmate. he’s absolutely miserable without her. he’s thought about cracking and going to find her again but he always talks himself out of it, convinced she’d just tell him she hates him or something

so as stated in his patented Edward Cullen Self Loathing Guide, first thing to do is isolate yourself from all the lovebirds you usually live with. Sure, he keeps in contact, but...not well. he’s currently living alone and posing as a university student. He’s not even really sure what he’s supposed to be majoring in. He’s mostly been in a haze since he left Forks.

and one day....he gets a call from an unknown number. he ignores it, thinking it’s a spam call. but then it calls like 8 more times in a row and he figures answering might be a bit smarter than simply throwing it at the wall

And Edward...swears he came back to life and immediately had a heart attack the second he hears Bella’s voice

He feels breathless and disoriented the whole conversation, trying to figure out if his memory did her voice any justice, trying to rush out 15 years worth of apologies, trying to comprehend she’s actually speaking to him.

But Bella’s very blunt on the phone. She doesn’t want to let herself get emotional. She’s on a time limit, and she has to focus on getting her daughter to safety

And Edward swears he somehow misheard her the first ten or so times she told him. He had a daughter? that wasn’t possible

“she has the audacity to be your Evil Twin so I’m pretty sure it’s possible”

so she gives him a rundown. she needs to go into hiding, no I don’t need your help with that, gives him details about Nessie, what she’s like, what she likes to do, her diet, her favorite color, how annoyed she is by this whole situation, “Edward I know you don’t love me anymore, but I remember how protective you were, and that’s what I need Nessie to have right now. She needs you right now” and Edward wants so badly to refute Bella’s claim of lost love, to tell her he has absolutely no idea how to be a parent, but...her tone is aching so much he can barely speak. He can’t let Bella down again, and he can’t let this little girl he foolishly created and left down anymore than he already has, either.

So he agrees, she tells him to be at the airport in a few days, and hangs up.

Edward loses about half a day staring at a wall in shock, before he jumps into preparations.

Bella told him while their daughter possessed some speed and strength, hunting was fairly dangerous for her. She was more delicate than his kind, and had a heartbeat. Reheated blood bags had been their best option, and she also needed human food as well. He also had to get a room ready for her- he wandered around stores for hours, reading young girls minds to see if there was any furniture or decorations that were universally liked- which was of course, fruitless, but he did manage to find a handful of things he was sure Bella would have liked at that age, and prayed for the best. He somehow got himself covered in purple paint that was a nightmare to get off. Bella had sent him some forged documents claiming Nessie was his younger sister he’d won custody of, and he got her enrolled in a nearby school. He lived every day leading up to her arrival staving off a panic attack.

it wasn’t until he was on the way to the airport that he realized he forgot to inform his family about this life update. they must’ve been on a hunting trip, because he got nothing but voicemails

imagine being Carlisle and you come home to a voicemail from your son who’s banished himself from the family that’s just like ‘hi. you’re a grandfather now. I’m having a nervous breakdown and might crash my car. call me back at your earliest convenience I suppose” like what would you DO

after he gets to the airport he starts panicking again, realizing Bella had never actually sent him a picture, worrying about how he’d find her, but then- he sees a tiny girl with untamed, dark red curls, features strikingly similar to his own that are pulled into the expression Bella always made when she was reading, absently chewing on her lip, and before she looks at him with her mother’s big brown eyes, he already knows who he’s looking at, and he’s certain if he was human his tear ducts would be having a fit right now

Renesmee, however, seems less willing to have an emotional meeting. She mumbles out a simple greeting before gathering up her bags and heading for the door, Edward rushing behind her to try and help

listen. the awkwardness of Charlie trying to connect with Bella. but 10000x worse because of Edward’s overthinking, self-deprecating ass and Nessie being like ‘ah yes the guy who broke my pregnant teenage mothers heart, fantastic’ lmao

the car ride is p a i n f u l. Edward’s trying so hard for light conversation and Nessie’s barely giving one word answers. Bella had warned her about the mind reading so she was carefully keeping her mind blocked, which Edward is trying very hard to be understanding about instead of annoyed, but By God does he want to know everything about her

when they get back to his place, she quietly thanks him for the room and then promptly locks him out of it lol. He spends the rest of the day just pacing back and forth until he realizes he should eventually feed her lmao

and that’s...kinda how the first couple weeks go. she only emerges from her room if he bribes her with food, she awkwardly tries to dodge his questions, he drives her to school and then begs her to tell him how it went when he picks her up, he spends his college classes distracted because he’s freaking out constantly about how to successfully bond with her. His favorite time of day now is night, because she can’t block her mind while she’s asleep, and even if her dreams are all nonsense they’re still...part of her that he gets to know.

His family keeps begging him to let them meet her, but he’s pushing back because if she’s this bad at adjusting to one new family member, how is she going to handle six more?

(meanwhile Alice and Rose started a group chat with her and are having a ball clowning Edward lmao)

wait ksjflksd I think this vine perfectly sums up the dynamic im envisioning https://youtu.be/wQZIUHNORHg

anyway they....very slowly make some progress. much too slowly for Edward’s taste, but hey.

Like he finds out snacks she likes. or jewelry she likes. stuff like that and just...wordlessly leaves it around for her lmao. he thinks it’s like trying not to startle a deer, Nessie thinks it’s more like a cat trying to gift you a dead mouse, but either way it’s weirdly endearing.

He notices she always has a huffy little frown when he picks her up on Wednesdays. So instead of begging her for an ounce of information of her school life, he asks her one Wednesday morning if she’s excited for the day and she admits she has an elective class every Wednesday with a girl she doesn’t get along with.

He gets her school photos (and Weeps) and realizes apart from her room the home is fairly barren of decorations, so he buys a bunch of picture frames and hangs up the school shots, and some pictures of the Cullen’s over the years, and the few he has of Bella that he could never bear to part with. Other than catching her smiling at the prom picture of her parents, Nessie doesn’t say anything- but the next time he comes home from hunting, there’s a pile of pictures of her growing up on the table, and he starts weeping all over again as he hangs them up

(there’s one of her and Bella hugging and looking at the camera with identical grins and joy in their eyes, he can’t help but put that in his room. He hopes one day he’ll get to see a scene like that in person)

He starts trying to get her out of her room a little more- he still hasn’t managed to a get a ‘favorites’ list out of her, so he starts playing movies Bella loved, to see if any of them lure her out. some do, some don’t- he got halfway through a Lord of the Rings marathon, which was Torture in his opinion, but then Ness came out and quietly asked if he could restart it and suddenly they became his favorite movies ever.

Bella’s not able to contact her on a set schedule or anything because of her situation (and you can bet your ass Edward’s contacted every vampire he knows and ordered them to help her out if they come across her or the Volturi), and Edward realizes that’s probably taking a toll on the girl, so he starts telling her stories of her mother when he knew her in Forks. She’s particularly amused by the blood typing incident- the first time Edward hears Nessie properly laugh, he literally starts crying on the spot

could you imagine the sheer panic if she ever gets so much as a cold

And yes, she’s still pissed on Bella’s behalf, and yes, she specifically blasts 70s music because Bella told her he hates it one time, and yes, if he looks at her like he’s a kicked puppy one more time she might claw his eyes out, and yes, she refuses to introduce him to her friends from school because she Knows everyone will then start asking her about her ‘hot brother’ and she can’t live with that and also can’t live with him knowing that so she told him if he ever introduces himself to any of her friends she’ll set him on fire, and yes, she’s homesick 95% of the time but...he’s growing on her. like a mold, or something.

(okay, maybe when Seth tried to analyze why Mamma Mia is her favorite musical, he might have had a point. half a point. quarter of a point. shut up.)

And Edward’s still trying to not have a panic attack every time she’s out of his sight- he’s got Carlisle keeping tabs on the Volturi for him, and it’s not exactly hard for him to keep track of her through other people’s minds- but she’s so tiny and her heartbeat is Too Fast and what if she inherited her mother’s unlucky streak??

but they’re toeing the line of co-existing peacefully and Edward’s scared to push it past that

then he has to, because it turns out he sent her to one of Those Schools where the parents have to be involved in the school in some way or another and Nessie’s Annoyed

sdkjfsdkjf she keeps trying to get him to just sign up for like pta meetings or something and he’s like ‘I need you to understand you are the only person in this town I actually know or like I Cannot survive around fundraiser moms I can’t’

so she’s like ugh fine I’m in the drama club

listen.....Stage Parent Edward Cullen.......the power this holds...

that’s right this whole post was an elaborate ruse for me to make a musical theater headcanon again lmao

no okay but seriously he starts off just helping build sets and stuff like that but then midway through the year their music teacher gets fired and the schools like begging him to take over because they can’t find someone in enough time that’ll know the music for the show they’re doing and he’s like “I need you to understand Nessie will never talk to me again if I start actually working at her school” and they’re like “She also will never talk to you again if we have to cancel the big musical, though” and he’s like. fuck.

silent treatment for a week and a half

lmao so now he’s trying to juggle being an overly-enthusiastic stage parent who’s making costumes and sets and kinda crying backstage when he sees his daughter in her costume with also being the music director for the damn show and trying to teach a bunch of kids how to read sheet music

one day he ended up in a coffee shop with the hair and makeup moms, gossiping about the cast’s love lives, and he literally doesn’t know how he got there

is it wrong to pass Nessie in class even though she’s putting all the wrong answers on the test but he Knows she knows the right answers and is only answering wrong to try and get a rise out of him

Bella sneaks into town to see the show- they thought it would push their luck if the pack came, but they sent an ungodly amount of flowers and candy. When she snuck into the house while Ness was sleeping she Was Not expecting to find Edward up to his elbows in sequins, trying to fix a bedazzler he accidentally broke in frustration, muttering under his breath about how if Nessie’s romantic opposite in the show doesn’t keep his thoughts clean he’s gonna kill him- and it just cracks her up. She WAS nervous about seeing Edward again but now she’s assured he’s still a dork lol

So Edward freaks when he sees her but they don’t wanna wake Ness up so they’re trying to be quiet but like. they’re going through it

Like Bella Wants to be pissed at him but she can’t, she still loves him- and while she can’t just get over what he did to her, it’s also not lost on her that ‘leaving to protect someone I love’ is literally what she had to do to her daughter

And Edward....Edward, who only left to give Bella a chance at a safe, human life, seeing Bella in front of him as a vampire, knowing it’s his fault she ended up that way and she had to go through it alone, had to raise a baby herself because he’d made it so hard to find him...knowing if he’d just pulled his head out of his ass he would have been able to be there for her...would be able to form a coherent sentence around his love right now, would have long and fond memories of Nessie’s childhood, likely wouldn’t have to watch Bella hide from the Volturi...he’s back in a self-loathing spiral already

But they haven’t seen each other in so long and they just don’t want to...deal with the unpleasantness right now, so they just push it aside. Bella helps Edward with the costumes. Edward fills her in on what she’s been missing with Nessie. Bella tells him some stuff about when Ness was younger. They just spend the night talking, and it feels like no time has past between them at all- which just makes the heartaches a little stronger

When Nessie wakes up to her mother there she’s ecstatic- bubbly and loud and glued to Bella’s hip all day, giving her in depth play-by-plays of her school and rehearsals and friends she’s made, bouncing on her toes all morning, hyper, giggly, and- it kind of breaks Edward’s heart a little, even though he knows he hasn’t really...earned this side of his daughter, yet.

(at least he got his wish of seeing their twin smiles in person)

(he wishes he could see them every second of every day)

so the girls spend the day catching up while Edward mostly feels like a thirdwheel, and then they have to get Ness over to the school so she can get ready

Bella decides to hang out around the school theater before the show actually starts- she leans against the wall next to the piano, the two talking in hushed tones while Edward runs through songs. Bella really missed watching him play- the only thing that managed to drag her away from it was when Nessie called her to the dressing room to help with a hair emergency

she didn’t talk to him much at intermission, her attention being stolen by the rest of the Cullen family (who had been Very Loudly supporting the show so far, she knew Ness was probably dying of embarrassment backstage)

after the show, the three went back to Edward’s and just...talked. Nessie was gushing about the show and eating while her parents assured her she was the greatest actress ever born, simple stuff like that. she fell asleep sandwiched in between them on the couch

Bella realizes she’s never going to be able to bring herself to leave again if Nessie wakes up, and tells Edward as much. He clearly doesn’t want her to go just yet either, but...she’s on the run, it’s not like she has much choice

He has so much he wants to say to her but he just- can’t. it’s not the right time. but he’s hoping she can see that in his eyes

Bella shifts Nessie off her shoulder so Edward can hold her, and she gives him a light kiss and says ‘thank you, Edward’ before disappearing in a flash. she needed to go before she lost her nerve.

Edward can’t bring himself to let Nessie out of his arms, so instead of carrying her to bed he just stays there, holding her, trying his best not to think that that could be the last time for a long time he’d ever see his Bella again, trying not to let thoughts of a life he gave up unwittingly consume him

okay I didn’t mean for this to be So Long so I’m cutting it here uhh...let me know if anyone wants a part 2? sorry lmao

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #edbella #twilight saga #asks #molly mumbles #elephantlovingmouse

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sk1fanfiction · 4 years ago

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 2

-you dislike frank dillane’s portrayal of tom riddle only because you don’t think he’s attractive-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION (and this time, featuring a bit of armchair child psych from a student).

Wait, don’t clutch your pearls just yet. Compose yourself.

I am about to explain why it’s not actually that bad, and Dillane’s portrayal is vastly underappreciated.

I definitely agree that his portrayal comes off as ‘creepier’. It’s not helped by the stylistic decisions in the scene -- the smeary, green filter gives the scene a sinister quality.

Even Slughorn looks suspect here, which is somewhat appropriate, given that he is complicit in this crime.

Again, this scene is very much intended to be slightly off.

You’ll notice (and I’ll discuss this again when I talk about Coulson’s portrayal) that Dillane is almost always shot from at least slightly below, which makes the lower third of his face look bigger (and thus more menacing). The lighting also makes his eyes glow in a really unnatural way. There’s an echo-y effect to make his voice (and not Slughorn’s) sound unnerving.

People talk about how Coulson would have looked in this scene, and if he was filmed in the same way (monotone, smeary/shadowy filter, and always from below), he’d look a bit creepy, too.

But all of this, imo, is for a pretty good reason. Slughorn isn’t the POV character. Harry is. Harry is learning about how a young Lord Voldemort wheedled the secret of Horcruxes out of an unsuspecting teacher. Unlike in COS, he expects Riddle to be evil. And, so, Harry’s new perception of Tom Riddle literally colors how we perceive him.

Take this shot, for example: he does that head-tilt thing that Coulson does, and it’s actually... kind of... cute???

Imagine Dillane filmed from slightly above, like Coulson usually is, and it looks even more innocent. (I mean, come on, he does not look like he’s killed four people, does he?) It’s not hard to imagine teachers being taken in by this kind of act.

Even that little smirk he does when the camera (aka, Harry’s gaze) pans in, is for Harry’s benefit. No one else noticed that.

However, I still fail to find this creepy, like, at all. Yes, it’s a fake smile, but he’s portraying a different side of Tom Riddle to Coulson. Whereas, in COS, he’s in his vindictive, murderous element, where he’s free to express himself, in this scene, Tom Riddle is doing what he does best -- manipulating and managing appearances.

This entire scene is an act. And because Harry knows it’s an act, it should look a bit stilted.

From the Hepzibah Smith scene in the books: Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

So, Harry is pretty adept at parsing Tom’s fake expressions.

But just look at the expressiveness in his face: he goes from brooding, he blinks, and his entire face changes to this charming (fake) smile.

At the risk of sounding elitist, I’m a bit tired of seeing the word ‘psychopath’, which is not an actual medical diagnosis recognised by any psychological or psychiatric institution, being tossed about, especially with reference to Tom Riddle (and from a neuroscience perspective, it’s doubly annoying). There’s no such thing as ‘insanity’ or ‘psychopathy’ or being ‘crazy.’

-although I use it too a shorthand in conversation to distinguish ‘canon’ Tom from his ‘softer’ OOC counterparts, I really shouldn’t-

Unfortunately, I’ve seen the ‘psychopath’ comment used time-and-time again as an excuse or a full explanation of ‘why Tom Riddle went evil’ (JKR in fact, has made a weird comment in an interview, basically saying that ‘psychopaths can’t be redeemed or learn adaptive coping skills’ or whatever), which really just goes to show the lack of understanding and compassion when personality disorders, especially, are concerned.

But what I like most about the opening of this scene, actually, is that first, listless expression. And this is where we get slightly into headcanon, but Tom Riddle is the opposite of a happy, mentally healthy teenager. By Dumbledore’s own admission, he has no real friends. He has no parental figures, no real attachments. Yes, he might derive some pride or enjoyment from being good at magic and top of his class and all that, but I really don’t think even Tom finds that truly fulfilling. There is nothing that makes him happy.

In fact, although some might perceive it as ‘creepy’, I think that listless expression is an accurate window into Tom’s psyche.

I know people aren’t big on Freud, but I think that he does make some interesting points (also, cut the guy some slack for being relatively open-minded for the Victorian Era, and inventing psychoanalysis and while yes he did say some sexist stuff, good luck finding a field of science that isn’t male-focused and makes crazy generalizations about women, especially back in the day) about the possible origins of thanatophobia, the fear of death.

According to Freud, thanatophobia is a disguise for a deeper source of concern -- he did not believe that people were capable of conceptualizing their own death to that extent. Instead, he believed that this phobia was caused by unresolved childhood conflicts that the sufferer cannot come to terms with or express emotion towards.

Now, I know Freud almost always attributes mental distress to childhood experiences, but I think in this case, it really has some merit.

According to attachment theory, the basis of how we form attachments in adulthood is dictated by learning it from experiences with caregivers in the first two years of life. We know Tom was born in an orphanage, and that he didn’t cry much as a baby, and subsequently, probably received very little attention. Compounded with possible genetic factors and his caregivers being afraid or wary of his magical abilities, he later struggled to form attachments because of this -- I would actually go so far as to say that by the time Dumbledore meets him, Tom Riddle is severely depressed.

And that flat affect and anhedonia, I think, comes over very well in Dillane’s portrayal. There’s kind of this resignation -- a very deep sadness and loneliness to his character.

Of course, he doesn’t derive any comfort or fulfillment from human interaction, because (to borrow the description from the Wikipedia article on ‘Reactive attachment disorder’, which Tom meets all the criteria for) he has a “grossly disturbed internal working model of relationships.” In other words, he is unresponsive to all offers of attachment because of this unacknowledged trauma.

(You could arguably class Tom as having an avoidant attachment style, but I think in his case the trauma and its effect on him are severe enough to call it disordered.)

RAD isn’t particularly well-characterized (especially neurologically) and quite new in the literature, but here are some links if anyone is interested in doing a bit of digging: Link 1 | Link 2 | Paper 1 | Paper 2

And, instead of trying to resolve this conflict in a healthy way, or at least recognize that this is why he can’t be happy and try to learn how to cope from there, he (a) represses the desire for human attachment and (b) funnels that negative emotion into being the fault of Death, the Grim Reaper (again, to borrow Freudian terms).

And we all know how that turned out...

(And now, this should go without saying, but psychoanalyzing fictional characters has nothing to do with assigning a morality to mental disorders. Mental illness is neither a cause nor an excuse for criminal behavior -- in the same way that the cycle of violence is a phenomenon, not an excuse. Tom Riddle did not become a genocidal murderer because, in common parlance, he was a ‘psychopath’ -- he was not necessarily ‘predisposed’ to evil and could just as easily chosen to not follow the path that he did -- instead, he willingly made poor choices. This is a descriptive analysis, not a justification -- a ‘how’, not a ‘why’)

Here’s a Carl Jung quote that articulates it better:

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

Yes, he’s a bit stiff (and a lot more formal than in COS during his *conversation* with Harry). But, and here comes the controversial bit, this is appropriate for a portrayal of a schoolboy in the 1940s. The upright posture is accurate -- respectful, polite -- everything Tom Riddle would have been expected to be (and even Coulson, in that scene with Dumbledore in COS, is quite stiff). Even the way he looks at Slughorn and maintains eye contact is very *respectful.*

And, Dillane (I think he’s seventeen or eighteen here) actually looks like a believable sixteen-year-old. I’m sorry, I love Coulson’s portrayal as well, but he looks around nineteen in COS; so in HBP, he probably would have looked at least twenty-two or so. (Sorry, not sorry).

This may be influenced by my own interpretation of the character (because I imagine Tom always looks young for his age, and Dillane fits that archetype, but I don’t think that’s very popular), but I think young Tom Riddle is supposed to be *cute* and a bit stiff/shy/awkward (being charming and awkward is very much possible), if you consider the way Dippet and Slughorn treat him.

To support this, he says very few words to Hepzibah Smith (in the book, that scene’s not in the movie), and is very... bashful and coy during the whole interaction? I think yes, he’s charismatic, but he’s not loud, suave, openly flirtatious or particularly verbose. Tom Riddle should have a quiet magnetism, and to me, that came across in Dillane’s portrayal.

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

...

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh yes," said Voldemort quietly. "Yes, I'm very well. ..."

Even the ‘ugly, greedy look’ described in the books, when Slughorn starts spilling his secrets, is there. This is how he’s supposed to look! Slughorn glimpses it, but doesn’t understand its significance. Harry does.

“Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.”

Remember the context of this moment, as well: He’s just discovered how to create multiple Horcruxes. Excuse him for looking a bit creepy (if not now, then when?).

Here’s two direct quotes of Harry’s impression of Tom Riddle in that scene:

“But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.”

“Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .”

Tom Riddle’s Horcruxes are a direct metaphor for his refusal to allow himself to heal from his trauma -- instead, he continues to inflict destruction on himself and others.

His desire to continue creating more Horcruxes sort of resounds with the fact that self-harm can also become a compulsion.

I’d also like to digress a bit to discuss the Gaunt Ring, while we’re at it. While we’ve talked about his attachment issues in general, this discussion is particularly pertinent to father figures. And while Tom’s attachment issues are extensive, I think there’s ample evidence that as a child, he craved acknowledgement and acceptance from a father figure -- the man who gave him the only thing Tom truly owned -- his name. He would have had a vaguely defined mother figure in Mrs. Cole, perhaps.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was.... He didn’t like magic, my father ... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage ... but I vowed to find him ... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name ... Tom Riddle. ..."

We know that by June of 1943 (COS flashback) Tom has already uncovered the truth of his parentage; he knows he is the Heir of Slytherin via the Gaunt line, and he describes himself to Dippet as ‘Half-blood, sir. Witch mother, Muggle father.’

In Part 1, I discussed the high probability that as a presumed ‘Mudblood’, Tom Riddle was treated rather poorly in Slytherin House. But by this scene in the fall of 1943, he is surrounded by a group of adoring hangers-on. Why?

In my opinion; the Gaunt Ring. We know that Tom stopped wearing it after school, so its sentimental value couldn’t have been that great. We know he likes to collect objects (which I believe stems from his attachment issues -- he seeks comfort in things instead of other people).

Signet rings (such as the one belonging to Tutankhamun seen above) were used to stamp legal documents and such, in order to certify someone’s identify -- like an e-certificate, if you will. Like Tutankhamun’s ring, the Gaunt Ring bears an identifying symbol -- Marvolo Gaunt tells us proudly that it bears the Peverell family crest.

By the Middle Ages, anyone of influence, including the nobility, wore a signet ring. Rings in antiquity were auspicious -- they signified power, legitimacy, and authority. And so, I believe that all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families would have worn these, too.

And so, bearing the Gaunt Ring would have established Tom Riddle, symbolically and in the eyes of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (his future supporters and followers), as the legitimate heir to the House of Gaunt. This is why, I believe, Tom coveted the ring as soon as he saw it -- not just because it was a family heirloom, and not just because he thought it was a pretty toy for his collection.

(He curses it so that no one else but him can wear the Gaunt Ring safely.)

This is why, to make the legitimization literal as well as symbolic, Tom murders his father and grandparents. It’s not just an act of vindictive, murderous rage due to his perception of being rejected by his father (although it is that, too). And so, Tom, abandoning his search for a father figure (and possibly also giving up on the possibility to allow himself to heal from his own personal trauma rather than continue to inflict it on others), ‘cleanses’ his bloodline, to make himself truly legitimate. It’s rather telling that instead of affirming his legitimacy as a Riddle, which would have put him in line for a nice inheritance, and hey -- money is money -- (thus accepting his half-blood status), he simply kills them all. He has done all the murdering he needs to become immortal (and he hasn’t had the discussion about multiple Horcruxes yet); but yet, he does it again. Frightening stuff.

(Just look how the others look at Tom. All but the one to his left -- possibly Nott, Rosier, or Mulciber -- have their torsos turned towards him. Their attention is on him, while he knowingly regards the viewer/Harry. Tom seems a little uncomfortable with the attention.).

“And there were the half-dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.”

...

“Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.”

...

“Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.”

The ‘gang’ are true hangers-on; Tom doesn’t seem to pay them much attention.

So, if not via careful flattery or charisma, the attraction must be status.

And perhaps yet more telling...

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." “A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.”

That, in my opinion, is as good as we’re going to get as proof that Tom’s shiny new signet ring (and by extension, his new status) made a big impression on his fellow students.

So, when he returns to Hogwarts, he is ‘pureblood’. He is cleansed of his Muggle roots, and becomes the legitimate heir of the House of Gaunt, now well on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort...

Watch the scene again, with a critical eye, and imagine Slughorn’s perspective, instead of Harry’s. There’s nothing creepy about Tom Riddle... unless you know what he is...

Strip away all the effects of Harry’s gaze (and notice, here he’s still looking at Harry), and he’s quite the charmer, actually.

(I will concede that I don’t like the promotional images where they have him looking like he’s up to no good. And I do wish he blinked once in a while.)

My challenge to you: Rewatch the scene with an open mind, and let me know if you agree that Dillane’s portrayal comes off as depressive rather than ‘creepy.’ And if not, why do you dislike his portrayal?

#tom riddle #character analysis #character study #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #frank dillane #i literally could not find any pictures other than these #literal crumbs i swear #i know this is unpopular #people really dislike him i guess #watch the scene again with an open mind i promise you'll like it #i seriously do think he did a good job #tw: mention of child abuse #tw: mention of self-harm #i'm not trying to oversimplify things but you can't deny that maybe if tom was hugged as a child it would have helped #say it with me: psychopathy is not an actual medical diagnosis #it's actual more of a legal/criminal justice term #and people just use it as a synonym for 'evil' at this point so the original meaning is pretty much obscured #and personality disorders should not be moralized #people with personality disorders are not 'evil'

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

sukirichi’s 2.4k milestone event

weee another milestone and nooo i couldn’t wait for 2.5k because i’m so excited and happy, thank you so much! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ including HAIKYUU this time around yeeeee! also i don’t have a restaurant aesthetic anymore, just kind of goofing around now! REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

before you request...

please read about my writings first! it will include the stuff i write and don’t write about. i’m more flexible in nsfw works, so if you really want to try for a kink, just send me in and if the idea is up to my liking, we’ll see how it goes!

please be patient and nice! if i don’t like the tone of your request or if you’re ‘demanding’ me, aka, “hey, write this for me, this concept...” your ask will immediately be deleted!

no requesting of the same idea to other writers please!

please keep in mind i don’t do too much canon-heavy plots, aka really specific canon events and how they lead up to one another. i don’t read the manga for both jjk and haikyuu ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ

I do not do headcanons anymore. I’m not good at them LMAO.

i feel a lot more laid back in my writings now, so i’ll only be taking requests that i want to write for! the accepted requests will be listed down below as i organize them

you may refer to my first milestone event if you want more ideas for AU requests! you no longer need to include the numbers/spices/ingredients format used in that. just send whatever idea you want ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU. whichever idea i love the MOST will be turned into a series just because I want to try new things hehe!

— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)

: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento

: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, miya twins, kita shinsuke, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, bokuto koutarou, akaashi keiji, tetsuro kuroo

— characters i can only write sfw for

: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

: kenma kozume

— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for

: fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin, ryoumen sukuna, gojo satoru

: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, kita shinsuke, oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji

accepted requests: (only accepting the ones that interest me for now!)

favorites marked as ⭐

RYOUMEN SUKUNA: hello love!! i know it LITERALLY just came out but would you consider a pt 2 or a drabble for sweet lies? where megumi either catches her and sukuna or she genuinely starts moving on uasdfghj i'm convinced that megumi heard her fucking sukuna in the bathroom <3 anyways pls feel free to ignore me too

RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Ma’am , i beg of u ,,, spare husband! sukuna x wife! reader drabble. I just read your arranged marriage AU and lordddd i’m obsessed. How long did it take for him to take her virginity 😳? i’m so curious as to how that went down read here: black magic [02]

⭐⭐ RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Yooooo how about Rockstar Sukuna seducing his manager ehehehehe~

⭐ RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Ok but... pirate captain Sukuna 👀👀👀 I’m havin some Thots ngl 🥵🤤 I can’t decide whether reader should be the first mate and they’re a kickass Power Couple 💪😎or if she should be a stowaway who gets found out and has to pay for her passage with her body 😩😉

OKKOTSU YUTA: We both be weak for yuuta and toge😩 congrats 2.4k btw. so i'll request that for the event! poly!yuuta and toge. i see that you only write sfw for them so fluff. u can think of anything you want for it..and yes we simp for both of them i love them sm🤧

⭐ OKKOTSU YUTA: Hi saw that your request are open and congrats for the 2.4k !! 🎊 if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that's his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it's y/n and she doesn't die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3 | kiss me more

⭐ OKKOTSU YUTA: Hi can i request a scenario in which inumaki and okkotsu gets hit with a curse(?) That makes them a clone but the clone is a kid and seeing their gf taking care of the baby please thank youuu

INUMAKI TOGE: Toge's S/O being so sad that even when he says "smile" it doesn't work( also saw that in TikTok)

⭐ INUMAKI TOGE: Hi can i request a scenario in which inumaki and okkotsu gets hit with a curse(?) That makes them a clone but the clone is a kid and seeing their gf taking care of the baby please thank youuu

INUMAKI TOGE: We both be weak for yuuta and toge😩 congrats 2.4k btw. so i'll request that for the event! poly!yuuta and toge. i see that you only write sfw for them so fluff. u can think of anything you want for it..and yes we simp for both of them i love them sm🤧

⭐ INUMAKI TOGE: Hi! Congrats on 2.4k!!🤩 For the event, may I request an au where reader is Yuuta's sister? Can be gn/fem reader anything is fine. And they fall in love with Toge? Fluff fluff fluff please🥺Maybe they meet one day when she went to visit the school? Or she's a new sorcerer. Aahhhh I can't think of anything so I'll leave it up to your wonderful mind😌 Thank you! And again congrats! | crush

INUMAKI TOGE: SUKI OMG SIREN AU WITH TOGE AND DEAF READERHis voice hypnotizes all who hear it but she’s unaffected and he’s shook lmao 😂 She teaches him human sign language so they can communicate 🥺 maybe when he realizes he likes her he brings her seashells and other shiny things from the sea floor and it’s so cute 🥰 just 🥺🥺 siren Toge 🥺🥺🥺 (DEBATING)

GOJO SATORU: Hello dear Suki! 🤗 congrats on your more than deserved milestone 👏🏼🥳 I know it’s not the restaurant aesthetic anymore but still, thank you for being a Michelin-star chef spoiling the fandom with your food 🤤👀 I’d love to request the following: ingredient 66 with sugar 8 & 9 and Gojou as cherry on top 🥰 some heavy angst with a happy / smutty ending. additional 🍪 for inspiration - „Best friends don’t look at each other the way you look at her. You never know what will happen, tomorrow might be too late“. Have a lovely day dear 💕

GOJO SATORU: Congrats on 2.4K!!!! May I please request a fic where the reader has like. Zero reaction to Gojo? And he’s kinda shook bc people either adore him or hate him, but here’s reader acting like he’s just a normal dude. And he starts falling for her bc he’s never experienced that before

⭐ GOJO SATORU: a reader that likes Gojo but immediately says N O P E bc they clock that he’s at risk of breaking their heart so they just try to avoid getting close to him despite being a teacher stuck with him a lot of the time. And Gojo is just like ??? But I like you??? Why are you always avoiding me? “I’m tired of you acting like I can’t commit to something. Committing to you is easy.”

⭐ GOJO SATORU: ♡Soft nsfw scenario with s/o and gojo while outside is snowing read here: cold

⭐ GOJO SATORU: Ohoho~ another milestone! Congrats~Can I get Vampire!Satoru x Monster Hunter!Reader where he “proves” to her that all of his victims came willingly(I think from the AU choice you’ll know exactly who I am lol 😉)

⭐ GOJO SATORU: hello! first and foremost, congratulations on reaching 2.4k! i love your writing and its just oh my goodness <3 your stories made my heart squeezed! second of all, i'd like to propose a request for a story. fluff/angst (up to you! your way of writing is just superb) mixed with nsfw gojo satoru. a modern business tycoon au where he just lost his wife and is overprotective of his 1 year old toddler. you're his new staff in the office and is treated badly bcs you know, new staff. one day, you stumbled upon your boss and his baby in a shop, who wont stop crying and he took an interest in you when you managed to calm his kid down. he hired you as his babysitter + made you move into his estate. from there, your life changed! also, thank you for accompanying my days with your stories, it's marvelous! 💕

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: okay i thought you might like this idea for the event (or maybe not lol) - naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man's gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ | good girl

NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: Stage magician Naoya and his cute little assistant, where every other trick works to undress or strategically rip her outfit so he can show off his little bunny to the crowd before fucking her brainless backstage

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: listen ,,,,, ur naoya hate fic goes crazy stupid may i add something. naoya being overprotective like reader is so pretty and many of the clan men look at them a lottttt and naoya out of nowhere will kiss you in front of them or will grab them in front the maids and workers. then reader becomes mad and they get into an argument and then hate fuck :D lmaoo (THIS REQUEST PLEASEEEE SEND ME TO HEAVEN) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: Omg Suki! Congrats on the 2.4k! So uhmm I decided to take a break from the Kita/Naoya twin au angst 👉👈 idk if you are still accepting requests but HAS ANYONE EVER MENTIONED OR HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED SUGAR DADDY NAOYA????? 🥺 -🌸

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: Megumi being insecure about his eyes because they are a very light green colour( like in manga) so he wears blue contacts( I saw that on TikTok and... big brain energy)

⭐ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: SUKI, HI! First of all, congrats on 2.4K you absolutely deserve every single milestone coming your way 💞💞If it’s not too much to ask may I request a one-shot with megumi where he’s jealous that his fem!crush is spending more time with Itadori and sees how she enjoys his company a lot but it’s purely platonic? Reader likes megumi too and they both need that push in the right direction?Thanks so much if you decide to write this 🥺💖 I seriously love your writing and your big brain sm

CHOSO: Could you write something with Choso and the reader that has a toxic mother (if that actually exists. She controls everything the reader does, and plays with her mind/ feelings making her feel like she's the bad one)?But after a fight with the mom, the reader has enough and just leaves deciding they will finally do what they want, ending up at a tattoo shop, where Choso is the tattoo artist.Ngl, i'd like this to be nsfw because i am thirsting for this man ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)Don't really have kink preferences but if you could include size and breeding kink then i'd be hella thankful ☺

GETOU SUGURU: Yo how about a Victorian AU with Gentleman Thief!Getou and Debutante!Reader nsfw 👀👀 maybe she hears something in the dark and goes to investigate and gets pressed to the wall with a knife at her throat 👀🥵

FUSHIGURO TOJI: can we get a part two of the "lessons learned" toji fic 👉🏽👈🏽 maybe him fucking and overstimulating her so hard she cries and begs for mercy but no mercy will be given. maybe he uses the same handcuffs she used for him on her 🥰 maybe some manhandling cause im a hoe for letting a man throw me around

⭐ KAGEYAMA TOBIO (fckin finally): kageyama tobio x reader fic for mutual virginity loss? maybe they just haven’t had time with him being a fancy schmancy volleyball player, maybe there’s just nerves, i don’t know! i’ll leave it up to u babe <3

⭐ SUNA RINTARO: hi!! congrats on the 2.4k HEHE just wanted to request a suna and tattoo/flower shop au? idk just the thought of tattooed suna is like. mm yes

⭐ SUNA RINTARO/AKAASHI KEIJI: hi suki!! i’m so excited for your event! so i rarely ever see someone else who loves both akaashi and suna so i was wondering if you could write something for them! maybe apocalypse au?? or roommate au?? i was thinking y/n could have a relationship/be fuck buddies with one of them and some smutty exhibitionism happens with the other watching, and then some pining that ends in a threesome if you write those! if not, then just a smutty n filthy little love triangle that you can choose an ending for lol (a happy one would be nice bc my heart can only handle so much angst, but really it’s up to you and what inspires you!!) tysm for doing this event and always working so hard <3

⭐ OIKAWA TOORU: hi i love your writing!! can i please request work au (boss oikawa x secretary fem reader?) with degradation and him fucking your in the window 😭💗💗

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #ryoumen sukuna #uhh im lazy #to tag #THANK YOU FOR THE MILESTONE <3 #sukirichi #suki: 2.4k milestone event

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years ago

Audio

DIN’S CHARACTER ARC: A CONVERSATION

This is just a very casual thinking session I had about some elements of Din’s character arc thus far in the show—covering two important critiques of his writing and what I think about them! Feel free to share your opinion if you listened.

TRANSCRIPT:

Hello, everyone! Welcome to some random thoughts with... me. [chuckling] I’m sitting in a squeaky chair so I’m sorry if it makes sounds. This is very unprofessional, this is literally just me thinking—I don’t have any of this written down and I hope it’s not terribly long or anything.

I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot about Din’s character and his arc throughout seasons one and two. I’ve seen a lot of people say—which is totally fine, we all have our own opinions (I swear!), that’s totally fine. I’m also very open to people critiquing my opinions ‘cause, you know, that’s just... debate is great, I love debate! It’s so good to hear what other people say because I’m the kind of person that can be swayed, you know, pretty easily, so I’m definitely open to hearing any kind of things that you might disagree with me [on.] But... personally, I’ve been thinking a lot about the writing decisions at the end of season two that a lot of people disagree with.

So, one of those things being when Din takes off his helmet, of course. So, a lot of people were, you know, pretty upset by that because he’s been following this Creed for so long and it’s really important to him and it helped him, you know, in the face of—after losing everything, this is what he had to hold on to. And I totally get that, too, like... it was a shock, you know, for Chapter 15—the stakes were raised, so, you know, it was different than like in Chapter 16 where he willingly takes it off in front of other people and doesn’t go in private.

But in my opinion, first of all, the problem with that is that in Chapter 16, it would’ve been really awkward for him to go in private because... you know, he—Luke’s in the way, and all these people are behind him on the bridge, so he would’ve literally had to say, “Hold on, can we just... either all of you leave, or we’re just gonna go to another part of the ship?” It just... there wasn’t a good way to get privacy and I think that’s a big reason why he didn’t get privacy.

In general, for those decisions, I think it actually is a very important part of his character that it did happen, because... the biggest—one of the biggest parts of his character as described by, you know, like Jon and other writers and contributors to the show ever since it started is that... the beskar is not just a physical armor for Din, it’s also been an emotional armor and a psychological armor, you know? So, he’s not—like, he’s hiding in his beskar not just physically, but in every way, he’s hiding in it to get away from his trauma, to get away from—you know, a lot of different things. So, for him to be able to not cling to his armor anymore and to hide within it just because of Grogu is huge growth, and I think that was a really good way of showing it, is... you know, he’s not defining himself by this status of a “Mandalorian” anymore. Like, yes, it’s still important to him that he’s a Mandalorian and that’s not something that he wants to take away from himself or that he will take away from himself, but it’s not something he has to reduce himself to. He’s not just “the Mandalorian,” he’s “Grogu’s father,” and he’s okay with that. He’s willing to not hide anymore, especially for Grogu’s sake—which is just major.

I think that’s why I don’t really have a problem with the helmet removals myself, because it’s just a very effective way of showing Mando’s growth in that way and how Grogu has helped him to realize he doesn’t need to stick to this Creed which, quite frankly, right now his whole Tribe that he was with—that he learned that custom from—they all are gone! They had to break the Creed, you know? Like, he saw their helmets. So, I think that Grogu kinda helped him to let go. And that’s what leads me into my next point about how, you know, a lot of people were upset that Grogu left.

I totally understand that because, you know, that’s heartbreaking, and it seemed like with Ahsoka rejecting Grogu for training and saying, “Well, he can choose his path,” we’re all like, “Okay, well, Grogu obviously doesn’t want to go, he’s gonna choose Din.” But it wasn’t really a matter of Grogu choosing Jedi stuff over Din, it was more like Grogu knew what he had to do to protect Din—because if he doesn’t train, if he doesn’t contain his Force powers, he won’t be able to—like, Din can’t keep him safe forever. So, now, he’s going to train because he knows that if he does, he’ll be able to keep Din safe. So, he doesn’t necessarily want to leave Din, he doesn’t want to go train, but he knows that he has to. And Din knows that he has to. That’s why Din was upset in Chapter 14 when he was talking to Grogu and he’s like, “You have to go with them, I can’t train you,” like, he knows—they both know. So, that’s why he had to go.

For Din, you know, it wasn’t just like he was like, “Oh, this has been my quest, I have to do this,” it’s like... a parent—a parental growth moment of letting go of your kid. When you think about parents who are sending their kids off to college, you know, think about it like... Mando’s quest—sorry, I’ve been switching between Mando and Din, but—the quest is very much like a parent helping their kid choose a college, right? So, they go through this whole process, they’re paying this money for applications, they’re doing college tours, they’re doing all this stuff. But then, their kid is ultimately gonna have to go. They’re gonna have to let go of their kid, like, they’ve done all this stuff for them, they’ve raised them, and they knew that it was gonna reach this point, but that doesn’t make it any easier at the end! You know? I know that my parents cried when I went to college. It’s not easy, no matter how much you prepare for it.

So, for Din, it was like yes he knew, he was fighting all these battles and he was—he risked his life to protect Grogu, but he ultimately knew he was gonna have to give him away. And when that moment came, he didn’t hold back. He didn’t hold Grogu back from what he knows he’s supposed to do. Instead, he was able to let go—which he’s not been able to do! ‘Cause we know he still holds on to his trauma from his childhood and we know that he still holds on to those grudges he had with the gang, even though he treated those better because Grogu has taught him to, you know, be a better person. [chuckles] But his whole problem is that he hasn’t been able to let go and that’s why he hides within himself. But now, he can let go—let go of the Creed, let go of Grogu (but not, you know, he doesn’t actually have to fully and forever let go of Grogu).

Anyway, those are just some random thoughts I had. I could’ve typed them out, I might type them out at some point to make this better. I might do a transcript of this too so then people who can’t listen to audio can hear it, too. And... yeah! But those are just some scrambled thoughts on Mando’s character arc in season two specifically. Feel free to let me know if you disagree with any of these opinions and why. I’m totally open for different opinions—what I say is not, like, the hard golden truth—it’s just my personal thoughts on it. So... thank you for listening!

#din djarin #the mandalorian #meta #star wars #the mandalorian season two #molly talks

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empressxmachina · 3 years ago

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Is THIS what will push me to make an AO3 account? (not clickbait) (surprising)

[See this journal in a better layout on my blog site or on DeviantArt.]

I’ve fallen so down abysmal for the Help, I Shrunk My… series – “…Teacher“, then “…Parents”, and finally (?) “…Friends” – especially the last movie and its scenes between peers, that I have such an uncharacteristic urge to write a fanfic.

Yep, fanfic. I did say uncharacteristic. But with the cuteness and quality, especially at certain scenes in “…Friends” like below, I don’t think you can blame me.

“Holy shit, I’m going to pass out/die/shit myself/etc.” -me, at nearly everything in this series

(Post?) Pubescent Pairings

A. The Classic Couple.

I’m already, because I’m a serial romantic that loves a good self-insert, thinking to name the whole story “Help, I Shrunk My Lover/Girlfriend” or something cheesy like that (maybe even in German?) for Felix and Ella to be stuck together and have to deal with (post?-) pubescent awkwardness. I mean, I feel so honey-dicked that we got cute shit like this and its amazing scene…

God, look at that FOV, the (lack of) focus, the size difference, the subtitle, that face… Fuck.

…but it had to be ruined because – SPOILER – the dumb, lusting teen boy couldn’t see what was literally right in front of him for years until the end of the third movie! Plus, being steps away from a married couple of hotheads, who knows what kind of fights or arguments they’d get into? Are you telling me you wouldn’t want a scene like this again?

That stick is actually way too big to really be a toothpick (or is it?), but I’m not mad. We stan a brave queen.

B. The Will-They/Won’t-They Duo

I’m thinking of making Mario and Melanie into each other, too, as irony based on how much they hated each other for most of the last movie. She stole his phone (and everything else) and then his heart. (lol, I’m so sorry.) Maybe she’d still have some fancies for Felix but then sees that Mario has redeeming qualities of his own, on top of a rich background (not that it matters, but money is cool). My main focus in mind was just for Ella to be shrunken, with Melanie being the supportive gal pal, but given she’s new and hasn’t yet been small herself, maybe this would be the time.

I think Mario would’ve totally gotten over the prepubescent power drive from the first movie by now and certainly no longer has even the slightest grudge over Melanie causing and/or catalyzing chaos that could be played with if he had to deal with a small her. Surely.

C. The Bros in the Back

Would it be too presumptive to make Chris and Robert maybe gay for each other… or even absolutely the opposite? I respect a strong friendship and/or bromance, and LGBTQ+ representation is always a win, too. But for either, I don’t want to do anything “just because” or because it’s “(not) woke;” it should add to the story and have meaning. After all, a situation like “Dude, I love you, and I’ll love you forever, but not like that” could be just as cute. We stan supportive introspection between men. Bros before hoes, you know?

Though, maybe they’re likely the great masterminds to figure out what/why the plot thickens. They seem like the most intelligent of the squad, even if they were only henchmen at the beginning.

D. The Elders

I guess it would only make sense for Schmitty or Felix’s parents to get shrunk again, as is tradition. Maybe the former would be due to considering retirement from teaching/being principal.

I’d do anything to get Hausmeister Michalsky protecting her with his hat again.

As for the parents, it’d likely be a wrong place, wrong time situation. I don’t know.

Unless Sandra and Peter were snooping again, I doubt Felix would willingly do this to them.

Overarching Themes

Aging for Innuendo

Regarding all this, I do know that I’d like to make the story time-skipped a bit, making the kids at least U.S.-adult-aged for my own sake. I am a fan of double entendre, cheekiness, and raw emotion, so I’d love to spill them all over a story or characterization if fitting. However, I couldn’t bear to see or write any kiddos explicitly going through with any entailed implications – that shit’s illegal, lmao. Plus, why even risk something like that when an age-up takes away all the trouble, thus not make any innuendos or ideas awkward?

In a fun way, small or not, wouldn’t seeing the gang party together with real man’s drinks or whatever be cool? What about someone getting turnt on a thimble’s worth or a gummy bear’s paw?

The cups have been used. That’s adorable. +10 points for realism.

In a trash way, if a greater trust was built between Felix and Ella to wear one would suggest taking a bath with the other, and a small Ella floating in the soap ocean bumps into something on her back, only to realize all of Felix’s (normal) limbs are out of distance, in view, and/or just not able to touch her yet he’s blushing, then what would that imply? (It could be nothing, but it could be something.)

Why, Though?

I just can’t figure out a supposedly new catalyst for the ultimate shrinking plot point, mostly due to the main chaos causers, aka the ancient magic users that tackled the school, being sent to the Shadow Realm in the last movie. I do have some ideas, but I’d always love to hear more.

*Oh, Hulda Stechbarth… Bless this crazy bitch, lol.

Throughout the series, people going to our wanting to go to America was frequently brought up. Maybe, like Ilvermorny is to Hogwarts, maybe there’s a (maybe American) (college?) counterpart to the Leonhard school that is interested in the kids. Could the sudden shrinking be a part of the admissions or entrance exam process, such as figuring out how to reverse it? I can’t imagine someone still wanting to go to a school that risked its prospective students’ lives, but who knows? Still, I’m sure the friends would debate whether going overseas for any school is the best idea, especially with the ridiculous costs. Could differing views cause tension?

What if one between Felix and Ella considered it, but the other didn’t, and a coincidentally timed dream for them to stay together – not unlike Minami-kun no Koibito, if you know it – made one of them small with no way for Felix to turn the affected back to normal (due to the tests)? What if people start believing that Felix is intentionally not transforming people back, despite not being at fault but trying his best the whole time?

I suppose another villain is cool, too, but what would be their spite? Would Felix getting all of Leonhard’s power be enough to spark something?

***

I want to do this, but I rarely finish anything now. I can’t even think of a proper plot! Maybe putting this out into the world will inspire myself or even someone else to give a fanfic a shot or at least expose this series to our fandom more (like when I found Dwarfina and blushed at every scene, despite not knowing a lick of Tagalog)!

The third movie pretty much just released, so I only see it (legally) able for streaming (via renting or buying) via Vudu and Amazon Prime Video (in the U.S.). It maybe more widespread in Germany where it was made. (Though, VPNs do exist…) But the first and second movies can be bought or rented from multiple sources, surely.

In any case, let me know what y’all think, and feel free to share your thoughts!

#g/t #rambles #fanfic ideas #help i shrunk my #i've fallen and i can't get up

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inkweaver22-blr · 4 years ago

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HEY REDWALL FANDOM

It’s 4AM and I can’t sleep so I’m going to rant for a little bit about something my brain won’t shut up about.

There’s this fic I read some years ago that aggravates me to no end. Not because it wasn’t well written, oh no. Quite the opposite in fact. It was a more mature story than the books with the main themes being that what creature you are born as doesn’t affect your “goodness” or “evilness” and that everyone has the rights and freedoms to make choices for themselves.

The main player in this story was a badger lord seer (whom we will refer to Seer from here on) who had seen a prophecy of a great evil/era of upheaval and uncertainty (which he implies will be caused by the corsair sea-rats) and set about gathering a force to combat it. He however didn’t really care what species you were and accepted even groups of vermin bandits into his army so long as they vowed to adhere to his code of conduct. Which was really simple in “do no harm and let no harm come to the innocent” type of stuff.

So while Seer himself seemed grim and unapproachable, his army revered him for he had given them a sense of purpose, brotherhood, and honor. He united many races that were once enemies and trained them all into fierce yet honorable warriors. So while we as an audience may find him unnerving, he’s set up as the protagonist whom we are meant to support.

Now is where things start to go off the rails a bit.

His younger brother, whom we’ll call Rage, apparently doesn’t like the fact that Seer is allowing “vermin” into his army. Specifically because Rage hates rats because of the corsair. Rage, unfortunately was cursed with an extra hard dose of the typical badger lord berserk rage and isn’t as good with tactics as Seer is. But because Seer needs Salamandastron for some reason, he tricks Rage and the Long Patrol out of the mountain and takes it for himself.

Okay so it’s just a spat between two brothers, one of which is obviously a bigot so we root for Seer here right?

Well when Rage returns he notices that Seer has given sacred armor crafted by previous badger lords to his troops of rats who also happen to be right at the front of the army. Not his squirrels, not his foxes, only the rats. Rage, obviously, goes into a rage and decimates the rat soldiers and is eventually killed due to his blindness. The Long Patrol is permanently ousted and retreat to Redwall. When questioned by the Abbot later, Seer absolutely avoids the question of “did you intentionally bait your brother instead of trying to talk to him”.

Here’s where my suspension of disbelief starts to fail.

Earlier in the story it’s made clear that any creature in Seer’s army may leave at any point due to the fact that every beast is free and can exercise that freedom (so long as they don’t harm others). We actually see this happen when his force of otters and shrews leave after he uses MUSTARD GAS on a fort of villains, brutally killing them in what the otters believed was an dishonorable way. (Oh did I mention Seer is super intelligent and understands science and math that allows him to create amazing things like submarines and a tower near Redwall with a giant mirror that lets them get messages to Salamandastron quickly?) Anyway, Seer tries to refuse their resignation which the otters throw back in his face due to the aforementioned policy of freedom of choice.

This is where I get angry.

After winning the mountain, Seer parlays with the corsair king. You know, the leader of the slaver pirates that Seer hinted might be the cause of the great approaching upheaval? So what does Seer offer him? If Corsair will give up all the woodland slaves (mice, otters, shrews, squirrels, moles, ect.) Seer will replace them with all of the rats of Mossflower and beyond. All of his rat troops who served him loyally as well as any free rats in the country, evil or not, were just sold into slavery without their say in the matter. Because it is very much known by everyone that the rats replacing the slaves will not be treated like new crew members but as slaves themselves.

What absolutely infuriates me is that Seer’s army just goes with it. They don’t put up a fight, even if the rats are confused and a little hurt by this choice, they go along with it because Seer hasn’t steered them wrong yet. Which makes absolutely no sense when you think about how Seer has been preaching freedom up to this point. Heck, when Redwall begins offering sanctuary to any rat that can make it into their walls, (because absolutely screw any and all forms of slavery), Seer sends his squirrels to patrol the woods and capture any that try to make it to the Abbey.

Why would Seer’s army, who have been proven to be smart, kind, and honorable by this point, ever agree to this? Many of them most likely have at least one friend in the rats. Even if they accepted their comrades willingly chaining themselves to the oar benches, they would most certainly not agree to kidnapping free beasts who never joined Seer’s army. I just does not make any sense and is literally the only problem I had with this story.

Finally we get to the twist that shakes everything and cements this fic as one of the best pieces of Redwall fiction I’ve read.

We have a scene towards the end with Seer in the Prophecy Room of Salamandastron. He gazes upon the original prophecy of evil and upheaval, and then moves on to the next one which he never mentioned. One that states that the badger lord seer could only be defeated by another seer. A rat seer.

Everything he’s done; creating an army of mixed races, building a huge tower in the fields near Redwall, killing his brother to take the mountain; ALL OF IT, was for the single purpose of eliminating rats from the land. Seer was the antagonist all along.

It almost worked too.

In the Redwall world, it’s well established seers can have visions of almost everything, except other seers.

The rat seer, we learn, foresaw that she would need to go to Redwall to retain her freedom, but not why. So she and her family got to Redwall before Seer sent his squirrels to patrol the woods and he can’t do anything because if he attacked the Abbey he would lose any remaining support he had.

So all of this change he made, this era upheaval and uncertainty he caused, was for nothing.

I can’t remember if the story continued on after this point and had the rest of his men realize they’re following a mad prophet but I was tossing and turning all night at their blind faith in following him into becoming genocidal slavers.

So anyway if anyone can find this story I HIGHLY recommend it but be prepared to get irritated towards the end.

UPDATE!!!

The fic in question is The Crimson Badger by Highwing and the more I remember about it the less appealing it is. Lots of grimdark deaths, out of place sexism, and strange prudishness concerning premarital sex abound in this so I change my stance from “highly recommend” to “read at your own risk”.

#Redwall #The Crimson Badger #Salamandastron #Badger Lord #Redwall Abbey #seer #seers #badger #rat #there were also these two cool characters #a mouse chained to a stoat #they were friends and the mouse wanted to help the stoat with his drinking problem #edit!#yeeesh this is a lot worse than i remember

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years ago

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This Christmas - A Harry Styles Christmas Series (Part 6)

Two life long friends. Secretly in love. Home for the holidays. Will they risk everything by telling the other how they feel? Or will they spend another year loving from afar?

Read these first Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

By the time you were back at your Mum’s house after a day of shopping, you were exhausted. Apparently your mother waited to do all her Christmas shopping in one day and have you hold it all. Your arms were so full of bags and boxes for all your mother’s book club friends, you had zero room to look and purchase any of the presents you had planned on buying on your little outing.

“Is there a reason you bought literally every bottle of wine today?” You groaned, placing yet another bag on the counter.

“We’re doing a wine exchange this year,” she said.

“How many bottles of wine are you exchanging with one person?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Why do you ask so many questions?” She scoffed.

“I’m a writer. It’s what I do,” you smirked. “Also, this book club of yours how much time is spent on discussing the actual book vs the amount of time spent drinking wine.”

“Eh… 60/40,” she said, moving her hand back and forth.

“More like 40/60,” you laughed, just as the doorbell rang.

“Oh! They’re here,” she said. “Y/N get the door.”

“Who is here?” You said, heading towards the door.

As soon as you opened it up, you saw Anne and Harry standing on the front porch.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you smiled. “What are you two doing here?”

“I’m here for the book club,” Anne smirked. “Harry’s here to be the designated driver.”

“Yay me,” Harry waved his hands in the air.

“That’s tonight?” you asked.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Your mother shouted from the kitchen. “Stop being rude and let them in already!”

“Right, sorry,” you winced, moving out the way.

Anne walked right past you, while you and Harry stood there in the foyer.

“So… um, I should probably help my Mum set up,” you said. “But after we could head up to my room and talk…”

“Sounds good,” he smiled. “And I can help, set up too.”

“Good because you don’t have a choice,” you smirked, pulling him into the kitchen.

About an hour later, the book club was well underway and you and Harry were still making sandwiches and putting cheese and crackers onto a plate.

“Why do I feel like we��re only being used as free labor?” Harry joked.

“Because we are,” you laughed. “I think it has something to do with the whole they were in labor with us, so now we must labor for them.”

“I guess it’s the least we could do, right?” He laughed.

You giggled picking up the plates and taking them out. No one was paying any attention to you and Harry, so you decided to sneak up to your old bedroom and finally have the conversation you were dreading to have. When you got up there, Harry walked around a bit, remembering the last time he was there.

“I see you still have the Jonas Brothers poster,” he raised an eyebrow.

“That’s never coming down,” you scoffed. “You should know that. In fact, I would take it with me to my flat in London, but I have a new one I got last year on their tour.”

“I don’t know if I should be jealous or offended by that,” he laughed.

“Why would you be either of those?” you laughed.

“Because I don’t see any One Direction posters here and unless you have a poster of me at your flat…” he said.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t,” you smirked. “You’re just not as cute.”

“Ouch!” He said, putting his hand over his heart. “I am now officially both emotions. You do realize they’re all married, right? Two of which have children, so unless you plan on being a homewrecker…”

“Well, I mean… if the opportunity arises…,” you joked.

“Wow,” he gasped. “I know what I’m getting you for Christmas. A big ass poster of me to cover your entire wall. One for here, one for your flat, and one to take with you when you travel.”

“Okay, that’s a little much,” you giggled.

“No, I don’t think so,” he laughed.

You shook your head with a laugh as you sat down on your bed, “So, what did you do today before you got dragged here?”

“Oh, nothing much, just spent some time with Mum,” he shrugged. “After she caught me sneaking back into the house this morning.”

“Smooth,” you laughed.

“What? I told you she got up early, but you wouldn’t let me get out before the sun was up,” he defended.

“Actually, you were the one to refuse to get out of bed,” you said.

“I was cold,” he shrugged. “And I didn’t feel like making the trek back to the house.”

“It’s like an extra twenty steps away,” you said.

“Anyway,” he said sitting down in your desk chair and spinning around a few days. “We have a conversation to discuss.”

“That we do,” you nodded. “Who should go first?”

“Weeellllll, since I’m the one who kinda just blurted out ‘I Love You’... why don’t you take this one next?” He suggested. “I mean it’s only fair.”

“I guess,” you sighed, dramatically laying down on the bed. “Before we discuss the next step… I need to get something off my chest. I don’t want you to take any of this the wrong way or anything…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he said. “But I’ll try my best not to get upset or whatever.”

You sighed again, kicking your feet up to push yourself back up to sit on your bed.

“When you told me you loved me last night… I’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Honestly, I think I probably would have wanted to hear those words back when we were like fourteen or something. And now that you’ve finally said them, It was like the best moment ever,” you smiled.

“Why do I sense a but coming?” He sighed.

“Because there is,” you sighed. “Even though I’ve been waiting to hear those three words and finally got them, I can’t just jump into a relationship with you because….”

“Because why?” He asked.

“We’re not the same people we were the last time we spoke, Harry,” you sighed. “We’ve gone years without even speaking a word to one another. What if we’re not the same people we fell in love with…”

“So, then you don’t love me?” He asked, confusion and hurt evident on his face.

“No, I’m not saying that,” you answered quickly. “I just… I think we need to go about this slowly because I’d rather take our time, get to know each other again, than to just jump right in and find out we’re not… you know.”

Harry hesitated for a minute before nodding, “I agree. I want to get to know you again. I want us to be closer again… and I want us to be together, but I’ll go as slow as we need to.”

You nodded, “There’s also… another thing we need to discuss.”

“Okay?” He asked.

“The whole long distance thing,” you whispered. “I know you live in London now, but eventually you’re going to go away for work or I’m going to go away for work. How do we know things won’t end like last time?”

“Because I won’t let that happen,” he said, taking your hand. “I fucked up. I know that, but I’d never do that again. I can’t… I won’t lose you again.”

“You really hurt me,” you whispered. “And it wasn’t just because you didn’t call or text, but because you were willingly spending and making time for all these other people… yet I never got that. Why? Why wasn’t I good enough back then? How do I know I’ll be good enough for you now?”

“I told you,” he said. “It was never because of you. It was me… me thinking I had to live a certain way.”

“Don’t you get it,” you said. “By you saying that, it obviously means that I didn’t fit into that way of life, Harry. I get it. I’m not some super famous and rich celebrity… I mean yeah, I’m not hurting for money, but I’m not a fucking millionaire either. I don’t own a house or have a super fancy car. I own a few designer things, but most of my clothes come from thrift shops or random shops in the city. I don’t look like someone who belongs on the cover of a magazine or in a movie or whatever. I’m just… me.”

“And that’s why I fucking love you, Y/N,” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “Do you honestly think I care about what material things you have or don’t have? Do you really think I’m that fucking shallow? I love you because you’re Y/N. My Y/N. I know we’ve changed, but everything I’ve always loved about you is still there because it’s what makes you , you.”

“I just don’t want to be the reason we don’t work out,” you whispered. “Because I’m not-”

“Hey,” he whispered. “If anyone should be worried, it’s me. I fucked our friendship, remember? I’m the one who will be leaving on tour, while you have a life here. You could easily forget about me.”

“I’ve never forgotten about you,” you told him.

“We can make this work,” he said, putting his hands on your cheeks. “We just have to let it.”

It was the next morning and you were typing away at your computer. You were making great progress and if everything went as planned, you would be finished with the manuscript by Christmas. You were finishing up your cup of coffee, when there was a tapping on the door.

“It’s open,” you said.

As soon as you got the words out, the door opened and Harry walked inside.

“Morning,” he smiled walking over and jumping on your bed.

You laughed, “Morning. What brings you by this early in the morning?”

“Nothing, just thought I’d see how you’re doing. Check in on your writing,” he said, looking around.

“Riiight,” you said. “I’d love to believe that, but you’re a terrible liar.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not lying.”

“Sure,” you said. “Whatever you say. I have about another half hour or so of writing before I’m finished with this chapter.”

“Okay, then I’ll just chill out here until you’re done,” he said.

“You’re up to something,” you said.

“Am not,” he said.

“Fine, deny it all you want, but I’ll figure it out,” you said, turning around to face your computer.

You looked back over your notes before getting back into the writing zone. After about five minutes, you felt someone staring at you. You glanced back behind you and sure enough Harry was staring at you.

“Can I help you?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, what? No, I’m good,” he said.

“Then why are you staring at me?” You laughed.

“Because you look really hot when you’re writing,” he smirked.

“You’re here to makeout, aren’t you?” you said.

“Well, since you offered,” he smirked, pulling you over to the bed and on top of him.

“I have a chapter to finish,” you laughed.

“So, you can finish it after a little break,” he said.

“I like the way you think,” you giggled, pressing your lips against his.

The previous night you two had really talked over what you were feeling and what you wanted. Both of you wanted to be together, that much was obvious, but you two knew things wouldn’t be that simple. But despite all your worries and your fears, you were willing to try and you couldn’t think of a better time to do it than back at home where it all started during Christmas time.

And you couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

So sorry about the super late post, but I got busy and lost track of time!

Look out for Part 7 tomorrow!

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fics #Harry Styles Fanfictions #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Christmas Series

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years ago

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When Grey Turns to Color

Sooo when I was asking around for my Scott Lang requesting Nonnie, the wonderful @andreasworldisboring101 asked me if I could make an attempt at a Scott Lang x Reader soulmate AU. I’m SO SORRY that it took me so long, but I hope you still like it.

Summary: People were impatient for soulmates. It often left them living in worlds of grey and sadly...Scott and Y/N were no different. But what happens when their paths cross?

Pairing: Scott Lang x Hispanic!Reader

Word Count: 2722 words

Warnings: Uh...Smut? (18+) (fingering, teasing, that sort of thing) Haha that’s gonna be the thing here, not gonna lie. But I am putting a cutoff so you don’t have to read it if you don’t want, but you can if you do. *shrugs* (Please be nice peeps)

Masterlist - OC Masterlist - Marvel Kiddos

The stories of soulmates were just that now. Stories. Blind hope that maybe someday those living in a world of black and white might finally see color. All it took was one thing.

A kiss.

Something so sweet and gentle.

However, humans are far from that. They are not sweet. Nor are they gentle. They’re impatient. Eager for an ending yet they refuse to put in the work for it. It leads to unhappy marriages. Bitter divorces. A coldness in the world that is as bitter as the grey everyone is forced to constantly see.

They often don’t realize that if they simply took the time...clung to the patience…then they would see something truly beautiful.

“Luis, I never expected you to be so good with words,” Y/N teased, looking at her cousin and ruffling his hair. “You’ve been such a softie since you and Dave realized you were soulmates.”

“Shut up,” he whined, rising to his feet. “I know you’re going to get there someday and then I’ll get to be the one teasing you.” Speaking of, he looked towards Y/N. “Don’t you have a date to get ready for?”

Y/N’s nose wrinkled. It wasn’t that she minded the guy. In fact, her friend had only good things to say about him. He was divorced a while ago – their marriage falling apart when his wife found her soulmate. They shared a child together and he was a coworker of hers. An engineer from MIT.

He was sweet…funny…a good dad…

Her friend had nothing bad to say about him. It made her nervous.

“Hey.” Y/N blinked, looking at Luis as he gave her one of those smiles that was so utterly Luis. “If he’s not the one then it’s his loss.”

Still…There were so many good things said about this Scott Lang guy. Surely, he had high standards. And if they were as high as those she’d dated before…How could she…a rather plain girl…How could she ever match up?

Oh, how wrong she had been.

Another laugh bubbled up, filling the air as her pusher collided with the puck. It careened across the table, a wild blur before it sank into the goal. A robotic beep filled the air and the pair looked up. Final score: 4 to 1. She won.

“I don’t know how,” he teased, bright eyes watching her suspiciously. “But I swear you cheated.”

Innocently, Y/N pressed a hand to her chest. “I would never.”

He tilted his head, unable to hide the smile that threatened to split his face in two. This wasn’t supposed to be so easy. Was it? The two of you had expected awkwardness. He had only picked the arcade because he had hoped to ease some of the weirdness. Neither of you had expected it to work so well.

“C’mon.” Scott breathed a laugh, unable to contain the hammering in his chest. “I’m going to beat you at something. I’m sure of it.”

“If you’re so sure, are you willing to make a bet,” Y/N asked as he led her to ski ball.

His brow furrowed, curiosity glinting in his eyes as the two inserted their tokens. “What do you have in mind?” He took the first shot and then she. Another laugh. Traded glances. Everything was so simple. Back and forth. It seemed they were trading the higher points with every passing turn. And the anticipation was building. He wanted to know what it was that she had in mind.

Catching her wrist, Scott watched as the lights flickered against her face. It was a beautiful glow, a far contrast to the sort of game they were playing. “If one of us loses?”

“Then,” Y/N bit her lip, amused when she caught Scott’s gaze shifting there before catching her eyes once more. “The winner gets a kiss.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Wouldn’t that mean both of us win?”

“Well, it’s a date.” Y/N giggled. “It’d be nice if we both enjoyed the wager.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “You’re on.”

Scott released her wrist. How lucky was he to have met her? Before, with Maggie, it was never so easy. Never so simple and fun. And this was just their first date. He wanted to kiss her. He hoped…God, he hoped that she was his soulmate.

They turned back to the game, each raising a ball. And then –

“You cheated!”

Another laugh. His firm declaration was so clearly a joke that Y/N couldn’t be upset. There was no reason for it. The two stumbled out of the arcade, earning odd looks from passerbys and not possibly caring whether they stared.

“You’re just a sore loser,” Y/N teased, intertwining their hands, and giving a gentle squeeze.

Scott pulled her close, his back hitting the wall as his free hand moved to her back. He traced small circles into her back, noticing the small shiver that ran up her spine. There was a heavy weight in the air, excitement lingering between the pair of them. “Is that right?” His voice was hushed, barely above a whisper. He brought their intertwined hands up, gently kissing her knuckles before pulling his fingers free.

“Definitely.” She watched him as his fingers ran along her cheek and then her lip. Y/N shivered once again even though she was far from cold. “But that means you owe me something.”

Scott chuckled. His forehead pressed against hers as their noses brushed against one another. “I remember.”

Finally, his lips slanted over hers. Though their actions before had been boisterous, goofy even, this was far from it. A calm settled between them as he pulled her closer, but it didn’t last long. No, instead it was replaced by something far different.

Everything felt as if it were on fire.

Scott’s hand moved from her back, cradling her neck as her hands tangled in his hair. Y/N tugged, teeth nipping his lips and taking a desperate charge before Scott spun them around. He pressed her firmly against the wall, a stuttered moan lost against her lips.

The kiss only ended when their lungs burned, silently screaming for oxygen. They breathed heavily, eyes closed and foreheads pressed against each other. Scott shifted, pressing a small kiss against her nose and then forehead. They were far too terrified to open their eyes. If they did, they’d know the truth.

And God, how truly terrifying that was.

Y/N took a slow, shaky breath. She was the first to take the risk. She was the first to open her eyes.

“Oh my God.”

Those three words were enough to make Scott open his eyes. And the sight was utterly beautiful. Before, where they could only see in black, white, and grey, they now saw every color absolutely imaginable. It made Scott wonder – why had he willingly married Maggie when this was a world he could have lived in?

“You are…” He breathed, at a loss for words.

Her hands, albeit a little shaky from nerves, ran across his stubbled cheeks. “Your eyes are...” She bit her lip, fingers lightly tracing his cheekbones. Y/N had no idea what the name was. “They’re my favorite color.”

-- (You can literally stop reading here and be just fine. But after this line is smut) --

Y/N’s back collided with the door. She laughed against Scott’s mouth, but it fell quiet as his lips trailed. Scorching marks against her neck left her whining, wanting more. “Do you plan on opening the door,” she teased. Fingers tugged at his shirt, prying it loose as he attempted to fit the key in the door.

“Do you ever stop teasing?” The question was a soft murmur against her skin.

Her fingers teased his abdomen, nails raking against the skin as he inhaled sharply. A breathless “no” slipped past her lips.

Scott smiled and kissed her once more. “Good.” Finally, he found the right key. The familiar twist of metal against metal had him opening the door.

And the pair stumbled inside.

Y/N laughed as he kicked the door shut. Her hands moved to lift her shirt, wanting it off right then and there. However, Scott had different ideas. His hands caught her wrists, halting her movements. “Wait,” he whispered. He kissed her fingers and then her wrists. “We have a long time to be rushed.”

Y/N’s face flushed from her embarrassment and his words. She released her shirt, letting him pull it off. Even as he tossed the garment aside, his eyes never left her. He took in every bit of her. Every dip and curve that was now his to love and cherish.

Squeezing her hips, he pulled her to him as her hands slipped under his shirt. It was quick to join hers on the floor. Their quickened movements and absolute desperation had changed to something else. Something far gentler. Far sweeter.

Her lips brushed his skin, pressing light kisses against his chest before they were followed by playful nips. Scott groaned, catching her jaw between his fingers. He kissed her, that roughness lingering just below the surface. “You’re teasing me,” he warned.

“Maybe.” Y/N smiled as his fingers undid her jeans and pushed them down. She stepped out before he pulled her close once again. It seemed Scott had no interest in creating space. If anything, it was the last thing he wanted. His hands wandered, roaming and memorizing before he pinched her butt. Her startled gasp earned a roguish grin. Lifting her up, Scott wrapped her legs around his waist and led her to the bedroom.

Her fingers ran through those soft locks, her soft moans filling the air as he nipped and sucked at her skin. Wherever they were in his apartment, she had no idea. Nor did she care. But it was soon revealed as he laid her on the bed. His fingers worked deftly to remove her bra and panties, tossing them somewhere across the room.

Her chest heaved with bated breath, a dark hue settling in her cheeks and along her collarbone. He held himself above her, staring at her as if he could see straight through to her soul. Maybe that was where the term “soulmates” came from. “You are absolutely stunning.”

“Scott…” The word was a soft whine, a plea for him to do something. To touch her. He was taking too damn long.

“Sh…” He kissed her shoulder, then along her neck. His fingers were featherlight in their touch, trailing over her breasts. She arched into his touch, moaning as her nipples pebbled under his deliberate teasing. “I got you.” He kissed at the spot just below her ear, sucking what would no doubt be a dark spot.

“Please,” she whispered, her thighs pressing against each other, desperate for any sort of friction. “Touch me.”

“I thought I was.”

A frustrated groan and glare earned a laugh from Scott. “Now who’s the one teasing,” Y/N asked, huffing in irritation. She was about ready to flip them, take charge and show him just how good she could make him feel.

But Scott moved faster. Deft fingers slipped between her thighs. She moaned, back arching off the bed as his thumb circled her clit. “Fuck,” he breathed against her collarbone. “So wet already.”

Y/N whined as he collected her arousal, smearing it and teasing her nub even more. “Scott,” she moaned once more.

He smiled against her breast, kissing, licking, and nipping the skin there. Scott slipped one finger in her drenched hole, curling as his lips and teeth tormented her breasts. He wanted to please her. God, he wanted to worship her body and, in truth, he could do so till the end of his days.

Scott slipped a second and then third finger, stretching her. The small noises she made were overwhelming, absolutely beautiful to his ears. “That’s it,” he whispered, kissing along her abdomen. He felt her squeezing his fingers and whispered, “Cum for me, Y/N. Let me see you.”

Another low whine, a guttural moan leaving her as she came undone by his sweet torment. Scott breathed softly, capturing her lips in another kiss as Y/N came down from her high. “So beautiful,” he told her, licking his fingers and moaning at the taste of her.

Y/N blushed, panting softly as her fingers moved to his jeans. “You,” she told him, pouting. “Are still wearing too much clothing.”

Scott laughed, letting her flip them over. Y/N straddled his lap, kissing his stomach as she slipped her hand in his boxers. She gently squeezed his aching length, slow and languid strokes teasing him like he had her. Scott groaned, now understanding what it meant to be at the absolute mercy of a woman. “Y/N,” he growled, tongue wetting his lips. “I won’t last.”

Y/N bit her lip, appreciating the knowledge that she had such an effect on him. Perhaps another time she would tease him as mercilessly as he had done her. He helped her get him out of his jeans and boxers. That was all that was needed for his hard cock to spring free. “C’mere.” He tangled a hand in her hair, pulling her towards him and kissing her roughly.

His tongue delved in her mouth as she settled on his lap. Slowly, she rocked her hips, the tip of his cock brushing against her swollen clit. “Feel so good,” he groaned against her lips. Y/N’ nipped playfully, her fingers wrapping around his cock and guiding it to her entrance.

She moved her hips, filling herself with him. Her walls stretched around him, instinctively clenching. Scott groaned. His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh there. It felt too good. Too perfect.

She buried her face in his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh. He groaned, hand splaying across her low back before he gently flipped them over. As much as Scott loved the idea of her riding him, this was about his worshipping her. Giving her the pleasure and showing her the adoration that she deserved.

He rolled his hips slowly, using all of his restraint to keep from fucking her into the mattress. Scott didn’t want her to think this was anything less than what it was. Two people coming together. Coming home to one another.

“Scott,” she begged, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck – Harder. Faster.” Another whine. Impatience on her part to have him. “Please.”

It seemed that plea was all that he needed. His hips snapped. He moved faster. Harder. She inhaled sharply, her nails dragging down his back as he did exactly as she wanted. Scott fucked her hard. He memorized how every slight movement earned a different reaction. How a slow drag of his hips earned a whine versus his brutal thrusts forcing moans to tumble past her kiss-swollen lips.

She was gorgeous.

“Fuck,” she cried, her walls squeezing him. She was close. So close. Tangling her hand in his hair, she kissed him. It was all tongues, teeth – desperation to make up for time where their souls had been apart. “’M close,” she whispered, utterly breathless.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Let go,” he muttered against her lips. “I got you. Cum for me.”

He felt her walls clench around him. His words all that were needed to send her over the edge. And Scott was right behind her. He buried his cock deep within her, her quivering pussy milking him for all he was worth.

Panting softly, he kept his cock buried inside her. His forehead rest against her collarbone, a thin layer of sweat covering both their bodies. “That…” He breathed, forcing oxygen to enter his lungs. “Was…”

Y/N smiled lazily, fingers playing with his hair and nails lightly scratching his scalp. “Hot as hell?”

Scott’s shoulders shook with laughter as he groaned. Pushing himself up, he settled on her face. So relaxed. So utterly happy. “I was trying to think of sweeter words.”

“Hmm…” She kissed him gently, as sweetly as the words he had been searching for. “Maybe another time.”

Scott raised a brow, shifting his way down her body. Head settled between her quivering thighs, he asked, “Who said I was done with you yet?”

It is said that when two souls collide, they see the world in a new light. Gone are the bleak greys of the world. They are instead replaced by something beautiful. Color.

And all it takes is something so sweet. So gentle.

A kiss.

And there y’all have it. Hope y’all enjoyed???

#scott lang #scott lang x reader #scott lang one shot #scott lang smut #marvel au #soulmate au #mcu #marvel #scott lang x hispanic!reader #scott lang x you #scott lang x y/n

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myblueeyedbuggers · 4 years ago

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My Boys

Chapter 10

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1843

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Annnddd I’m back! so I know it’s been a while since the last update and I just wanna thank you all for having patience with me while I finished up with college, just a warning this chapter may feel a little awkward to read due to me just getting back into my writing mind so apologises in advance for this one. Anyways I’ll quit blabbering, Enjoy everyone! :)

This was my day of reckoning, my punishment for all the bad deeds I’d done over the past couple of years…I was finally being sent to school. Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic, but can you blame me? I mean who wants to be trapped in a building against their will for 7 hours straight learning about dead guys?! No sane person would willingly agree to that crap!

I’ve tried just about everything to avoid my approaching doom, hell I even went as far as hiding in the basement surrounded by cobwebs to try and get out of this, but as per usual neither Steve or Bucky took mercy on me, hence why in currently trapped between the two. “You are aware I’m perfectly capable of walkin’ by myself aren’t ya? The looping of the arms is not needed boys” I swear down these two are being more annoying than usual, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible cause these two are basically the living embodiment of annoyance. Steve turned and raised his eyebrows at me, shaking his head as he let out a small laugh, “Yeah there’s absolutely no way I’m fallin’ for that again, last time that happened it look me and Buck an hour to get you outta that tree”. Ah crap there goes that plan.

I’m pretty sure the noise I made wasn’t even human, it was a mix between a seal and a possessed monkey “I’m not gonna get outta this am I?” “Nope” and que another frustrated groan. “Is this payback for the time I placed that bucket of flour above your bedroom door and watched the both of you turn into ghosts? If it is then I want you to know I regret nothin’” both of them stopped and glared at me, for some reason they didn’t find that as funny as I did, and I have no idea why. Okay whatever you do y/n don’t laugh, even if Steve’s face looks like a slapped arse don’t laugh! A snicker slipped past my lips and a few seconds later I was full on laughin’. Goddamn it.

Both of em just let out a bunch of sighs and started draggin’ my butt along the street, wait there’s somethin’ I haven’t tried yet…in hindsight this is completely stupid but screw it. “OH MY GOD LOOK A SPACESHIP!” I’m pretty sure poor Bucky jumped outta his skin, Steve ended up trippin’ up and falling down, I’ll admit that I felt bad about but hey may plan worked! So why am I still standin’ there?… maybe we try this thing called running y/n! I quickly pulled my arm away from Bucky and used my new-found freedom to run in the opposite direction of them, I could hear the shouts of protest from the both of them, so I decided to kindly ignore them and absolutely leg it. “GODAMMN IT Y/N! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME THIS MORNIN’!” when were the boys gonna catch on that I didn’t wanna go? Do I need to prepare a firework show and blast it in their faces or somethin’…probably.

I know I probably shouldn’t be smiling, but the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as my feet hit the ground made me feel free, after so many years I could finally begin acting my age and enjoy my childhood. I finally felt content with my life, which is probably the opposite of what I should be feeling at this moment in time, considering I was currently making my grand escape. And to completely honest I’ve got no bloody clue as to where I am. I glanced behind me to see where the hell those idiots were, to my surprise Steve was directly behind me, Buck was somewhere in the back holdin’ his knee and I’m guessing the daft sod decked it. Why am I not surprised? Okay maybe I should of kept my mouth shut cause literally a second later my foot tripped over a rock and, you guessed correctly, I landed on my ass for the thousandth time!

“Sh*t! Cr*p! B*lls! That f**king hurt!” and that ladies and gentlemen is my fine command of the queens English, a groan of pain made me loose my train of thought as I turned my head to Steve, to put it simply he was laid flat on his back with his eye closed. Well there’s the rush of guilt I’ve been waiting for, “Sh*t Steve I’m sorry, you okay down there tough guy?” I quickly offered him my hand to help him up, I mean it’s the least I could do. Steve’s hand grabbed mine, a not so quiet grunt of pain made me feel even worse, quick question why am I such an assh*le at times? “Yeah, I’m fine y/n, don’t worry about it you know for a fact I’ve had worse” a quiet sigh left my lips as I brought him in for a hug, which was a tiny bit awkward due to the height difference. Once we pulled away from each other, I couldn’t supress the need to check him for anymore injuries, much to Steve’s embarrassment and Bucky’s amusement, “Jesus I’m gonna have to start wrapping ya up in blankets and pillows, Steve how the hell did you manage to get a bruise on your ear?!”

The sudden gasp behind me pretty much answered the question for me, it’s safe to say barney boy is in trouble…for the first in my life Bucky looks pretty f**king terrified of me, perfect. Slowly I started inching towards him, the glare I was sending him would probably make a demon cry for his mum…so yeah imma go kill the boy. I didn’t even have to say anything, he just started runnin’, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE STOLE MY FR**KING PUDDIN’ AND THE PUNK KNOWS I LOVE MY PUDDIN!’” YEP DEFINITELY KILLIN’ HIM “HE IS A SMALL AND GENTLE BOY HOW IN THE NAME OF HELL CAN YOU EVEN THINK OF LAYIN’ A HAND ON ‘IM?!” god this sounds like a bleeding soap opera.

At this point I wouldn’t be surprised of someone called the cops on us, all everyone woulda seen was a big lad runnin’ for his life as a small lass tried to murder him while a smaller lad ran after the pair yellin’ for em to quit it. Now that I think about, that’s actually hilarious. Wait, where was I? ah yes the murdering of one James Barnes…okay that is not a normal sentence I am aware. “HE.STOLE.MY.PUDDIN’! THAT A CRIME WORTHY OF DEATH!” oh for f**ksake “HOW THE HELL DO YA KNOW IT WAS HIM?! DID YOU NOT THINK IT COULDA BE BECCA?!” I think he made a sudden realisation, cause the dumbass stopped running and BOOM I was on the freakin’ floor. Again. We both groaned, mine was mostly in annoyance more than anything, but seriously the bloody floor is quickly becoming me best mate! “…. It just dawned on me that that could be a possibility…” if my neck twisted any quicker I’m 100% sure that I’d end up doin’ that weird owl thing “Oh now you realise?! Ya gonna say sorry to Steve or not?” a few seconds of silence gave me my answer. “Don’t give me that look y/n! I ain’t doing s**t till I’ve got some evidence so he’s still under my list of suspects!” oh my Jesus Christ this is gonna be the day I get arrested for murder isn’t it?

“Barnaby…you have exactly five seconds to run for your life so I highly recommend you get your affairs in order and kiss ya ass goodbye” oh hey look at that I didn’t yell at him! Well done me I’m so proud! “could you two quit trying to kill each other for 5 minutes?! We’re already late enough as is it and I ain’t explainin’ to the teacher why Buck’s outta it on the floor!” my f**kin god Steve just yelled! At me! why do I never have a camera when this s**t happens? “Jeez, alright I’ll murder him later, calm your damn t*ts Rogers” and cue the sound of barely contained frustration in 3,2,1….

“I’m beginning to get the feelin’ that you don’t like me y/n” oh really? I wonder what gave that away “wow you catch on quickly don’t ya Barnaby?” by the looks of things I’m really doing wonders for his ego, buck’s head looks like it’s gotten smaller so the risk of him turning into a hot air balloon’s gone down. The feeling of a pair of eyes glaring at the back of my head once again reminded me that the blonde boy was quickly getting tired of our crap, my worst fears were confirmed once I met Steve’s surprisingly intimidating glare…how he manages to be both adorable and beyond f**king terrifying is a mystery to me. “Okay I’m comin’ just stop staring at me like I just murdered your kitten!” and the little s**t has the nerve to smirk and look pleased with himself, ugh he’s been hanging ‘round me and Bucky too long that’s for sure.

“Ya know Buck and you are gonna be the death of me” right do I be offended or pleased with that statement? “actually, if anything it’s gonna be the pair of you that send me to an early grave cause god knows the both of ya don’t know how to stay outta trouble” two muffled sounds of protest came from my left and from behind me, “what’s that supposed to mean?!” once again the point has been missed “do you really wanna know the answer to that? I’ve got my report and presentation ready on how you two are a pair of numpties”.

Maybe that was a tad harsh…okay wait never mind it seems I’ve learned how to fly again with the assistance of one James Buchannan Barnes. “this is coming from the girl who can’t walk five feet without fallin’ over somethin’?” as much as I hate to admit it the walking embodiment of frustration and annoyance has a point “what you call fallin’ I call floor hugs, now how about you pUT ME DOWN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” wait when did Steve walk off? See this is what happens when an overgrown ape demands attention. I don’t even have to look at Buck to know he’s givin’ me that look that says, “what the hell?” and “I’m not surprised by this” at the same time, “Nah I don’t think that’s gonna happen doll” the temptation to kick ‘im where the sun doesn’t shine is too much to bare for me at this point. “And you wonder why I love Steve more that you” Buck’s face kinda looked like someone just shoved a whole lemon in his mouth, I’m almost certain that he woulda dropped me on my ass if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve came over and dragged us both through the gates of hell.

This is gonna be so much fun!……said no-one ever.

Okay…maybe it didn’t suck as much a thought it did, hopefully my skills as a writer will come back for the next couple of chapters XD Thanks for reading ! :)

Rose xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] Also on AO3.

Chapter 3: Martin

Martin waits until everyone leaves the Archives that night. Then he waits a bit longer, just to be certain they’re gone. Then he wastes a little more time telling himself not to be stupid.

Then he sighs, pockets torch and corkscrew, and ventures into the Archives to find himself.

It’s surprisingly easy. His double, or alter ego, or future self, or…whatever the right term is for him, is waiting for him in one of the reading nooks, seated in a comfortable armchair, hands folded around a mug of tea. He turns his head as Martin approaches and smiles, a tired sort of smile. “Still here, then. How’d he take it?”

Martin eyes the other (it’s easier to think of him that way for now). He seems relaxed, mostly, but there’s a kind of tension to him, like he’s waiting for another shoe to drop. And his hands—Martin probably wouldn’t notice if his own hadn’t done the same earlier—are trembling, ever so faintly. He’s either tired or stressed or scared, or some combination of the three. Martin suddenly feels bad for adding to that, in whatever way he did.

“How’d he take it when you told him?” he parries, taking a cautious seat in the armchair across from the other. He notices another mug of tea sitting on the small table between them. “Is that for me?”

“Thought we could both use some. It’s that peppermint-chamomile blend nobody admits they drink, so it shouldn’t keep you up all night.”

Martin picks up the cup, feeling its warmth soak into his palms. Just the smell is calming, sort of. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

“He…smiled,” the other says slowly. “I was a bit worried about him, to be honest. Thought he’d gone off his rocker. But…well, he was a bit paranoid at the time. Things were—it was bad. Not as bad as it got later, but still…bad. He’d gotten convinced one of us might have been trying to kill him, or might have killed Gertrude Robinson—long story why he believed that, I really can’t tell you just yet—and then he found part of a letter I’d written to Mum in the document storage room, after I’d moved back out, talking about not wanting the others to find out the truth. Combined with the fact that he’d just finished reading a statement from Trevor Herbert—you know, the vampire hunter? Apparently he didn’t actually die after giving his first one—and he sort of overreacted. Then I told him the only thing I’d been lying about was my job history, and he could relax. Said he was honestly rather relieved.”

Martin nearly chokes on the sip of tea he’s just taken. Setting it down on the table, he takes a moment to clear his throat, then says in as neutral a voice as he can, “He said the same thing to me. At the end. He wasn’t…mad or anything. Just told me to ask for help if I need it. And then he had me spend the rest of the day on filing. Wants me to look for statements that…might help with the current situation?”

He’s not sure why that comes out as a question. The other gives a thoughtful hum. “There are a few out there. Jane Prentiss made a statement in…let me think, 2014? It’s been a while since I listened to it. And I honestly don’t know exactly where it is in here.”

“Yeah, things are pretty out of order. Jon can’t figure out why Gertrude just shoved things wherever.”

“Ah—that’s a—”

“Don’t tell me. It’s a long story,” Martin says, a bit sourly.

“I know, you’re getting tired of hearing that,” the other says, sounding apologetic. “It really is, though. And…this isn’t the best place or time to tell it.”

“Why not?” Martin knows he sounds like a petulant toddler, but he feels like he’s being treated like one. “What’s the big deal?”

“I’m—waiting for someone else. Once they get here, we’ll tell you—all of you—but really, this is…they explain it better than I do. And they know how to keep you all safe once you know it. I don’t. There’s only so much I can tell you without putting you at risk, and frankly putting our whole plan to save the world in jeopardy. And I’m sorry, I know how much you hate feeling like you’re being…brushed off or kept in the dark or whatever, but I’m not doing this for fun. For right now, just know that Gertrude had her reasons, and they were…I’m not going to say they were valid, because I’m not sure it would have made a difference if she had organized the Archives properly, but I’m not sure they didn’t at least slow things down a bit.” The other takes a deep breath. “We’ll tell you everything as soon as we can. Promise.”

“When is…this someone else supposed to get here?” Martin asks. The speech took a bit of the wind out of him, actually.

“Soon, I hope. We’re…relying on someone else for transportation, shall we say, and we were warned it would be unreliable. Problem is, I don’t know if we came through at the same time but in different places, or if we’ll come through in the same place but at different times.”

“And you don’t have a way of communicating with one another?”

The other hesitates again. “Not…really. They can find me, though. In theory, anyway. They always could before. And if they can’t, well, we both know the plan, and it involves the Archives, so they’ll be heading this way anyway. I just…don’t know for sure.”

Martin bites his lip. “Is it—look, what if you came through the same place at different times, but they got here first? Would they have…”

“They’d have found me by now. I’d bump into them trawling through the Archives after you’re supposed to be sleeping.” A familiar dimple winks in the other’s cheek as he smiles, if only for a second. “Trust me. I know it’s hard to believe, but they wouldn’t have just…left me. Wherever they are, if they’ve come through somewhere else, they’re looking for me.”

Martin tries not to be skeptical, but he can’t help but think that whoever this someone else is, they must be someone he hasn’t met yet. Even Tim or Sasha, if they came back in time with him to fix something, would immediately apply themselves to solving the problem rather than waste time worrying about where he might be. Unless something changes drastically between now and whenever his counterpart came back—you know, besides the end of the world—he very much doubts they ever would. He wants to ask when he meets this person, but decides against it. The fact that his counterpart has changed the timeline means that now he might not meet that person, and that’s a bit of a depressing thought. That saving the world might come at the cost of Martin being that important to someone.

It’s worth it, but it’s still a bit depressing.

“Would they have looked for you before?” The question slips out before he can stop it, and he wants to bite his tongue in half, then decides, to hell with it. He might as well press on. “Before the end of the world, I mean.”

“Not only would they,” the other says, quietly but with steel in his voice, “but they did. They found out I was heading into a dangerous situation and practically moved heaven and earth to find me and bring me back safely. Almost literally. So when I say I know they’re coming, I know. I’m more certain of that than I’ve ever been of anything else in my life.”

“And you’re not…worried about them?”

“Constantly. Just like I’m sure they worry about me. But I know they won’t give up on me, any more than I’ll ever give up on them. They’ll find me.”

“Why don’t you go find them?” Martin asks. If whatever plan they have involves them needing to be together…

The other shakes his head slowly. “If they’re going to come out at the same place but not the same time, I’ll just be wasting time I could be using to lay the groundwork here. And if they’re already on the way from wherever they ended up…what if we miss one another? I’m not adding to their worries more than I have to.”

Martin desperately wants to change the subject now. He can hear the strain in the other’s voice, but more than that, he hears the undercurrent of real, genuine love. He and…whoever else is coming back…have a deep bond, nigh-unshakable, and Martin wants that, longs for it. And it kills him knowing that he’s likely not going to get it. He’s sure he’ll never meet this person now.

“So,” he says finally. “Until they get here…what can you tell me?”

The other takes a slow, thoughtful sip of his tea. “I can tell you that you’re in danger.”

“But you said—”

“Oh, not from the worms. Not really. It’s the Archives. The Institute.”

The other pauses. For a long moment there’s no sound but the usual noises of an old building settling for the evening and the gentle susurration of the climate control system. Martin sips at the tea, feels the herbs curl gently into his stomach, and wonders how much anxiety is going to surge past the soothing mint and chamomile as soon as his older counterpart starts talking again. That the Institute is creepy isn’t really news to him, but dangerous?

“There are…forces in this world you know nothing about,” the other says at last. “Powerful beings. They thrive on fear. They are fear. And one of them was behind the founding of the Institute.”

“And it’ll—do what? Hurt me? Control me?”

“Not…really? Not on purpose, anyway. It’s fond of you.”

Martin supposes that makes sense. A being that thrives on fear? He must be a veritable feast. Especially right now. It’s probably fond of him the way a glutton might be fond of a smorgasbord, or at least a cheeseboard if anxiety doesn’t quite have the same level of sustenance as fear. For a wild moment, he considers asking, then decides in favor of listening silently to the other continue.

“But these beings have…I don’t even really know what to call them. Servants? Worshipers? Devotees? We used to call some of them avatars, but that’s not really accurate. There are people who come under their power, willingly or unwillingly, and some of them get powers from these things. They don’t lose their free will, for the most part. They still have a degree of autonomy under their powers, although they can be punished, sometimes pretty severely, for doing something too contrary to what their…entity wants, or needs. But…well. There’s at least one person under the—being that founded the Institute’s thrall that doesn’t care if you get hurt or not. Right now, anyway.”

“Right now,” Martin repeats. “And later?”

“Hopefully, you’ll never have to find out what he can do if he does want to hurt you.”

The pain in the other’s voice is palpable, and he looks…lost. Martin’s blood runs cold as he considers the possible interpretations of that. Logically, a fear being that wants to hurt you would make you more afraid, right? But possibly give you a valid reason for that fear, so that you’d be irrationally afraid of seemingly innocuous things later. Like in the Carlos Vittery statement, when he accidentally killed a spider and then fell into the egg sac and was swarmed by them and…

“Hang on,” Martin blurts. “Is there—does one of these fear beings have to do with spiders?”

“Ah—yes, actually. Not the one that runs the Institute, though.”

“Christ, is that why Jon’s so averse to spiders? He ran into that being once? Did it hurt him? Is it still after him?”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” The other holds out a hand, palm outward. “Short answers? Yes, yes, not exactly, and sort of. There’s a lot going on there. But that’s why I told you last night to keep an eye out for spiders. They invariably mean something is messing with him. Again.”

Martin exhales heavily. He likes spiders, always has, stemming back to his grandfather reading him Charlotte’s Web every afternoon for two weeks when he was in bed with the chicken pox. A lot of the things he loves—spiders, poetry, cherry preserves, Highland cattle—are things he discovered, or more accurately was given, at his grandfather’s knee. His mother’s father, with whom Martin had spent more time than either of his parents even before his father walked out on them, the man who taught Martin everything from his parents’ native Polish to knitting, who walked with a cane but never showed any difficulty keeping up with his only grandson. Who never told him not to be afraid, but always showed him how to fight back against his fears. His grandfather loved him—is probably the last person who really loved him, if Martin’s being honest—and he still misses him sorely. He’s never admitted to Jon that’s why he gets so defensive about spiders, but now he wonders what Jon would say if he did.

“Did you ever tell him?” he asks, then clarifies when the other gives him an odd look. “Why you like spiders so much. About Granddad and all.”

“A little. Not about the spiders, though. By the time we were close enough to talk about that sort of thing, I understood a little better why he didn’t like them and we avoided the subject if we could.”

Martin wants to ask how long that took, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to force things if it won’t happen that quickly for him, and he also doesn’t want to hold back from trying if he hears that it’s “supposed” to be a while. Let things happen at their own pace, he supposes. That’s all he really can do.

“Hypothetically speaking,” he says slowly, “and not to change the subject, but…how long do you have to stop the world from ending?”

The other puffs out his cheeks and exhales. “Couple years? But it’s…we’re trying to slow the prep work, so to speak. We’re hoping we can stop it altogether. Might only be able to delay the inevitable, but we have to try.”

“Even though you survived the world ending?”

“Especially because we survived the world ending.”

“Did we all survive it?” Martin asks. “Tim? Sasha? Jon?”

There’s a long silence before the other replies, “Everyone who was alive when the world ended continued to be alive after. It’s just that a lot of them wished they weren’t.”

Martin really, really wishes he didn’t ask. And even though he’s burning to know whether any of them regretted being alive past the end of the world, he decides to table that question…for now. The other looks like he’s in real pain, and Martin wouldn’t make that worse even if it wasn’t his own face he’s seeing that look on. Which is still really weird to contemplate.

“So what can I do?” he asks instead.

“I told you. Keep—”

“Keep Jon safe, I know. That’s—you should know you don’t have to actually tell me to do that, really. But I mean…other than that. What can I do to help you?”

The other pauses. He tilts his head slightly to one side, like he’s listening to something Martin can’t hear, or like he’s studying him, or maybe just like he’s thinking. Finally, he says, “Where are you hiding the fire extinguishers?”

“Everywhere I can.” Martin wonders that the other doesn’t know that, if he was, well, him.

“No, I know that. It’s just…I don’t have my bearings anymore. The Archives…I haven’t been down here in, well, a long time. I don’t remember where everything is off the top of my head. And trying to find things without—” The other stops. “I’m trying not to be seen by any of you, really. Obviously I’m failing, but I’m trying. It’s hard to move around without…making noise or drawing attention. Harder than it used to be, anyway.”

“Oh.” Martin should have guessed that. He thinks for a minute. “I’ll grab you a couple, if you want. Then you can put them somewhere you’ll remember. I’d give you this one, but…”

The other smiles. “Thank you. I do appreciate that. But if you’re asking what you can do to help with the plan…well, you really can help best by keeping Jon safe.”

“Are you going to ever tell me what the plan is?”

“Eventually. When it’s not just me. It’s—it’s going to take some work. Not as easy as we’d like it to be, and…well, there’s a bit of an additional difficulty now. I don’t know how long it’s going to take us to be ready, or able, to do what needs doing. But we were always planning to bring you all in.”

Martin is bursting with questions, but he tries to tamp it down and be patient. “In that case…want me to fill you in on what we’re working on? Will that help?”

The other’s smile is broad and wistful. “Absolutely. Let’s hear it.”

#the magnus archives #tma #time travel fix it au #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#Martin Blackwood Protects Himself By Telling Himself Absolutely Nothing #ollie writes fanfic

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rainbhrts94writes · 4 years ago

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Tephra 03

Hello! Here’s the next thrilling instalment, hope you enjoy the banter as much as I do! :)

POV: Taehyung Warnings: None this chapter Word Count: 2.7K Rating: PG

Master List

Tephra 03

Namjoon had been acting weird, and not his usual weird, weirder than normal weird. Since he had started looking for that girl from the landslide, Joon had become hard to get ahold of, or when Taehyung had managed to find his brother, he always had somewhere to be. Taehyung hadn’t thought anything of it, though, until he caught sight of his brother breaking the curfew, not once, not twice, but three times. Sure, he wasn’t exactly abiding by it either, but for Joon not to follow the rules, something had to be going on, so Taehyung did what any good brother would do. He followed him.

It was that awful time of year where it was cold when you woke up and warm as classes let out for training. He never knew how to dress, but Taehyung had always hated being hot, so tonight he was wildly underdressed for the weather. As wonderful as his trusty flip flops were, it was moments like this where he wished he had inherited fire magic instead.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Taehyung kept up with Namjoon as he headed towards the training grounds. After-hours training, specifically unsupervised after-hours training, was one of the worst rules you could break; anyone who was caught was expelled. This had to be important for Namjoon to be risking expulsion.

Taehyung watched curiously as his brother knocked on the large wooden doors to the grounds; he didn’t get to see much, though, immediately encased in stone in his hiding spot. He had been caught.

“You are literally the least conspicuous person I’ve ever met.” A voice poked fun at Joon.

“I’m not sure I follow.” He could hear the confusion in his brother’s voice.

“Gods, you’re just lucky he cares about you enough to follow you instead of telling a teacher.” The voice sighed, clearly exasperated as the earth shifted beneath him.

“Oh.” When Namjoon turned around, he looked stunned, and it took everything for Taehyung not to laugh.

“Hi, Hyung.” He smiled. “Hello, Hyung’s friend.” he recognized her from the landslide. At least Namjoon found who he was looking for. What were they both doing out past curfew, though?

“YN, you can call me YN.” She introduced herself. “I believe we’ve met before, briefly.”

“The landslide,” Taehyung confirmed with the shake of his head and a smile. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“All part of the job.” She bowed slightly and shifted, so her badge hit the light. That explained why she hadn’t been in any of the classes. Though Taehyung was still confused, what was Joon doing out past curfew?

“Friendship isn't supposed to be considered a job.” Namjoon finally piped up.

“It is if you’re going to get yourself followed here every other night.” YN laughed, “Technically, it is still my job, though, friends or not.”

“So, uh, as comfortable as I am. Is there a protocol for this situation? Am I in trouble? Do I pretend I didn’t see anything? Can I come in for snacks? Do you even have snacks?” Taehyung asked the now bickering pair.

“I, crap, give me a second.” Without waiting for an answer, YN jogged back into the training grounds shutting the door behind her.

“I didn’t peg you as the illegal activities sort of guy.” Taehyung poked fun at his brother.

“I can have fun too.” Namjoon countered, looking a little peeved. “What about you? You had to be out past the curfew to have noticed me, let alone follow me here.”

“See, I AM the illegal activities sort of guy. I was just sitting on the roof admiring the sky when I noticed my plucky older brother wandering somewhere he shouldn’t be wandering.” Taehyung enjoyed watching his brother bristle.

“Taehyung, you are a member of the Atlas royal family now. How many times do you have to be told there are rules we have to follow.” Namjoon’s words were staccato, even though his eyes didn’t match the harshness of his tone.

“Technically, I’m only legally royal. The minute they find out if our younger sister can use magic or not, I’m immediately less important.” Taehyung tried to shrug, but his shoulders got caught on the rock surrounding him.

“Just because you're last in line for the throne does not mean negative actions on your part don’t affect the family.” Namjoon sighed.

“I’m not so sure about that; I’m not related to the royal family by blood.” he relaxed against the cool stone. “I’m sure they’d just disown me and move on. Reese would take my place in line with her legitimate magic and all that. I could write to my mom, maybe find my sister?”

“You make it sound like you’ve planned this out?” Namjoon questioned, now obviously warry.

“Not in an, ‘I’m going to do something illegal and get kicked out of school and the family,’ kind of way. I’ve always prepared myself for the possibility that I’d be removed from succession if someone questioned my lineage enough, though.” Taehyung said honestly.

“Just because you’re not related to us by blood doesn’t mean you’d be so willingly discarded,” Namjoon spoke, clearly trying to reassure his brother. “Besides, father had your old estate searched for any remains years ago. They never found anything; what makes you think your sister made it out alive?”

“They never found anything.” Taehyung’s voice grew serious. “That whole estate collapsed and was burned to the ground. They found my dad; why wouldn’t they have found her?”

“I don’t know Tae; I wouldn't get your hopes up about that. Even if she was alive, wouldn’t she have tried to find you by now? Or at the very least, your mom?” Namjoon tried to sympathize.

“What if she can’t?”

Before his brother could answer him, the stone surrounding Taehyung disappeared, and the large wooden doors swung open.

“Okay, you’re clear. He says you can come in.” YN skipped over towards the two of them. “There’s some ground rules though, before you do.”

---

Taehyung had never been one for rules, but technically by following these rules, he was breaking some pretty major ones. So he let it go. The entire situation was odd; not only were there a few hundred people from families just like his, the Academy was willingly training these people against the law. It was badass. If Taehyung had any shot at finding his sister, he could start here.

Yoongi had explained when he was brought in that this needed to be kept under wraps. None of the instructors from Atlas knew about what was happening when the bells rang, and it needed to stay that way. Joon had basically signed his life away to the Min family by agreeing to keep all of this a secret, so Taehyung followed suit. He was distantly related to Yoongi after all; maybe if his life came crashing down around him in the future, this interaction would win him favor and refuge in the Adiyan Empire. That’s where his dad was from, so he had always wanted to visit.

“Hello, Earth to Taehyung.” YN’s hand waving in front of his face snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“There he is.” She snickered before continuing. “Does this all make sense? Do you have any questions?”

“I’ve always got questions,” Taehyung responded with his favorite boxy smile.

“Do you have questions we can answer?” Yoongi sighed as he leaned back in his chair.

“Probably not.” Taehyung shrugged as he drummed his fingers on the desk.

“Okay then, you can come by whenever you want, or never. It doesn’t matter as long as you don’t get caught by professor Rittenhouse.” YN spoke plainly. “I’m on nighttime guard duty for a week at a time, once every month, but I frequent the grounds during the day when I’m off duty if you ever need me.”

“How is that off duty?” Namjoon asked the question Taehyung had been thinking.

“If I see something stupid, I can get someone else to deal with it.” YN chuckled. “I’m more of what you’d call reserve forces.”

“Still have no idea how making rounds during the day is considered off duty, but maybe I'm not understanding something right.” Taehyung joked.

“He’s got a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” YN smirked as she deferred to Yoongi.

“Runs in the family.” Yoongi mentioned nonchalantly.

“What? Is everyone at this table related to each other?” Namjoon smoothed the wrinkles out of his forehead. “You should find a better joke.”

“Nah, I kind of like it.” YN continued, poking at Joon’s arm.

“Of course you do.” Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“All that aside, you’re free to join us on training days.” Yoongi offered. “They rotate through instructors from Adyia, Cordelia, and the Arribellian Alliance. So we get a pretty interesting training regiment.”

“Do you spar with each other?” Taehyung wondered aloud.

“We do, unlike the other classes here, we’re a healthy mix of people from all nations. So we work with what we’ve got.” YN stated proudly. “You may come to find that the style of magic students here use differs greatly from what you see in your field training and exercises, though.”

“Sounds like fun; when can I start?” Taehyung sat up a little straighter in his chair.

“We start in about twenty minutes. This one here was coming early to spar with YN.” Yoongi pointed to Namjoon.

“Before you even ask, YN is part of the Academy’s night watch and Head Mistress Cecilia’s personal retinue. She is plenty skilled in non-magic based combat arts.” Namjoon boasted.

“So she can teach me how to use a sword,” Taehyung asked in excitement.

“I could, but that’s definitely the face of someone who shouldn’t have a sword.” YN laughed out loud as she answered his question.

“But I’ve always wanted to use a sword. If not a sword, what about a lance? Or something stealthy like assassin knives.” Taehyung’s voice grew with his enthusiasm.

“Again, yes, but also no.” YN’s eyes crinkled as she smiled.

“I’m more concerned about your choice in weaponry.” Namjoon sighed, shaking his head.

“Eh, they’re pretty standard choices.” YN shrugged. “I’m just glad he didn’t ask about a broad sword. Those things are heavy, and I’d hate to be the one to break the news to string bean over there.”

“Hey!” Taehyung shot out of his seat. “I’m perfectly capable of lifting a broadsword! I can manipulate metal, too you know.”

“Oho, big man on campus.” YN straightened herself and gestured towards the door. “Let's see what you got then.”

“I’m not getting trained tonight, am I?” Namjoon whispered to nobody in particular.

“Nope.” Yoongi shrugged and followed the pair out into the ground to join the other students. “Should’ve thought of that before you got her all riled up.”

“I didn’t rile anyone up!” Namjoon argued.

“No, but you brought dumb to dumber, so it’s sort of your fault.” Yoongi smiled to himself “Do you wanna train or talk?”

“Train, I want to train!” Namjoon spoke as he ran after Yoongi.

—-

It’s not that Taeyhyung thought they had been lying, just that he didn’t expect the training courses to be so different. He’d been exposed to magic at a young age, and had the privilege of learning from a private instructor for most of his life. Sure he wasn’t the best, but he didn’t expect to be this covered in dirt, let alone panting after one day of new exercises.

“You ready to tap out?” YN asked from across the field.

“Never!” Taehyung smiled, straightening himself and preparing for another round of attacks.

Once the ground started flying his way he threw up a shield, hoping to deflect a majority of debris. The problem Taehyung had always had with the style of magic taught to most earth mage’s was it was way too defense heavy. Sure you could take a beating, but unless you were fighting against another earth mage it was difficult to take an offensive position once you began defending.

“I keep telling you, you’ve got to redirect, not deflect.” YN spoke beside him and Taehyung felt his soul leave his body.

“How did you get that close that fast?” Taehyung asked, bewildered.

“I made a tunnel.” YN shrugged and took a stance in front of him. “Now, stand like this.”

“Isn’t that a water mage stance?” Tae asked.

“Good eye.” YN only paused briefly before continuing. “Water mages have exceptional offensive and defensive capabilities.”

“You’re sure that’s not just because it’s easier to see through water than it is earth?” Taehyung asked.

“That may be a part of it, but not all of it. Watch Nik.” YN pointed at the tall, dark haired male working with the other earth mages. “When you use water magic, it’s about fluidity. Part of that is being able to take the momentum of your assailant’s attack and use it against them. Taehyung watched carefully as YN mimicked Nik’s movements, it was almost as if they were dancing. Not shy he joined in, carefully matching YN step for step.

“That’s good, just like that.” YN encouraged. “Watch your hands though, they look like limp noodles and that’s not gonna redirect anything.”

“You don’t know that.” Taehyung stood up, placing his hands on his hips.

“I do, but if you don’t believe me we can have you try for yourself.” YN smiled and took a few steps back.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re the reason they tell people who smile like I did earlier that they can’t have swords.” Taehyung snickered as he took the new stance.

“Perceptive.”

Taehyung didn’t have time to respond before YN started with another round of projectiles. Her control over the earth was astoundingly good, so he had been surprised when YN had mentioned she wasn’t very good with metal based magics. He’d never met someone who could move the earth that efficiently who couldn't at least utilize metal magic. Something was very weird about YN, but he couldn't put his finger on it, not that she left him much time to think about it now.

The first few flying rocks were deflected, mostly out of habit, until Taehyung remembered what the point of this exercise was. Redirect. Switching his feet he moved into an unfamiliar position and did his best to remember the new movements.

It was messy at first, and the few stones that made it through stung as they bit into his uncovered arms. Eventually though, one of them moved right. Sort of, the projectile spun around Taeyhung like it was caught in some sort of orbit, before careening off to the side in the opposite direction of his target.

“You need to relax! Use your momentum!” YN called as she sent another round of rocks.

Taehyung took a deep breath and let the tension in his shoulders leave with the exhale. When he opened his eyes the projectile YN sent was nearly there. He was sure it wasn’t graceful looking, but despite the awkwardness of his movements, when his hand made contact with the earth he spun it around and launched it back in her direction. Even though YN caught it without hesitation, Taehyung couldn’t help the elation that bubbled up and out of him.

“Yes! That was it, wasn't it?!”

“It was,” YN smiled at him proudly and gave him a thumbs up.

“Again, let’s do it again!” Tae took his stance matching YN.

The longer the exercise went on the larger the flying rocks got. Taehyung was enjoying the challenge YN provided, and when he knocked her down he whooped.

“Nice shot!” YN laughed as she rolled onto her stomach. “You’re fast.”

“Of course I am.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrows at her and gave her a boxy smile.

“You two are having too much fun.” Namjoon commented as he and Yoongi walked over.

“No such thing.” YN smiled up at Joon as he offered her a hand.

Taehyung watched the pair, the tiniest pangs of jealousy bouncing around in his ribcage. That made no sense though, he’d only just met this girl, why would he be upset?

“YN!” Taehyung called to get her attention. “Can I help you with your metal magic?”

She blinked at him in disbelief, “You can try.” She answered.

“I like a good challenge.” Taehyung expressed as he jogged over to join the other three.

“You may be in over your head.” Yoongi grimaced.

“You don’t have any earth mages here right?” Taehyung asked, knowing the answer. “Maybe I can help fill the gap?”

#tephra 03 #BTS au #bts fantasy au #bts reader insert #bts taehyung #bts yoongi #bts namjoon

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

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Three different topics

Hi! Sorry to bother you again. Jist wanted to know your opinion on 3 RWBY topics that have been swimming in my brain.

Ironwood was fine with it

I find it hilariously sad (maybe even ironic?) that the RWBY writers tried so hard to frame Ruby&Co as completely in the right for not saying anything to him because ‘who knows how Ironwood would react?!’ But in the end, they’re still wrong. He reacted just fine. Better than, even. No yelling, berating, or mental breakdowns in sight. So they proved themselves wrong. While trying to prove themselves right. I’m torn between laughing until I can’t breathe or screaming until I can’t breathe.

Whitley

With the way the writing is going, I’m kinda worried that they’ll end up playing the 'Whitley is like his father’ thing seriously. Because if they don’t, then Weiss would have been wrong about him. And in this pro-protagonist dystopia that they’ve created, that’s not allowed to happen. But in order to make Weiss the righteous one, they’ll have to demonize Whitley to prove that Weiss was correct about him. And I’m incredibly uncomfortable with the notion that they might just end up doing that. Because while they haven’t been so far, I don’t trust them to stick to their story the way it’s been written. They haven’t stuck with anything else after all. (Except hating Ozpin. Seriously, did the voice actor or the character do something to them? At this point I’m wondering 'did Ozpin run over your puppy? Steal your significant other? Call your mother fat?’ This level of hatred seems a bit obsessive..)

The Grimm and Salem

I don’t know if both the writers and the characters have forgotten, but… do they understand that the Grimm still exist separate to Salem? Like, she can control them, sure. But she didn’t bring them into existence. She dived into a Grimm pool that already existed and gained her abilities. Do they realize that the way the story is setup even if the main characters defeat Salem, the Grimm don’t just cease to exist? One of the biggest 'Ozpin is evil!’ arguments that I’ve heard is that he was sending people to die by going up against Salem, but he was sending them to fight Grimm. The things that she did not create. The things that will still be roaming around attacking people with or without her. I don’t know if that was intentional? (I doubt it.) But this is a major problem with the narrative. 'Ozpin was sending people to die!’ Yeah. Against the Grimm. The things that you already signed up to fight and potentially die to. As far as I can tell the only ones who were actually supposed to be doing anything involving Salem were Qrow and Raven. And they were just supposed to be surveillance. 'We just have to take down Salem!’ But there will still be Grimm. The terrible nightmare creatures that like to tear people apart. Remember them? 'Just collect the relics! That’ll solve the Grimm problem!’ And then you’ll have to deal with uniting people. Everyone. Like Jacques Schnee. Unless you plan to kill everyone that presents a problem to you. It just feels like the show is focusing way too heavily on the 'Salem’ part of the story, when the other two problems are just as bad, if not worse. Salem at the end is one person (simplified down). The Grimm are much bigger in numbers, can show up anywhere, and don’t go down by taking out one. Uniting humanity is another problem because there’s always going to be someone who thinks of themselves as 'better.’ But, you know, Salem. Sure.

************

RWBY topics, hell yeah! Putting the rest below a readmore to save dash space.

1. Oh my god don’t get me started on that. The real kicker is that I agree with them. In that I agree that EVERYONE should be very careful about who they reveal this information to. I’ve never once thought that Ruby and company were in the wrong for being cautious, only in their and the writing’s insistence that only they can be cautious whereas Ozpin and Ironwood are horrible, flawed people for doing the exact same thing. Regardless of that though, the group was indeed proven wrong this last episode whereas Ozpin was proven RIGHT:

Ozpin: I don’t want to tell you this because I’m afraid that you will betray me and lose hope in our mission

Group: [Proceeds to betray him by stealing the relic, stealing Jinn’s name, ripping his whole past from him, denying him any sympathy or support, physically assaulting him, driving him off, losing hope for a stretch, and continually painting him as a convenient scapegoat to all their problems]

Ozpin: [Hanging out in Oscar’s head] Oh wow look at that, I was totally justified in being cautious with them. They handled that horribly.

vs.

Group: We’re going to do to Ironwood precisely what Ozpin did to us---only with more stakes attached---because who KNOWS how Ironwood might react. If we went on drinking binges and attacked a kid over this, imagine what a man with real power would do

Ironwood: [A level-headed adult who, unlike the group, has actually proven his trustworthiness in the past, who is not inclined to blame others for bad situations or physically attack them] Wow this is horrifying. Astoundingly though I’m not going to punch you over it. However, I am going to jump straight to blaming Ozpin and absolving you because heaven forbid anyone acknowledge the hypocrisy around here

tl:dr yeah I’m still salty

2. Oh man I hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility... but yeah. It’s far from impossible based on a) how we’ve seen RWBY treat male abuse victims in the past (not well) and b) RWBY’s endless ability to straight up ignore things they’ve established. Meaning, we saw in The Lost Fable a huge amount of sympathy for Ozpin which was then completely erased to make him the thematic antagonist. In the same way, we may have seen Weiss coming to that realization that Whitley needs her help... but in RWBY’s writing that means absolutely nothing. We can’t bank on them following up on that because they haven’t bothered to follow up on so much else. We may very well get an evil!Whitley arc and a heroic!Weiss arc to contrast him, leaving the viewer wondering, “What happened to that epiphany you had with your mother about how Whitley has little to no chance of change unless he receive support from someone other than his father?” and the answer will be, “Wait, you thought RWBY was consistent?”

3. Perfect example of this: literally everything you’ve laid out in regards to the grimm. That has frustrated me for volumes now, ever since the group (and the fandom) started painting Ozpin and his connection to Salem as the sole reason for why things are bad in the world. As if there isn’t, as you say, literal monsters running around devouring people entirely disconnected from her and her spat with the gods. The group willingly signed up to risk their lives to fight grimm. They knew they were fighting an immortal enemy in the form of the grimm. They know they’ve done important work by protecting people from grimm. They know the grimm will still be there even if the Salem threat is taken care of... but no one ever acknowledges this. The writing has forgotten its primary antagonist. Is Salem a super big danger that they need to take care of as soon as possible? Absolutely, but getting rid of her doesn’t solve every problem like the group seems to think it will and it certainly can’t act as a convenient excuse now that things have gotten harder. “You had us risking our lives to kill an immortal woman!” This is what I mean when I say that RWBY’s writing and much of RWBY’s fandom literally just makes stuff up. That is not what happened. Everyone go back and watch Ruby begging Ozpin to let her into Beacon because she, of her own agency and free will, wants to fight the very real monsters that are threatening her world. Salem only makes that problem worse.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #rwby volume 7 spoilers #mymetas #submission

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thestudyfeels · 6 years ago

Text

How To NOT Be Depressed.

(Or If You Prefer — How to Be Substantially Happy About Life.)

WARNING: This is one rollercoaster ride of a post. Proceed with extreme caution. For some, the staggering levels of insight may induce true purpose and re-establish their warrior spirit. For others, side effects may include grammatically incorrect hate or aloof eyerolls. We advise exiting if the said group includes you, for we're very tired of cleaning vomit off the seats.

Step aboard at your own risk.

If you’re one of the brave souls who stayed back to join us, I congratulate you for even I am scared of how crazy this post truly is. Alrighty then, kick back and relax folks, today we’re having a mature, adult conversation. Merely another cheery afternoon spent talking about life and its realities. Not too bad, eh?

Before we begin, spoiler alert! For those of you already turned off by the mention of 'depression’ and packing their bunnies to leave, sit tight. This ISN'T really about depression. This is about HAPPINESS. No clickbait. That got your attention, right butterfly? Nice, now stay.

A welcoming, maybe demanding A/N: Do me a favor and read this in one go. Maybe even plug in those headphones and listen to the songs dedicated to each part as you read. It's long, you have the new Riverdale episode to catch up on, but don't hop away just yet because (I had a couple moments writing this, alright) it's life changing. You'll prolly cry a few tears of realization, nod all nod-able body parts in agreement, beat your chest at random instants 'cause the hype’s too real, and perhaps, if it isn’t too much to hope for, finally go change your life for the better. In case you've forgotten, this'll remind you that there’s always hope, that you're a born conqueror, and you were made to THRIVE, not survive. Convinced? Kay, roll the cams.

To clarify first-hand, no, I'm not depressed although I’ve experienced mild depression for a period before. Glad to say I'm out of it but I still struggle with tackling what I'm about to detail next.

Insert bitter voice, it’s this: My life is nowhere near I want it to be. Though I know vaguely what I wanna do, I haven't yet figured out how the hell I’m supposed to get there, or how my dream life is to be sketched out. It’s all a blurry mess. Which, to put it bluntly, hurts. I HATE feeling powerless and worthless, roaming about aimlessly.

There are many such moments where I hit the brakes to wonder why I’m not living THE Life already. There have been several times when I curl up and cry a frickin’ Amazon. There are horrible nights where I'm shaking with emotions, but they won't release, leaving me choked. (…not in that way, you hoes. Um, just ruined the dramatic mood with a lame dirty joke, sorry.)

They say talking helps and that's why I figured I'd drop in. But perhaps more importantly, I wanted to hang because no matter how unfocused the lens may seem at my future, I don't consider myself a dopey loser incapable of the crazy dreams or wild bucket lists I fantasize about– and I thought I'd skip along to remind you that neither should you. (Or maybe I just came to sniff the new appetizers, who knows?)

PS: I also broke a sweat listing six ways to get outta depression– alternatively, to be more of a conqueror– because y'all are always pestering me with asks that go “how do I conquer omg send supplies” (Like, imagine a conqueror saying that! Oh, the crime, the atrocity!)

So yes, you're welcome. Have a feast with this litness.

The main reason behind people being so frightfully sad, I’ve found, is a huge lack of fulfillment. We don't do what we love, for either— [ 1 ] we aren’t living life the way we want to (since we keep doing things we feel we're supposed to do) OR [ 2 ] because Mama, Papa and Mrs. Carter next door feel that struggling is the only way, and project their traditional beliefs onto us. Either way, whether or not we consciously realize this, subconsciously, we're all hurting because of it. Badly.

That lingering feeling of emptiness never seems to leave. You feel drained every night when you drop into bed, not because you gave it your all, but because you couldn't. And so, we do the next best thing. Drugs. Maybe not literally, but figuratively. We numb out this subconscious pain by binge watching Netflix shows. We deaden ourselves to that discomfort by reading smut in the bathroom or by playing dumb video games all day. We try (and fail) to extinguish this feeling of not ‘being enough’ by having silly flings or fake friendships.

And ultimately, we NUMB ourselves out to LIFE for we can't bear to live the way we're living. There's a reason why “How to Stop Procrastinating” posts are so popular (they’re a blogger’s most foolproof way of paying the month’s rent, and yes, even I'm guilty of a couple). We’re constantly having FOMO and tuning into others' highlights on social media– completely missing out on our own lives in the process. We fail to realize that the culprit is lack of genuine purpose more than zero self-control (or maybe it’s both, but that’s a tale for another day).

[On a side note, obviously I did generalize a bit– video games can be a passion for you, watching shows a way of winding down. But for most, they’re only DISTRACTIONS, just another way of ignoring the calls of life by hanging up the phone.]

And here's the bitter truth about depression: The longer you wait to start living authentically, the more you start tuning out the inner cries wanting change, the faster your dreams start to ebb away, and the more you'll want to become insignificant. And to me, that's the scariest part of this journey to my dream life.

Nothing frightens me more than knowing that the moment I stop pushing, the very moment I give in to distractions and fears, my goals will stop manifesting themselves and I'll be stuck in this small town with its small people eternally. And THAT, I'm certain, won't be any more fun than working your way through a soggy ham sandwich, ironic as soggy is what life has become. (Yes, I have a thing against soggy sandwiches. They were a kid's worst lunch nightmare.)

If you relate, and I’m sure you do (it’s probably why you stopped scrolling through cheesy fanfic for ten minutes to read this, I know you amigo) — here are six ways to NOT be depressed. Or more accurately, to gift wrap yourself some sweet ol’ happiness.

You're a Samurai and the Following Be Your Katanas —

Hol’ up. The second you reach the End Card, I want you to drop your Cheerios and implement at least THREE of these six strategies. Just follow the Takeaways, I've made this really simple. And as a rule, one of them has to be this one. (Look, don't whine. If you wanna climb outta that dark hole, you gotta put in some effort. So pop that booty, and let’s get down to business!)

Here’s the most truthful, though cheesy thing I’ll ever say: I would be nowhere I am today without this blog. If not for it, I would most likely be weeping in a dug-out hole somewhere, drowning in my salty little pond of tears and chiming every loser’s favorite words (“there's no point”). Creating this blog gave me a definite purpose – putting out fiery content, dipping myself deep into my newly found passion for writing and influencing, and connecting with other conquerors on the platform.

I meet a lot of folks, whether at Sad School, Mouldy Mall, or Boring Bus stop, who always seem to be in a state of death-inducing boredom. When asked about their favorite thing to do, they’ll mumble “sleep” or “food” like Siri narrating your cat’s evening routine. And then you see adults, dragging through life mindlessly. Utterly clueless, floating like a piece of driftwood in an ocean bubbling with life. My sympathy quota gets overdosed everytime I think about it.

To spell it out, find something to do. Anything! Learn a language, try some ballet, take pictures of your neighbor's rose garden, make an art piece and show it to your mom, stitch buttons onto shirts for fun, heck, make an entire shirt out of buttons, take a break from reading smut to write your own, frutify your farts, WHATEVER, just get up and move.

And here’s why – nay, not to keep you engaged or make you feel less worthless, not that bullcrap. It’s to put in gear the journey of figuring out what is the shite that you love doing. Too often we get stuck thinking about what our oh-so-great passion is. Get this, passion is energy. A spark for something. A magical fortune cookie which, when cracked, seems to explain everything, gives you the very reason for being alive. You can only feel that fire, that wild love, when you actually do it. So get cracking is all I’ll say!

Takeaway:

Attempt something. Nah, scratch that, imagine you’re in a sweet shop with shelves lined with free samples and try everything. Pick up that Polaroid cam, take that dreaded history course, buy that children’s cooking kit– in short, start working. Pull out all the stops, get curious, and get creative. In the process, if you promise to try hard enough, you WILL (money back guarantee) find out what makes your little heart burst with mad happiness and would willingly do for free, if needed, because you really are that crazy about it. And that, my dear, will be your oh-so-great-indeed passion. Have no doubt, you’ll never be “bored” again.

Real talk, having a dream is a big deal. And unfortunately, I’ve witnessed, rarely anyone has one to begin with. They’re either more dead than the cheap skeleton I bought for Halloween or believe they have a dream, but in reality, it belongs to mom, dad, or Uncle Sammy. Listen, doing something for someone you love (my Uncle Sammy used to supply me with cold cash whenever he came around, loved that guy) is great! YET, if you’re willing to throw away your life to fulfill others’ expectations, convincing yourself it's because they love you, even when YOUR lonely heart craves bigger things than just a marketing job, then you, my friend? Are the biggest fool. Don’t get offended, we both know it, this girl needn't ramble.

Recently, my relatives were over (nope, sadly not Uncle Sammy) and my cousin and I had a chat about life (correct, I grab every opportunity to do so). It wasn't very exciting I must say, he kept staring off into the distance (I wonder why), but what he SAID is what I'll talk about. After I’d gushed about my dreams, he asked skeptically if being an influencer would still be an ambition two years from now when I graduate. I raised my eyebrows, mock hurt, like eff you son, I ain’t giving up on my dreams! But that question got me thinking.

Life is wild. Unpredictable. An unexpected call, a single person, a random BLOG POST (cough) – can turn your life upside down, sometimes in the affirmative, other times not. This variability of life isn’t uncommon, and everyone experiences some part of it– unpaid student loans, failing startups, talent and art going unnoticed in industries dominated by wealth and connections, you name it. If all of that doesn’t make you run for the Himalayas and abandon any dreams, throw in a quick side dish of dysfunctionale famiglia with a sprinkle of self-image issues.

It ain’t easy, darling. The world is one cruel headmistress; it loves slapping awake the daydreamers and wishful thinkers. That hasn't ever actually stopped the dropouts and class clowns from building castles in the air though. And the common blueprint you notice they follow? Let me introduce you to… Madness. Obsession. Maniacal obsession, to say. (Yes, I'm done playing with my words.)

I struggled writing this point. A pestering voice in my head kept mumbling – They'll go back to doing the same sad shit anyway. Um, does anyone even read your posts? Lol, call yourself an influencer, hun. Hesitation started creeping in. Then the irony of the situation struck me. I laughed, shook my head and got back to typing.

We ran out of juicy gossip weeks ago, so here’s your tea served cold: insecurities and self doubt WILL get in the way. That whiny voice was just a mild version of what you face when you go all in. Fear traps you in its cage, and those who prattled behind your back now progress to talking shit in your face. Criticism and self doubt resurfaces, so unless your defenses are strong, you'll be crushed. Destroyed REAL quick.

When hell breaks loose (oh honey, and it WILL), your self defense comprising of maniacal obsession must be well learnt. Let them attack, mock, heck, drag you away from the desk and hurl you at the top of a damn mountain, but you better STILL hike back down, show them the middle finger, and continue working. That's how bulletproof you've gotta be. That's how madly do you have to love your dreams. And if you really think this will be a cake walk or want to continue complaining about Stuart being born with a silver spoon, hop off the train already. Your destination isn't on the tour list.

Look, my dreams terrify me. But they certainly make me feel more alive than complying with what every parent said about getting good grades and holding together a roof on my head. My ambitions set me free, give me a reason to fucking live. And yet, every now and then, something makes me question them. A fear engulfs me, some doubter proclaims I suck, someone I love is so blinded they can't see my vision. And that's okay. My defenses are way stronger. The next day rolls round, and you'll find me hustling again, thriving again. All because I know that even if no one reads my posts (the worst case scenario, I know y'all love me lol), someday in the future, someone will. I know that even if I’m not an influencer yet, if just one reader becomes a conqueror because of my words, it would be a win. A big win. I'd have done my job. All because I’m wildly, yes maniacally, obsessed with my dreams.

So hey, cousin? This influencer thing? This will be my dream long after I've graduated. Till the day I die, and maybe even then I'll rise from my grave to give a dead pal a lively pep talk. My watchtower has just been upgraded, so thank u, next.

Takeaway:

“General, we've arrived!” Finally! Position those cannons, Martha, let’s talk them through the defenses. All aboard? AHOY MATEY! (wait, that was one for the pirates). Step one, dare to create a dream in your mind’s eye. The bigger, the crazier, and the scarier, the better. Doesn’t matter how impossible it is, don’t care how many voice their opinion against it, just imagine, keep a million possibilities in mind.

Once you see the life you truly want (you’ll know, everything will seem to zing)— have a sip. Become OBSESSED for that life. Thirst after that vision, itch to manifest it, and pine for the satisfaction that’ll come to your soul once it’s made a reality. Fall madly in love with the process and how magical it feel when you do it. And THEN, bellow a loud war cry and charge headfirst into battle, shields held high at all the criticisms. We conquerors never cared much for them anyway.

(play ♬) Picture this: forehead stamped with beads of sweat. Calloused hands working their fingers to the bone and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Conjure an image where powerful beats are pulsing hard in your ears, synced with your own elevated heartbeats, and you’re thriving. Performing. Winning. Guess the secret to that? Preparation. Champions prepare. You can’t throw anything to the winds or rely on ‘luck’ or chance to conquer.

Tough days are in everyone’s calendar, be it your extra cheerful neighbor, Sally, or lone wolf classmate, Derrick. We’ve all found ourselves sulking over an awful situation, scooping into mint ice cream to forget mistakes, errands, and ghosting exes. Yet guess what? The solution isn’t the proclaimed “be positive!” or “It all happens for a reason, don’t you worry” - the key is coming up with a method to dodge the discouraging effect these hiccups have on us.

So every bad day, I bring out a mason jar containing a knot of chits and one secret letter which is, on most days, kept hidden on the top shelf of my cupboard. I make myself comfortable on the bed, read all my bits of paper carefully, including the letter addressed to yours truly, close my eyes, and mentally fight back whatever’s bringing me down.

A short while later, I get up, now a warrior, and go slay the rest of the day like it was my last one on this planet. That jar is my jar. A Conqueror’s jar. One look at those powerful reminders, and I’m grounded once again, the beast within me now unleashed to kill.

Takeaway:

Honey, go get yourself a jar. Along with some papyrus and ink. Then start jotting down. Document past victories, future visions, fears that mean zilch to the person you’re about to become, batty goals you’ve still gotta chase, reminders that the majority will never understand what it is you’re tryna do here, and how that’s perfectly alright 'cause you'll find your conquerors, your squad one day. Create your victory jar. And then go knock ‘em down dead. Bad days stand no chance against you. You’re a winner, a fucking rebel. Go take what’s yours.

Y’know, I’m perfectly aware that many muggles reading this will whine that dealing with depression ain’t no piece o’ pie and it’s hella hard to get up and take the crown when you feel like a pile of dino dung.

Stop it. Get some help. (See what I did? Like Michael- ok ok, calm thyself.) For real though, and I’m tired of repeating this with my kitten stamped microphone (but I’ll keep at it ‘cause it’s that significant) – whining is WORTHLESS. It saps up precious energy that could be used to make life a scrumptious smoothie. (Loothie? As in life + smoothie? Right, yes, I’m shutting up.)

And even THEN, we find denizens complaining about slow WiFis and thin crust pizzas and how the market’s down and the government’s incompetent. Because blabbering makes us feel important. Heard. But keeping yo’ trap shut and actually doing stuff? Hustling for your dreams when nobody’s watching? Actually walking the talk? C’mon, Emma, don't be naive, ain’t nobody getting recognition for that.

Trust me, I get it. The world is yet to become a feminist, turns out your boyfriend was cheating on you while you were looking up wedding dresses, mommy’s a drunk loser, and idiots are being voted into office. It’s a lot to handle. But thanks to our immense and ever increasing population (we folks really love our rumpy pumpy, can you tell) — there will surely be one chum, facing exactly the same misfortunes as you, but still turning up at every party and bulk-spamming his friends with puppy pictures while you sit and wail. (One Moaning Myrtle is enough, thank you very much.)

Look, I’m not undermining your worries or obstacles. I’m only reminding that you have the marvelous choice of positivity. To CHOOSE hope and a better future when others won't. To FIND (and it's always possible) something to look forward to even when the to-do’s a big snore. To KNOW, deep inside, that you're a magnificent conqueror, no matter what mess you’re in at the moment, and that the world dances to your rhythm. Realise that it's up to you to let yourself be happy. At any moment, you have the very say-so to get up and start rocking. Dumbledore said it himself, “It is our choices, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” So choose better, and you’ll unconsciously do better as well. And yes, that being said, this is the last HP reference, don't fret. Be positive instead. (Edit: Ha, look at these quips, the girl's all grown up now.)

Takeaway:

Your new occupation is to be a sunflower. If you think back, you'll probably recall Miss Honey rattling on about phototropic movement in AP biology. No? Me neither. Point is, sunflowers always face the sun. Put them ANYWHERE, hide them in the dungeons, throw them in a trash bag and shoot it off to the moon, they’ll still turn around and face the sun. No matter what. And taking inspo from that, you too can stop scripting creative soliloquies for being depressed. Happiness is YOUR right, YOUR priority, don't let anyone take it away from you or diminish its importance. DON’T let sadness ruin your vibe, do what you've gotta do to protect yourself. Track happiness in yo’ journal, set 84 reminders on your phone, and tattoo “Long as you’re beaming up at the sun, all the shadows will be left behind” on your boobs. Do whatever, just don’t turn the corners of your mouth down. You’re so pretty this way.

The other day, I was doing the deathly Plié Alternative Heel Lifts (these names, I swear) and my legs felt dead. Gone. Put to sleep like the Wicked Witch of the East. Now obviously, the timer wasn’t not even halfway done yet, but my cheeks were already flushing red like dear Santa, and NOT because I was high on choco chip cookies. I sighed, and at that point, I was so over giving up. All this while, I’d been whining and protesting because my muscles felt sore, but in that moment, I made up my mind. I bit my lip and kept going. On and on. Keep pulsing, you got it, don't stop, was the mantra I kept chanting.

Won’t sugarcoat it, I honestly hadn’t died this much since that time Miss Honey buried me alive with trig assignments. My legs were now basically Play-doh and I was shaking, fighting for balance. A few seconds in though, something crazy happened. My legs went numb. My grumbling mind quietened and the pain vanished. That evening, I had the upper hand, not my physical perceptions of myself. I was powerful. Flawless. (Hey Santa, do you even lift bro?) Real talk, I was in the Zone, bitches.

I’m not sure if that was the result of excessive pain or because Wonder Woman’s spirit possessed ma bod, but staying loyal to my love for metaphors, I’ll use the experience to explain what I’m tryna get at here.

Look, here’s the real deal — if all of the greats gave up the second things got frowny, we probably would have no one to worship. Nix role models, nix inspirations, none to stalk on Insta - we’d all be bumbling about like Sad from the even sadder Emoji movie (no shade, emojis be lit).

And that'd be very sad (pun definitely intended). Hence, cue some tangible ways to boosting your grit, so that you can be your own superhero:

1) Get yo’self a goddamn motto,

2) Know your “Why,”

3) Repeat the cycle till it’s in your blood. Btw, Shawn, if you here, I’m still a single pringl—HEY PAL I SEE YOU, DON'T SCROLL.

Seriously, don't brush these prime steps aside. We're always going for the advanced modes, and deeming these basic levels a waste of time. Well guess what, compadre, YOUR LIFE IS A GODDAMN WASTE O’ TIME IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR BASICS RIGHT. Excuse my outburst, but listen. You can’t do a hundred bicep curls on your first workout if you haven't lifted anything more than a crisps packet. Likewise, if you simply jump into Life one day, and decide “ok, here it is, 12 habits to build, sleep schedule to fix, man to ask out, let's go,” you ain't getting nowhere, chum. Start small. Take baby steps. It's clearly not as fun (definitely negates the bragging on Facebook part of it) but it'll stick. You’ll create a consistency that not even Grandma's cake batter can achieve.

1. Talking mottos — For context, a motto that I always mutter (my mom thinks I'm cursing, oh what a bad child) every time I spill milk while making coffee is “Do more. Give more. BE more.” Not only does it help me stay right on track for the rest of the day but it helps me clean up my mess, figuratively and otherwise, or I’d just be sitting in a puddle of spilt milk, cursing adulting for real this time and with more laundry to do.

2. Why you need the Big Why — Owning up, I’m guilty of attempting to learn Welsh for less than 48 hours because I hadn't a single reason to speak the language. A similar thing happened with half of my 2018 resolutions, which had a bunch of rubbish like “Floss daily”, something my eyes got trained to skip because, um, who the hell flosses every day?

Lame humor aside, I still workout almost daily because I have my Why straight. 1) I want to feel good about my body and get closer to the confident badass I envision my future self to be, 2) I simply HAVE to sustain my health to live to build my legacy and fulfill my dreams of opening a bakery at 90 and 3) Because I’m an influencer, and want to walk my talk and be the inspiration people need. Those are the reasons as to why I turn up to my yoga mat everyday, shut my jabbering mind, and keep on pulsing. This “Why” strategy applies to everything. Wanna get outta depression? Why? Wanna lose 20 pounds? Why? Wanna listen to your dentist’s desperate pleadings and floss already? WHY EH? Unless you know your intentions, you’ll give up at the first chance you get to not act on your goals. And watch out, because there'll be a LOT of those.

For me, leaving a legacy behind means more than having a slice of cake or missing a workout because there’s a fun movie playing. Find what's important to YOU, make it your why, and go marry your goals.

3. And then, Repeat — Bear in mind, if you're not living your best life yet, there are NO weekends. NO work-shy days. No weak days, no pick-me-up days, no eat-candy-do-nothing days. Everyday is a damn Monday. EVERYDAY is life or death. Every holy day you wake up is a chance to push your limits, challenge your mindset, and see how far you can go. And every 24 hours, when the cycle starts again, it’s your mission to race to build a stronger, wiser and crazier you.

And who knows, perhaps one day, you and I will just be casually sipping tea in our dream home, laughing at how the milk is still being spilt but knowing, proudly, fiercely, that we’ve come so far, even though there’s still more left to do, more to give and so much more to be.

Takeaway:

Quit quitting. You're, guaranteed, 20x stronger than you think. I doubted I could go through with the workout, it seemed beyond my present physical capabilities. But I did, because I treated it as life or death. Understand this, the second you start making excuses, for being depressed, for taking an unnecessary day off - you give away your power. You are a very powerful being. You're limitless, capable of everything.

I'm not throwing these words around to make you feel cute, I actually mean AND believe them. There’s so much that's been done already— the iconic four minute mile by Roger Bannister, invention of the light bulb, cars, toothpaste and other junk, people who lost both legs and climbed Mt. Everest, we sent a man to moon in frickin’ 1969 (50 YEARS ago), some ran a 26 mile marathon with zero training, love and hope is still strong in this world, oh let's also add coffee and motivational music— and YOU think you can't finish a workout or get outta depression or meet your idols or marry the man of your dreams or become the artist you wanna be? Ridiculous. Don't give away your power that easily, this ain't no charity shop.

(play ♬) Having personally dealt with unwelcome yet familiar feelings of emptiness quite often, I’ve now reached a point where each bad day is simply a reminder of how long my journey ahead is, and just how badly I want to reach my destination.

We finally near the end of this novel of a post (thanks for sticking around, bud), and my best advice would be this: Rather than wallowing in self pity and throwing one-man parties because your life is so awfully dreadful, know that even when life throws you to the floor, long as you can look up, long as you can read an entire book about defeating depression (cough)– you can GET UP too. Let those emotions of sorrow and frustration blaze up into a roaring, crackling fire that doesn’t consume you, but instead, urges you, fuels you.

Lately, no matter how much shit I go through, how many arguments I tumble into, or how barren my dreams look sometimes, I don’t break down. And no, it wasn't always like this. I never even had aspirations to name two years ago. Six months back, it had become a night routine to cry. Not anymore.

Now, every setback and every failure only pushes me to be stronger and give more than I ever gave. The day I made the decision to Conquer (truly, madly, deeply, with all of my heart) was also the day I said a big, loud ‘fuck you’ to every resistance that was to cross my path. I had finally understood that life was nothing but a battle of WILLS, that it was all in or nothing, and I made up my mind once and for all to NEVER give in to depression, or to society, or to anyone who tells me I cannot make it.

I had conquered depression. There was no looking back now.

Takeaway:

Here’s something no one will tell you: the key to bringing depression to its knees is seeing it positively. Pretend that it's a friend continuously sending strong, aggressive signals urging you to be happy. And what do you do when a caring friend throws some holy light? You listen, push past your ego, and follow accordingly.

And if that parallel seems unconvincing, here's another one (sup, DJ Khaled. This post is turning musical, sorry): it's scared of you. Depression is scared shit of you. Y'know how bullies are, right? Majorly insecure, self-loathing too perhaps, hardly fans of self love, and always trying to numb all that subconscious pain by inflicting pain on others. Depression has the same instruction manual. Your fears and doubts are your (pathetic) bullies, and depression is the big ol’ crony who does the dirty work for 'em.

Whenever you decide shit this is it, I'm going for it, they go paranoid and try stopping you because they've seen no better. And if they succeed, BOOM, you're depressed, paralyzed, your qualms reigning over you again. Don't let them in. I'll say it a thousand times if I gotta because I want (HAVE) to see you conquer – you're so much stronger than you think you are. You can do so much more than you think. It's all in your head! Don't just sit there, click away, and go back to living a sad life. You’re better than that. DO better than that. You’re meant to freaking CONQUER, straight-up dominate, my pal. Pay heed to that voice craving freedom. You got this. And you better know it.

One thing’s fixed like the (beloved by all) proportionality constants in Physics, you will come across depressing mornings and sluggish evenings even in the future. I assure you. Lots o’ bad hair days in the calendar, sis. But here's what you’ll do: you'll deactivate the miserable thoughts, keep a cool head, remind yourself that this is yet another test (better, rap your new mantra) and USE that hurt, pain, and anger to create a fervor and passion that wreaks havoc on its obstacles and drives you to accomplish EVERYTHING you've ever wanted to do. The easy choice would be to just give up, bellyache about the situation, and want sympathy for your worries. Yet, what you'll never do is… exactly that.

Rule 1) NEVER give up. Stand your ground. Have faith in your strength. Know that you'll have your way soon enough anyway. Rule 2) NEVER complain. All it does is drain your energy, that precious fire you could to high jump your way into the clouds. Makes you a pathetic wimp too, definitely not something you want on a warrior’s resume. Lastly, Rule 3) NEVER seek validation. From anyone. It sure feels nice to be acknowledged and encouraged, but grasp this— this is your journey. YOUR life and YOUR vision. Validation won't get you anywhere, for there'll never be enough of it.

Cuz Marty, if you're tryna bring something new, different, and authentic into this world – you'll most likely be hated on badly, before you'll be loved madly (hi, me a rapper). Learn to invite hate instead—IMPORTANT: hate from others, not yourself. Sounds counterintuitive, but this is the real tea: hate is good. It means you're standing up for something, refusing to fit like a puzzle piece in society, and being UNAPOLOGETICALLY yourself. And it’s certainly a sign that you’re on the right path if you can ignore that hate and stick your tongue out at it.

Yet another reason to never seek validation is simply this: you have to fight for yourself. In order to meet your own expectations, reach the doorstep of the best version of you, and transform this world, you'll have to go wildly IN. Toil and hammer away. Shut out all the haters and non-believers, listening only to your gut. Importantly, learn to accept the rejection slips, validating yourself not with what Molly says about it being okay, but with the reminder that your time is coming soon. Depend on yourself. Validation will NEVER be enough.

I get it, it's a lot of homework, but perhaps you already realize that it’s THIS work that'll change your life forever. Not “how to not procrastinate, Jesus take the wheel” or “HELLO, life's a mess so here are ten things to do (you won't believe number four!)”. Clickbaits don't work, stop believing that a fancy planner is going to be your savior. There is no rule to making your life a masterpiece. You'll have to get to know yourself and your dreams (journaling, meditation, silent pondering), build the work ethics and the mentality needed (lots of work in this one, yet no strict framework to go about it) and GET GOING.

AND with that firework, I'll begin to slip away now. Again, I won’t say it’s easy, that’s cock and bull. Life’s no fairytale. You will never feel ready to start bringing your dreams to fruition. But, my darling (I’m being so nice yo, follow me), you must. You must force yourself to work for the future you want till it becomes a habit, an obsession. The world badly needs heroes; confident people who can stand for themselves so that others can stare at first, maybe even hate a little, but then follow because they seem unstoppable and are, truthfully, having the most fun at life. YOU'RE one of them. No validation, just plain facts.

You see, conquering is a LOT of blood and sweat (K-pop, anyone? BTS? Lmao, this is me tryna clickbait y'all to read). Even getting up will seem huge when you're just starting out, and this is one long road, dear pal. Still then, I have enough faith in you to hope you don't give into your fears, I hope you willingly chase discomfort, and I hope you find the courage to do all that you want to do, while that heart's still beating.

I hope you conquer. I'll do too, and I'd really like to see some familiar faces during the ride.

Peace, amigo.

A loud ass A/N: And now, we come the most important part of this post. WAKE UP Luke, stop snoring, and take some notes. Remember kids, I won't accept anything but an A.

If you couldn’t identify yourself throughout this post and currently are scoffing like um woman, that's not really why I'm depressed, hang in there a sec. Yes, you can stop singing It Ain’t Me now. You've a very nice voice by the way.

I'm not a doctor, and I don't have enough exposure to know why so many earthlings are depressed today. HOWEVER, by talking to many, following their stories, watching and reading stuff – I do know with firm conviction that a majority suffers from severe unfulfillment. Don't believe me? A study shows 85% of the working class worldwide hate their jobs. Do you realize what that actually means? EIGHTY-FIVE PERCENT of the THREE BILLION PEOPLE employed today, hate being employed in the first place! They do it for prime survival, to sustain themselves. And that's just jobs. I won't scare you, but 50% (yes, HALF, you heard that right) of students HATE going to school. Kids waste SEVEN hours of their life every day going somewhere they dislike, doing something they hate. Who's singing now?

People find themselves trapped in golden handcuffs, taking the paycheck despite the passionless job. They push aside the art and business they love, to become a slave of good ol’ cash. Several surround themselves with negativity and get frustrated when unable to escape the choking (no, not THAT kind again, hello someone pour holy water over this post) atmosphere. An innumerable are forced into taking up courses that they don't care about under parental pressure. The reasons are endless, and I don't think I'll amuse myself listing all the sad excuses.

This has always been the story. Hundreds of influencers have preached the same words I’m tryna put into your head here and you’ll yourself say you’ve heard this a million times. YET, you’re dissatisfied. YET, you feel like crap everyday, feeding yourself the same lie that the next day will be better, that you’ll get up tomorrow– while you let life beat the shit out of you.

That’s why, all of my words, everything you’ve read today - all of that boils down to just one single question. A difficult but necessary choice. Will you let this happen to YOU? Will you, seriously, even after this wild ride together, go back to doing nothing and being nothing? Will you, for real, continue deceiving yourself, sacrifice your happiness for the sake of pleasing everyone else, and remain a statistic on a website?

(play ♬) If you’re not sure of your answer, read: Look, making you feel guilty is not my intention, because that’s not how this works. I need you to understand instead. Guilt wears off, it’s only understanding that brings about change. So, just for old times’ sake, I’ll rant a bit more (ik, just can’t seem to leave y’all).

You’re so, so young right now. More than half of your life is yet to be experienced. None of this probably makes much impact right now but it will the day you die. Remember, on your deathbed, you won't EVER look back and say, “Damn, wish I'd spent more time at the office. Saved up just one more dollar. Could’ve got that promotion before Amy.” Nay, it won’t even be on the calendar. That day, one foot in the grave, you'll reflect and wonder why the heck you didn’t let yourself be happier. Why you took up that lacklustre, soul-sucking architect job when all you've ever wanted to do is keep laughing. Why you didn't ask your crush out, why you were so afraid to walk up to that audition, because dammit, you could’ve been running your own comedy show by now. Why you dragged around a karaoke machine all this time instead of singing your own song. Why you couldn’t love yourself. Why you submitted. Why.

And the moment you realize that you hadn't lived a life for you, you’ll be crushed. Broken. The arthritis in your grannie joints won't even compare and neither will the mild dissatisfaction you’re feeling right now. Those whys will haunt you, they'll terrorize you, break you. It'll hurt tremendously to know that there isn't a single thing in your long life that you could call completely your own.

With every death today so many dreams are left unachieved, crazy things left unchecked on the bucket list, and unique potential left unexpressed.

DON'T let that be you. Please. I'm still a mess myself, struggling to reach class on time and studying subjects that aren't exactly fun, when all I want to do is create content (read: fireworks) that is at a level of insanity, influence folks to do better, hold crazy world tours and meet-and-greets to give hugs, and get an adorable puppy so I can create a dogstagram (yes, I'm that mom). Sure, I could declare it's too hard, hang onto small-minded and negative people who whine endlessly, and follow the crowd, getting lost in it, with ease.

But I won’t because I can’t take the burden of those regrets. That painful unrest and discontent that nothing could cure, not drugs, alcohol, buddies, not even true love. For then I’d be just another drone, my controller in the hands of society, forcing me to see the world through its eyes. I can’t give in because I’m scared, terrified even, of wasting away this one life doing the bidding of others- folks who won't even notice when I’m gone.

It’s easy to be depressed and crib your entire life. It’s easy to think you’re worthless and that trying is pointless since nothing ever goes your way.

But perhaps, if you rise, if you simply DECIDE to have the audacity to fight for what you believe in, if you work and focus on becoming better, things will go your way. Life will bend to you, in awe, at your incredible relentlessness. Life will take one look at you, wonder who the fuck is this person? How the fuck are they so incapable of giving up? And back right away. And then perhaps, life will be such a blast for you that depression would become the past you never had.

I know you can get there, conqueror. It’s time you knew it too.

🌚🌝 Further reading? 🌝🌚

Last Post :— How To Get Back Into The Creative Process – For you, if you're in a creative rut. Get outta it and go create magic!

5 Reasons Why You're Unhappy — To help you identify & cut out CURRENT sources of sadness so that you can spice up yo’ life with some happiness instead. Definitely recommend reading AND implementing.

The Bubble Trap & How To Get Out Of It — One of my classics. Everyone is in one of these 'bubbles’ till they consciously do something about it; that's just how it is. Are you still in one? (Someone teach me marketing, lmao.)

The 5 Biggest Regrets of The Dying (from Greatist) — I LOVED reading this. Pretty much all you need to cut the crap and do meaningful stuff. Read it, memorize it, work it.

++ Want to request a blog post? Leave your request in my ask box! I'll get back to you with a reply, along with the average time I'll need to birth that magical idea.

Thanks for dropping by! It was a pleasure to have you around. If you wish to stick for a bit, I'd suggest picking one of the related posts mentioned above.

If you wanna check out my blog, here's a little something about me (y'all know I love the attention). What do I write about? Three arenas I dominate, Work, Lifestyle and Life, they are, my mate! Take your pick!

I post new blog posts bi-weekly, and my wins, & journal entries throughout the week, so follow me if you're into conquering life, leaving a legacy and being the baddest badass you can possibly be. I'll be your side pal, cheering you along.✨

And that was it, it's a wrap! Martha, shut the cams, Henry, pause the audio, and Nandita, I know you're pretending to be deaf, but Mom's yelling something about doing the dishes. Better skip along.

And you, fellow conqueror? Keep slaying life, doing the work and making it count. I hope you're well, stay strong and go conquer life. ✧

I'm sending you so much love, see you soon.

— Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

798 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 6 years ago

Note

I really want to drown you in Marvel prompts now xD But I'll try to be nice. How about WinterIronPanther and their punk kids? Maybe Steve walking in and being like "Bucky??? Bu you don't have a kid? Tony has Pete, and T'Challa has Shuri but you don't--" And Bucky just looks at him. Long and hard, waiting for him to realize.

It all started two years ago, when SHIELD fell. When Steve, Natasha and Sam came to Tony, not knowing where else to go. When Steve told Tony about the death of his parents. When the team actually started to grow together, knowing they could only rely on each other.

And then Zemo came along and tried to tear the Avengers apart. Only that that didn’t work. They had been a team for years now, they trusted each other, Tony and Steve led the Avengers together, as a united front. Together, they signed the Accords, with the right reserved to make amendments – because Steve knew they were flawed and so did Tony, but Tony had the lawyers to work on them and Steve knew that and trusted Tony on that. Granted, Zemo framing Bucky tore the Avengers temporarily apart because Steve was blinded and refused to even consider that Bucky might not be innocent – and in the end, he was right and after Tony learned the truth, him and his half of the team joined Steve in Siberia. Zemo’s endgame was to shock Tony by showing him the video of how the Winter Soldier had killed the Starks. Tony knew about that though. He had known that for years and while it hurt to actually see it, he knew that it hadn’t been Bucky Barnes who had killed them and he had come to terms with that. So, instead of playing into Zemo’s hands, Tony, Steve and Bucky went and pummeled Zemo before arresting him.

“Barnes isn’t safe in the US right now”, stated Tony seriously.

T'Challa had his arms crossed over his chest. “I owe him, for trying to take his life in a fit of rage when I thought he had killed my father. I will take him to Wakanda, he will be safe there.”

“Thank you, your highness”, whispered Steve, looking torn.

“Oh, stop it with the sad puppy-dog eyes, Rogers”, grunted Tony and rolled his eyes. “He’ll be safe there, that’s the important thing for now, while my lawyers get onto clearing his name.”

T'Challa looked bemused by the exchange. Over the past few days, he had seen the ups and downs of their dynamic. Steve and Tony bickered like brothers and even when it had gotten physical in Germany, they had been pulling their punches, not wanting to hurt their own team. Now that the truth was out, that the tension about Barnes was resolved, things seemed to be going back to what was considered normal to the Avengers. T'Challa, he was a good man, so he was going to repay his debt to Sargent Barnes. He was going to keep him safe in Wakanda and put his sister onto seeing if she could remove the Winter Soldier programming.

/break\

It was rough, adjusting again after what had happened in Germany. It had not been intentional, what had happened to Rhodey, and Sam was feeling the most guilty about it. Rhodey was still recovering. Wanda had been sent away. Even though Steve had been all for protecting her at first, only seeing her as a child – after he saw the physical evidence of what Wanda had done to Vision over being kept on house-arrest, after Sam sat him down and talked to Steve about it, he saw reason.

She had always been a threat. Not just in Johannesburg, before that. She had willingly joined Hydra, of all people, and allied herself with Ultron until it became inconvenient for her. A part of Steve wanted to see her as an innocent child and had refused the facts. But to see the reminders of the past and to see that she was still out of control… they had sent her away. Professor Charles Xavier owned a school for children with superpowers, where she would not be able to harm others and might learn to properly control herself. Because just sending her to prison was not going to do anything good; at the forefront needed to stand her learning to control herself.

Much had happened in the past months. They were busy adjusting the Accords and they were busy trying to free Bucky of all charges, considering the brainwashing. All the while, Steve played the moping puppy-dog about Bucky being literally on ice in Wakanda.

Tony worked with T'Challa’s sister on restoring Bucky though; BARF proved to be a good foundation for Shuri to build on to remove the Winter Soldier programming, apparently, and with it removed, Barnes got out of cold storage and into some solid therapy.

The Avengers became regular guests in Wakanda after that. After all, Wakanda opened its borders and as a sign of good faith T'Challa had joined the Avengers – on a strict emergencies only base. He was still the king, after all. But he wished for the Avengers to know that if aliens attacked again, they could call Wakanda for backup.

Things… developed, albeit Tony was not entirely sure how. There was a charming, handsome king on one side and an adorable goat-herding former assassin on the other… and Tony in the middle.

Tony and T'Challa had corresponded with each other a lot since Siberia, mostly Tony passing on notes to the princess, or them talking about the Accords and about T'Challa’s specific conditions to joining the Avengers. Steve was… too busy chatting with Bucky to really pay attention, every time it came to Wakanda, or more specifically every time they came to Wakanda. Tony was easily charmed by the king and brilliant king. And it wasn’t like Tony didn’t get to spend his fair share with Barnes too – helping the princess with the adjusted and modified BARF program.

Turned out that in the meantime, the goat-herding former assassin and the charming, handsome king had grown close too, during Bucky’s stay near the palace, his regular visits at Shuri’s.

It started one night, three months into Bucky’s stay in Wakanda, when the Avengers as a whole had come to Wakanda to celebrate together. Celebrate Bucky’s recovery – the last of the triggers had been successfully removed and he was overall doing so much better now. So they threw a party. There was booze, music, dancing, food, laughter. It had been a really fun night.

The morning after however was rather interesting, because Tony didn’t wake up in the guest-room T'Challa had given him. He woke up in an even more luxurious room, a large bed with purple silken sheets… and two handsome, naked men next to him on either side. T'Challa was on his back, one arm on his stomach, the other spread out next to himself. Bucky was curled together and wide-awake, staring over at T'Challa and Tony with curious and calculating eyes.

“Good morning Buckaroo”, drawled Tony slowly, grinning amused.

He turned to face Bucky with a broad grin. Unexpectedly so, he had grown very fond of Bucky. Once the man had recovered enough to be himself, not that empty shell and weapon anymore. Bucky offered one of those charming, sweet, soft little smiles and tilted his head.

“You seem in a good mood. That’s good. I was not sure…”, started Bucky.

“I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol last night, Buckster”, assured Tony, one eyebrow raised.

“But you were all…”, drawled Bucky, motioning awkwardly.

“That is simply Tony’s… personality”, offered T'Challa from the other side, quite amused. “He has taught me that you do need a good sense of humor to deal with politicians on a long run.”

“It keeps boring events fun”, chimed Tony delighted.

“So we were all very sober when all of this happened?”, asked Bucky, looking at the other two.

“I have learned not to drink while my sister is armed with a camera”, replied T'Challa dryly. “And now that, thanks to Tony, she has back-up… I am not risking that.”

Tony laughed delighted at that before leaning over to kiss Bucky briefly. “Don’t look like a startled deer, Buck. We have been flirting for weeks now, haven’t we? I figured we were all so… well-spirited last night, it just all came to the logical next step. Right, kitty-cat?”

“Absolutely. Though the nicknames already make me regret everything”, chuckled T'Challa.

“Aw, you don’t mean that, Simba”, gasped Tony, dramatically touching his arc-reactor.

T'Challa rolled his eyes fondly and wrapped an arm around Tony to pull him into a kiss. “Indeed.”

Tony smirked into the kiss before getting up and startling the other two men. “Well, I for one am absolutely famished. Your enhanced super stamina completely knocked me out. Feed a guy after you fuck him, will you? Or are you just going to stay in bed, staring at me?”

“I mean, I could do that”, nodded Bucky and turned to T'Challa. “You?”

“Most definitely”, agreed T'Challa with a delightful grin, wrapping an arm around Bucky.

Bucky looked pleased as he snuggled against T'Challa. The two looked gorgeous together. Tony felt rather good knowing those were his now. Wiggling his ass, Tony went to T'Challa’s closet to get dressed, throwing clothes at both Bucky and T'Challa too.

“Very well, let me feed the both of you”, sighed T'Challa and unwillingly got out of bed.

“My, our king has manners”, chimed Tony.

T'Challa pulled him into a brief kiss before getting dressed himself. “You too, James.”

Bucky made a displeased sound, but he obeyed. He was still getting used to his new arm – including actual feelings – that Tony had made him. It had been their greatest source of… bonding. Bucky had spent hours in the workshop with Tony calibrating the arm. They had quipped and talked, gotten to know each other. Tony was nothing like Howard, which, apparently was the greatest compliment Bucky could have given Tony.

“What… do we tell others?”, asked Bucky slowly when they exited the king’s quarters.

A couple of Dora Milaje stood in front of it. They acted stoic and didn’t react to the three exiting, but they still very well saw them. T'Challa greeted them before taking Bucky’s flesh-hand in his own and reaching for Tony with his other hand.

“What would you be comfortable telling them, James?”, asked T'Challa gently.

“I…”, started Bucky with a frown. “You’re the king. And this is the Tony Stark.”

“Heh, I like that”, laughed Tony amused. “I mean, we would certainly be quite the scandal couple. But the thing about Wakanda is that while its borders are open, paparazzi haven’t been stupid enough to try anything. They are way too afraid of the Dora Milaje. So, no one’s saying we gotta make a public engagement announcement, Bucky-Bear.”

“What Tony is saying is that we do not have to tell anyone, albeit I suspect most of the Avengers have been onto us for weeks”, offered T'Challa.

“Yeah, Nat knows. Nat knows everything. Rhodey knows, because I told him – hey, a guy’s gotta whine about the two hot guys tempting him”, argued Tony.

“Stevie knows about… uh, my feelings”, tagged Bucky on.

“So, basically, the only Avengers who don’t know are… Clint, Peter and maybe Sam, though Sam is a bright guy and I suspect he has figured it out too”, mused Tony.

“Might as well tell them”, sighed Bucky with a defeated nod. “If there is something to tell.”

“Well, I’m too old for this whole one-night-stand nonsense”, chimed Tony lightly. “And I think we should see where this could be going, mh?”

“We could. We should”, agreed T'Challa with a light smile.

The three of them entered the private kitchen of the royal family together. It was usually where the Avengers ate whenever they stayed over in Wakanda. And while not all Avengers were present, at least some had already found their way here. Steve and Sam were leaning against the counter, discussing something over coffee, while the teenagers were sitting at the table eating pancakes. Shuri, Peter and Ned Leeds – who was not actually an Avenger, but Peter’s best friend and also in on Peter’s secret identity. So while not a regular to go with them, since this was a larger outing of the Avengers, they had invited Peter’s best friend along too. Ned had been over the moon.

“Ah, look at our kids bickering”, chuckled Tony fondly. “It’s hard, raising a teen, isn’t it?”

Peter perked up and smiled at Tony, handing him a coffee. “Good morning, Mister St—Tony.”

“Good boy, he’s learning”, laughed Tony. “Thank you, Peter.”

“Yours at least adore you”, grunted T'Challa with a frown.

“Mister Stark is the best!”, exclaimed Ned enthusiastically.

“You’re just saying that because you’re still trying to butter me up to build an actual Death Star for you”, countered Tony amused and sat down with the teenagers.

“Look at them”, huffed T'Challa, staring at his sister. “How nice they are to Tony.”

“They do not have to live with Tony 24/7”, countered Shuri. “No offense, Tin Man.”

“No, that’s a fair enough argument”, chuckled Tony.

Bucky got them plates with pancakes and sat down next to Tony. “Have you considered how much you stress your brother by living with him 24/7, princess?”

“Oi, what are you accusing me of there, White Wolf?”, asked Shuri offended.

“You’re a little punk. With all due respect”, chuckled Bucky.

“I mean, Petey’s too!”, argued Tony, pointing at Peter.

Peter looked at him like a kicked puppy at this. “Mister Stark-”

“Going after the Vulture all on your own, without the suit or backup, you took ten years off my life!”, exclaimed Tony, running his fingers through his hair. “I had to dye to cover the gray!”

“Mister Sta—ark”, whined Peter, hanging his head low.

“I’m sure Shuri has taken far more years off my life by now”, stated T'Challa dryly.

“Oh, is this a competition now?”, wanted Tony to know, raising one eyebrow.

“You’re both gonna lose if we’re starting a competition about a punk-ass kid who took years off your life”, declared Bucky dead seriously, stirring his coffee.

“Buck? You don’t have a kid”, interjected Steve confused as him and Sam finally joined the table.

The kitchen fell very quiet. Ned and Peter exchanged a pointed look, while the adults all stared at Steve like he had grown a second head. Sam heaved a deep sigh and patted Steve’s back.

“You, you big, blonde oaf”, stated Sam pointedly. “He’s talking about you.”

“What-”, asked Steve surprised, looking around.

“Captain Rogers, sir, we literally learn about that in our history classes”, pointed Peter out.

“Yeah! The adventurous pre-serum times! How you used to be a stick and still chased bullies and had Bucky clean it all up afterward”, agreed Ned, nodding wildly.

“Wait. Why are you learning that in your history class?”, asked Steve flustered.

“It’s the great origin story of the righteous Captain America”, chuckled Tony amused. “Always fighting for the little guy, even when you were a little guy yourself. And judging from everything Buck’s been telling me in the past weeks, the history books were very generous on it all.”

“Punk’s got into a different fight every single week. Sometimes an asthma attack took him out before the bullies could”, grunted Bucky with a deadpan expression. “The number of times I nearly had a heart-attack because of you, Stevie-”

“Oh, come on, Bucky, I never-”, argued Steve.

“You literally signed up for a quite shady secret government program that injected you with an untested drug, all of this without telling Bucky”, pointed Peter out. “…Captain Rogers, sir.”

“Traitor”, muttered Steve beneath his breath, cheeks red.

“There, Parker. You and me aren’t the worst”, declared Shuri pleased.

“Yay to that!”, agreed Peter, high-fiving with Shuri.

Steve sulked and sank deeper in his chair. Sam chuckled and shook his head as he pushed some pancakes down toward Steve, who while still sulking started eating. Tony smiled bemused, resting his chin on his hand and staring at Bucky fondly, who looked rather pleased with himself.

“So, the three of you finally… did something about that cut-able tension?”, asked Sam.

“Yes, we did”, confirmed Bucky and cleared his throat.

“I told you, brother. Modern times. Polyamorous long-distance relationships can work”, declared Shuri pleased, nodding slowly. “You just gotta make them work. And use your words.”

“Yes, yes, if I had listened to you, I could have already wined and dined them both for weeks”, sighed T'Challa with a roll of his eyes. “Alas, it all worked out perfectly well.”

He gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze, earning a nearly shy smile from Bucky. Tony bit his lips at how adorable that was and he leaned in to kiss Bucky’s cheek on impulse.

“So, wait, are we related then?”, asked Peter thoughtfully. “Since my superhero-dad and your brother are together, are we then like in-laws or something?”

“We’re not married and I never adopted you. You need to stop making people believe I’m your father, Peter”, grunted Tony pointedly and a little flustered. “I have had to come to a board-meeting concerning your parentage and who I paid off to keep it quiet, kiddo.”

Peter looked the opposite of apologetic. Bucky grunted amused and shook his head.

“You’d think he’s Stevie’s apprentice”, muttered Bucky beneath his breath.

“Thank you, Sargent”, chimed Peter.

“That was not a compliment, kiddo”, snorted Sam amused.

“Depends on how you interpret it”, countered Peter with an innocent smile.

“You are all menaces in one way or another”, stated T'Challa seriously.

He pointed at Shuri, Peter and Steve equally. Tony laughed and leaned back in his chair.

/break\

“We’ll make this work somehow, even when you leave for New York again, Tony.”

The three of them had decided to take a walk through the palace’s garden together after breakfast – mainly to get away from the team’s teasing. They had come to sit down at a pond together, Tony in the middle, resting a hand on Bucky’s thigh and having one arm around T'Challa’s waist.

“Top notch technology will make it so you won’t even miss me”, assured Tony amused. “Besides, for now I’ll be here for two weeks, so let us make the best of that first, mh?”

“Oh, I believe my mother and sister have already planned at least half a dozen dates for us”, sighed T'Challa a little embarrassed. “They have been trying to be… useful.”

“That’s adorable”, grinned Tony and leaned in to kiss T'Challa’s cheek.

The king looked flustered at that, though also a little pleased. “But you are, of course, right. With Wakandan technology, we can see each other every day despite any distance and you are always welcomed here, Tony. I have a room in the palace for you.”

“I preferred your room, Bagheera”, grinned Tony and kissed him. “What do you say, Buckster?”

“I liked your room too, T'Challa”, agreed Bucky with a grin.

T'Challa laughed, eyes sparkling as he leaned back and looked at his new lovers. “Perfect, then.”

Read this here on FFNet & here on AO3!

#WinterIronPanther #or whatever their shipname would be??#Fanfiction #Marvel #Fluff #kimmycup

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