#And yes if its not clear I kind of think about things in terms of computer stuff a lot I amvery dum u see.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sideprince · 2 days ago

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Thank you! Thank you for bringing up a really interesting point and idea, and thank you for reading my reblog and giving it both thought and a respectful reply. This is literally all I was trying to get at.

Re: bravery - I agree, it's a spectrum, though I have a different perspective on what that looks like. I don't think there's a need to qualify bravery as good or bad, better or worse, as OP did. Like you said, different situations and factors matter. But I disagree that raising a child is merely hard and therefore doesn't require bravery, and instead think that it requires a different kind of bravery than, say, what Harry or Snape faced. The stakes are lower when it comes to being in immediate danger or the number of people an individual's actions will affect, but there's also a long-term commitment that requires a lot of emotional and physical work and dedication and compensating for an irreplaceable loss (and we see that both Harry and Neville, despite their wildly different support systems and degree of love given as children, both bear the scars of growing up without their parents).

To draw a parallel, I have chronic illness, and people sometimes say "oh you're so brave, going through all that" and I think, "no I'm not, it's just hard." A friend of mine has a similar illness. When they contracted the condition that caused it, they knew what they were facing - a long, hard road full of pain, anxiety, and difficulty. But they didn't cry or fall apart, they faced it with grace and, frankly, bravery. I don't know if I see that in myself, but I know that this is hard, and they knew exactly what they had no choice but to go through, and still faced it. They were facing difficulty, but not imminent danger, but nevertheless I can't imagine describing their attitude without the word "brave." Similarly, choosing to raise a child alone isn't just hard, it requires the kind of bravery that knowingly walking into long-term hardship with your head held high requires. I think the second we choose to focus on qualifying bravery instead of examining it in its own context, we diminish that which falls on the lower end of the spectrum, and do so needlessly. Again, I think it's possible to appreciate one thing without diminishing another. Regulus was brave in a way Snape or Harry never had to be, because their situations were different; was the outcome more or less helpful or impactful? Are we looking at it through the lens of lives saved or which character had to push through more personal fear or who suffered more or less and what do we mean by suffering ie. physical or emotional or are we looking at it from the perspective of who was alone and who had support or who had more or less to lose or... etc. That's how I see the spectrum, but not as one where it's possible to assign more or less objective value to someone's bravery, because there are inevitably multiple subjective angles to view it from.

Re: relativism - I wasn't clear with my meaning, and that's on me. When I said "It's not possible to truly value a character or the merit of their actions if it's in the context of relativism," what I meant was that there's no value in appreciating the actions, in this case bravery, of one character, if doing so is for the sake of diminishing another. Ie. it's not doing a character like Regulus any favors to discuss his bravery, if it's only for the sake of the argument that as a result, Snape's bravery was peanuts. Since OP was discussing characters and their value, I was addressing this perspective specifically - that I don't think you can value a character's traits or actions if it's not for their own sake, but for the sake of diminishing another character's. But in terms of the relativism you're discussing, ie. that bravery is a spectrum, yes I agree but (see above lol).

Re: arguing - I love a good debate as much as the next person (just ask @pet-genius), and I feel like that's what's happening here and what you're talking about. That's not the same as arguing, in my opinion. A debate is an exchange of ideas, and sure it can get heated if we're passionate about those ideas, but ultimately it's fueled by curiosity and focused on exploring perspectives, outcomes, etc. An argument, on the other hand, is about asserting that one perspective is correct and another isn't. It has no curiosity, and is more about digging heels in, proving a point, and feeling like one side is right and the other is wrong. A debate involves listening; an argument refuses to.

What OP did was deliberately start an argument - whether or not that was their actual intention, their language and tone conveyed that it was. Their assertion was phrased as deliberately incendiary and I can literally pinpoint where in your response you get agitated, angry, and frustrated, and you even address them directly and insult their intelligence, making it personal. I'm not trying to point a finger, don't get me wrong! I understand having that response. I'm just trying to explain why I said what I did in my reblog. OP put out the bait and it looks like you took it and got angry, and although most of your response is engaging in debate, parts of it reflect anger and a personal beef, culminating in finger pointing ("you people") and placing yourself on the opposite side in an argumentative way, instead of concluding the points you were making the paragraphs that focused more on a debate based approach.

Can you honestly say that the anger and frustration that went into that response didn't affect you? Like I said, I love a good debate, and there would be plenty of room for one if OP had simply chosen to end their post after their point about Narcissa. But the moment they made it about saying, "but sure... Snape is bravest Slytherin ever" they picked a fight unnecessarily. They could have phrased it as a contrast to what Snape faced and what choices he made, but instead they chose to qualify and devalue his character in a way that was both needless and incendiary. Can you honestly tell me you enjoy that kind of argument and don't walk away from it frustrated and seething? Would you rather spend time in fandom shouting about whose blorbo is "better" by whatever arbitrary standard each side comes up with to prove they're right and the other side is wrong, or would you rather have a debate about the meaning and impact of bravery and how various characters are affected by it? Would you rather argue and feel frustrated that someone's being a jerk, or debate and feel heard and hear others and respectfully disagree at worst?

Regulus ‘Sacrificed my life so that one day the dark lord may be weakened enough to be defeated’ black

Andromeda ‘Defied my family to marry the love of my life and had a daughter, resulting in both of them dying in the war, only for me to step up and look after my grandson’ tonks

Narcissa ‘Lied to the most dangerous man’s face just to protect my son, leading to the death of said dangerous man’ Malfoy

But sure..

Severus ‘bullied a kid because he has the girl who never loved me’s eyes’ Snape

is the bravest slytherin ever

#look my intention wasn't to scold and yes I absolutely block tags #and I don't think we follow each other so there's no reason for you to know this but I've posted before about how frustrating it is #that no matter how much you block anti tags and cull your feed it's inescapable on a daily basis #that the posts are constant. they are constant. where people argue about who's right and which characters are valid and which aren't #I literally can't curate my feed any more than I already do and I still scroll past half of it because it's just people getting pulled into #arguments with antis #meanwhile OP deleted the original post so they've thrown a grenade into the Snapedom and then run off #but yeah I wasn't intending to scold just to ask people to question their motives and choices and give it some thought #because tbh it's not healthy behavior to spend so much time in fandom arguing with people who enjoy getting a rise out of others #and it's also not health behavior to spend so much time in fandom enjoying getting a rise out of others #according to OP's profile they're also 15 and tbh I'm not judging them for being childish because they're a literal child but also #having your behavior reflected back to you and being asked to think are both ultimately positive outcomes of being in fandom traditionally?#as long as it's done in constructive and respectful ways #maybe they tagged the post with Snape and didn't realize what the culture of tagging posts as anti is and this is how they learned #who knows #on the one hand at least I didn't tell a 15 year old to stop embarrassing themselves and call them delusional in the tags #on the other hand I don't think we should be expected to look up the accounts of every person who posts on this hellsite #so there was no reason for you to know that OP was so young and probably hadn't yet explored the concept of bravery thoughtfully #what I do know is that when I give every user the benefit of the doubt and treat them with respect despite their attitude I'm also #respecting the fact that I don't know what someone else's baggage or pain or life situation is but I'm allowing them space for it anyway #just in case it's there #which tbh I do most often by just scrolling past

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t-a-a-1 · 3 months ago

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Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying.

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant.

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t.

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was the third bot you asked about going out.

“What if we crash and you get hurt?”

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction.

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.”

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances.

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy.

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you.

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you.

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy.

“Only for 30 minutes.”

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way.

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them.

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist.

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend.

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him.

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent.

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito.

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit.

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent.

Until you showed up.

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face.

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around.

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark.

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt. But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago.

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets.

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him. “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him.

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood.

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it.

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city. “Thank you!

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor.

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box.

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions.

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas.

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you. Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar.

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.”

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you.

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to. His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent.

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus.

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience.

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast.

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

You started to overthink. A lot.

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure.

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay.

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind.

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do.

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act.

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly.

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room.

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there.

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night.

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it.

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling.

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing.

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him.

You didn’t want him.

His servos tremble.

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you.

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything.

Everything … His everything is gone.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning.

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could be here with you along with your unborn child.

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh.

You were right. You do need the sun.

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air.

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle.

He looks at you and then down at his little project.

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different.

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask.

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips.

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water.

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand.

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same.

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could.

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs.

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be.

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers.

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence.

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself.

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources.

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared.

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet.

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long. “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow.

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it.

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries.

“Wait,” he answers.

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down.

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide.

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper.

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration.

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you.

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared.

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion.

“I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love.

But he can’t. Not now.

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.”

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe.

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/776307342250803200/counting-stars?source=share

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once-a-traya · 2 months ago

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i've been thinking a lot about the way kingdom come: deliverance ii structures its romances. it's interesting, in the sense that they all feel bespoke - short fling or long term or in-between, there's no hard and fast system that applies to all characters. most games with romances stick to a rhythm: you have the initial flirtation options, then there's a companion quest (or multiple companion quests), then you are 'locked in', and finally you get a scene at the end.

anyway, spoilers under the cut.

the romance with katherine is the closest to that model. which makes sense! she's a traumatized person who needs to be convinced henry is reliable, and she also doesn't know him, so the flirting is apt. it stretches across the entire game, because trust-building takes time and action (sidequests), and much like the romance with hans, a lot of the 'romance' moments hinge on non-romance moments you have with her throughout the story. romance in this game is part of a continuum of human interactions; it's something you can lean into if you want, not a reward toggle.

rosa's romance lasts while rosa is plot-relevant, and is contingent on you flirting with her and giving her the feeling that she and her capabilities are respected. you have to spend time with her and back her up, basically. then there's the various flings, which are all context-dependent. and theresa, which is technically a full-blown romance even if she's only on-screen for five seconds, because henry makes it a romance by bringing her up and speaking of their time together - in that version of the story, she's often on his mind. (but, like the other romances, you have to actively bring her up in the epilogue yourself; the game doesn't hand you "here's your reward romance content")

which leaves us with some interesting implications re: hans and henry. there are, as far as i've been able to find, five heart-icon dialogue interactions between them in the game, one of which is The Big Scene. none of the four romance dialogue options before that are flirty. the flirting happens outside of that, in all the non-romance sections, in ways that can be brushed off as bros-being-bros if you're into that. in fact i'd say most of the development that makes the romance possible happens in the non-romance sections.

the romance choices just let you lean in a little further.

the first romance dialogue comes at the midway point; it's hans apologizing for being a dick and henry can then respond to say it's fine, hans can always rely on him no matter how he behaves, he's the closest friend henry has. the second comes at maleshov, right after henry has staged an elaborate rescue for hans, and it's about henry reassuring a panicking hans that he will always be there for him and they can handle any situation together. the third romance dialogue comes halfway through the italian job and is missable - it's henry telling hans he's missed spending time with him, and repeating that when hans tries to joke it off as a 'yes we should go wenching again soon' kind of deal. finally, the fourth is shortly afterward, with henry worried about hans's claustrophobia, and stating, 'I care about you. maybe more than you know.'

hans brushes all of these things off, it seems like, but then by the Big Scene it's obvious he's been thinking about them a lot. and then hans is the one who makes a move, not henry (though you have to pick the option to trigger it). notably, even if you end the romance scene early by leaving or fumbling the moment, hans makes it clear he thought henry had feelings for him.

so if the difference between non-romanced and romanced katherine is flirting + her feeling she can trust and rely on henry, and the difference between non-romanced and romanced rosa is flirting + her feeling respected by henry, what's the difference between non-romanced and romanced hans? well. it's henry being earnest about his feelings, and going out of his way to make it clear that he cares about and values hans above everything else.

and that, maybe, in this time of extreme trial, he's safe to make this move on.

the extended implication of that is that hans had romantic feelings for henry all along, of some sort or another. he just doesn't address them in a non-romanced path because he doesn't feel confident to abandon plausible deniability and leave the safe, charged ambiguity between him and henry. not outwardly. possibly also not inwardly.

anyway, it's interesting. it also means that the entire game is technically the hans/henry romance arc. and i think that's neat.

#kcd 2 #hansry #kingdom come deliverance #kingdom come: deliverance ii

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samkerrworshipper · 3 months ago

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sam kerr x sister!reader

um i wrote a fic? sorry for the chelsea fans but i simply couldnt make this solely chelsea. glad that i could please the SK fans tho yall are patient and queens! hope you all enjoy and lmk what else you might want to see in the future 👀 love you all!

warnings: none? that i’m aware of !

There was something completely all-consuming about the thought of a tiny alien growing inside of a body. It made you uncomfortable, thinking about a tiny human with a deformed body and underdeveloped everything just existing inside of a person. To put it lightly, it freaked you out. It was possibly the best birth control for a 16-year-old seeing firsthand what it looked like when a baby kicked or hearing the sounds of first-trimester morning sickness. You’d made it very clear to your sister that yes, whilst you were willing to babysit once the deformed fetus entered the world and was slightly less deformed, you would take some responsibilities. You wanted nothing to do with it until it made its grand entrance into the world.

That didn’t change the fact that yours, your sister’s, and your sister’s fiancé’s lives had very quickly come to revolve solely around your future niece or nephew in a very short amount of time. Normally, it wouldn’t bother you in the slightest. If anything, you were usually doing anything and everything to get Sam and Kristie to leave you alone, but there was something different about their attention completely revolving around the life that the two of them were building together.

It hadn’t mattered truly when they’d missed your parent-teacher interviews for an anatomy scan or missed your first training with the senior Chelsea team because Kristie had woken up with such bad morning sickness that she hadn’t been able to leave the bathroom for hours, or when you’d had to walk 3 miles from school to the training grounds because your sister had been up so late trying to make Kristie comfortable enough to sleep that she’d completely forgotten that she was supposed to pick you up early on a Thursday so you didn’t miss training.

None of it mattered individually, but altogether, it made a difference.

It had been a big decision moving halfway across the world to live with your sister at 15. You were a good football player, you weren’t anywhere near the prodigy of your sister, but if you wanted to make strides in your career, it was the best decision to move to London to play in the academy. It didn’t make the decision any easier; you were moving in with your sister that you’d essentially not known for most of your childhood. Too wrapped up in her own career in other countries to spend any time with you. Yet the moment it had even been an option, she was ecstatic at the idea of you joining her in London, taking you under her wing, and truly welcoming you into the tight-knit family that Kristie and her had built in London.

It was good, it was so good. You had made advancements in your football that you didn’t think were possible; school was good, and for once in your life, you felt like you were actually in a place where you were fully understood and at peace.

It had been perfect, until Sam had torn her ACL a couple of months into your stay, and then things had gone downhill. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t deal with; in terms of the footballing aspect of your life, it was definitely tough. You didn’t have your training buddy or your person to help you settle into the club that still kind of terrified you. On the flip side, you got to spend a whole lot more one-on-one time with your sister, and her girlfriend was there to cater to all of your football needs. After the initial impacts of her surgery, life had mostly gone back to normal; sure, your sister wasn’t there physically on the pitch with you, but she was there to support you in every other way.

Then, the idea of a baby had been mentioned.

It wasn’t alarm bells from the beginning. At first, it had mostly seemed like an idea for the future, not near future. Of course, they wanted to start a family, and of course, you wanted that for them. It just hadn’t been made clear to you that it was a plan for the present. Until you’d been sitting on the couch on a movie night, and a gift bag had been thrust into your hands. The both of them had the goofiest smiles on their faces that you’d known that something had been up. You just hadn’t expected a positive pregnancy test to be the source of the excitement.

Initially, not much had changed. The pregnancy was so early on that the biggest worry was an early miscarriage and making sure that the three of you didn’t let the information slip too early.

It had been completely fine. Life had kept on moving, until the symptoms had started.

First, it was a bit of exhaustion, then some vomiting, headaches, nausea, more vomiting, migraines, insomnia, every possible pregnancy symptom you could think of. Kristie was afflicted by every possible pregnancy symptom.

You felt bad. Here, two of your favourite people were trying to start a family, and it was starting off as hell.

Then the feelings of sympathy had very quickly turned into resentment and then into isolation.

You resented the fact that you didn’t feel at home anymore. There was nothing homey about the situation you were living in. You felt like in a number of fleeting weeks you had gone from feeling on top of the world to feeling like you no longer belonged in the life that you’d so recently settled into.

It was a rough realisation to come to that you were no longer wanted, that you were being replaced.

It was a slow process, but it was easy to figure out when you were and weren’t wanted, and in the picture-perfect future life of your sister and her fiancé, it was clear that you weren’t.

You were 17, you were on the cusp of being an adult, you just hadn’t expected to be thrust into your independent adulthood so early on. A shiny new baby was going to replace you, and once that happened you were going to be even more unwanted than you already felt before it was introduced to the world.

Whilst you knew that your mood was being affected by the neglect you were suffering, it was all too easy to blame it on the exams you were going through for your last year of school, or the slight injury setbacks that were keeping you from your first minutes for the blues, or the fact that you were a teenager with fluctuating moods. You didn’t expect your slightly off interactions or slightly less happy demeanor to be a warning sign for anybody, specifically the people closest to you. Your performance on the training pitch had been as good as usual, you’d been saying all the right things, acting in all the right ways even though you actively felt like a stranger in the apartment and life you’d once felt like was home.

You’d managed to allude to all of the people closest to you, it just hadn’t occurred to you that people on the outside would notice your slightly off behaviour.

Lucy was one person at the club who was newer than you, even though you didn’t necessarily fit in with all the older girls due to the age disparity it was common knowledge that you were an extension of your sister, people who were friends with Sam were friends of yours. It was a little bit embarrassing that in hindsight most of the people were only friends with you as a result of your last name but it was easier to just accept it.

Lucy was one person that wasn’t particularly close with your sister, on no means were they enemies, they just didn’t hang out with the same people. If Sam and her didn’t interact on the regular then neither did you, that was just how it worked.

It’s why you’d been a little bit surprised when she’d asked you to be her spotting partner in the gym. A few sets in, though, it had become abundantly clear that Lucy had ulterior motives.

“So what does a kid like you do nowadays to have a little bit of fun, uh?”

You weren’t sure if spotting for Lucy was much help at all. There was absolutely zero possibility that if she failed, you were going to be able to lift the weight that she was pressing. The ease with which she did it all was shocking and enough of a focus for you.

“Play soccer for one of the best teams in England.”

Lucy laughs, even though all you’re doing is being honest. Between school, football, and trying to live up to the expectations of your sister, you don’t have time for ‘fun’.

“It must be hard, having so much pressure on you, so young?”

You shake your head. You don’t think of it that way. Pressure is privilege. That’s what your mom had taught you, and then your brother, and now your sister. Pressure is what had made you good enough to be where you were.

“It’s more pressure trying to decide what to have for breakfast in the morning than coming here every day.”

Lucy finishes her set and sits up, looking at you in a way that makes you feel like you have to ask.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Her tongue pushes against the inside of her cheek, and you get the feeling that you’re going to be told something you don’t want to hear.

“You’ve been acting differently lately, spacey, less present. I’m just wondering if there is any particular reason.”

You focus on switching the weights from Lucy’s bar to yours and lying down on the bench she’d previously occupied.

“I don’t know what would give you that impression.”

You focus on your set, and Lucy uses it as an excuse to stare at you in the exact same way she had been all morning.

“You look like a kicked puppy all the time. You’re less happy, less comfortable. You look like you’re on edge all the time.”

It’s a list of traits that probably suit you. You’ll admit that you’ve been less than enthusiastic in recent times, but you hadn't thought it had been extremely noticeable. Sam hadn’t noticed, not that she noticed much about you anymore.

“Didn’t realise you were so focused on the team protege, Bronzey.”

Like Sam, you were a pro in humorous deflection, yet when you spoke it came off with an unfamiliar edge that made you uncomfortable.

“I’m worried about one of my teammates and friends because they’re exhibiting behaviours that are unfamiliar for them and no one else seems to be noticing.”

You finish your set and focus on drinking from your water bottle and not making too much eye contact with Lucy.

“Lot of big words coming from you, Luce.”

Lucy’s determination doesn’t fade. She looks at you the same way.

“So it’s not football. I’m going to make an educated guess that it’s not school. You’re going to be an aunt and you’ve got a good family situation. What is it?”

You must flinch, even if you don’t feel it. You must because Lucy’s eyes light up.

“So it’s Kerr household issues then?”

You focus on finishing your set again. You focus on the feeling of your arms pushing and relaxing, the feeling of all your muscles stretching and slackening.

“You know you can talk to me about it. I might not have the best advice, but I won’t judge you or go and tell your sister about it or anything.”

You finish the set, and all that’s on your mind is that you have one more to go. One more and you can remove yourself from whatever this awkward conversation is and go and hide in some other corner like normal.

“I don’t know what makes you think it’s any of your business.”

You’re three reps in, nowhere near failure, yet on the next one, Lucy takes over and pulls the bar up and onto the rack.

Before you can have a go at her, she sits down next to you on the bench, and for whatever reason, puts an arm around your shoulder. It makes you incredibly uncomfortable, and you flinch away almost immediately, but Lucy doesn’t shy away.

“Look, whether it’s from a teammate to another teammate, or a friend to a friend, or whatever you feel most comfortable calling it. You don’t seem like you’re doing okay. If I can tell, it’s not going to be long before other people figure it out. I don’t really know you properly, but you seem like a good kid. You also don’t seem like the kind of person who likes to be vulnerable in front of people you don’t trust. If you don’t let go of whatever has clearly been bothering you, then that’s probably the inevitable if you don’t talk to somebody about it or get it off your chest. That person by no means has to be me or anyone else here. Just think about it, okay? You’re not alone. I can’t imagine how hard it would be playing here and everyone constantly making you feel like you were in your sister’s shadow. You aren’t just your sister, though. People around here like you beyond that, and they’re here to support you beyond that. You aren’t your last name.”

You’d be a liar if you said that Lucy’s words didn’t hit you a little bit, but you didn’t let her see that. You shook her arm off you and rolled your eyes.

“You have no fucking clue what it’s like to be me. Don’t try and make it out like you understand.”

Before she could say anything else that remotely played on your heartstrings, you walked away, dragging your drink bottle and gear off to the other side of the gym and settling into whatever exercises for your ankle strength.

You didn’t like to admit it, but what Lucy said to you resonated with you for the rest of the day. It had you in your head, thinking about it over and over again. You were second-guessing everything, and it translated out onto the pitch. In training, you were sloppy, to the point of nearly injuring yourself due to a lack of awareness. If you were trying to prove that you were over your setbacks, then it was a clear testament to the opposite. You were evidently a shit show. It was what was expected of you. You were a teenager. You were expected to crash out, to not be able to live up to the constant expectations of being a professional every day. You were falling into the one stereotype that you spent every minute of every day trying to claw away from. Already consumed by the reality of your stupifying family situation and adding on self-doubt about your every action was a whole new mind game that you’d never truly experienced.

There was one part about what Lucy had said that had stuck with you the most. If you didn’t get it off your chest soon, it was inevitable that you were going to let it slip in far worse ways, and that was a slippery slope you had no intention of going down.

It wasn’t surprising that your sister wasn’t there to pick you up after training had finished. There was a slew of excuses that trumped you. You were used to being forgotten. As the reality of new life being brought into the Kerr household became more real, it only felt like you were fading further.

You didn’t want to go home, not to a place where you actively felt like an impostor. You didn’t have many people to lean on, though. As much as Lucy tried to make it out like you were an individual person at Chelsea, you weren’t. You were Sam Kerr’s younger sister, the baby of the family, the nepotism sister, riding on your sister’s success and reaping whatever benefits came from it. You were a complete result of your sister, stuck in a never-ending cycle of following her footsteps.

In Australia, you’d had individuality, your parents’ sole focus. Your football wasn’t as good, but you hadn’t questioned your existence or how you fitted into spaces. Yet in England, or with your sister, you had to second-guess everything, were forced to feel like you didn’t belong anywhere.

You didn’t want to go home.

There weren’t a lot of people in London you could call. A couple of months ago, Kristie was your go-to person for when your sister was tied up with her stuff, but with the baby on the way, Kristie’s sole focus had been shifted. You didn’t matter in comparison. Sam’s friends were like family, but they weren’t your family; they were people that had to like you because you lived with Sam and were with her all the time. You hadn’t made many friends at Chelsea; it didn’t seem important in retrospect. It left you with a handful of people. You could always call your mum or someone else in the family, but it seemed pointless in that there would be no outcome. So you called the only person that was really left.

It had been a long shot; St Albans wasn’t exactly in close proximity to Cobham, but you felt like you were at a crossroads.

You’d had to wait outside in the cold for a while, but it wasn’t awfully long until Caitlin pulled up in front of the training grounds. Before you could second-guess your decision-making, you got into her car, buckling your seatbelt before looking at her.

“Just drive, I’ll exp n later.”

Caitlin got the message and pulled her car into drive before heading back onto the highway.

“Where we going? Yours? Mine? An airport?”

It was hard not to laugh at the predicament.

“Just yours.”

The rest of the car ride was silent; it was good, it was hard for you to slot every feeling into place, but it was good to think about it all. You felt like a whirlwind of feelings, a big spiral of never-ending emotions that were completely nonsensical.

By the time you get to Caitlin’s house, not much was making any more sense, but you felt less panicked. You walked from the car into her house in the same silence that had stretched between the two of you the whole car trip. In through the front door, into the kitchen, and sat down at the island when Caitlin pointed at one of the seats. You felt like you were cemented to the seat, all of the weight of the day, or really the last few weeks, was weighing you down like there were rocks stuffed in your pockets. You felt heavy, filled with all of the uncertainties.

Caitlin pushed a glass of water towards you, and you took it gratefully.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You’d been around Caitlin practically since birth. As a kid growing up, you hadn’t wanted to be around your sister; it had always been her best friend that had lit up your face. She was your sister’s best friend, but in every way, she was a sister to you; you’d spent every moment of your childhood following the two around and every waking moment with them when they were around.

“I can’t just spend an afternoon with my favourite auntie?”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, reaching over the table to ruffle your hair.

“Of course, you can, dickhead, but that doesn’t mean that you are. Something’s up, and if you called me, then that means you want to talk about it because it has something to do with Sam.”

Were you really that easy to read? First, Lucy, and now Caitlin. You were beginning to doubt your abilities to keep all of your cards to your chest.

“That’s some creepy shit; you should become some mindreader.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at you.

“Tell me about it; I can’t do anything in this house without her sniffing it out.”

You turned your head to see Katie standing in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling at you, but mostly at Caitlin.

“Ya didn’t tell me mini kerr was coming over.”

You tried to stop the way your face flinched at the sound of your last name. You didn’t know why in recent times it had begun to bother you so much. It was just so synonymous with your sister. Every time you heard it or saw it on your jersey, it was a clear sign of the one thing you were becoming most afraid of. You weren’t living up to it or living the life of it.

“Just wanted to spend some time with my favourite derby losers.”

Katie’s reaction is visceral. Her face moves into something of pure disgust.

“That kind of slander is just not acceptable in this house. You want to embrace your Chel-shit culture? Keep it away from our house. We’re going to have to sage the bad vibes away now. Do a full cleanse.”

At a point in your life, you’d never felt less Chelsea than you did right now. The thought of the club put you on the brink of dissociation.

“Katie, can you please go get some pasta? We’re all out, and I’m making bolognese for dinner.”

It was a cue. You were sure of it because as soon as the words left Caitlin’s mouth, Katie was nodding dutifully and off and out of sight.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up or keep dodging around it?”

With your lip between your teeth and so much uncertainty, you nodded. There wasn’t much point in keeping it all in when you’d come here with the inadvertent intention to offload some of it.

“Sam doesn’t want anything to do with me. When I got here, it was hard. We made it work, and she tried to make me fit in with her life as it was, but it never quite felt right. But with the baby now, there’s no pretending. I’m not a part of her life, and she doesn’t want to pretend that I am anymore. And I’m sick of waiting in the background, hoping she’ll get her shit together and remember that I’m part of her life. She doesn’t care about me, and I can’t handle it anymore.”

Caitlin’s expressions are schooled. They are most of the time, but she doesn’t give anything at all away.

“Your sister loves you a lot. I’m not invalidating what you’re feeling. I am sure that you’re right. She loves you though. Before you came here, all she ever talked about was wanting to spend more time with you, going back to see you, Facetiming you.”

You shake your head. You didn’t come here to be told that you’re loved. You came here to feel a little bit less chained down.

“No, she doesn’t, or she doesn’t show it remotely. She doesn’t pick me up from school. She forgets me or stopped caring because she’s busy looking after Kristie or busy being worried about the baby, stressing about the baby. It’s all they talk about. It’s all they care about. It’s the shiny new toy, and I’m the old one at the back of the wardrobe that’s all broken and disgusting. I’m the last option. I’m the last option at Chelsea, the last option at home, the last option for everybody, and I can’t physically handle it. I’m done constantly being left on the fucking sidelines of life whilst everybody else plays.”

Caitlin nods. She listens. It’s what you need. You just need to feel listened to.

“Your sister should be focusing more on you. She doesn’t realise that you didn’t move for independence like she did. When we moved for football for the first time, it was because we finally wanted independence. We wanted freedom. We wanted to feel like adults. You want to feel supported, want to feel like you’re a part of a family. You’re feeling that whilst your sister is simultaneously beginning to start her own family, and that’s scary. I would be scared by that if I were you. You’re seeing the cementation of new roots, and in your eyes, you don’t fit into the foundation that they’re building. There’s one thing that hasn’t changed about your sister since we were 18, and that is the fact that she’s a little bit unobservant. She doesn’t do small feelings. She does the big ones. She doesn’t understand the anxieties that you’re experiencing because she doesn’t experience them. Also, whether you want to admit it or not, I think you might be a little bit jealous of this baby. You didn’t get to spend your childhood with your sister. That was stripped from you when she moved away. This baby gets all the attention and all the love and doesn’t get left behind, and that’s tough.”

You are a little dumbstruck for words. It’s been hard to pinpoint all of your feelings, and yet Caitlin has just laid them all out in front of you.

“I’m not jealous of the fetus.”

Caitlin snorts, a proper snort that has you in fits of giggles.

“Not even a little bit?”

You shake your head defiantly. It’s easier to deny than admit it.

“Because think about it. This time you’re like the older sister. That kid won’t want to be spending time with Kristie and Sam. It’ll be fawning over you from day one. Babies take a village. I know you feel on the outs right now, but when that baby comes, it’ll change.”

It’s easy to say that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but in your opinion, there really isn’t. You can’t see any future where you feel any less of a misfit.

“It’s not just Sam though. It’s everywhere. I don’t have friends, not at Chelsea. I’m my sister’s shadow, I always have been, but since the move, it’s been worse. I can’t make friends at school. I’m there purely to go to class, and I miss half of them anyways. Everyone at Chelsea sees me as my sister. I’m just an extension of her. Everything I do that is any good is because of her. Nobody can see past it.”

Caitlin didn’t have a quick answer for you. Your eyes burned with angry, hot tears. They were yet to spill, but they were on the brink, and it was impossible to ignore.

“I can’t get away from my sister’s shadow, and it would be fine if I felt like I was a byproduct of her, if she spent every waking moment helping me be that way. But she hasn’t. It’s all been me. It’s been my hard work, my own push. Sure, she’s helped me into environments that have made me better, but it’s been my hard work. She hasn’t done shit, and yet all anybody says is that I’m good because of her, that I’m just a result of my sister’s influence. I’ll always be a shadow of her to everyone, even her.”

It’s a cathartic feeling. The tears slip down your face. You push and scratch at your cheeks, trying to remove the evidence, but it’s obvious. It’s ugly. It’s everything that’s been building.

Caitlin doesn’t say anything. She just walks around the counter and gives you a big hug.

“You are a lot more than your sister, and if people don’t recognise that, then you should be getting away from that, taking a break. You deserve to feel like your own person because you are.”

You don’t have anything left to say. You’ve laid it all out, and it feels good, but there isn’t any change. Venting is good, but when you’re going to go back to it all, it doesn’t truly matter. You’re stuck in the prison of your life, and there is no escaping.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted. How about you go and take a nap before dinner? Refresh and let your mind rest, and we can regroup, okay? I promise you we can find a solution to some of this.”

You nod; you are feeling tired. It’s been hard to sleep at the apartment with Kristie constantly getting up during the night to hurl her guts.

Caitlin’s guest room is warm, it’s nice, it’s virtually the same as your room at home, and yet it feels so much more welcoming. It doesn’t take you long to drift off.

When you wake up, it’s very clear that quite a few hours have passed. Not only is it completely black, but the sleep in your eyes and fogginess in your head is enough of an indicator that what was going to be a quick nap had turned into something a lot longer. The edges of your vision are hazy and blurred as you blink your way back into consciousness. You don’t want to get up, not at all. It would be so much easier to just stay where you are, forever. Just stay lying in bed and warm and cozy, comfortable. You didn’t get to where you were today, though, by allowing yourself to be comfortable.

So begrudgingly, you pulled yourself out of the bed, still dressed head to toe in a Chelsea tracksuit and hoodie. It really did feel illegal amongst all of the Arsenal memorabilia in every corner, and on every wall of the house, it only made you feel like more of a dichotomy.

Your stomach began to rumble as you walked down the stairs to the kitchen. You were sure that you must have missed dinner but hoped that maybe something had been left aside to tide you over.

You could hear murmurs coming from the kitchen, and in your state of half-awakeness, you’d put it down as being Caitlin and Katie.

You were off guard, and that’s why you’d been more shocked than you thought possible when you walked into the kitchen and your sister was seated in the exact same place you’d been sat a couple of hours ago. Immediately, both Caitlin and your sister’s eyes were on you, them both seeming just as surprised as you.

You were ready to bolt, but Caitlin’s voice stopped you.

“Your sister came to talk to you. She was worried when you weren’t home tonight for dinner.”

You roll your eyes, if you’d moved out a month ago Sam wouldn’t have noticed.

“We haven’t had dinner together in months, don’t lie to my face. You called her, you fucking called her, I trsuted you with something and you called her.”

Sam looked like she was going to butt in but Caitlin stopped her.

“Okay, yes I called her. Because I was worried but also mad and I wanted to fix that. I’m going to leave you two to sort this out.”

Caitlin started to walk towards you and out of the kitchen, you couldn’t help but clutch for her hand as she walked away.

“It’s going to be fine. Trust me and listen to what she says and tell her how you feel. She came here to fix things, or start to fix things.”

Caitlin closes the kitchen door leaving just you and your sister alone with each other.

“Just because we don’t have dinner together doesn’t mean I don’t notice when you’re done. Mum would kill me if I wasn’t keeping an eye on you and let her baby sneak out.”

It was the connotation of it all, Sam didn’t care, she was doing all of this for your mum.

“I’m so sorry mum decided to burden you with my presence.”

Your sister exhales, like she’s trying to keep control, because she feels she has to.

“That’s not what I meant. You matter just as much to me as you do to mum.”

Rich. Really rich coming from her.

“Oh yeah, so that’s why mum calls me everyday to ask me about my day and how I’m doing and you just exist beside me. When was the last time you talked to me about anything besides football or the baby or Kristie? When was the last time you did anything with me that wasn’t related to football. When was the last time you asked me anything about my life or even acted like you cared?”

Sam exhales again, and breathes in like she’s trying to suck in every bit of oxygen in the room.

“It’s not like that.”

You didn’t want to be angry about all of this, sad, disheartened, depressed. You could deal with that, but anger was so much harder.

“Oh tell me how it is then. I know you didn’t ask to be looking after your teenage sister fulltime but you could at least pretend like my presence isn’t a complete burden to you. I fucking idolised you my whole childhood, when we had dress up days at school I would always dress up as you. I’ve always wanted to be you, and I was fine with everybody putting me into the box of Sam Kerr’s sister, I didn’t care, if anything it was the best feeling in the world. I didn’t care about being your shadow when you were my favourite person. But now that I’m here you’ve wrecked it all. You don’t have to tell me that I don’t fit into your picture perfect life, I’m well aware. I just didn’t expect you to treat me like fucking shit. I’m sick of it, I want to go home, I’d rather jeopardise my football career by going back then deal with anymore of this.”

Sam looks like she’s about to start crying and it feels good, you want her to feel what you are feeling, you want her to feel an inch of what you’ve been feeling for the past months.

“You aren’t a burden to me. Not at all.”

You scoff, you aren’t a burden but she just opts to forget your existence, makes a lot of sense.

“Okay so am I a ghost then? Do I have the ability to turn invisible and nobody has told me about it because you sure fucking act like I’m not here 95% of the time.”

Your sister stands up and starts to walk towards you and you immediately move. You don’t want touch or hugs or whatever she’s going to offer.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that way. I’m really sorry.”

You really don’t know what to say to that. It’s a step forward but it doesn’t do anything, saying sorry is good and well but it doesn’t change an action.

“I thought you came here for independence. God mum made it out like you were going to blow perth up if she didn’t get you out soon enough. I’ve wanted to be close to you since you were born, you were the light in all of our lives. Then you were here and I underestimated what it was going to be like but it was awesome and just having you in the house made it all so much better. Kristie and I had always wanted kids but having you around just made it seem like it would be the right fit, you have made our lives so much better. So, we started the process and it was all I could think about. I was your age when mum had you, I got to see you take your first steps and grow your first tooth and I thought it would be good for you to have the same experience. I just didn’t get how much time it would take up and how consumed with it I would get. You don’t deserve to feel this way, you don’t deserve to not feel cared for. I love you more than anybody else, I would put down anything for you, without a question. I haven’t made it seem that way recently but it’s true. You’re my priority, you always have been and you always will be. I don’t want you to go back home, having you here has been the best thing that has ever happened. I don’t know how i;m going to fix this but I’m going to. I’ll maker the changes, I’ll talk to Kristie, I’ll spend more time with you like I did before.”

So many feelings, so little words.

“You don’t get me. I don’t want you to give up time, Kristie is the love of your life, this baby is going to be your kid. Your kid, not your sister, your kid. I don’t want you to detest me because I take away moments from your life.”

Sam shakes her head.

“You are just as big a part of my life as anything else is. You fit into it all, if I haven’t amde you feel that way that is completely my fault.”

It’s nice to hear her say that, it’s nice to feel accepted even if it’s just for a second.

“It’s not just that. I am literally your shadow. I don’t have any friends at Chelsea, everyone thinks I’m good because of you. Kerr is plastered everywhere and I’m just synonymous with all of your achievements. I don’t get to be me, the only difference is the different first name letter on our jerseys. I’m a good football player, because of me, not because of you. I’m sick of everyone telling me that I have a good right foot because my sister is Sam Kerr, or that I must have gotten my good defending skills from practicing with you. Everything has to be because of you, and I can’t handle it. I don’t have any friends that aren’t yours, my life is a by product of yours and I’m done with it being that way.”

This time when Sam takes a step towards you, you don’t immediately step away. Her presence doesn’t bother you, it’s the look on her face.

“Okay, we can fix that. You want to quit? Move clubs? Go on Loan? I can talk to everyone at the club and make changes. Wew can change jerseys, you can have your first name and not last name. You should spend some extra time with the younger girls, stop feeling restricted by what I do and don’t do and just live your life. I’ll tell everuone how much of a fuckup I am and how you are skilled because of you. Whatever you want, I am here to support it. I haven’t done that enough recently and it needs to change, I want to make you my complete priority. No more forgetting you because I’m being selfish and only thinking about myself. My asshat behaviour ends now, I promise. What do you want, I will try my hardest to help you get it. I can call our agent right now and you can be playing in a different country.”

You shake your head, a small smile working it’s way to the corners of your mouth at your sisters franticness.

“I don’t know, I have no fucking clue what I want. I just want you to know, I want help, I want to not feel like shit everyday just because of who I am.”

Sam nods, and reaches out for you. The hug is easy, it’s cathartic, you feel so much pressure releasing from your body as her arms tighten around you.

“Okay, I can do that. We can do that. You and me yeah, you and me against the world.”

It’s not even close to fixed, your life hasn’t changed. But the overall weight, the soul crushing pressure of it all fades. You don’t trust, you don’t trust her to make changes. She hasn’t earnt that trust but you hope, you fucking hope that maybe something is going to happen.

#sammykworshipper thoughts #woso community #woso #sammykworshipperfics #sam kerr #sam kerr being protective #sam kerr x kristie mewis #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr x reader #samkerrworshipperactuallywritingaboutsamkerr?#sister sam kerr #woso fic #woso imagine #woso couples #woso fanfics #woso one shot

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thewardenisonthecase · 2 months ago

Text

its almost 5am and I really should go to sleep but I do actually like what hardening does for Alistair's character and how that affects his actions during the Landsmeet.

Like, for most of the game, Alistair is more than happy to let the Warden take the lead, even though they're a recruit and he's a junior member of the other. Even Morrigan points this out. And at certain points, especially during how you resolve the Isolde/Connor issue, it causes clashing - Alistair openly criticizes the warden for the decisions they're taking and yet, he doesnt want to take responsability himself. And like, yes, all companions will openly criticize the warden over decisions they disagree with, but Alistair sits in a unique position where, by all means, he should be the one taking charge of this gig, as the person who's been a grey warden for longer. (and like i understand why he does it but its still like c'mon man-)

And the other thing with Alistair is that he's an idealist in a very brutal world. And I don't necessarily consider that a bad thing, because to me, a lot of Alistair's idealism comes from a place of 'I've endured a lot of harshness and this is how I cope with that'. But the problem is that Thedas is not a world that is kind, and while commendable, Alistair's idealism does hurt him - take Goldanna's scene as an example of that. Any other person would probably tell that yeah, maybe not the best idea to bother someone you've never even met, but Alistair is so desperate about this idea of having this sister and a family that he doesn't see how poorly it can go and it gets himself hurt in the end. Like, the wardens are known and lowkey famous for conscripting literally anyone who can fight into their order - including criminals, and yet, Alistair is lowkey bombastic side-eyeing Daveth because he was a criminal. Like you see what I mean?

And anyways, while I do think that like, the hardening scene could be handled better in how it is presented, I like what it means for Alistair. Hardening is a good word for this, I think and its something my therapist has talked to me about in therapy. Life is harsh, and you do need to like, protect yourself over some things or else shit will be harder. The best analogy I can give is, to play the guitar, you need to use your fingers, and eventually, you'll get callus on your hands, because that's your skin literally hardening so you won't get hurt too often. It allows you to keep playing, and I think that's how I view hardening for Alistair - he's still the same man, however, he might not get as easily hurt now.

It's also about maturity. I love Alistair, and while I do think fandom infantilizes him A LOT, he still sometimes come off as a tad immature, and hardening does make it feel like he "grew up" in a way and that to me is very clear when it comes to the Landsmeet, (especially if you allow Alistair to fight Loghain (but that's a post of its own).

So, during the Landsmeet, after Loghain is killed (yes that is the perspective I'm going with bc I always kill Loghain ok so idk how it plays out if he lives), the Warden has to decide who will lead Ferelden and you're allowed a moment to speak with both Alistair and Anora. If you talk to Alistair and he is hardened, Alistair will straight up tell you to make him king when asked "what do you think i should do?"

and like here's the thing. I think even hardened, Alistair still doesn't want to be king. But being an adult and taking responsability is not about doing things you want - its about doing things you *don't* want to do but that you must do anyways. And, to me, this is one of my favorite Alistair moments because its kinda like full circle and it mirrors the warden's own experience. The Warden, in most cases, didn't want to become a grey warden but they were forced into that position and then they HAD TO take responsability and save Ferelden, and now, Alistair being put in a position where he has to do the same, and he has finally come to terms with. And after the Landsmeet, he even says that and adds that 'there's some good even I can do' which I think its like, a stark contrast to Alistair 'i wish i had died instead of Duncan'.

Also side note, I think its interesting that, while he does say 'give the crown to anora it looks better on her anyways' and is vocally against being made king, there's a moment where, to me, its basically alistair, on a subconscious level, coming to terms that he might have to become king and that's when you talk to him after talking to Anora and he does speak of her qualities as queen, but also mentions how he's suspicious of stuff because at the end of the day, she's still Loghain's daughter and he even says:

anyways, i can hear birds singing outside but just as a warning or whatever. This is not a "hardened alistair is better" or "king alistair is better", this is me saying why I particularly like this version of this character, but at the end of the day, make the choices you want to make bc thats what really matters - its an RPG, there's not real "better/best" option. the Best option is always the one that makes you the happier/more satisfied.

#alistair theirin #meta #i guess #i dont liek calling it meta but it is what it is

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cursedonyx · 8 months ago

Note

I read the post about students reacting to mc dying in their arms. You should do the professors (including Black)

Thank you for the ask! 💚

Hogwarts Legacy Professors React to MC Dying in Their Arms

Link to student reactions here

⚠️Content warning for Death and Body Horror Below the Cut⚠️

Professor Hecat

Dina Hecat had rarely found herself as impressed with a student as she was with you. Your tenacity, your aptitude for magic, your ability to pick up new and complex defensive magic was unmatched, though Sebastian made a valiant effort to maintain a solid second place behind you. Such was your prowess that Dina thought you might make an excellent Auror, and determined to tutor you privately once you expressed an interest. It was a thrill to begin with, to teach you all the tips and tricks an Auror might need in their arsenal, you picking them all up as if it was as easy as breathing, to the point that Dina grew complacent.

She’d heard tales of your exploits during your fifth year, of course, and fought beside you during the Battle for the Repository. She was confident that you could handle anything thrown at you, and you impressed her over and over and over. But all it took was one tiny misstep, one foot wrong, and all her Ministry training and the reason behind it was thrown into sharp relief.

The troll was supposed to be an easy dispatch. You’d defeated one when you were brand new to magic, after all. Dina had taught you an advanced form of confringo, or at least, she’d taught you the theory. It was a powerful spell, a short step below feindfyre, and she was eager to see it in practice. But the troll had flung its club just as you began the incantation, and everything went wrong. You were distracted as it flew towards Dina, and you lost control of the spell.

The resulting inferno was too much for mere aguamenti, and there was nothing Dina could do but wait for the flames to die down, listening to you scream as you blundered about in the middle of the fire, unable to find a way out. When the smoke cleared, all that was left of you was a charred skeleton, your clawed hand leaving sooty streaks on her skin as she took it, hoping that this was some kind of nightmare, some kind of illusion or hallucination, anything but brutal, cold reality.

There was an investigation, of course. Why was a seventh-year student out fighting trolls? Why was this student doing so under the instruction of a faculty member that should have known better? Why had this professor allowed things to get so out of control?

Dina avoided Azkaban for her neglect by a narrow margin, but she had to give up her teaching post. She passed a little over a year later, having drunk herself to death, unable to cope with the guilt.

Professor Ronen

Abraham Ronen had always had such a love of fun and games, determined to make each of his classes a joy for his students. Yes, he recycled ideas through the terms, a large timetable in his office holding large lists of games he could incorporate that was appropriate for each year of Charms classes. But even so, after several years in his position, he found these games began to grow repetitive, and he wanted to liven things up.

That’s where you came in. Your ingenuity was famous throughout Hogwarts for a reason, and so he called on you one day after class, requesting your assistance in thinking up new games to play. He gave you a list of the spells he was to teach his seventh-year students, promising to waive your homework for a month if you helped out. You took to the task like a kappa to water, assailing Abraham with a variety of ‘games’ that would help the other students learn. The problem was, most of your games involved far too much risk for his liking, including trying to steal a dragon egg. Despite your protestations that you knew where to find one, Abraham wasn’t having it. But he’d promised, and you’d promised, and a deal was a deal.

So extreme were your ideas that when you proposed the still dangerous but comparatively tame idea of delayed-action bombarda combined with glacius, Abraham thought the idea of students running through a booby-trapped field, freezing the latent explosive spells, was a positively marvellous idea.

The students were less keen. They, unexposed to your particular brand of fun, saw the folly in such a practice. But you, determined that everyone should have fun, decided to be the first across the field. Abraham realised far too late just how foolish this game was, and had barely raised his wand as you danced across the minefield before disaster struck, and you were blown apart.

He tried his best to gather the pieces of you that rained down. A severed foot here, a shattered forearm there, holding his robes like an apron and gathering you up. It was futile, of course, for once a witch or wizard’s head is detached from their body, even the very best healers only have a few seconds to make it right.

He could never get that image out of his mind. One moment you were smiling, laughing, joking, teasing the others for their hesitancy, and the next you were in bits, everything that you were tumbling from the sky in slow motion. Every student in that class was scarred for life, set to fail their Charms NEWTs, fifty promising careers suddenly thrown down the toilet. Abraham resigned in shame, and did not go home to his wife. He wandered until he became lost, and lost himself until he found a cliff. Only by shattering himself on the rocks below could he find some form of atonement for his sins.

Professor Sharp

Aesop Sharp had always preferred to be somewhat gruff and stern. It kept his pupils in line, and his firm but fair approach ensured that everyone that took his classes passed with good marks, even if they had a tendency to blow things up, a practice he’d secretly taken to calling “doing a Garreth.” You, on the other hand, slipped past his guard. Maybe it was your incredible aptitude for offensive and defensive magic, or perhaps it was your endearing wit and charm. It could have been your happy-go-lucky nature, your ability to smile no matter how dire things seemed to be, always poking fun at yourself before anyone else. He found himself growing fond of you, thinking of you as some kind of wayward nibling.

He still had to give you detentions on occasion, of course, because even you couldn’t cheek the Potions Master and get away with it, no matter how well-intentioned your words had been. He found such hours to be more of a delight than a chore, happy to talk to you about anything and everything, even laughing a little as you revealed some of the mischief you’d gotten up to, things he’d normally give more detentions for.

One evening in the dungeons, you were cheerfully scrubbing out the cauldrons, and you asked him about is days as an Auror. You told him about an Ashwinder camp you’d caught wind of, and how you wished you could eradicate them. Aesop knew he should report it to Officer Singer and keep you out of it, but hell, he’d seen you fight, and there was something in him that yearned for that spark of excitement that came with defeating his enemies. He suggested travelling with you to wipe them out, considering it worth at least three detentions. You joked that this meant you had two free passes to be cheeky in class, and he told you not to push your luck.

If only he’d known. If only he’d taken a moment to think. If only he’d listened to his Auror instincts that told him this was a bad idea.

You’d both crept up on the camp, wands at the ready. There weren’t many of them, but enough to pose a bit of a challenge. Aesop had every confidence in you, he knew your skills after all, but unfortunately, the Ashwinders did as well. The moment they saw you, they didn’t bother with their typical hexes. They knew enough about you to know they couldn’t waste a second if they wanted to live. Three Killing Curses were sent your way, and one found its mark.

Aesop thought he knew loss when his partner was killed in Scarborough, but this was something else. Watching the light go out of your eyes, the ghost of your last, confident smile on your face, broke him like nothing had broken him before. He didn’t even try to resist when the Ashwinders took him, snatching his wand and throwing him in a cage along with the kneazles they’d poached. He couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind, your still body lying amid the debris of the Forbidden Forest, already ignored and forgotten by your foes, left for whatever scavengers crept through the night to feast. He refused food and water as he was dragged from one end of the country to the other, kept prisoner by those that had killed you. It took weeks to kill him, but one morning, lying on the floor of that cold, hard cage, he just didn’t wake up.

Professor Black

Phineus Nigellus Black preferred to let the students of Hogwarts think he was a cold-hearted, pompous bastard. It was much easier to work this way, easier to make the tough decisions a Headmaster of Hogwarts needed to make. Budget cuts, cancelling quidditch, extending exam season and banning Hogsmeade visits to ensure student safety was easier to weather if his heart was already hardened to the complaints and cries of woe, the bitter mutters, the whispered insults, the playground songs made up to poke fun at him. Yes, it hurt, but he was better than that. Stronger. Prouder. He had a job to do, after all, and Merlin only knew the previous Headmaster had left a hellish mess for him to set right. He had to be hard to be kind. He preferred not to pay attention to those around him, erecting a hard wall around his heart.

You, however… you were different. He heard about what you did in your fifth year, and though he found it hard to believe at first, he paid a bit more attention to you as time went by, and found the tales of your prowess were, if anything, undersold. Phineas made an effort in your final year to take you under his wing, seeing a potential candidate for the position of Minister for Magic in your future. He wanted to teach you the finer points of politics and bootlicking, introduce you to the right people, like the Gaunts, the Blacks, the Malfoys and more to give you the boost you needed to clamber up that slippery ladder. The only gifts he knew how to give.

You were resistant, of course. What kind of firecracker would you be if you weren’t? Phineas relished the challenge, demanding more and more of your free time until you began to understand just what kind of privileges came along with knowing the right people and scratching the right backs. Ominis knew it and used it to his advantage perhaps less than he should have done, but this seemed to tip the scales in Phineas' favour, and you finally began to listen and learn from his wise tutelage. He found himself swelling with pride as you whipped about your newfound allegiances, terrifying students and teachers alike, reining you in when you frightened Hobhouse so much he wet himself, his scolding gentle and warm. He might have had five children, but you showed promise.

Unfortunately, even the shrewd and clever Phineas couldn’t have foreseen the simple dangers of existing in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He’d taken you to the trophy room, waxing lyrical about the famous witches and wizards that had come through Hogwarts, pointing out their accolades with relish, his hand on your shoulder, a rare and affectionate gesture of genuine pride. He told you that you could achieve just as much, perhaps more, if you applied all your skills and knowledge in the right ways. He even smiled at you, and his eyes were warm.

You asked to see a particularly bright medal on a high shelf, and Phineas, taking a leaf out of your muggleborn book, decided to give the other life a try, just for once. If a muggleborn could be as impressive as you, perhaps he didn’t have to use magic for everything. He tried to reach the medal by hand, even climbing on the shelf to do so, smiling as it made you laugh. He climbed down, medal in hands, his brow furrowing as your face grew ashen. The next moment, you had barrelled into him, throwing him out of the way of the falling shelf.

By the time he picked himself up, scolding you for your behaviour, it was too late. The falling shelves and shattered glass had crushed you, slashing your neck. By the time Phineas realised you weren’t just pratting about like you usually did, you’d bled out, your skin pale, your eyes wide and unseeing. Phineas sat on the floor beside your corpse, holding your fingers closed over the medal that read:

Most Impressive Display of Honour.

Professor Garlick

Mirabel Garlick had endured her share of enamoured students, villagers, and even fellow professors in her time. She dealt with it all with the grace and decorum that was expected of such a sunny personality, treating all and sundry with the same level of ardent attention and big, bright smiles. She had a soft spot for you though, someone who appreciated magical plants for the marvels they were. She didn’t mind when you stayed after class to quiz her on the less known properties of pufferpods or the right way to tamp down earth around a mandrake to ensure maximum comfort. She’d heard all about your little adventure to see the giant venomous tentacula, and had been curious about your knowledge ever since.

She was more than happy to help you grow your plants bigger and better than what the school board advised. She even cleared out Greenhouse Four for your personal use, encouraging you to grow things most students would only ever see if they were extremely unlucky. But she trusted you. She believed you knew what you were doing, swept up by your enthusiasm, tempted by her own curiosity to see just how far you could push your skills.

So it was that the pair of you ended up breeding a new kind of Devil’s Snare, one that was resistant to light and heat. It took time, and though you both occasionally wondered what the purpose of such a plant would be, you were too excited by the prospect of your experiments bearing fruit to worry about consequences. Mirabel should have known better. The only defence against a Devil’s Snare is light and heat, and both of you pushed away thoughts of protection against such a thing. It seemed playful, intelligent, happy.

It was early on a Saturday morning when Mirabel decided to look in on Greenhouse Four. It was only by chance that she had decided to do so, and she would spend the rest of her life wishing she had been five minutes sooner. She saw the Devil’s snare distract you with dancing tendrils as it had so many times before, only this time, you were too close. It wrapped you up faster than a spider wraps a fly, crushing the life from you. No matter how many incendios she cast, no matter how much she shouted and beat at it, even conjuring a torch to hold against the vines, all it did was hurt you more as it crushed the life from you, each snap of your ribs loud above your gasping breaths, the crunch of your spine grinding in her ears, the blood from your nose splattering on the floor as your lungs punctured, your eyes bulging out of their sockets. Even still you fought to draw breath until there was no more room in your chest.

Mirabel had never felt so helpless. She sank to her knees, waiting as the Devil’s Snare took you into its core to feed upon your corpse. She didn’t resist when the vines caressed her face, then wrapped around her throat, her wand lying forgotten on the floor of Greenhouse Four.

Professor Fig

Eleazar Fig had always had a soft spot for you. He’d watched you grow from a novice to a master in the space of a year, popular and clever, beloved by your peers and professors alike. He always made sure to make time for you in his office, sharing a cup of tea as you discussed your past adventures, gossiped about the students, or just had a jolly good chinwag. You both shared a love of adventure, and made time at least once a month to get up to mischief, whether it was investigating old ruins, clearing out mongrel dens, or just running the occasional errand for those in need. You delighted in having your mentor along for the ride, and he adored helping you where he could.

Unfortunately for you, your exploits over the years made you enemies. Though you helped a good many people and made plenty of friends, there were those that were hard done by when you stole from them or caused them trouble on behalf of someone else. Eleazar knew this, and made sure to continually warn you to watch your back, clucking like a mother hen. Perhaps he warned you too much, his words of caution becoming background noise as you continually avoided retribution for your misdeeds. Eleazar did his best to keep you safe all the same, ardently researching your enemies and eliminating plots before they came to fruition.

But after almost a year of no schemes against you, he dared to relax. He invited you out to lunch at Steepley and Sons, intending to enjoy a quiet cup of tea, some nice sandwiches, and perhaps even a slice of cake, his treat, of course. He wanted to catch up properly, to make sure you were happy, on top of your homework, getting on with your friends. You wanted to know how he was coping after Miriam’s passing, if he was back on the scene, how his work as a teacher was going, and can he please get you out of detention with Professor Sharp?

Neither of you expected after all this time there were still those that held a grudge. The young wizard helping Mrs Steepley was actually an Ashwinder, and they poisoned your cup of tea. It took a moment to take effect, but once it did, the only way to save you was locked away in Hogwarts Castle. Even accio couldn’t have got the antidote to you in time.

Eleazar watched as your face went ashen, seemingly sinking in on itself as you clawed at your throat. He caught you as you listed sideways, his eyes locked on yours, trying to comfort you, soothe you as you struggled to draw breath, not even a pin able to pass through the tightness of your throat. Your nails left bloody furrows on your neck, your feet kicking feebly even as someone ran for J Pippin’s, hoping he’d be able to help. Eleazar knew better. He just held you as your body jerked, the last of your life sliding through his fingers as he tried oh so hard to hold on to it, begging you silently to just hold on a little longer. You were all he had, the last spark of joy in his cold, dark life. Once you were gone, there was nothing left for him. A swift unforgivable curse delivered to his temple as he lay in his chamber was enough to ensure he could see you and Miriam again.

witchdoctorpirate ~💚

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy professors #tragedy #professor fig #eleazar fig #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor garlick #mirabel garlick #professor hecat #dina hecat #professor ronen #abraham ronen #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #duncan hobhouse #garreth weasley

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gomzwrites · 2 years ago

Text

The taskforce 141 reactions to your display of jealousy

a/n: I’ve seen a fair amount of fics and writings that show them being jealous, but what if we are the ones that get jealous then? ;)

In this fic, the reader is more like in denial sort of jealousy + first time feeling jealous kind of thing. I decided to do a mix of displays from reader, Price and Ghost are subtle, Soap and Gaz are more direct!

I might do another one where it's more action-based and possessive like reader beating the strangers up or something

also the relationship between reader and tf141 is not exactly publicly known :) Notes:

dividers drawn by @gomzdraws (click for better resolution!)

reader's texts are in purple

Tags: xgn!reader, established relationship(basically already dating), incorrect military terms, implied nsfw but its sfw I swear, cursing

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price

Captain Price has been going around giving meetings and distributing tasks as you follow along and help him carry the essential documents all day. In the last meeting, he will meet one of the operators to explain the upcoming missions. You decide to wait on the other side of the room as you watch the captain carry out his duty.

Everything was fine as the conversation went on. You may be standing at a distance, but you can faintly hear the discussion. You can tell he is quite impressed with the soldier’s skill, and the exchange was beginning to be less serious as they started talking about things that were out of topic. You watch from the corner of your eyes as the person starts leaning closer, even cracking jokes as they pat John’s shoulder.

Well, whoever that is, they sure know how to butter the captain up.

You thought for a moment before internal cursing as you shook your head.

Get a grip; he is the captain; surely he knows what he’s do-

Your thoughts stop as you watch the person lean in and whisper something to John’s ears, and you notice how the Captain shifted slightly and cleared his throat. The soldier proceeded to shuffle something into his back pants pocket before leaving, even winking at him before the door was closed.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows as you watch Captain sigh, walk back to his desk, and take his seat. You waited until he gestured for you to come to him with his hand, and you decided to act naturally as you organised the messy papers and reports on his table.

This is not something you should be worried about in the first place, so don’t even bring it up. You say this to yourself internally as you take a seat next to him and read through the documents. But your mind keeps racing, and there's a burning feeling inside you, clouding your thoughts as you tap your finger softly on the table repeatedly.

"Y/N", the Captain said as he lifted your chin up. You followed his hand and slowly glanced up and stared at him with a hint of embarrassment. Did he find out what I was thinking already?

Yes, sir?

You answer back with the most steady voice you can muster at the moment. You watch as he softens his gaze and brushes your hair away. You recognise that look.

You’re not talking to the captain now; you’re talking to John.

He doesn't say a word as he takes out the paper from his back pocket and places it on the table. You try to maintain your composure and remain as calm as you can when you see a number scribbled on the paper, but you can't help but let out a cold glare at the paper for a second.

That piece of shi-

He taps your chin twice lightly as he grabs your attention again before running his hand down to your neck and resting it there. You know this signal, so you promptly hold out his favourite lighter that you carry around and light up his cigar. He hums appreciatively as he takes a drag and puffs out the smoke.

He looks back at you, silently telling you to keep your eyes on his as he takes the cigar out of his lips, twisting it between his fingers before he rolls and holds the cigar vertically, the evenly burned red-orange cherry side at the end facing downward. You follow curiously before watching him plant it firmly on the paper, twisting it until a hole appears as he smiles and kisses your cheek.

"You know I’ll only look at you, sweetheart," he whispers with his deep, husky tone as you blush and glance away.

You knew? You say it softly as he leans in and brushes your neck in slow circles as he nods and chuckles.

"Course I do, I know everything about you," he said before taking another drag from his cigar as he smirked and leaned in closer.

"You look like you were about to punch that person in the face; it’s pretty hot, actually," he says as he watches you shake your head and roll your eyes lightly.

Hot? Woah, who knew you liked me being violent?

You joke back as he kisses your ears softly, feeling his beard tickling you as you sigh. He gives you a dark look, dipping his voice another octave lower as he moves his hand from your neck slowly down to your hip.

Oh, I love it when you get all rowdy and rough, especially if you’re doing it because of me, like last night, hm?

That instantly makes you go red as you give a nervous laugh and squirm in your seat at the memory. He gives you an amused look as he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you in closer.

Well, it looks like tonight will be the same.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John Soap MacTavish

You were idling around the base after just finishing healing from a previous mission. Technically, you’re not supposed to move around so much, but you were already getting bored as you stared up at the same ceiling for days. You know Soap has been helping you out immensely by practically moving into your room and keeping you company. But he went on a mission and won’t return until today, so you decided to sneak out of the room and brew yourself a cup of tea. You hum as you take in the smell and sigh.

This is certainly better than water, that’s for sure

you think to yourself before deciding to walk around and explore the base. Well, just glancing around to see if there’s anything new that has happened. That’s when you spotted a few jeeps with a group of people and a few regular faces you recognised: Ghost, Gaz, Price, and your boyfriend Soap getting down from the vehicle. You wanted to wave and call out to Soap before noticing someone else beside him, but what really caught your attention was the jacket the person was wearing; it was his jacket. Your favourite jacket of his.

You stop dead in your tracks from a distance as your grip on the tea mug tightens. You observe as Soap and the gang talk and laugh, you know like they always do post-mission, and yet something just doesn’t seem right for you as you fixate your gaze on the person that has been clinging to Soap, wrapping their hands around his arm as they also joke along. You can see Soap politely patting their arms away as he bumps their shoulder.

Right, he’s doing something about it. You thought to yourself before you quickly went back to your room. You knew Soap wouldn't do anything that would upset you, but yet you couldn’t shake that thought away—the thought of someone else whirling him away. You hate it; whatever it is that you’re feeling, it feels wrong, even toxic, but you just can’t help it. You know it's not his fault, and you’re well aware that he can’t control everyone’s actions. You decided to lie on your bed and pull the blanket over yourself as you tried to sleep it away.

Not long after, Soap knocks gently at your door and enters your room. He notices how you are facing the wall and bundled in a blanket, breathing normally, which indicates that you aren't sleeping despite your eyes being closed.

Heeeeeyyyy, how’s ma favourite cutie feeling, hm?

He asked in his usual light tone as he sat on your bed and petted your blanket. He stared at you as he leaned in and kissed your shoulder softly.

Ya awrite?

He asked as he noticed how you were quieter than usual. Your heart broke slightly as you noted how his tone became worried, so you turned around and gently brushed his cheek as you shook your head.

I'm okay, dear. Just tired. You lied as you smiled and watched as he took your hand and cupped his own face. “Anything ah can do for ye?”, He asks again with puppy eyes as you chuckle, pulls his face close to you, and kiss his lips softly. Cuddles. You whisper softly as he smiles and hugs you close. Ayeee, then it's cuddles you're gettin’

He says as he lays down beside you, nuzzles his neck on your shoulder, and pulls you close to him. You sigh happily as you let the jealous thoughts slowly dissolve away, but that doesn’t mean you forget about the incident.

A few days later, when you were doing laundry, you spotted his jacket again—the one that fuc—you mean, the other person—was wearing that time. You stared at it as you lifted it up from the basket, and instantly a whiff of perfume or cologne that you did not recognise got picked up by your nose. You frowned and glared at the jacket for a moment, seething in anger as you decided to toss it into the washer. After washing and drying it, you had an idea and opted to wear and keep it. Naw, this is my jacket now. You thought to yourself as you walked around the base with the jacket, a proud look clearly showing on your face as the jacket had a clearly huge "Soap" behind it.

Soap notices as he smirks and walks towards you, crossing his arm as he stands beside you. “Oi? Is that ma jacket?”, he says as he takes a good look at you, grinning ear to ear as he glances you up and down. He won’t lie, he never knew how good you looked wearing his stuff.

Your jacket? I have no idea what you’re talking about; it's mine now.

You replied back nonchalantly when you noticed that same person who was with Soap the other day staring at you from across the hall. You gave them a death glare as you turned and pulled Soap down by his collar, making him jolt forward as he gasped slightly at the sudden motion. You kept eye contact as you whispered to Soap.

Not only the jacket, but you’re mine as well

Your lips barely brush his ears slightly as Soap blushes and gives out a surprised laugh.

Well, well, well.

He replied back in a shocked tone as he watched the direction you were looking at before he gave an "ah" sound as he made the connection. He giggled as he stared back at you with a loving stare. “Hmm, didnae take yer a jealous one”, he says before holding you closer to him by the waist and kissing your forehead. Mmm, you give a grunt as you feign annoyance and glance away. He laughs as he nuzzles you close and gives you a hug. “Aw~ dun get mad at me, yer know I love ya, and only ya”, he kisses you on the neck softly to tickle you as you drop your frown and giggle at him to push him away playfully,

Oh fuck off, don't go all sappy on me now.

You roll your eyes as you try to wiggle your way out. “Nuh uh, I will show yer how much I love ya”, he says before he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp as you move around and let out a whine. MacTavish! Put me down this instant! You say it with a laugh as he smacks your ass and shakes his head as he walks towards his room.

“Nope, ah won't, you're going to get all the love you missed.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kyle Gaz Garrick

You wake up early after preparing yourself, walking slowly to the kitchen to carry out your routine. You like to start your day off with coffee, and on the other hand, Kyle likes to have tea in the morning. Jasmine tea with two teaspoons of sugar and some milk, just the way he likes it. So every morning for the past few months of dating, you always make sure to brew him his tea as well when you make coffee. You shuffle around the shelves as you look for his mug, being confused when you don't see it at the usual spot. You glance around before you hear Kyle speaking to someone on the other side of the place. You follow the voices and take a peek behind a wall as you watch him talk to someone with his mug in his hands already.

Hm, so he brewed it himself today? That’s odd, maybe because he woke up earlier.

You didn’t think much of it as you went back to the kitchen to make yourself a coffee and go on with your day.

The next day, you walk to the kitchen and find his mug, only to find it not there again. You frown as you try to rationalise your thoughts.

Okay, maybe he was in a hurry.

You think again as you shake those thoughts away and carry out your duties. But then it starts to bother you when the same thing happens again the next day and again for the following two days.

He never brought it up and neither one of you talked about it. You assume maybe you messed up the way you make his tea or maybe he changed his preference. But it still confuses you, and it hurts a little too; he could’ve told you if that's the case. However, something else is notable: he has been getting more headaches recently, and you’ve asked him about it.

Are you sure it's not something serious? How about going to the medical bay to check if everything’s alright?

No, no, it's fine; it's just stress.

You decided enough was enough as you woke up extra early today to question him in the kitchen about why he started making tea for himself. But then that's when you saw it—a figure that opened the top shelf and took his mug out. You recognise that person; it was one of the recruits Kyle has been speaking to lately. You immediately stepped forward and grabbed their hand as you spoke calmly.

What do you think you’re doing?

“Huh?”, The person gets caught off guard as they glance back at you, a frown forming on their face as they continue; it's almost as if they’re annoyed that they were stopped by you.

Erm, making coffee for my superior? Why? Because I can? So you’ve been doing this for the past few days? Yeah.

The recruit replied back with a proud look as they rested their hands on their hips, not hiding the fact that they were doing Gaz this favour for obvious reasons when the blush on their cheeks was prominent.

That’s when it clicked: he hasn’t been making tea himself, and the source of his headaches is because of this dumbass. Kyle can’t hold his caffeine; it always gives him a splitting headache. You also know how he has trouble rejecting kindness from others and has always kept silent about his actions. You sigh as you take the mug from the person.

Hey! What’s your problem? Give it ba-

You watch your tone.

Your sharp voice cuts through the air as you turn and stare down at them, leaning closer to the recruit as venom seeps out of your mouth.

Sergeant Gaz doesn’t take coffee; if you wanted to flirt with someone, at least be smart about it. Oh, wait, never mind about that... (You trail off as you firmly press your hand on their shoulder, gazing down as the recruit gulps and shivers nervously under your scrutiny.) You probably don’t even know he’s taken already; poor you. How did you end up here with such an empty head anyway? I thought everyone here was smart and observant; clearly, you’re not.

The recruit gasps as tears prick up in their corner, and they immediately falter and shamefully run away as you sigh.

Okay, maybe that was too far.

You mumbled before hearing something shuffling behind you. You felt your back warm up as Kyle hugged your shoulder from behind. You smile as you kiss his arm and stare up at him.

“I'm sorry; I should’ve told you about it.” His voice is a low whisper as you softly caress his arm soothingly. You know, you could’ve poured the coffee away or let me drink it. You speak gently as you slowly turn around to face him.

“I know, but I didn’t want to waste it or deny the coffee when someone had made it for me.” You sigh as you brush your hand on his cheek and continue.

Well, they won’t anymore, and only I will be the one making you tea from this day on. You give a smile when Kyle chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I’ll have to admit that watching you speak like that was pretty cool”, He said it with a smirk as you shook your head. Ah, so I wasn’t cool before? You tease him back as he quickly shakes his head and kisses your hands. “I didn’t say that.” He giggles as he sighs and rests his head on your shoulder. “Can you make me tea again? Just the way I like it?”, He whispers with a smile as you nod and kiss his cheek.

Always.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Simon Ghost Riley

It was one of the sparring sessions where Ghost and Soap were tasked with providing training and demonstrations to the new recruits. You decided to join and watch from the side and provide any needed assistance, but truthfully, you just wanted to watch Ghost. It's moments like these where you get to see him roll up his sleeves and flex his muscles. Sure, you get to see all of him whenever you’re in his bedroom, but watching him display himself confidently in public? That’s a different kind of look you will never get tired of.

The session went on normally, and most recruits were obedient and managed to replicate what Ghost and Soap have been demonstrating, with just a few slower soldiers that require more attention, which they supervise and guide on a one-to-one basis.

And there was this one recruit that Ghost has been teaching for some time now. You note how the recruit was standing slightly closer to him, and the way they looked at Ghost made you uneasy—not in a way that you think that person is going to hurt him, but in a way that you feel that the person has an ulterior motive. You don't miss the way the recruit brushed their hand across his arm, or how they were pressing their body against his in a way that was definitely unnecessary in the training, or how they deliberately messed up a step and let out that annoying giggle-

I'm overthinking.

You thought to yourself when you realised you were frowning and your hands were balled into a fist. You decided to step outside and take a breather as you tried to calm yourself. You sat on the bench alone as you breathed out and ran through your mind again.

Stop overthinking. They’re just training; Ghost is literally an adult. I don't have to fret over something like this, do I? Okay, what was that question? Of course I don't. Right, but why the hell did they stick so close anyway-

You drown in your own inner monologue as your eyebrows furrow, and you sigh again as you rest your head on your knees, all the while Ghost has been watching you at the corner.

He saw and noticed when you were staring just now. Well, you always do stare, and he likes it, but this time he felt your gaze was different, and from the way you stand with that tense shoulder and the way your hands were forming a fist, It didn't sit right with him, so he told Soap to take over the recruit, not even answering the "why" from the person as he quickly followed you when you left.

"Love…?" Ghost said as he cautiously stood behind you and looked down with a concerned expression, he watched as you glanced up and smiled at him.

That’s not a smile he knows.

Oh, hey Ghost! I'm just resting, don’t mind me.

"No, you’re not; I can see you thinking." Ghost replies back instantly as he takes a seat next to you and rubs your hands, softening his gaze as he leans in and rests his forehead on yours. "What is it, love?", Ghost asks as he takes in your demeanour. He watches as you clench your jaw and hold your breath, then glances away as you sigh, and then you look back at him again as you frown. He always likes observing you, and he can tell that you’re contemplating, so he gave your hand a squeeze to urge you to continue.

I just… I just didn't like how the recruit was acting around you; I don't know why.

You finally spit it out as you nervously grab his fingers and fiddle with them as you try to calm down. After saying it out loud, you do feel a little childish, and you don't know what his response will be either.

Ghost remained silent for a moment as he processed your words and thought back about the training. He did find the recruit slightly annoying because they’ve been deliberately repeating the same mistake over and over again, but he has not realised why they did so. Until now.

His thoughts click as he tilts his head slightly and looks back at you, now with a smirk growing as his mask shifts slightly.

"You’re jea-" No.

You cut him off as you turn away from him and face your back at him. He watches as redness forms at the tip of your ear. He chuckles as he leans in and rests his head on your head, kissing your hair slightly as he watches your pout which makes your cheeks get puffy.

Cute. So this is what you’re like when you’re jealous. He thought to himself before he raised his hand and pulled your cheek, causing you to gasp as you thrashed around.

What the-hey! Get off!

You complain back angrily as he does not stop and squishes your face after he pulls it a few more times. You protest more as you grab his hand until you can't help but giggle at him when you know he won’t stop.

Stop it! You’re going to make me have wrinkles!

He gives a soft huff of air as he shakes his head and grabs your right cheek with his thumb and index finger and bites it gently,

“I don't mind wrinkles”, he whispers as you let out a "hmph", grabbing his sleeve as you glare at him. He laughs again as he plants a kiss on the cheek he bit earlier.

I hate you.

I love you too.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: this is for all the Ghostie lovers out there to make up for the last fic <3 Im a firm believer that Ghost is silly in relationships, like come on man was putting out puns and jokes during the mission in the game! also bonus from my friends' reactions to Gaz's part:

Likes, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated Have a good day/night! :D

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lorata · 2 months ago

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I feel like the hitler youth vs regular gymnastics thing exactly encapsulates the point of your D2 series. People want to think that only an organisation that’s considered the embodiment of brainwashing and evil could produce child killers whereas it’s far more harrowing to accept that actually the educational tools we already use could be warped and used to turn children into child soldiers without anyone feeling they’re doing anything wrong. The point of the HG and particularly of the careers is how normal people can be warped / how the capital can be fine with the hunger games and careers can be trained to win and everyone forgets who the enemy is and it’s that idea that’s carried in the centre being modelled on institutions that we currently have accept and wouldn’t even consider fundamentally evil sorry for the long ramble but just love the series

🙌🏻

i want to print this out and tape it to my mirror. i want to pin it to the top of this blog. you and i are prancing through the daisy fields our minds are in sync this is exactly my point

i am an educator and i think that's why it's very easy for me to write this angle, not just in the terms of like ...... taking how i do things from a Not Evil POV irl and twisting it to make it Dystopian, but also constantly thinking critically and reflecting and quite often calling out the system that we are actually in right now. like yes lol sometimes when i'm dealing with a kiddo i have the tiny Career Trainer voice in my head like, and this is what i'd do if i wanted to make them a child murderer and i do the opposite of that, and that's kind of funny, but also even in normal every day life i have to be very aware of power dynamics and racism and propaganda and all the harmful stuff that is constantly perpetuated by the system AND CATCH MYSELF AS WELL like this is ongoing work!

a tangential point to this is how many people point to high fashion / couture as being emblematic of the capitol but forget the other very clear parallel which is professional sports -- the panopticon, the sense of ownership over athletes' bodies/lives, the constant escalation of expectations / entertainment to the point where athletes need to do drugs and/or injure themselves in order to consistently innovate and excite audiences, traumatic brain injuries and death, racism, TBI and its links to erratic behaviour / assault / etc

i could write a LOT more about propaganda in education but i'm going to restrain myself, so suffice to say that you're right. the whole point of the hunger games is that it's about us, it's always been about us, we're the victims in the story AND we're the perpetrators and we're meant to examine ourselves and our choices and see how we are complicit and how we can be better

sometimes my careers worldbuilding is about the armed forces recruitment vans that would park behind our school and we had to walk through listening to the spiel every year

sometimes it's about how i did TKD and one time an 8yo boy broke his arm in a bad block and everyone praised him for not crying and when his dad came he said "i'm gonna go to the adult class and then i'll take you to the hospital, okay buddy?"

and sometimes it's a bunch of other things in the general miasma of growing up in a conservative rural town during the gulf war and 9/11

but yeah. it's not about hitler. it doesn't need to be

#lorata answers #anonymous #we must be killers: tales from district 2

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m1ckeyb3rry · 21 days ago

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fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five of your other fave writers. spread the self-love!

thank you for tagging me @suguwu sorry this took me a sec to get to!! i have been cooking it up in my mind though !! hehe

Threefold | Honkai Star Rail — Mydei

When the husband you’ve never met returns from the war you’ve never understood, he comes bearing a strange and inexplicable gift — a prince in chains who he refuses to kill.

notes: this is my most recent project ergo i am the happiest with it atm HAHA i think my prose is at its strongest here!! honestly the idea for the plot really came to me in a vision…the image of mydeimos as the reluctant prisoner appeared so clearly to me that i had no choice but to build entire world to make it a reality!! (although in terms of world building i have done the bare minimum i feel LMAO very fast and loose fs) even though i haven’t met him in-game yet hehe he’s just very handsome yk haunts my waking hours and whatnot

Seabird | Blue Lock — Sae Itoshi

Thanks to a chance encounter on the beach, you spend your vacation trying to apologize to the famous soccer player you inadvertently offended. Unfortunately, Sae Itoshi has other plans.

notes: i feel like i would be remiss if i didn’t mention seabird!! this one was so much fun to write if only because reader and sae had the funniest dynamic i think i’ve ever written. they are so hater4hater and all of their conversations (plus the little brother’s snarky asides) had me giggling as i came up with them. i think in terms of prose it’s definitely a lot more functional compared to like threefold but that kind of lends it that silliness and charm?? so i still love it HAHA

Hierophant | Honkai Star Rail — Sunday

Sunday is your mirror, as you are his — or, how meeting him spells your doom, just like losing you spells his.

notes: did i know anything about sunday when i wrote this?? debatable (it was a birthday gift). forget about robin LMAOO this is definitely THE most ooc oak siblings you will ever see but i enjoyed it making it regardless!! it’s a 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓭𝓪𝔂 fic more than anything and very speculative/open to interpretation in its entirety which is what i was hoping to get across hehe like i have my ideas for what i think happened but truly it’s not clear at all and it was fun withholding everything LFKDJD if that makes sense…coming up with the differences between halovians and humans as well as writing sunday’s slow deterioration and eventual breakdown was very fun for me!! i also loved switching between past tense and present tense for the different povs hehe it was a fun exercise writing-wise as well!!

The Instrument | Blue Lock — Michael Kaiser

Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.

notes: yes my opp michael kaiser is making an appearance here because unfortunately i actually do really love this piece LMAO i am not as much a fan of the part two because i only wrote it upon popular demand (i prefer leaving things open-ended) but part one i do by and large enjoy!! this was my first time ever writing in the present tense and i loveddd it HAHA it really unlocks a different style and vibe of writing for me so although i don’t always use it i def do like pulling it out every now and again which i wouldn’t have learned i can do without the instrument!!

Polar | Blue Lock — Nagi-Centric Genfic

This time, when Seishiro Nagi’s talent at soccer is discovered, it’s by a boy named Oliver Aiku — which goes about as well as you’d expect it to.

notes: this one is definitely a crazy one to put on here given that this is a genfic and i am a reader insert author but. i LOVE polar LMAOAOAO it was born of a silly conversation i had with one of my friends (jei if you’re seeing this hi) but it ended up being over 20k words of nagi character study in an au where he’s found by oliver instead of reo!! i love writing it hehe i think this is the proof nagi is my fav because like writing a genfic from a character’s pov is smth i’ve never done before and probs never will do again. but it was a blast at the time!!

no-pressure tagging: @luvether @loverducky @mewnbuns @kazucee @veraties (if any of you were tagged already i am sorry 🥹 i tried switching up who i tag too so i hope you all are okay with it please lmk if not so ik for next time 💖)

#AHH THIS WAS FUN PICKING FIVE WAS TOUGH!!#pomegranate ink honorary mention for sure these works are just more recent so they just feel stronger to me #m’s thoughts

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anartificialsatellite · 1 month ago

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Re: 23andme. Not adding to the post because I think that addition stands very well on its own and deserves to.

There's lots of reasons people might want to know their genetic background and I think the condescending attitudes about it kind of suck, and I'm glad someone said something. I never did 23andme, but I really wanted to.

There's old-school closed adoption, unknown paternity, and estrangement in my family history, to name only a few things that keep me from knowing a whole lot about where we came from. And that's to say nothing of the genocide, displacement, and other horrors that exist in many other people's backgrounds.

Yes, the terms people signed were clear about this situation, but I think it's more reasonable to assume that people saw it as a justifiable risk to be able to learn this information about themselves, rather than just assuming everyone was curious and too stupid to know better.

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tonythr · 1 year ago

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The Watcher's telescope view is a social commentary and here's why

Ok so let's set some things right first. City of Tears is amazing.

(Yes, Pale Court is also an amazing mod)

I've played Hollow Knight many times, and City of Tears is probably the one location I never get tired of. The scenery, the lore, the room layout, the music, the atmosphere - it's all perfect. It's the culmination of Halllownest's beauty, the peak of the game's art style, and the narrative's most essential location. City of Tears is the heart of Hollow Knight.

This game is a story about a Kingdom and its death, a tragedy of a society that was built on dreams of light but ultimately was consumed by the light so much that darkness became its only hope. And City of Tears stands at the center of this story. So it's fitting that the themes of corrupted dreams, society flaws, and dark hopes are what shape the lore and atmosphere of this beautiful, gorgeous location.

Did you ever notice that the tears of this Kingdom are dark despite them originating in a glowing blue lake, and the waters that flood the streets are almost as dark as the void in the Abyss? Do you ever think about how the vibrant blue color of the City is basically a culmination of how the color blue is presented in other locations (Howling Cliffs, Forgotten Crossroads, and later Royal Waterways being more of a remix of it), and how it's tied to the very essence of Hallownest (and how Resting Grounds, the location that contains Blue Lake and also uses a bright blue color, represent the very foundation of Hallownest's history, that being Seer's story about the Moth Tribe's betrayal that started the war between Pale King and the Radiance)? Do you feel like Soul Master basically represents the thunder and the lightning in this never-ending rain? Do you get it????

Anyway yeah, there are many things that can be said about City of Tears, and this is hopefully not the last time I make a post about it. What I want to talk about here is the City's society.

Basically, Monomon said it better than anyone could:

It's a very complicated topic. The narrative basically explores the inner mechanisms of a free mind, how its primary need is finding a purpose, and how its purpose turns out to be a constant need of... something. Anything. As long as there is something to want, a free mind will want it. As long as there is something to yearn for, something to enjoy, something to dream about, our minds are going to move in its direction, never wanting to stop. Because a stasis is worse than death. Because a world without dreams is an empty world.

But then again, isn't constant yearning another instance of, well, constance? If dreams never end but also never evolve, doesn't that create another kind of stasis?

Like I said, it's very complicated. Let's go back to what I was getting at in the first place. What I actually wanted to say is this:

Theese guys fucking fucked up as a society.

It's classic dystopian shit (or maybe I'm using the wrong word, but you get the point). Rich people are living in luxury while the rest are suffering. They're making gold a fucking religion and are seeing it as the only beauty in the world. The corrupt upper class are using heavy gatekeeping on the lower class.

Literally.

What's interesting is that, at first, we barely see any lower class bugs in the City. There's suspiciously few regular husks in this location, compared to how many rich guys are on the eastern side. But then we get to Soul Sanctum and it all starts to make sense.

There are no red cloaks in those corpse piles. Only the poor were killed for those experiments. It can't be a coincidence. It's straight-up elitism-based genocide (again, I don't know if I'm using the right terms, correct me if there's a better way to say that, but the point is clear).

Also, see how many streets are flooded on the western side in comparison to the eastern side.

Point is, the bugs that ruined the kingdom by always wanting more (what Monomon wrote about) are most likely theese rich ones. It's a very fitting thing for this dystopian narrative: neverending greed that leads to the downfall of a civilization.

There's a note in the Hunter's Journal that describes it in the best way possible:

For every location in the game, there is a place that functions as the center of its essence, its narrative heart, the culmination of its themes. For Queen's Gardens it's the White Lady's cocoon, for Greenpath it's the Lake of Unn, and for City of Tears (or at least its eastern part, the one with the upper class) it's the Watcher's Spire. The tallest building of the great capital. The home of (evidently) the most rich and influential bug of the City's high society. Literally the top of this social hierarchy.

He is also arguably the most mysterious dreamer out of all three. I mean, why does he have only one eye? What type of bug is he? How did he get this much power? Does he really have some kind of connection with the Collector? Is he a motherfucking fluke? Why does he seem to have an obsession with serving the King?

That last question is kinda answered by the cut content though.

That last sentence is kinda confusing. Is it regret? Is it humility? Is it pride in his sacrifice? In any case, here we see that Lurien actually knew that the Pale King was literally a god, and desired to worship him, like any other bug yearns to worship some kind of deity. So while other bugs of Hallownest worshiped PK because he was a monarch, albeit a godlike one (for all they knew he could be just an extraordinary bug, but a bug nonetheless), Lurien worshiped him as an actual god. And the intricacies of worshiping a god are one of the central themes of the game. From the moth tribe's betrayal of Radiance leading to the birth of the Infection to the Godseeker's shenanigans leading to the birth of the Shade Lord - the game makes multiple statements about gods, religious devotion and the semantics of divine power. Just that one idea that a god takes its power from the ones that worship it deserves its own post - heck, it deserves its own book.

So yeah, Lurien's devotion to the King is an important part of the story. He sure is an important character in this narrative. He also got a cool house. Being able to observe the entirety of the Hallownest's capital is badass.

But there's one thing I find odd about all that, and it's the moment we get to actually look through his legendary telescope.

Is it just me, or does this feel kinda... Underwhelming? Almost disappointing? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love this view, it's beautiful, and I would certainly love to be able to see something like this with my own eyes irl, but, looking at this picture, I can't help but wonder...

Did he actually see anything from up there?

In cut dialogue, Lurien talks about how he loves the City's streets, and his hidden lore tablet contains words about his love for bugkind, but... I see neither any streets on this image, nor any bugs (that are not vengeflies). Only spiked rooftops and rainy fog, clouding the view of the actual City.

And sure, the Spire has many windows and even had multiple watchers who were helping Lurien with overseeing the capital...

But his own spot was always this one.

His telescope was sealed in one place, letting him see only a small portion of the City and its life. Almost like his own worldview was stuck in one perspective.

Notice the wording here. It's not "The Seals must remain". It's "Bonds must remain". He's not thinking just about the Seals containing the Infection. He's thinking about the whole Kingdom needing to stay unchanged. His dream is the stasis that the Knight (and also Monomon, Hornet and, in a sense, even Radiance) want to end. The stasis that the Pale King wanted to create in order for his Kingdom (and therefore himself) to be eternal. The stasis that would allow for both Pale King and Lurien's worship of him to remain forever.

But there is always a cost to ascending higher than others, and it's that you can no longer see what's going on below or who's suffering down there. I think Lurien, sitting atop the tallest tower, was actually detached from the struggles of regular bugs. He and his Spire are the culmination of the City's upper class' ignorance towards the ones who were below them on the social hierarchy. A dreamer who dreamt of watching over the very heart of the holy civilization lived so high up he could no longer see his beloved world in its complicated, detailed entirety – and the tears of the stasis created by those like him only blinded him more.

All those flooded streets, those broken buildings, those empty halls, those starving bugs, those sealed doors - even though he watched over them, he couldn't see them.

I'm pretty sure Lurien didn't even know about the Soul Master's experiments, despite the fact that the Soul Sanctum was located right next to his Spire.

Or maybe he knew but chose to turn a blind eye to it (pun intended).

But it's kind of poetic, isn't it? It's the beauty of the tragedy of this game's characters. A Beast who had to surrender everything to the opposing civilization. A Teacher who could no longer teach. A Watcher who couldn't see the truth.

And all that makes me wonder... How much suffering could the Pale King see, standing on that platform at the top of the Abyss, facing away from the pit where his children died?

TL;DR: Lurien's point of view was too high up to actually see what was truly going on down there, both literally and metaphorically. His desire to worship the Pale King made him ignorant of the struggles of regular bugs. Similarly, the extreme elitism of the high society of Hallownest lead to ignorance, discrimination and greed, which ultimately caused the sprawl of the Infection. This side of Lurien's story might also parallel the Pale King's with his ignorance towards the discarded vessels.

TL;DR²: Eat the rich

#hollow knight #hollow knight theory #hollow knight lore #lurien the watcher #city of tears #hallownest #pale king #monomon the teacher #soul master #character analysis #social commentary

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