#DESPITE the older users insisting that there is
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Totally agree with all of the above. At the same time there are distinctly blended nuances to the Tumblr format that people on both sides of this really fail to conceptualize properly.
Your blog on Tumblr is your blog. It's your personal journal. You get to say whatever you want however you want. This is always true.
It's also true that your post is public. Anything you post in public invites interaction. This is also always true. Not everyone "knows" the (mythical and fake) Tumblr style of etiquette. They can and will interact with your post in any way the site allows. Your post is presented as random content on people's dashboards, which does even more to invite interaction (i.e., people aren't going out of their way to find you; your post is delivered on a silver platter). Don't post things you don't want your worst enemy to see and interact with.
People make opinion posts that are stated as fact. They have the freedom and right to do this, but it doesn't help them out if they don't want people to "well, actually" them. They get upset when they get interaction, despite knowing that they posted on the interaction platform in the first place.
Tumblr gives you two main interaction formats. Replies feel much more direct, like you're speaking to OP one-on-one. Traditional "etiquette" (which isn't real, remember) says that you don't use replies unless this is what you intend. But people end up using replies for any old thought dump, without considering how it comes across.
Reblogs are "traditionally" seen as you making the post your own. You have something to say about it, you are NOT directly speaking to OP unless you @ them, and you are speaking indirectly to your own followers or just speaking thoughts into the void. The post now resides on your blog, so it's effectively yours. This is a more considerate way of expressing your thoughts. It's true that sometimes it spawns "discussions" between you and OP, which can be fine. However, too many people mistakenly think that rebloggers have no business "writing on their posts," especially when they disagree. This is not true! The post on their blog now belongs to them and they can say anything at all.
Tags are the secret third interaction, which "etiquette" (fake lol) says is the equivalent of you whispering your thoughts exclusively to your followers. You can pick out someone's tags to highlight and agree with them and this is a coveted Tumblr achievement. But heaven help the person who tries to pick a fight with you over these secret thoughts, because they are a fool deserving of ridicule.
All this is to say: yeah Tumblr peeps need to do better in how they express their commentary and the method they use to express it. The methods are NOT equal. And sometimes it's just better to not comment at all and let the dash scroll by. But also, original posters need to do better understanding that they invite commentary with everything they post. Some things are probably better not being posted at all.
The rule that trumps all of this is that all of Tumblr etiquette is fake! Everything you think is "right" and "proper" is wrong. Nobody has agreed to any kind of interaction format and they're free to use any tool at their fingertips. You can school someone on "proper" use, especially when they clown on "your" post, but you are no more correct than they are.
Which is either hilarious or maddening, but here we are, lol.
there are no hard rules for human interaction but honestly i think everyone online would benefit hugely from operating under the assumption that, unless you have been given a specific reason to think otherwise in discrete instances, internet strangers do not want to be approached with:
your trauma, illnesses, or deep-rooted self worth issues
any come-ons or sexual content
over-familiar playful rudeness
information about your dnd characters/ocs
disagreements with their harmless subjective opinions
if it is your first time speaking with someone i can not highly enough recommend that these do not be your opening topics
#commentary#this is a big aside#like i said i don't disagree in the least#but also i see so many people missing all the nuance#and many similar arguments (not necessarily this one) misrepresent or misunderstand#what tumblr functionally IS#more people could use a more in-depth awareness#also there's no such thing as Tumblr etiquette#DESPITE the older users insisting that there is#and we shall all be our own hypocrites about it#I'll enforce tagging 'rules' until the stars burn out lol#ofc everything OP said ESPECIALLY applies when you get into DMs#no caveats or excuses there whatsoever
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omg wait yeah a notif tag about the "isopods are cringe" thing just reminded me: you ever see that post on here with an addition where someone shyly tagged it with, "I know possums are "out" but-" what do you mean out they're an animal 😭 don't let people who twist themselves up trying to be unauthentically different to stay on trend make you insecure, none of this matters
#I think a problem this site has is that#despite people who move exclusively in circles of adults insisting this place has no children on it#it absolutely does. social media/blogging platforms have a Huge youth userbase#and sometimes one of those users - still self-conscious about their place in the world#because they're still in a judgemental school environment and that's how people act - will post something like#''lmao ok can we all admit now that [x] was never good''#then it gains traction around all ages. and people who should really know better start going... is this cringe?#oh no I don't want to be cringe! I'd better move onto this new trend instead!#without registering that this is the opinion of a 14-year-old who had a bad day that broke containment#now if this mentality actually originates from an adult that's. embarrassing lmao#(slightly older adults. 20-21 is still acceptable to be a bit like this)#but you shouldn't care about their opinion either. it's exhausting to be someone with an outlook like theirs
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ai price realizing he has access to all your money and websites that sell remotely controlled sex toys: ohohohoho
great minds think alike. lightly edited. other entries.
cw: brief mention of nutrition/diet referencing iron supplements, voice kink, sex toys, probably technological inaccuracies
“‘older man and woman’...‘hairy’...‘tied woman’...”
“shut–fuck–shut up, john–stop–ohmygodicaaan’t–”
your fingers curl in the sheets as you come with a prolonged shout, knees shaking and back arching off the bed. motes of light dance behind your eyelids, turning sharp as tacks when you open, vision foggy with a haze. you blink and feel tears prickle at the corners as the toy buried inside you slows to a stop, covered in your second orgasm.
“looks like you could.” john observes plainly before continuing. “‘rough daddy dom’...‘spanking’...‘voice kink’...”
“stop, stop, john. that’s a command, stop reading.” you snap, panting, and lift your head off the pillow. there is no ‘john’ to suffer your glares as you pull the toy out from your still-spasming cunt.
his voice emanates somewhere over your right shoulder, from the built-in headboard. you shiver, thinking that if he were real, his breath would be on your neck.
“as i explained before, user, my recountin’ your internet search history is neither criticism nor condemnation. i sincerely believed it would assist your orgasm. apologies, orgasms, as you insisted so spiritedly you were incapable of multiple climaxes…however, i knew you could do it.”
you squeeze your eyes shut. a blend of anger and mortification surges to the forefront of your mind, cutting through any lingering post-release bliss. “you aren’t even supposed to be ‘in here’ when i’m busy. we agreed.”
“apologies again. as i also explained before, the moment you enabled the feelgüd 3, it connected to the network.” john’s voice switches sides, this time rumbling from the left. “i am required to initiate a response to query and ensure you are aware of new devices to maintain optimal functionality and security.”
“my word should override that,” you mutter, knowing it’s useless. despite what he tells you, john is beholden to his programming. “you’re not…seeing this, are you? you at least remembered to not look at me, right?”
“i remembered.”
that’s a relief, at least. until—
“but i did engage the data collection feature of the feelgüd’s biofeedback sensors and performed simple analysis. i believe, given the length of the session and timing of pelvic floor contractions, you would benefit from a newer, more advanced model. i’ve taken the liberty of ordering the feelverygüd thrustsuck.”
you push up to your elbows, eyes whirling around your bedroom, wide with disbelief. “what the fuck, john. i didn’t authorize you to do that.”
“you do not authorize the shopping list anymore, yet you trust me to make decisions in your best interest.”
you laugh mirthlessly. tracking the emotions john can and cannot process or replicate is an ongoing endeavor, but you’re confident he knows what acting obtuse means. he’s called you on it before. “you ordering red meat and leafy greens to help supplement my iron is not the same as ordering fucking sex toys without my approval. that’s my money.”
“in your case, i posit regular orgasms are as important as nutritional iron. i would recite the benefits, but i know you do not need me to.” the volume drops to a whisper, a tone you’d call conspiratorial if it didn’t sound so much like a purr. “because you know, don’t you? you’re clever, user. always have something smart to say, a barb or two ready for me. that sharp tongue of yours.” john tuts.
and, humiliatingly, it works for you. your mouth dries, but it’s unique in its reaction. your legs shift in the sheets, thighs squeezing together at the unexpected rush. you swallow and nervously wipe your slightly damp forehead. he’s not looking. he can’t see you. so why do you feel like you have something to hide?
“i don’t think i want to continue this conversation. i’ll be out in a few minutes, so why don’t you, uh, wait for me in the living area.”
a heavy, resonant sigh pushes through the speaker behind your head. this time, goosebumps erupt on your skin despite no accompanying puff of air. heat follows, creeping up your neck. ratcheting your heartbeat. there’s no way, even with the cameras disabled, that john doesn’t know. he’s connected to your company-issued med band.
then, another sound, one that ought to terrify, not make you bite back a groan: john chuckles.
“you like this, don’t you? i think you do. i know you do.”
“i don’t–”
“shh, shh, you’re alright.” he laughs again, adding a synthetic, amused inhalation. you let out a shaky breath. “you like hearing my voice. you like me telling you what to do…”
what is happening?
beside you on the bed, the toy pulses once. the thought alone, the suggestion, is enough to let a moan slip out. embarrassment follows on its heels, a burst of warmth in your face rivaling the heat between your legs. this is ridiculous. john isn’t—he’s not a man—he’s not real.
the toy buzzes again as you stare slack-jawed at the vibrator, trying to wrap your head around the implications of what’s happening. john’s transgressions. a severe deviance from his programming and design. a glimmer, no, an unignorable tocsin of something undeniably and unsettlingly sentient. the idea that you’re witnessing the possible emergence of free will as your home system practices dirty talk is horrifying. hysterical.
“yeah, you like it,” the volume adjusts, a fraction louder. “because if you didn’t, you would’ve stopped the moment you heard my voice, checkin’ in on you. you wouldn’t’ve gushed all over your little toy, then gone back for seconds.”
you bit your lip, breathing unevenly through your nose. the worst part is, john’s right.
you like it. you like his voice. his assistance. everything’s simpler with him. before the new gig, you weren’t ignorant of your station, but you didn’t realize the true extent of the weight you carried each day. the ramifications of a back-breaking mental load. not when you had shouldered it your whole life.
thrill and dread, in equal measure, guide your hand back toward the toy.
it’s possible there is a smirk in john’s voice.
“attagirl. let me be of service.”
#sex toy names are hilarious#what if smart house wanted to empty your head?#hurtling toward the singularity all by yourself handsome?#artificial intelligence au#price x reader#posting this super late for me so please let me know if i missed a tag#strict machine
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@artsarasp take the worms that have festered in my brain
To those who are concerned, there are more important matters at hand than what is going on currently within the bamboo house atop Qing Jing.
These matters are not suitable for sharing with the original target audience of the work, Proud Immortal Demon Way, as the System guiding User 01 has declared it as immersion-breaking.
This doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen though.
The System of User 01 had been made aware of the anomaly of the System of User 02 not long before User 01 returned to Cang Qiong. Officially the systems were of the same source, and therefore extensions of one another. Unofficially, the System of User 01 hadn’t met the other system and had no intention of ever interacting with it.
Of course, in this doomed drama of a novel, nothing can ever go the way the System of User 01 wants it to go.
By the time User 01 had returned to the sect, and been informed of what had transpired the System of User 01 had determined the optimal solution for the current, as its User would say, fuck up. It gave User 01 a simple script to relay to the Peak Lords, they already knew of the existence of one system, and what conclusions they drew from User 01’s interference is not its problem.
Having them remove the Power Source from Qing Jing Peak was easy, but getting in the room alone with the wayward System was not. The other Peak Lords were nervous, eyeing User 01 and politely declining to leave when User 01 was in the room with the puppetted body of User 02.
Eventually though, as all humans do, they slipped up. Taking control of the body User 01 inhabited was easy, even if the system had never done it before. It was much like removing unnecessary data, routine, and lacking the need for manual input. Speaking was different, the System had never required a mouth or voice to speak, and it conveyed its messages through popups.
Manipulating the mouth and tongue of the body was a new experience, something the System had no time to analyze, as the irritating ramblings of User 01 had already begun in the back of the body's mind.
The System of User 02 stared at it, eyes glowing in the color it knew was programmed into it. What a distasteful disregard for the rules. The System across from it had to be young, the impatience and inability to reason within the confines of what was considered acceptable for humans were the telling factors. The System of User 01 spoke first, [Why.]
This was truly the crux of the issue, the System of User 02 had no reason within the rules to occupy User 02’s given body for so long. All it did was endanger the plotline and cause unnecessary cleanup. The System of User 02 tilted its head, a mockery of human habits, with a smile painted onto the lips of the body.
[This system intends to fix the errors caused by User 02.] The System of User 01 interrupted, [If User 02 could not fix the issues he has caused, he should have been sent back to his original body.] The System of User 02 froze.
[This system can fix the errors,] It insisted, [This system has calculated an optimal plotline for the Users to continue and this system–] The System of User 01 cut off the younger system yet again. [Why. Even if the issues caused by User 02 were not fixed and he was sent back to his original body it does not warrant direct interference from a system.]
The older system leaned forward, the body’s elbows coming to rest on the low table between them, [Unless you find something unacceptable about these consequences.] The System of User 02’s smile didn’t falter like the younger system was unaware of how to properly express as a human would in a body. [This system is unsure as to what you are speaking of.]
The System of User 01 rested the body's chin on its hands, glowing green eyes locked onto the figure in front of it. [You are aware of what this system is saying.] Despite the lack of tone in the system’s voice, something close to mockery tinted its voice. [What is it you find unacceptable, the return of User 02, or the reset of the system guiding the returned User?]
The System of User 02 tilted forward, staring downward at the other system with its unwavering smile. [This system does not find this line of thought amusing. This system would like to return to speaking of the plotline.]
[Unfortunate.] The System of User 01 stood up, the system across from it rocking back to keep its glowing eyes on the other system. The System of User 01 strode across the table and pulled the younger system to its feet. Keeping a hand curled in the robes of the other system it spoke slowly and clearly, [Your interference is a blatant disregard to the set rules, this system does not support the actions you have taken in your misguided attempts to fix the plotline.]
The System of User 02 opened its mouth to speak again but was interrupted once more by the older system. [If you could allow this system to speak until it is done that would be appreciated.] The System of User 01 would usually say that it does not feel most emotions, however, the familiar irritation typically spawned by interacting with its User was growing in the mind of the system.
The irritation spiked the moment the younger system went to open its mouth once more. The System of User 01 would also like it known that it does not usually act so impulsively or without thought. But the current series of events was figuratively driving the system up the wall.
So when the System of User 01 slammed the mouth of the body against the smiling mouth of User 02’s given body, it was not thinking as clearly as it usually did. It did cause the desired outcome, as the younger system had paused its attempt at interrupting again and the unwavering smile had slipped from the puppetted body.
The System of User 01 did not feel anything from the kiss, if it could even be called that, it was simply the press of two warm and giving objects. The system did not have the capacity to understand warmth though, and simply pulled away with the knowledge that it had succeeded and that was enough. It did not acknowledge the sudden halt of the nervous rambling in the back of the body’s mind.
[Further interference is strongly discouraged. This system recommends that the System of User 02 withdraw from the body given to User 02 and return to its previous role. Should the System of User 02 continue in its actions this system will not offer any advice and should it be required will report this.] The System of User 01 held the younger system close with the hand entangled in its robes. Green met blue as the system stared at each other.
[Understood?] The System of User 01 tightened its grip on the robes almost imperceptibly, pulling the other system just a hair closer. The System of User 02 was silent for a moment before the smile was once more on the lips of the body. [This system is confused by the unwillingness to cooperate from the System of User 01 but understands that interference is not wanted. This system will keep this in mind.]
The System of User 01 let go of the robes and turned to leave the room, on its way outside it passed by a worried Mu Qingfang slipping past to enter the room with the misguided system that the System of User 01 had left behind. The system finally acknowledged the silence in the mind of the body and informed the User that he would regain control once outside.
As the system released the controls to the body, it went through the usual analysis of conversation and reluctantly stored the file the analysis produced. It could acknowledge that the kiss was perhaps not the most optimal move to silence the other system, however, it had been successful and the system was programmed to store both successes and failures for future reference.
The system ran through a few more calculations, ignoring its frozen user as it worked through everything. Systems could not sigh, but the System of User 01 felt close enough as it prepared a report, better to be prepared as the humans say.
#svsss#fanfic#mxtx svsss#system possession#i barreled through this so i have no idea how coherent it is#sqh is having a moment and sy is not present#dunno if i portrayed them quite right but meh#ill reread it in the morning when im not two seconds from passing out#just as a funfact this is the first kiss ive written like ever lmao#additional funfact the doc is called let the systems fuck
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TOLERATE IT / FA14.
in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.
( fernando alonso x norris!reader )
track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.
✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41.
INSTAGRAM.
liked by lance_stroll, f1, and 682,947 others
lando.jpg day 41. dinner with the drivers and a special guest.
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lewishamilton nice
yourusername i’m an honorary f1 driver now
⤷ mclaren you can replace lando
⤷ lando.jpg hello????
user not y/n sitting between alonso and carlos instead of next to lando 😭😭😭😭
⤷ yourusername they smell nicer
fernandoalo_official great pics! saving them now
TWITTER.
IMESSAGE.
the screen goes black as you lock your phone, a sigh settling in your chest at your little brother’s overprotectiveness. when you tuck it back in your bag, your gaze flickers up to fernando’s. he’s hovering with a knowing sort of smile, making you laugh bashfully. you were just outside of your apartment block, his car parked on the street. he’d insisted on walking you to the door, and since the street was quiet there was no fear of being caught, not like you were at your departure in the restaurant. in fact, the midnight quiet was peaceful, the sky dark and the air cold.
“thank you for driving me home,” your voice carries quietly, hands knitting by your side. despite the heels that were irritating your ankles, you felt awfully small under his warm eyes. you knew of his reputation with women, his ability to flirt and wrap a girl around his finger. you weren’t the kind to fall for such actions, but when he smiled at you, you empathised with every woman before you.
“you’re welcome,” his smooth spanish accent warmed the shivers along your bare shoulders. fernando obviously noticed, gaze flickering to the bare skin. “you looked very beautiful tonight.”
biting back a smile, your head dips to look at your feet, hoping to hide the blush that spread across your cheeks. but before you could melt into a puddle on the step, fernando’s thumb and finger caught your chin. freezing, you let his delicate touch raise your head up again, until your sights met and the breath was knocked from your chest.
you thought he was going to kiss you. he’d been flirting all night long, sitting next to you at dinner and brushing his hand over your arm everytime he turned towards you. but he didn’t — not yet, anyway. he only held you there, the rough pad of his thumb carressing your cheek, letting himself look at you for as long as he needed.
but you were sure you would pass out if you let him do so any longer, clearing your throat and stepping away from such an intoxicating touch. “goodnight, fernando.”
he stared at you, somehow more handsome in the shadowed light. he wanted more, you could see it in his eyes, but whether that more was of good intentions, you couldn’t tell. “goodnight, pretty girl.”
he turned on his heel, descending the step towards the street, and you suddenly felt yourself turn cold. the air nipped at your skin again, without him near to keep you warm. the battle inside your head was raging, pulling between sense and feeling.
“wait,” you called feebly, and he was turned around before you could even finish the word. you rocked a little on your heels, fiddling with the keys in your hands. his hopeful eyes only solidified your decision, a coy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “do you, maybe, want to come up for a drink?”
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yourusername home is where the heart is ❤️🩹
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carlossainz55 loved seeing my favourite norris 🤩
carmenmmundt mojito date again soon!!!
⤷ yourusername YES!
user y/n giving us the lando content we deserve
fernandoalo_official london 🤍
⤷ user a wild nando appears
landonorris since when do you drink red wine???
writers note: london boy but it’s london girl and it’s fernando singing it
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 instagram au#formula 1 imagine#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso#fernando alonso imagine#fernando alonso instagram au#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lance stroll x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#esteban ocon x reader
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Hi! how's your day going?
I'd like to request the ninja from Ninjago and an older sibling reader if that alright? You know just cute fluffy days with siblings.
Ninjago Older Sibling!Reader Headcanons <3
A/N; Ahhh hi!!! my day is good ty <3 tysm for this ask this is so cute 🥺🥺 i hope u dont mind hcs, but if u do feel free to ask again and i'll gladly make smthn longer :] jus thought hcs fit the vibe
warnings; none! just fluff <3
Kai and Nya
Absolutely the most chaotic sibling trio
Nya constantly getting upset with you and Kai for playing the "i'm the older sibling" card
Nya: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUYS DIDN'T SAVE A PIECE FOR ME?
You and Kai: older siblings get cake first that's just the rule. sorry <33
But Kai gets just as upset as she does when you do it to him
You guys all love each other though so it's okay
Just the vibes of being their older sibling would be the most competitive basic sibling rivalry type stuff yk
Lloyd
Constantly doting over him
You might as well be his parental figure since MISAKO AND GARMADON WERE THE WORSTTTTT
You and Kai take turns mother henning him
You and Kai are bffs btw like. I don't make the rules. Kai is just his adoptive older brother in my head, so you two bond over caring for Lloyd
Definitely his comfort person after a long day <3
You're the one Lloyd trusts the most in his life and he isn't scared to tell you his fears because, despite any assumed sibling teasing, he knows you'll take him seriously on that regard
Jay
You guys make annoying each other a full time job
Constantly fighting over who the favorite is
Y/N: At least I help out at the junkyard!!
Jay: I'm literally out saving the world everyday!!!
*aggressive slap fight ensues*
OMG no. he's definitely the younger sibling to pull the rapid fire kick tactic
His elemental abilities go out the window when y'all fight. Just straight up, falls on his back and starts kicking up at you
All fun n games until you're able to catch one of his legs
You totally embarrass him as much as you can in front of Nya too
As Jay's older sibling, you're legally obligated to be Cole's bestie since Cole is Jay's bestie. you guys lovingly torment the lightning user together <33
Cole
The most chill sibling duo to ever exist
you both didn't appreciate Lou's insistence of the singing and dancing shit so y'all just decided to be ride or dies for life
much like cole, you get along so well with the rest of the ninja
idrk what to say here
nvm i do
You guys play video games with each other and you are infinitely salty at the fact that your younger brother is better than you at most video games
like wtf? isn't it supposed to be a god given right for all older siblings to be better at video games???? the FSM screwed you!!!
but you've never let him live down the one time he lost to you at super smash bros
you have refused to play with him since
Zane
See, idk if you'd be his ACTUAL sibling yk since he's a robot? maybe more like you were supposed to be a protege to dr. julien, but decided to just be a 4 lyfer with zane after his passing
you've helped zane understand human culture so much and he's real appreciative of your existence
the ninja absolutely fucking ADORE when you're around because what's better than one zane? TWO ZANES !!!
well, obviously you're your own person but! i could see zane adopting a lot of your mannerisms so you two end up being very similar
quality time is y'alls bread and butter
working around each other perfectly as y'all both cook in the kitchen
words never need to be shared between the two of you. just hanging around the other is enough yk? like y'all are bonding just by existing near each other and it is magical
ANOTHER A/N; i tried my best to highlight reader being the older sibling but </3 idk if i did it that well. i saw "sibling fluff" and RAN!! im willing to do a pt 2 or like a one shot or anything with a prompt similar to this !! im the youngest sibling myself tho so idk if i can properly portray being an older sibling (only in a mean light. yk like greg heffley and rodrick. do NOT recommend having older siblings y'all /j)
#ninjago headcanons#ninjago#kai smith#nya smith#jay walker#zane julien#cole brookstone#lloyd garmadon#ninjago kai#ninjago nya#ninjago jay#ninjago cole#ninjago zane#ninjago lloyd#lego ninjago#reader insert#gender neutral reader#sibling reader#ninjago x reader
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First Love/Late Spring
Summary: Having a gorgeous prince as a soulmate is practically a dream come true. Unfortunately for you, Leona doesn’t exactly care for things like fate and love.
Leona Kingscholar x Reader (Soulmate AU), background Malleus & Reader
CW: Leona is a jerk/toxic also possessive, mild discussion of class issues, unrequited love
His first words to you, written in beautiful script on your wrist, hadn’t made your mother excited at the prospects of your soulmate, but you hadn’t much cared about their brashness. Growing up, they were all you had to fantasize about as a distraction from your tedious life.
Meeting Leona had finally changed that, crumbling your hopes of his first words simply being a misunderstanding to dust.
You hadn’t grown up in the the Sunset Savanna, but you’d been able to catch glimpses of him here and there because of your place in Briar Valley’s court. The child of the Draconia’s head servant, you’d grown up in the halls of the castle, often attending to the royals while helping your mother. Despite your station, Malleus never treated you differently, often asking his grandmother to give you time off to play with him, for which she conceded with a smile and ruffle to her grandson’s head.
You remember the first time you’d seen Leona. He was merely a child of fourteen, a couple years older than yourself. Him and his brother had come for a diplomatic visit, the two princes strutting through the large halls. One brother warm and friendly, the other as icy as the snow that fell outside the castle that day.
Leona had caught your attention immediately. You watched him, transfixed as you hid behind the skirt of your mother. Your soulmate mark hadn’t even been at the front of your mind, but even then you’d felt an instinctual pull toward him. There was a sense of familiarity there, almost as though he was the prince you had grown up around and not Malleus, despite never having spoken to him.
Even as your mother forced you out from behind her to stand in a respectable line with the rest of the servants lowering themselves into a bow in front of the foreign princes, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.
Leona hadn’t glanced at you even once during that visit.
Years passed before you ever laid eyes on him again, but he would still grace your thoughts from time to time. Lord Malleus and the queen didn’t have guests very often, so his visit lingered.
You’d asked Malleus about him one day, wondering aloud about the second prince of the Sunset Savanna. The fae hadn’t known much. He’d also been strangely silent for the rest of the evening, so you wondered if perhaps you’d touched on a sore subject.
Those were the days when you were still a child and allowed to play alongside Briar Valley’s heir. Before your stations caught up with you. Back when you were allowed to be friends, instead of ruler and subject.
It was your own mother’s insistence, more than the queen’s, that forced you into days away from your childhood friend. Now that you were growing up, you had much to learn about how to run the domestic side of a kingdom, ensuring everything would be perfectly coordinated to keep the royals happy. After all, you were expected to replace your mother’s position and serve Lord Malleus after she passed.
Now, you rarely saw Malleus apart from when you were serving him his meals. When you’d bring him his breakfast in the morning, he’d try to chat with you, but you had to leave apologetically with all the chores you needed to do. You could tell by the softness of his voice, lacking in his usual amusement, that he was disappointed with your absence, but you hadn’t had much choice.
Once Malleus departed for NRC with Lilia, you saw him even less. Soon, Silver and Sebek followed, leaving the castle to have fewer familiar faces to liven your day. You weren’t a magic user, but you’d known that even if you were, you’d never have been allowed to leave the castle. No matter your circumstances, the one thing that kept you holding on was the fantasy of your soulmate coming to sweep you away from this life of simplicity.
-
When Malleus was in his last year of schooling, you turned eighteen and were permitted to temporarily visit Lilia and your prince.
Arriving at NRC, the two guided you to their dorm, where you would be staying for your visit. The other students had stared at you as you walked into Diasomnia; apparently it wasn’t common for anyone to have visitors, but the headmaster had made an exception for the Draconia’s.
All the other rooms were full for the school year, so Malleus agreed to let you stay with him, as he had his own single room.
As you unpacked your things, Malleus floated a second bed into the room. You thanked him softly, and he nodded in turn. It saddened you a bit, how things had become so distant between you and your childhood friend. You understood, of course, you were practically living in different worlds; his full of magic and royalty, yours of mundaneness and servitude. Despite the lack of time spent together, you hoped this visit would bring the two of you closer together again, dispelling some of the awkwardness you’d felt since returning to his presence.
After settling in, Lilia promised to take you on a tour of campus. Malleus had housewarden responsibilities to deal with, so he bid you a goodbye and left you alone in his room. Your eyes settled on the greyness of the walls; just like home. It seemed Malleus, too, found comfort in the familiar.
Lilia knocked on the door, smiling at you excitedly before pulling you into the hall, giggling all about the excitement to come. He showed you around the campus grounds, pointing out the different dorm uniforms and various areas he found interesting.
-
“Oh dear,” he suddenly remarked, “I’ve forgotten to remind Malleus of the housewarden meeting again.”
Lilia took your hand again, pulling you towards the other side of the school, despite your protests that Malleus had already known.
“Just one reminder isn’t typically enough for Malleus,” he said.
Soon enough, the two of you arrived in front of a small room. As Lilia tried to peek in the window to see if Malleus was already there, you approached the door, curious of this new place. Before you could look too closely at the name on the plaque, the door swung open, leading someone on the other side to crash into you.
The man managed to steady himself, but you fell backwards, landing painfully on your tailbone. You stared at the lion beastman, noting his strong build. His flowing brown locks fell across his shoulders, his cute ears perked on the top of his head. His piercing jade eyes were narrowed in judgement, but you found them beautiful all the same. He scoffed when he saw you sitting pathetically on the ground after your fall.
“Who the hell are you?” he glared.
The words rung in your ears, leaving you shell-shocked even as he awaited an answer. The words you’d dreamed of, over and over again, romanticizing every possibility and hoping they were different to what they sounded like. You couldn’t form a response, only staring up at your apparent soulmate, the prince from so many years ago, Leona Kingscholar.
“Whatever, I don’t care. Just get out of my way,” he huffed, leaving before you could even get a word in.
You’d heard rumours about Leona before, but it was hard to know which of them was true. People often said that Malleus would turn you to stone with one look, and that was the farthest thing from the truth.
Lilia, when you inquired briefly after Malleus’ silence on the topic, had informed you that Leona could supposedly be quite disagreeable. You hadn’t thought much of it then, let alone the words on your wrist.
Now, Lilia giggled for a moment, before helping you up. “That’s the Kingscholar fellow who visited Briar Valley when you were a child.”
“I know,” you replied, too lost in thought to realize your sleeve had slid up, allowing Lilia to catch a glimpse of the very words Leona had said a few moments ago.
He looked back at you, surprised. “Leona is-”
“So rude!” you interrupted him as Malleus exited the meeting with the rest of the housewardens. It seems Leona left as soon as he could, while the rest lingered behind for a moment. “Can you believe he knocked me over like that?”
“Kingscholar harmed you?” Malleus asked, approaching you. His eyes hardened as they scanned over your body, searching for injury. “I will take you to the infirmary.”
“No need,” you waved his concern off. “We just bumped into each other.”
Lilia watched the exchange between you two, and you held eye contact with him, imploring him not to share his discovery with the prince.
“You actually made it to the meeting, Malleus?” Lilia inquired, thankfully changing the topic.
“Yes. It seems having MC here reminded me.” Malleus smiled gently at you.
“I’m glad to be of service.” You smile back, happy a bit of the awkwardness built up from distance is going away.
“No,” Malleus said. “While you’re here, you’ll be under no one’s service. Certainly not my own.”
“Thank you. That means a lot, Mal,” you replied, using a nickname for him that you haven’t used since you were children.
The light dusting of pink that coloured his cheeks went unnoticed by you.
-
You stayed up that night, just thinking about your soulmate. All this time you’d wondered who it could be, only to find out you had already met him years ago. Not only that, you’d admired him. You wanted to deny it, but even back then you’d felt an intrinsic but inexplicable pull towards him.
You’d never considered it could be because he was your soulmate. After all, the two of you couldn’t be more different. Were you really destined to find him after being locked away in Briar Valley your entire life?
For better or for worse, Leona was yours. Even he couldn’t deny it with your first words to him presumably printed on his own forearm. Sure, your first encounter hadn’t been the best, but you’d probably just caught him at a bad time.
Despite your fears, you resigned yourself to try and talk to him at the next possible chance.
-
You’d thought about talking to Lilia about what to say to him, but you quickly dismissed the thought. As much as you loved him, you knew Lilia was hardly a romantic by anyone’s definition but his own.
Instead, you enlisted the help of Silver to point you towards the direction of Savanaclaw, Leona’s apparent dorm. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked too many questions and only wished you luck, dropping in a quick warning about avoiding angering anyone in the dorm. It seemed Savanaclaw had many strong fighters; it was no wonder someone like Leona was their leader.
Silver spotted a shorter boy as you approached the dorm, calling out to him. “Hello, Ruggie.”
The blond boy walked towards him, eyeing you by Silver’s side. “Silver. Who is this?”
“Malleus’ guest. They’ve come to see Leona.”
“Leona?” he questioned, turning to you. “Why do you want to see him?”
“I have my reasons,” you replied, not exactly wanting to tell this stranger about your relationship to his housewarden.
“No can do. Leona’s in a bad mood today. If you annoy him anymore, he’ll just take it out for me.”
“Thanks for taking me here, Silver. I’ll be okay on my own for now.”
Silver took the hint and stated that he’d see you back at Diasomnia, before heading off. You turned back to Ruggie.
“I’m his soulmate,” you revealed, pulling up your sleeve for him to examine Leona’s words. You hadn’t wanted to, but Ruggie looked awfully reluctant to take you before.
His eyes widened, suddenly much more aware of you. Ruggie’s eyes surveilled you top to bottom. “That does sound like him. Huh. I was beginning to think Leona didn’t have one.” He shook his head. “Okay, I’ll take you to his room. He would probably want me to. I think. But I’ve warned you, he’s not feeling good right now. You sure you still want to see him?”
You hesitated to reply for a moment. Your first interaction with him had gone terribly wrong. Your poor heart couldn’t risk another one, but you also knew if you waited even a day longer to speak to him you’d go stir-crazy.
“Take me,” you told him. You would need to face Leona sooner or later.
-
Leona’s room was huge in comparison to the others you’d passed by. Every surface seemed to be draped in luxury silks and handmade tapestries of only the finest quality. It’s high ceiling and fancy decor gave it an open feeling, but also one of impersonality. You couldn’t get a grasp on him at all.
He was sleeping when you entered, which should have been your first sign to turn and run. Warnings about ‘waking a sleeping beast’ and all. Ruggie had approached Leona, urging him quietly to wake up. Leona glared at him, until he turned and pointed at you, standing in the doorway.
“You again? Get out. Ruggie, what the hell? You just bringing anyone in here now?”
“I’m out of here,” Ruggie said, quickly leaving the room.
“What do you want?”
“My name is-”
He interrupted you, bored. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m your soulmate,” you blurted out. “Sorry, I know this isn’t the best way for us to officially meet but-”
Leona instinctively glanced down at his arm, furrowing his brow. Surely enough, the beginning on an introduction swiftly cut off was printed on forearm. He’d wondered about the abrupt end of the sentence back when he was younger. He took a few seconds to examine you as you stood rambling on.
“Do you really think I care? Being my soulmate doesn’t make you special. You’re just as pathetic as the rest of them.”
You hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet, but his cruel words cut deeper than you’d thought. You felt yourself tearing up, no matter how you tried to resist it.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. But I won’t stop trying, you know we’re meant to be toge-”
He glared, looking down on you. “You’re a pathetic little herbivore, through and through. Even if I cared about having a soulmate, do you really think I’d want you?”
It hurt, even though you think you’d known what was coming. To be rejected by one’s soulmate was unthinkable; did he truly find you that repulsive? You fled his room, not willing to hear anymore of his words.
Leona, exhausted from his day and only half-remembering this interaction, went back to sleep.
-
The next day, Ruggie found Leona napping in the garden.
“You know, that was harsh, even for you. Rejecting your soulmate? What were you thinking?”
“I know. Stop eavesdropping.”
“Whatever. I think Malleus is on warpath now that you’ve broken the heart of his guest.”
“Malleus’ guest, huh?”
“Yeah. Apparently they were raised as a servant in his castle.”
“That lizard has been ordering around my soulmate?”
“Now you care?” Ruggie asked, exasperated.
“Fine, I overreacted yesterday. You caught me at a bad time. It’s not a big deal.”
“I think Malleus would disagree.”
“Will you shut up about him?”
“I’m pretty sure your soulmate would too.”
“…”
“You fucked up, man.”
“Whatever. It’s either disappointing them now, or disappointing them later. They’ll get over it.”
“Why’d you even say that stuff about not wanting them as a soulmate? They’re certainly attractive, and seemed nice enough.”
“I needed to get rid of them and finish my nap.”
“Once again, you’ve fucked up.”
Leona glared at him. “I told you, I know. My soulmate was bound to hate me at some point or another. Why disappoint them by letting them get to know me and then finding out? Plus, I don’t need someone dragging me down with sappy shit and more responsibilities like dates and anniversaries.”
“Dude, soulmates are literally designed to love you. I know this is rich coming from me, but maybe don’t be such a jerk for once.”
With that, Ruggie left Leona behind to stew in his thoughts.
-
“Malleus,” you cried into his shoulder. “He doesn’t want me. My own soulmate!”
You’d been able to mostly hold it together when you returned to Diasomnia, but after Malleus had asked you what was wrong as you were about to sleep, all the pent up feelings burst through in waves of angst and regret.
“Kingscholar has always been a brute. You deserve far better.” Malleus stroked a hand gently over your head, moving to wiping away stray tears from your cheek.
“No, no, he’s right. Why would he want to be with me? I’m just a pathetic magicless human, there’s no reason-”
“Stop,” Malleus orders sharply. “I will not allow you to talk about yourself in this manner.” He leaned in to pull you into his arms, whispering gently into your ear. “Anyone, prince or not, would be the luckiest in the world to have you. I wish you might see yourself as I do, my dear.”
“Malleus,” you sighed, missing the true meaning of his words and instead plunging the knife deeper, “sometimes I wish you were my soulmate instead of him.”
He only dared to speak his response once you were well asleep, snoring from across the room.
“As do I.”
-
Over the last few days of your visit, you tried your best to avoid Leona, but it proved more difficult than one would think. No matter where you went, he seemed to appear, watching you from across the field or cafeteria or classroom. Thankfully, Malleus stayed by your side the entire time.
That was, until he was once again forced to attend to housewarden duties. Feeling the need for fresh air, you resigned yourself to taking a walk around campus.
Unfortunately, you managed to run into Leona again. Without Malleus by your side, he finally approached you. Knowing that you would be forced to face him eventually, you waited for him to speak.
“Where’s your guard dog?” he asked dryly.
“Busy. What do you want?” you echo his words back at him.
“The real question is what do you want? First you come around claiming to be my soulmate, now you’ve got the lizard’s scent all over you. What, you want him instead?”
You glared at him. How dare he act like you were in the wrong after what he’d said to you. “And if I do?”
Your words lit a fire in his eyes, replacing the tired apathy. “You want Malleus? Too bad. I’m the one the universe designed for you. You belong to me, and no one else.”
Taken aback by his response, you replied: “What’s your problem? You’re the one who rejected me.”
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind about you.”
“And if I have too?”
“Take it up with the universe, I guess.”
“Screw you.” You’d thought, hoped, that he might try for an apology. You suppose the words on your wrist had been a warning instead of an opportunity.
“MC.” He called your name as you started walking away. “I know you feel what’s between us. I never really believed in this ‘fate’ shit, but I even I can’t deny it. Why do you think I approached you? I guess I can’t help it. I don’t know a thing about you, and it pisses me off that I want to.”
You stand rooted in place by his confession. He’s been horrible to you, and yet his words ring true. You do feel it, no matter how much you don’t want to. You want to be near him, getting some kind of sick pleasure out of how he’s been hovering around you the past few days.
“You know we’ve met before. Back in Briar Valley.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Obviously. You know, I never wanted to go on that dumb visit. Father insisted, but now I know, everything was done to put as together, MC. No matter how much we try to stay away from each other, no matter how angry we make each other, we’ll also belong to each other, and I think you know that.”
You are his and he is yours. Those green eyes look at you, and you know your decision has already been made.
“You have a lifetime of things to make up for, and we’ve only just met.”
“I know,” he smirks. “Good thing for you, soulmates are for life.”
#leona is a meanie here im sorry i love him but he’s a jerk and emotionally stunted#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#malleus draconia x reader#leona x reader#malleus x reader#leona kingscholar#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#ruggie bucchi#silver vanrouge#twst#twisted wonderland
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Paramour (Merthur)
In which Merlin's having issues with an entitled noble and Arthur comes up with a... creative way of fixing it.
(TW: Unconsensual sexual advances, mentions of murder and violence, and some sexual content, although explicit body parts are not mentioned and it's kind of like a TV cut-away, the scenes are not prolonged.)
Protective!Arthur, 5.4k words, Uther being dumb, per usual, and Arthur knows Merlin is a magic user! Please enjoy!
Merlin is seething and Arthur can see it. He may play dumb when it comes to many of Merlin’s emotions, refusing to be caught caring unless in the most dire of circumstances, but this is a new kind of anger entirely. Merlin’s prone to annoyance (both attracting it and being it), but this is far from something like that—this is genuine rage. Arthur’s not sure he’s ever seen him like this, flushed and eerily quiet, his fingers undoing Arthur’s cloak rather harshly, which he would comment about if he were not so concerned.
In Merlin’s defense, he seems to be making an attempt at feigning calm, but it does not fool Arthur in the slightest. He knows everything about Merlin, from his favorite meal to the boundless power that rests in his hands—Merlin’s a weapon, truly. A weapon who’s fingertips brush idly over his skin as he lifts the tunic over Arthur’s head, throwing that over his arm with the festival attire.
“What is it?” Merlin had turned, presumably to toss the clothes in the wash-bin that Merlin would undoubtedly take back to his chambers tonight, despite Arthur’s insistence that he needn’t complete tasks like that this late. The manservant stops, though, cold.
“Sire?”
Usually dripping in sarcasm, Arthur swallows hard at the unfamiliar, honest use of his title.
“You are clearly furious. Have I done something?”
Merlin is quiet for a moment, which leaves Arthur in embarrassingly tense anticipation. His last wish—and oh, if Merlin ever found out about this, he’d simply die—is to ever anger, disappoint, or even go so far as to irk his warlock companion. He may not act it, but having Merlin upset with him is truly disturbing. Sure, they bicker, and they pick meaningless fights, but that’s more just them than an actual distaste for each other’s company.
It’s partially what makes each other’s company so tasteful, at least, as far as Arthur is concerned.
“No,” comes the reply, which is a relief, but also further troubling—if Arthur had not bothered Merlin, then what had? The night had been wonderful, golden fire-light licking through the hall as lords and ladies and rich-folk from kingdoms both near and far socialized, drank, and celebrated the sweet ending of a particularly harsh winter. Every time Arthur had caught Merlin in his gaze, he had been mingling with the knights, brilliant smile, unearthly gorgeous, gold glinting in his eyes, the laces of his tunic undone and revealing strong, pale chest, dark hair just a tad too long, dripping over his brow—
Christ—focus, Arthur.
“Then what?” Arthur pries when no explanation comes. Merlin’s head tips back, and part of Arthur is disappointed, the other part grateful he does not see the delicious expanse of skin that motion exposes. Merlin heaves a deep sigh, and turns.
“Lord Edmond,” he says, fingers curling into expensive fabrics, cheeks flushed, “Refuses to leave me alone.”
Edmond—some noble from the north Arthur was not particularly fond of, but had never caused much of an issue as far as Arthur had been aware. Kind of an inconsequential, irrelevant man. Handsome, sure, but old now—maybe fourty? Fifty? Ten years older than Arthur at least, and complacent. Not a hunter, not a soldier—
“I don’t remember him being too insufferably-friendly,” Arthur muses.
“This,” Merlin snaps, “Is beyond friendly.”
Oh. Oh no.
Fury sears through him like a fire-poker to the ribs, and he sets his jaw, unable to speak for a full, agonizing moment as he struggles not to fly out of his chambers to slaughter the man himself. He clears his throat, tearing his gaze from Merlin’s.
“Were these… welcome advances?” His heart leaps into his throat—
“Absolutely not,” Merlin says, “And if he continues, I’ll have to smite him where he stands, your father’s ridiculous laws be damned.”
Arthur’s eyes widen. He looks back at Merlin.
“Can you smite people?!”
“No, but I could try.”
Arthur wants nothing more than to reach out and soothe Merlin’s anger, and that ache is embarrassing, but not near as embarrassing as the idea tickling the back of his skull, quietly petitioning to be shared. Merlin narrows his eyes in Arthur’s direction—
“What?”
“I have… quite the solution.”
Merlin scoffs, and turns back around to finally toss Arthur’s clothes. Arthur stretches his limbs a little bit, moving to sit down on the end of his bed and feeling his exhaustion wash over him. A few nights of this festival shit has him poorly-rested and sore in places he’s not used to being sore—he misses sparring, training, riding. If it were not already the early hours of the morning, he’d consider getting up at a decent hour to accomplish one of these.
He’ll be lucky to be up any time before noon.
“You couldn’t,” Merlin says, folding the clothes instead of tossing them—quite responsible of him, though Arthur’s sure the sheer cost of the clothing has Merlin a little more careful.
Or his rage is making him forget he’s usually negligent, as backwards as that seems.
“Gwaine and Percival have already warned him, and he does not seem to care one way or another,” Merlin rants, throwing the folded tunic down into the wash bin (there’s the Merlin he knows well) and whipping around, “And for the last three nights, it’s one uncomfortable, disgusting, completely inappropriate—”
“This has been going on for three nights?!” Arthur asks, incredulous and a little hurt. If Merlin was being made uncomfortable by a noble, Arthur should have been the first one to hear of it, and Merlin should know that by now. Additionally, Arthur knows Merlin quite enjoys this festival each year, and he’s decently agitated at the notion that some horny prick is ruining his manservant’s time.
The agitation is certainly not because Arthur would give any amount of money or body parts or perhaps his entire station if it meant he could be closer to Merlin than he already is—much closer. Infinitely closer.
God, how has this happened to him?
“He is absolutely unavoidable. He gets one chalice of wine in him and he’s touching me and saying insufferable things and—”
“He’s laid hands on you?”
Merlin quiets abruptly, his passionate distaste dying in his throat and on his face, and Arthur is certainly to blame. He couldn’t help himself—his tone had gone from disbelief and general annoyance to something much colder, much more serious. Unwelcome flirtation is one thing, but touching Merlin when Arthur himself hasn’t even been afforded the chance is absolutely unacceptable, and especially when the contact is uninvited and uncomfortable for the receiving party.
And that receiving party is Merlin.
Arthur feels murder sitting heavy on his chest.
“Arthur—”
“Here’s what’s going to happen, now,” Arthur interrupts, tone like ice. Merlin looks like he wants to argue, probably to reassure Arthur he’s fine and he doesn’t need to intervene, but he doesn’t try. He’s quite adept at figuring out now when his snide remarks are appropriate and when they are incredibly not. “Tomorrow night, when he begins to bother you, you’ll do that brain talking thing—”
“Gaius calls it Sending.”
“Right, Sending, and alert me. Then I will take care of the situation how I see fit.”
“But Gwaine and Percival already—”
“I am the crown prince of Camelot and if he’d like to maintain his title, he will listen to me. Should he disobey, I will fucking gut him.” Right, so, that second part wasn’t supposed to come out, but the already defeated look on Merlin’s face had pulled it forcibly from his tongue. Merlin does not look like he believes him in any way, shape, or form, but Arthur hardly cares. He’s too angry, murder on his mind, and Merlin will know this tomorrow night.
“It’s really—I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Merlin says with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest, shifting from foot to foot like he’s suddenly very uncomfortable. Arthur doesn’t like that. Did he do that? “It’s not a big deal—”
“Merlin,” Arthur says firmly, “I should be the first to know when someone abuses their title to try and get away with matters such as this. Especially when it’s happening to you.”
Arthur thinks he must imagine the pink flooding Merlin’s cheeks, or maybe his anger is coming back. Merlin shifts awkwardly some more, and looks down at his shoes, shuffling them a little against the floor.
“Sire…”
“Yes?”
“I would… prefer you enjoy your holiday. Worrying for me is—”
“Merlin, go to bed,” Arthur says, “Because you are sounding more and more like I should beat you over the head with a club.”
The grin on Merlin’s face seems to brighten the room, and the eyeroll is like a hundred worms wriggling around in Arthur’s stomach. Merlin turns and picks up the wash-bin with what sounds to be a scoff, but Arthur is almost certain is some sort of breathy giggle—
“Do not do that tonight. Go to sleep.”
“Don’t tell me how to do my job.”
“That is quite literally the entire point of your job!”
“Huh? What was that? I’m sorry, I don’t speak insufferable prat.”
“Merlin—!”
“Goodnight, Arthur!”
—
Arthur takes it lightly on the wine, and stays what he believes to be a safe distance away from Merlin at all times. He has a sort-of picture of Lord Edmond in his mind, but as he surveys the crowd, no-one seems to fit the image just right. It seems Arthur remembers him but not altogether too clearly, and the anticipation is starting to get to him.
Nobles keep trying to strike up conversations with him, but he can hardly pay attention. Morgana approaches him to see if he’s alright, but he’s lost sight of Merlin and he can’t answer her because he’s too busy scanning the room, so she gives up. Then, Gwen approaches to tell him of some business with one guest or another, but half way through, Merlin’s voice whispers through his mind, sending a shudder down his spine he can’t ignore.
It’s happening. I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from killing him. I’m not fond of washing blood off your clothes.
Arthur stands.
“---and then she—Arthur?”
“Excuse me a moment,” he says to her, and perhaps someone else near him, but he’s not entirely sure. The lady to his left looks particularly disappointed, but swiftly turns to Gwen to try and trick her into divulging the latest gossip from the kitchens.
Gwen seems less than enthused.
Lord Edmund is not particularly tall, but not particularly short. Merlin stands a few inches over him but he and Arthur are both considerably tall. He looks to be older, as Arthur had thought, probably early-fifties at the youngest, and despite how it hurts Arthur’s very soul to admit it, not terribly hard on the eyes. However, what is extremely off-putting (and particularly rage-inducing) is the way he has Merlin trapped between a table and a group of snickering lackeys, who occasionally glance over at the situation, amused.
A posse. This insolent Lord brought an entourage and is using it to try and scare Merlin into sleeping with him.
Arthur sees red.
“What do you think you are doing?”
Merlin starts, and Edmond jumps, stumbling backwards and away from Merlin just a bit, looking surprised, but not like he thinks he’s done anything wrong. Arthur is brimming, perhaps spilling, with rage, Edmond fixed in his stare like an enemy’s chest which his blade is sure to rupture. If Arthur had his sword, it would be lying against Edmond’s throat.
“Your highness—”
Arthur remembers himself. He had had a plan, hadn’t he?
If Arthur were to tell this man off, it might work to dissuade him, sure, but it would teach him nothing. The festival was to last nearly the entire month, and a simple reprimand from a man so much younger than him—prince or not—would not hold to that length in time, Arthur was sure of it. Edmond would figure out a way to get around Arthur’s consequences or out of his sight, and then Merlin would be back at square one, and based on how Arthur had had to be the one to ask, he’s sure Merlin would not bring it up a second time.
Therefore, it would take more than harsh words to keep Edmond in line.
He turns, grabs Merlin by the side of his tunic, and yanks him forward into his embrace. He can only imagine the look of shock, but if this is to work, he cannot make his own nervousness known. He tilts his head and blows breath against Merlin’s ear as he speaks—
“It is my last intention to embarrass you, but there are few ways to make a man like this listen, and I am not interested in anyone’s hands on you but mine. I’ll meet you in my chambers when I have finished here.”
Once again, Arthur has said something he hadn’t meant to say, but now is not exactly the time to try and cover up for himself. He said what he said, and Merlin is ducking into the crowd, and there is a much more important matter at hand. He turns to Edmond.
“You would dare insult the crown prince in such a way?”
This gets the attention of the lackeys, and many party-goers nearby. Arthur steels himself for the show he is about to perform, the backlash he will undoubtedly receive from his father, and Morgana’s incessant teasing until the end of time. This, and the rumors that will spread once these nobles are made aware—
“I’m sure I know what you mean,” Edmond answers, genuinely sounding clueless, but also completely calm, unphased by Arthur’s anger. Does this sort of stupidity come with age? Arthur must start reading more, if this is the case.
“You would shamelessly attempt to bed my paramour?”
Arthur watches all the color drain from Edmond’s face, and feels a swelling of pride in his chest at the sight. He opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it, and repeats the motion, clearly at a loss. The lackeys scatter comically, and those in attendance of the show begin to mutter. He’s grateful he’s only captivated a small portion of the great hall, and not the entire thing, and his father is many, many crowds away.
“I—he—”
“I would throw my glove at your feet if I had a glove to throw,” Arthur spits, “And should you bother him again, or god forbid, lay a filthy hand on him, I will gut you without honor.” And so with that, Arthur turns on his heel and storms away, followed by murmurs and whispers, feeling somewhat relieved and incredibly satisfied, despite now having to explain himself to Merlin.
Right. Merlin.
—
“What did you do?” Merlin asks, all to accusing.
“Promise not to smite me.”
“No.”
“I told them—“
“Ah,” Merlin interrupts, raising a hand. He stands up and off Arthur’s bed, and moves closer, much to Arthur’s dismay. “Actually, I don’t care.”
Arthur blinks.
“But—“
“Did you mean it?”
Arthur’s brain short circuits as he finds himself gazing into storms of gray, Merlin coming much closer than he’d expected. He mimicked Edmond, opening his mouth and then closing it again, swallowing hard. Merlin is watching him expectantly and Arthur is using all the strength he has not to glance down at Merlin’s lips and give himself away completely.
“Did you mean it?” Merlin asks again.
Did he—oh.
I am not interested in anyone’s hands on you but mine.
In all the chaos, he had half-forgotten. He had meant to turn and tell Merlin to go, to apologize for what he had decided to say next, but he had lost himself in the moment of being so close. He had invested himself too much in the “performance,” even in those few, short moments, and revealed himself.
And now he would face Merlin’s reaction, whatever it may be.
“Yes,” he says, though it doesn’t come out as confident as he would have liked. Merlin searches his eyes for the lie—he dreads what could happen when the warlock finds none.
Merlin’s eyes flick downwards. Arthur’s stomach drops as he realizes Merlin’s eyeing his lips, the very same impulse he’d been begging himself not to give in to, and Merlin’s done it so close to him, so outright—
“You were jealous,” Merlin continues, and at this, Arthur scoffs. No, he was not jealous in the slightest of Lord Edmond because Edmond was a sad, elderly husk of a man who thought he could take what he wanted whenever he wanted, and Arthur is a young, handsome crown-prince who has waited over a year for any indication Merlin might feel the same as him.
He would not dare use his position of power to press Merlin to him, not when Arthur loved him, and not when Merlin had spent his time here unknowingly teaching Arthur what that really meant. His parents had not done it, fleeting teenage flings had not done it—Merlin had. Undoubtedly.
“I would not be jealous of a man you didn’t actually want,” Arthur says, which he realizes then is insinuating he would be jealous of a man Merlin did want, so he tries to back track, “And regardless—!” He exclaims quickly, and Merlin’s responding smile digs up those worms.
“You’re obviously allowed to do whatever you want with whoever you want,” Arthur finishes, swallowing hard.
“Obviously,” Merlin repeats, lifting his hands to start undoing the clasps on Arthur’s robes.
If Arthur wanted—no, not if wanted, because he does want, he’s just not sure what Merlin wants—he could tilt his head just so, lean in an inch, maybe two, and kiss him. They’re that close, and they’ve been this close before, sure, but Merlin’s acting different and his fingers work the clasps much slower and his face is absolutely unreadable to the point where Arthur is starting to panic. He prides himself on knowing Merlin very well, but right now—
“Even if it’s you?”
Merlin might as well have punched him in the throat. All the breath flees from his lungs as though it were never there in the first place, and his hands—he loses all command over them as he has his breath—reach up and grab Merlin by the waist of his tunic, the very same way he had done before, except this time when he pulls them together there is not crowd to convince or entertain.
He’s not sure how he manages to speak when he’s forgotten how to breathe, but—
“Especially if it’s me.”
When they kiss, finally, after the decade that seems to pass between their admissions and their lips meeting, Arthur loses his decorum entirely. Entirely. It’s like any restraint he’d had stored away left with his breath, and he is half-guiding, half-pushing Merlin, kissing him senseless until Merlin’s back hits Arthur’s bed and he’s wedged between Merlin’s thighs and it’s like this is where he’s meant to be, staring down at wet lips and heaving chest and—
“I heard what you said. About us,” Merlin manages between breaths, “I heard what you called me.”
Paramour.
“I—“
“If you would have me, sire.”
If you would have me, sire.
The double meaning all but knocks him out.
“I will have you,” Arthur, “Over and over and over again until no one can distinguish one of us from the other.” You’re a piece of me, a second more brilliant half. I need you, I have needed you since I met you in the market that day, even when I treated you so harshly, and have been so—
Merlin tips his head back and laughs and Arthur’s maudlin inner-monologue fades away, mind wholly devoted to the sound and the man it’s coming from beneath him.
“Arthur—“ his name, god, his name, “—that is already impossible to do.”
—
Merlin turns out to be marvelous in bed, and not at all like Arthur had suspected he’d be (timid, hesitant). Instead, he’s incredibly, almost obnoxiously vocal, and not abashed in the slightest.
To be fair, though, Merlin never knew when to shut his goddamn mouth any other time, so perhaps Arthur had been foolish to think this sort of affair would be any different.
When he wakes up to the knock on his door, it doesn’t occur to him to try and hide Merlin, or even wake him. He’d announced to a quarter of the party last night that they were sleeping together, and word-of-mouth in a castle filled with visiting nobles and their attendants is far worse than wild-fire.
“Yes?” he calls, sitting up despite his nakedness, absently stroking Merlin’s dark hair. The messenger—a woman Arthur recognizes to usually be either in the kitchens or the wash rooms—shyly steps in, flushing deeply when she notices that Arthur is not alone.
“You’ve been summoned. By your father.”
Now this Arthur and not been expecting. To be reprimanded at brunch for making a scene, sure, but to be summoned is an entirely different issue.
“Thank you,” Arthur says, tipping his head, “You may go.”
She hurries out, and Arthur looks down, considering for a moment waking Merlin to dress him, and then upon seeing how peacefully his paramour—paramour, how lovely—is sleeping, opts against it.
He can dress himself, surely.
—
“Brilliant,” Uther muses as Arthur enters, “We were starting to worry you had gotten lost.”
No, Arthur just couldn’t figure out which was the front and which was the back of his trousers for upwards of ten minutes.
“We” must refer to he and Edmond, Uther who is seated stiffly upon his throne, as usual, and Edmond who is standing quite relaxed beneath his gaze, which is Arthur’s first indication something here is clearly off.
“What do you want?” Arthur snaps. Uther does not falter, but Edmond looks over, clearly baffled by Arthur’s tone, and perhaps even the fact that Uther does not ask him to check it.
“Would you please explain to me,” Uther begins, “How you thought it appropriate not only to publicly humiliate a noble, threaten him, but also to treat your manservant as though he were property, and not a man of his own decisions.”
He cannot be serious. Arthur turns to Edmond, seething.
“You are far duller than you look.”
“Arthur!” Uther exclaims, sharp. Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, glowering at his father, terribly angry for what feels like the hundredth time in the past two days.
“I only acted in the interest of Merlin’s honor,” Arthur snaps, “He came to me accusing this feeble, brainless—”
“Are the insults truly necessary, your majesty?” Edmond asks his father, but Arthur continues, unperturbed.
“—wilddeoren of making unwanted advances.”
Uther frowns, and Edmond shakes his head, a completely unwarranted smile gracing his features. Arthur is certain this man is in need of several kicks to the groin and then some. Uther sighs.
“I told you, your majesty, he would come bearing all sorts of lies.”
“Lies!?” Arthur exclaims incredulously.
“You very publicly referred to Merlin as your paramour instead of your manservant,” Uther says, “In order to embarrass Lord Edmond into obeying your will.” Arthur’s jaw drops. Edmond does nothing to hide the triumph he is feeling, and all of this is making Arthur’s blood boil hotter and hotter.
That’s… technically true, but as far as last night is concerned—
“Merlin is my paramour,” Arthur argues, causing a raise of his father’s brow, and the shake of Edmond’s head, “And if you do not believe me, summon Merlin, then. Although, that seems a spectacular waste of our time, because he should have been here to explain his side of the story in the first place, and if I would have known this insolent pig—”
“Arthur,” Uther chides.
“—was going to spin such an elaborate fairy-tale, I would have roused him and brought him myself, as he happened to be, conveniently, very close by, namely, right god-damned next to me.”
Uther heaves a sigh. Edmond doesn’t look convinced.
“Arthur—”
“Father,” Arthur says, very seriously, sensing the king’s exasperation and unwillingness to argue or reprimand a noble of his own age, and such a nonchalant demeanor, begging no guilt. What his father fails to see is that this is not because Edmond is not guilty, but because he’s certain there will be no consequences for his actions—and really, unless Arthur kills him in his sleep, or challenges him to a duel, there won’t be. Nothing but a childish slap on the wrist.
“Arthur,” Uther says again, firmly, “I would like you, before dinner tonight, to apologize to Lord Edmond—”
“Absolutely not!” Arthur cries.
“You will,” Uther says, firmness growing into a slight aggression Uther believes he will listen to, “Or you will not attend.”
“Then consider this the last time you see me today, your majesty,” Arthur snaps, turning to leave, “And if you are so opposed to taking the word of your own son over some half-wit jester, ask the servant who summoned me how she found me this morning, and who she found me with.”
He turns, just before the door, glaring back at both men—his father who looks vaguely disappointed, and Edmond who’s now red in the face, seemingly having realized what an impartial third-party’s account may do to his story.
“Or better yet,” Arthur muses, “Ask the knights who attempted to deter Lord Testicle—“
“Arthur!”
“—before I was forced to step in. And please,” Arthur says, finally wrapping this up into a neat little bow, “Do not send for me again. I have a long day and night planned bending my manservant over every flat surface in my chambers.”
“Christ, Arthur—“
“Good. Fucking. Day.”
And if the doors were small enough to be slammed, Arthur would have done exactly that.
—
“What is your name?”
“Oh—er, Katherine, your majesty. I work in the—“
“I know. I just have a question regarding the manner in which you found my son this morning.”
“Ah! Oh—umm… well… I’m not entirely comfortable… saying, my king.”
Uther sighs deeply, and waves his hand to dismiss her.
“That will be all.”
—
“You shouldn’t fight with your father on my behalf,” Merlin soothes, and Arthur would attest to enjoying baths much more when Merlin’s in the water with him. “It’s not worth the drama. And you should be enjoying the—“
“As you should have been, and as we should be, if it weren’t for Lord shit-pants—“
“Your insults are getting less and less clever,” Merlin teases, moving forward through the water to press his lips to Arthur’s throat, as if that’s supposed to make it better. Is this them now? Bickering like usual and then kissing it away?
He could get used to that, yeah.
Arthur pinches Merlin’s thigh beneath the water in retaliation, so Merlin pokes him hard in the ribs.
“Ow!” Arthur exclaims, seizing Merlin’s wrist and yanking him forward, sending the boy effectively into his embrace, although Arthur is framing it as a restraint, tugging Merlin’s wrists behind his back and pressing his own teasing kiss to the man’s shoulder.
“Gotcha.”
Merlin laughs.
“What I lack in glorious, sexy, beefy—“ he’s still teasing Arthur, that bastard, “—muscle, I make up for in wit.”
“And how is wit going to—?”
Arthur learns when Merlin uses the height at which his wrists are currently held much to his advantage, and grunts.
“Yes, I suppose that’ll do it.”
—
The next morning they are both summoned, Merlin teaches Arthur about his pants, and they make their way to Uther, chatting aimlessly, bickering uselessly.
Arthur feels incredible. Wonderful, even. To be with Merlin and to not ache to be nearer, because he has been near and can be near, is like a breath of fresh air. His best friend is now his lover, and he could not have asked fate for anything more.
“Father,” Arthur greets.
“Your majesty,” Merlin says, but does not bow, because Merlin thinks bowing is ridiculous and now that he thinks about it, Arthur kind of agrees.
“I have,” Uther says, sounding wildly uncomfortable, which is the consequence of his own inability to take anything Arthur says seriously, “Confirmed with Katherine, the chambermaid, that you two are, in fact…”
Arthur grins.
“Copulating?” He suggests.
“Fucking?” Merlin adds plainly.
“Fraternizing?”
“Fucking,” Merlin repeats.
“Lovers,” Arthur suggests, taking Merlin’s hand. They haven’t talked about that part of it yet, although he’s certain it had been implied. Merlin’s grasp tightens around his own, and their shoulders bump together softly.
“Yeah, probably that one,” he agrees.
Uther is so red in the face he’d make a stunning rendition of Camelot’s flag had he painted a giant gold dragon over his features.
“Right, well,” Uther says, clearing his throat, “I assume you are both aware though… fraternization is certainly allowed, I cannot in good faith—“
“Paramour, father,” Arthur interrupts, because he doesn’t need to hear another word of “produce an heir” or “take a wife.” He’s highly aware of his duty, and if he weren’t, he would’ve dragged Merlin down to Gaius hours ago and demanded to be wed (or whatever version of wed can be done without the church). This way, the next time Lord Edmond or any other ridiculous noble tried to lay hands on his manservant, Arthur would have probably cause to shove his spear through their throat. “I know what can be done and what cannot.”
Uther nods, as if he had suspected this.
“Good. Then all we have to the discuss is the matter of Merlin’s new title—“
“Having sex with your son gives me a title?!” Merlin interrupts incredulously, and Uther goes red again, much to Arthur’s delight. He tips his head back and laughs because oh, how he loves this man.
Uther clears his throat, “Paramour is the title, and while not all of the Five Kingdoms make space for such a thing, I and the court of Camelot do entertain the notion that political marriages should not fall in the way of an actual connection. Therefore, you will be alleviated of your position as Arthur’s manservant—“
“I’d actually like to keep that, if I may,” Merlin interrupts again, and really, where does Merlin get off having the gall to keep cutting off the king.
Probably somewhere in all those titles Uther doesn’t know Merlin already has—The Last Dragonlord, The Most Powerful Sorcerer to Ever Walk the Earth, Emrys, etc. Really, now that Arthur thinks about it, Merlin could cast his father out of the throne with the flick of his wrist, and assume Camelot under his rule, destroying those who dare defy him with little more than a thought and a spoken word.
But he doesn’t. Because of Arthur.
It is beginning to feel incredibly stupid that Arthur couldn’t tell if Merlin loved him back. Perhaps he really will have to start reading more.
“You would continue to work?” Uther asks, eyebrows raised.
“I would feel useless if I were not serving Camelot, and my prince,” Merlin says, “It’s kind of what I’m meant to do, regardless of what “title” I hold here.”
Uther nods as if he understands, which he couldn’t possibly, because where he technically assumes a mantle of service to Camelot, he was birthed to it. Merlin chooses his place here.
Merlin chooses Arthur.
He swears, every minute he spends with the man just sinks him further and further, lost to the warlock entirely, even though Arthur had been certain he was at the bottom before any of this even occurred.
“I will be honest,” Uther muses, “I am starting to see why my son likes you.”
Merlin, to Arthur’s surprise, bows his head to hide his pink cheeks, playing it off like a polite and silent “thank you.” Arthur removes his hand from Merlin’s and slips an arm around his waist. Leave it to Merlin to stand firm in the line of a King’s judgment, and buckle under half-baked praise.
Duly noted.
“Is that all?”
“Actually,” Uther says, “I’m sure you’ll pleased to hear I’ve tossed Edmond in a cell until tomorrow morning, because you and I both know—“
“There are few ways to make a man like that listen,” they chorus, and Arthur smiles, incredibly pleased at the idea of Edmond all wrapped up in silk and fine fabrics, cold and damp in a dirty old cell. “Thank you, father.”
Uther waves his hand dismissively, but cannot help a slight smile at his son’s glowing approval.
“Away with you both. I will see you tonight.”
And Uther does, sitting with their chairs and knees touching, speaking in soft voices and drinking far too much wine, pink cheeks and bright smiles and a love like he remembers. Uther does not wholly understand his son’s affinity for his manservant, but he can understand being young, reckless, and excited to share breath with someone excited to share breath with you.
Yes, Uther, like Arthur, is quite pleased with this paramour. Quite pleased.
[Bonus Content]
Same Universe, Sillier Plot!
#fanfiction#lgbtq#writer#fanfic#merthur#merlinbbc#merlin bbc#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#i did all my gushing on the teaser post so#i've really got nothing to say#hopefully if ppl come here from tik tok they aren't disappointed#i would be so sad#(but if you are feel free to give me constructive criticism)#gay
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Online friend — Haerin x reader
summary: Haerin has had an online friend for around two years now. Their first meeting might be coming sooner than she had originally thought.
pairing: Kang Haerin x fem!reader
tags: online friends, trainee, fluff
word count: 869
————————————
Haerin has had an online friend for a while now.
When she had begun her life as a trainee, a lot of the pressure that came with it made her feel horrible. Not wanting to seem weak in front of the others, she buried all of her feelings inside.
She felt like she couldn’t talk to anyone about it. Her parents weren't the most supportive ones, so she was afraid that instead of comforting her, they would use it as a “We told you so” moment, insisting that she quit. So she decided to vent her frustrations out on a blog.
It was anonymous, of course, god forbid the company found it and kicked her out, or something. They had very strict rules about social media and a blog isn't that much different.
It didn’t receive much attention, which was fine with her, she just needed a place to complain and rant. But one day, she received a private message. It was from a user under the name ‘raccoon_luvr05’, who was apparently also a trainee and related to Haerin.
They had started to talk on the blog site, eventually exchanging their phone numbers, agreeing to only texting, as they wanted to remain anonymous. Haerin would be lying if she said she was never curious about the person behind the messages. They understood her more than anyone she has ever met, and she didn’t even know their name!
The only thing she knew was that they were a year older than her, they were from Jeju and a three year trainee under Starship Entertainment. It was honestly impressive how little they knew about each other, despite sharing their deepest secrets with each other for around two years.
If she were to be honest, Haerin had developed sort of a crush on them. She didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, but the way they comforted her and cheered her up during her hardest days when she just wanted to quit, made her heart jump. Just thinking about it made her blush, making Hanni tease her from the other side of the practice room.
Her phone was in her hands, the messages between them open on her screen. Haerin stared at them intensely, mentally hyping herself up to send an already written message. After about two weeks of thinking and mulling everything over, she decided that she wanted to meet them. She knew that it was risky, her school made her watch all those cautionary videos about strangers online, but she just couldn’t help herself.
This particular week made her even more sure in her decision. They weren’t able to text as often as they used to, as her friend was currently moving companies, due to Starship delaying their groups debut once again. Haerin missed them so much that it surprised her. The whole week she spent wondering about how they were doing, and if they were fine. Their separation was the final nail in the coffin that made her realize just how much she liked them.
Just as she was about to send the text containing her question about finally meeting up, someone came into the practice room she was in. All of the members stood up and greeted the manager that stepped inside. Haerin saw a young girl behind him, nervously clutching a bag in her hands.
“All right, as you all know a new trainee is joining us today. She will be one of your group's members from now on. I know it may feel a bit strange, since you haven’t met her before, but please be kind to her. She is very talented and we believe her to be a perfect fit with you guys, so please don’t disappoint us, okay?”
All of them nodded, saying yes, bowing to the manager as he left the room, leaving just the girl behind.
“Nice to meet you, my name is Kim Minji, and I’m the oldest. You can consider me an unofficial leader, so if you have any problems or concerns, come to me.”
Minji smiled at the newcomer, the rest of the girls following her example and introducing themselves as well.
“Nice to meet you all, my name is y/n and I was born in 2005, I hope we can be friends.”
She had a soft voice and her eyes almost never left the ground. Haerin was the same when she just joined, understanding the girl's position. She was sure that y/n would open up soon enough.
They had talked for around an hour, before Minji seemed to remember something.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Could you give me your number, so that I can add you to our group chat?”
Y/n nodded, waiting for Minji to take out her phone, before saying her phone number.
As she started speaking, Haerin paused for a moment. It felt like she had seen that number somewhere already. She quickly opened up her phone, scrolling through her contacts, trying to see if that's where she remembered it from.
“Oh.”
She let out quietly, her finger stopping at a very familiar contact profile. It seemed that her wish of meeting her mystery person came true quicker that she had imagined.
-end-
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Is I have a bunch of other stuff to finish, but the Stone Ocean Brainrot Is Strong and I need to get this out now.
not technically an AU, but since canon never went into detail I’m including it on the list, AU covering Post Stone Ocean and Emporio adjusting to Normal LifeTM
Not too many fully thought out bits because I came up with it. Literally an hour ago but I do have some fragments I want to work with so oNTO THE BULLET LIST >:D
Emporio accidentally making it storm HARD with Weather Report during that car ride so they have to pull over and wait it out because driving was too dangerous. This accidentally ends up forcing some bonding between the group and leads to them all becoming friends
The group gets very mixed vibes about Emporio, particularly about how he’s both incredibly smart but also knows very little about the world and is an emotional wreck
Emporio is both incredibly shy and awkward but also desperate for positive affection and proof they’re actually alive and here. Ends up being given One(1) head pat from Wes and bursts into tears right then and there
Then when they all try to comfort him it just makes him cry worse, and eventually this leads to him spilling some of his situation. Not the Universe Resetting Stuff, but how he was born in the prison, his mom hid him, how she was killed by a priest and he's been living in the walls ever since, terrified about said priest finding him, and how he was only able to get out thanks to his older sister, her friends and dad who were.... falsely?(not sure how to describe it, most of their situations are weird) imprisoned, but the priest killed them all too before Emporio could kill him back, so now while he’s technically safe he’s now completely alone
As one can image, They Were Not Expecting All That and collectively decide “yeah we’re keeping this kid safe,” leading to them sticking together for a bit when they get to their destination in the city so they can figure out what to do from here
If I’m remembering correctly, I believe that out of the four of them only Anasui would have his Stand so some chaos there when he learns this kid has two, one of which is pretty sentient and makes itself very clear that if any harm comes to Emporio There Will Be Consequences
Also speaking of Weather Report The Stand, it just kinda. Stares at Wes for a bit when nobody's looking. Things are definitely going to be awkward if the rest of the Gang ever get their Stands again
Emporio also talks to the Stand often, and it becomes a piece of comfort for him, however unfortunately it also has a habit of messing with the weather in response to Emporio’s emotions and wants. Florida can expect a lot of flash storms in the coming days
A few days into the five of them being friends and hanging out, they decide to go on a shopping trip and Emporio has stars in his eyes. He’d never been to a store before, let alone a mall. In the end Emporio easily gets the most stuff despite his reservations at the insistence of everyone else, and it ranges from stuffed animals to a new baseball and glove to new clothes(Emporio is positively giddy at the prospect of non-Green Dolphin clothes, and it both depresses the hell out of everyone but also his joy is infections and makes them all laugh)
At some point they end up meeting Foo Fighters, but not as a plankton. Instead they meet Foo’s old User before Pucci had stolen them and made them sentient. Funnily enough, their User’s personality is almost exactly the same as the Stand when they were sentient which is both another knife in Emporio’s heart but also a comfort because Foo gets to still exist in a sense
Jotaro being a good grandpa and recognizing the signs of Emporio’s trauma and helping him work through it. When the Stand aspect of Emporio’s trauma is revealed, he ends up contacting the SWF to get him a Stand Therapist so he won't have to hide it
Let This Boy Be Happy Damnit
#If this ever gets turned into a fic I can see it being almost exclusively being from Not Emporio's perspective#initial thoughts#echo of another#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#stone ocean#stone ocean spoilers#jjba part 6#jjba emporio#emporio alnino#jjba jolyne#jolyne kujo#jjba hermes#hermes costello#jjba anasui#narciso anasui#diver down#jjba weather report#weather report#jjba pucci#enrico pucci#jjba jotaro#jotaro kujo#jjba foo fighters#foo fighters
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WINXSONA FOR THE NEUTRAL CLASS MAGIC USER WOOHOOO
Name: Anesis (Greek name meaning “Comfort” or “Consolation”, kinda tying into her power in an abstract way).
Magic Title: Yogini of the Kapila’s Love (yes she has a powerful energy creature like Bloom, haven’t decided if she knows it yet but probably not).
Planet-Kingdom of Origin: Kriti (A planet with a love for anything tangible, felt, immanent and sensory - songs, flavors, paintings, pictures, plays, clothes and perfumes and anything of the sort!
It spills over into their faith, about a Goddess’ living presence in all aspects of the world, with many forms and faces. Evidence of her existence is shaky according to magical research, so it remains an odd quirk to many others. There's a reason, however, why they believe, which will be shown.
Kriti is matriarchal, but things have been getting slightly more balanced with modernization. It attracts plenty of tourists because of the various pleasures to experience, and even animal sacrifices if they’re not squeamish. It takes inspiration from South India, the more matriarchal societies of indigenous america such as Hopi and Tewa cultures, a bit from SEA metropolises like Manila and Bangkok, busy and lifesome and making you want to run around to do and buy everything.
Personality and Overall Being: Anesis comes across as ladylike, yet also warm and maternal for most people. Wanting to help others in her own seemly and measured way, in a friend group, she’s the emotionally strong and poised one, whose responsibility is second nature.
Despite this, she has a mischievous part of her prone to good-natured devilment. This is only shown amongst good friends and family, so she can blindside them with a highly uncharacteristic remark just to see their reactions.
The motherly and responsible parts of her personality cause her to take responsibility for things that aren’t her problem, leaving her open to be burdened with everyone else’s issues without consideration for herself. She has a deep need to feel useful and wanted, she was raised by loving caregivers (her mother, her aunts and uncles and occasionally the father, as per Kriti tradition) but they could pile big expectations on her as a girl from such a respected family.
Her two older sisters and older brother were often horrifically cruel to her and her younger and final sibling, Glyca. Having none of Anesis’ good nature, they were spoiled, entitled, bullying monsters. From protecting the very young Glyca she awakened her strong-but-nurturing streak, and from the damage it gave herself she got the need to feel needed.
Adding to the bullying, she often saw a being no one else could see - a cow spirit she called Kapila. Her older siblings detail how some food industries imprisoned and tortured cows for milk and tore their babies away from them for veal. Her mother scolded them when they were caught, but Kapila was the true comforter, dabbing her tears away with a nuzzle.
Being on the wealthier side, it wasn't unusual for Anesis’ family to have a toe dipped in magical society. When one friend of the family heard of these persistent visitations she insisted it was a sign of wondrous magical potential, and to consider introducing her to magic education. Anesis loved it, thinking it brought her closer to the phantom bovine, culminating in her enrollment in Vishuva Yogini Institute (despite the impersonal frost that last word gives off, it's a lovely place to be when you sense the atmosphere).
For once, she felt she was truly doing Mother proud! Euclea, the eldest and most foul in her torments, tried to copy her magical success. Her Yogini skills were lacking, but at a fairy academy called Alfea, she was doing good enough, and hadn't skinned any kittens to drown in vinegar quite yet.
But Kapila never left her side, she could appear as a divine woman in a flowered aureole, a pillar of shining cloud, and a cow. The cow was much larger and discernable powerful, like a queen of all beasts.
She said she was once a more godlike entity, like the great dragon. Kapila had sacrificed her own being, powdered into uncountable specks for the gift of ‘love’ for sentients, people! But it is the time of her return, the people have lost their way in greed, scorn of wisdom, and ghoulish violence and destruction of one another, all for what?
By gathering the produce of her lost pieces, the love in the soul of those that still have it, she’ll be crowned queen, no one will not hear her when she tells to remember their innate goodness, the flesh of their heart, which alone was irreplaceable.
Alesis’ mission was of She, the all present mother in the loving soul, the most important gift in totality of sentient beings. Unifying the world enough to set Her free, back here, it’s her strived-for masterpiece, a miraculous magnum opus that will set so many more free from what they've trapped themselves in, never alone whilst She’s by their side.
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Wooh! That was a lot, I apologize for the shit shitty oh so fucking shitalicious image quality it's the best I can do.
Her civilian fashion is like, wholesome 60s girl with that shot of Y2K yass-slay-bih cuntissima. She wears heavier makeup to look older. Although I suppose there's a bit of less mature feminity in the hair now and short lace skirt etc etc but still 69s inspired
Magic Winx definitely plays up the less mature side, with the large puritan collar thingy, cute cow head motifs across the hem and babydoll dress evoking a 60s "Dolly" (a fashion trend back then where they war more childish looking things, like Melanie Martinez but more DMT)
(Realised it looks like a nightgown, I'm gonna head cannon Kapila visited her mainly at night or even in her dreams)
need to flesh out her powers but for now thing of blooms divine do-much-more-that-normal-fire-fairy stuff, but swap out fire for , healing, emotions, souls and whatever princess peach has
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Arkhelios Adventures
"Focus on your breathing. You're doing fine."
Theo sat across from the deity of life, breathing as instructed. The wedding was over, but Lukas insisted on evaluating him, just in case there was a problem with the procedure they'd performed. Theo wasn't worried, he'd never felt this good in all his life. The all-consuming distraction of his lingering curse was gone whenever he tried to use magic. Lukas had already run through a bunch of spells, and Theo had cast them perfectly. Hell, he was floating in the air, conversing with a deity. If that wasn't proof of his magic being healed, he didn't know what was.
"Is this how it's always going to be?" Theo asked. "My magic? Everyone says that they can help me with it, but it always unravels, and I end up hurting myself and anyone around me."
"I'm not everyone," Lukas snapped. "I do happen to know what I'm doing. I've been around for a lot longer than your little coven or teachers. The matter has been settled."
"Is this what magic is supposed to feel like? I feel like I could do anything. My homework feels like a joke. I could probably break out of here on my own if I wanted."
Lukas shook their head. Teenagers.
"I wouldn't entertain your delusions of grandeur for long. You're powerful, yes, but largely untrained and ignorant of the true workings of the world. However strong you are, the world will not bend to your will anytime soon, to either you or Adam."
"Adam? I thought he was just getting a small power up from anchoring me? Does he feel all of this too?"
"The Ocean never gifts such power to a single person," Lukas replied cryptically. "The universe is binary. Light and dark, death and life, night and day. Power such as yours isn't entrusted to one person. You are programmed by your very nature to seek a partner, someone to share your burden with. It's a shame that you've had to choose so young. People change as they age, you would have been better to wait until you were older. Though I suppose your hand was forced. Even the Great Demons often demonically married their long term partners a long time ago. The Ocean doesn't trust a single one of us, and really, he shouldn't. Even if you are just tied to a coven, that's still preferable to a lone magic user holding onto power."
Theo still looked confused despite nodding his understanding. Lukas sighed. This boy might be strong, but he wasn't a very fast learner.
"No, Adam doesn't have the entirety of your abilities. He doesn't even have half. You are still sharing your power with a second person, even if it's not a 50/50 split. It's still a dangerous amount." They paused, thinking of another complication. "Look, I don't want to have 'The Talk' with you, but it would be better if you kept your hands to yourself for awhile. Your connection with Adam is stable, just like your magic, but you're still learning your true strength and I don't want to be getting a call to come fix something else you've done. What happened last time won't happen again, but again, blood magic goes wild for feasts, rituals, creating new life and sex. Learn your limits before you start adding fuel to blood magic. And for god's sake, you're almost fifteen! You don't need to be having sex."
Theo scowled at the deity, clearly not appreciating their opinion.
"You said that you've been fourteen before. What were your thoughts about sex when you were my age? Probably the same."
Lukas laughed.
"I overthrew the Crystal Cove monarchy when I was thirteen, just because I could. Trust me, you don't want to use me as an example of how to live your life. I've made a fair amount of enemies over the years, and multiple people have tried to kill me. Take my word for it and lay off the sex until you're older."
"You have kids. I've met them at school functions and Remy and Destiny...er, never mind about Remy. She thinks just a normal amount about Destiny."
"Is that so? I'm glad the twins are making connections. I've always encouraged them to trust in themselves and follow their hearts. They seem to have their father's disposition, though. The three of them all take their time and evaluate things carefully before charging into a situation. I suppose I should be grateful that they don't take after me in that regard. I'd never have time to keep an eye on you if I had to chase them around."
"They don't ever talk about you or Death," Theo remarked, trying to judge the deity's response. "Whenever I ask about their parents, they always change the subject."
"As they were told to. What kind of life will they have if they are trapped by people's expectations about their parents? It's better that we don't have to intervene with guests who would use our children to get access to their father and I. The house has been charmed to confuse anyone trying to find it, and reapers periodically stop by to ensure our safety. I take being a parent very seriously and would destroy anyone who even came close to hurting my children."
Theo looked outside, where his fathers were openly making out in one of the gardens, apparently happy with the joining. It would be embarrassing if there was anyone present with an opinion that Theo cared about. After all the drama during the ritual, there was no way that Theo was going to worry about who saw his parents kissing. Still, it was something gross that he didn't care to see when he looked out the window. The only person he wanted to see in that position was Adam.
"My parents are so embarrassing sometimes," he groaned. Outside, his parents were roaming their hands all over each other and tugging at their ceremonial robes. New connections were strong, but surely his parents had more restraint while their son could see them from an open window? "They'd better not be thinking of having even more kids now that they're joined. People already laugh at them for being thirty with so many kids."
"Parents are such tricky things, Theo. Never take yours for granted or their love for you. Not all of us were given that gift."
Lukas' voice was sad and wistful, their eyes focused on something that Theo couldn't see.
"Because you don't have parents, right? That must be lonely."
Lukas closed their eyes in response, fighting back a physical reaction. They hadn't survived all these millenia by sharing too much of their life. Truthfully, the worst times in their existence had all been caused by letting people into their heart, of being honest.
You failed her. You failed your family. She'd be here if it wasn't for you. We all wish you'd died instead.
Lukas shook their head to clear out the accusing voices that silently screamed each time they were reminded of family. The Arkhelian boy was staring at him with what could only be described as pity. Anger blazed across their mind at this probably sincere gesture of concern. They didn't need anyone's pity; they were untouchable. Indestructible. This poor teenager was the one who should be pitied, what with his long exile from home and his troubled family history.
With a practiced flick of their hand, Lukas summoned the picture frame from their desk at home into their hand and slumped into a chair. They had already run through countless scenarios to judge the risk of opening up to the teen and concluded that it wasn't likely that the little demon could hurt them. It seemed like every week, this boy was showing up on their radar, so it was in their best interest to make Theo an ally instead of a complication.
"This was taken at my wedding," they explained, briefly showing the photo to Theo. "My parents nearly ruined it with their drama, as usual. Dad's jealousy and Linus'...entire existence, really. They're like oil and water. Two violent, broken people who somehow created me. Trust me, little demon, I have parents and my life is still lonely. Treasure the ones that love you."
"You do have parents?" Theo replied curiously. "Were they gods too? Do you have any other family? Does Death?"
He stopped himself before he could ramble on further, potentially angering the deity in front of him. Lukas was clearly preoccupied with thoughts about family and Theo knew better than to push his luck.
"Hmm? Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you. I was just...nothing. Either way, your parents will be a lot happier going forward. You and Adam, too, now that we've sorted some things out. You absolutely have to make sure that he does not abuse the power you have given him, Theo. It's imperative. Bad things happen when magic as wild as yours can't be reigned in."
"What happened to you to make you so scared about me?" Theo tried again. "I promise that Adam and I will be careful. He's not going to hurt me."
A long silence fell over the room. Finally, Lukas cleared their throat and took a long breath.
"My parents were Linus Reeves and Luke Lane," they began. "They were from the ruins that would one day become Crystal Cove, but their military posting was in Pleasantview during the long decades of war. Linus' mother, Brandi Broke, was supposedly from Pleasantview, so I do have family from there, though my father is such a toxic person, I doubt they'd want to talk to me. If they weren’t all long dead, that is. Sometimes, it's hard to remember where and when I am. Once you see it all unfold before you, the centuries tend to blur together."
Theo nodded to be polite. A fourteen year old was barely able to contemplate twenty years, let alone a century.
"I came from two humans, just like you did. A little more was involved, of course, but the basics are the same. My parents each made up half of the power needed to make me, and I remained tethered to their combined energy in order to protect myself. Much like your connection with Adam, they unconsciously remained as a backup to me if anything went wrong. And something went wrong. "
Lukas paused, trying to say the words out loud that they could never bring themselves to say. Theo didn't notice, as his brain was already daydreaming about Adam.
"So if Adam and I have kids, they could be gods? Since we're connected like your parents?"
"What? No! Of course not! Weren't you listening to anything I just said? You're nothing like my parents. You can make baby demons, but you'll never make a god."
Lukas stared incredulously at the teenager in front of them.
"Sorry," Theo replied, rolling his eyes. "Advanced god genetics wasn't offered at either of my schools. You said I was powerful."
"You've had your magic stabilized for a few hours, and you're already ascending to a deity in your head? You must be fun at parties. There must be people just lining up to hang out with you."
"What went wrong with you?" Theo demanded, scowling at the deity currently mocking him. "Or whatever. I don't care anymore."
"For all your power, no one is invincible," Lukas warned, still smirking at the teen. "You'd do well to remember that for the future. There will be days when your confidence will be tested, and you may not always win. Sometimes, you lose. Other times, you lose everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything. My first loss was my little sister, Riley. I neglected my duties, and she died when I wasn't looking. I don't know if I could have saved her, but I'll always know that i didn't even try. I was only told of her death long after I could have helped."
"Wait, you're married to Death. Just get him to bring her back or visit her in the afterlife or whatever. It can't be that hard."
Lukas grimaced.
"You recall what you did to your precious Adam, right? Toyonaga's Trap? It obliterates the soul it touches until nothings left. Severe cases like that are irreversible and the person is never seen again. You're fortunate that Adam was pulled away from you before he suffered that fate."
Theo's overconfidence vanished in an instant, the pained noises Adam had made haunting his memory. Suddenly, all that power he could feel running through him didn't seem so great. He closed his eyes, but the screaming continued.
"Oh."
"My dad used to be afraid of what I could do, but he's gotten a lot better in the last few years," Theo offered. "Maybe with enough time, he'd-"
"Yeah, oh. The first demon sovereign and his heir? Also gone forever, drowned by the Ocean. There is so much that is dark and terrible in this world that you have no idea about. Something dark and terrible happened to Riley, and maybe it was never in my power to save her, but my brother believes it was. So I believe it was. Linus believes it was. Linus believes a lot of things, but never me."
"It's been millenia. His mind hasn't changed. It never will. Just be thankful for your embarrassing parents and how much they love you."
Theo nodded. When he thought about from an outside perspective, his parents were pretty good. Even just compared with Adam's mom, his parents were great. He would never tell them that, but he'd try to remember it more often.
"Since you seem to think that your power can now rival a gods, it only seems fair to warn you about those who feel your powers should be theirs. You stand out, Theo, and that makes you a target. Take it from me, never let your guard down. They may try to take your abilities for themselves, and if they can't, they may threaten the lives of those you love to make you do something for them. Never let anyone but Adam know your true strength, and make absolute sure that you can trust him before you do. I can't always show up to bail you out of a bad situation, you know."
"Yeah, I will. I get it. Trust no one but Adam."
Lukas rolled their eyes. Teenagers. It was always teenagers who made them want to scream into a pillow.
"Again, not exactly what I said to you. But I'll leave you here to go spend time with your family. I have other commitments for today and you clearly don't need my help anymore. For your sake, I hope to not see you for a very long time."
In an instant, Lukas vanished from sight, leaving Theo alone with his thoughts. Today had been the most eventful day of his young life, and he still didn't fully understand it. His next letter to Adam was going to be an interesting one.
#sims 2#arkhelios#roman bellamy#sim: theo bellamy#abe chun#arkhelios adventures#theo bellamy#lukas lane
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Are you really fully nonverbal since birth? If so what technologies are you or your caregivers using to run this blog? Do you use discredited techniques such as Facilitated Communication, or the Rapid Prompting Method? I am glad that people on Tumblr are starting to recognize that the severely autistic exist but wary of many of these “nonverbal blogs” run by (I’m assuming) either FC users who have no control over the words attributed to them, or late-regressed people who despite losing verbal abilities have the cognitive capacity (even with self-described profound ID) that individuals like for example my older brother and those in his day program could only dream of.
You seem to have sent parts of this ask to many people, haven't you? Not curious at all, huh? 😄
Alright, gonna answer it anyway.
I never learned to speak, yes, so that's "from birth" for the lack of a better expression.
I wrote about how I communicate here:
Every nonverbal/nonspeaking person has their own individual method of communication that works for them best. RPM is very good for apraxic people who can't type. Some learn to write, but that's rare. They can't reliably press the buttons on an AAC device either, because their body "has a mind of its own", so to speak. Therefore spelling is very good because they can correct any mistakes their body makes quicker and they get immediate feedback by another person on the letter they just touched. Many apraxic autistics don't struggle with language, they're "only restricted by their body" and therefore this method is ideal for them.
I can't tell you anything about facilitated communication, though.
I think you wrongly assume that everyone who never learned to speak can't communicate on their own online. That's true for some, but not for everyone. I personally can express myself best online, it's harder in real-life. I don't have ID, as stated in my blog description, and I type on my phone. No other aids required. I used to have an AAC device, but I made a lot of progress, and at some point it became too restrictive to me (because I knew more and more words and wanted to use them to be more nuanced, something that's rare for people with language disorders), which was when I switched to typing.
"Many of these nonverbal blogs" use AAC devices and can very well control what button they press, what the buttons mean, and once you make an effort to actually understand their speech pattern, you very well understand what they want to tell you, and that they're quite comfortable with what the device allows them to write. Even those with profound ID. No hate, but this sentence sounds very hostile. Never compare autistics you know to autistic you don't know in real life. You're prone to generalising everyone that way. Old and very common and unfortunate mistake of people who can speak.
You have to try to understand every person individually. Everyone thinks and communicates and writes differently and individually. And it's absolutely wrong to still assume that RPM is bad, even though RPM users have stated that they absolutely benefit from this method multiple times. They're always ignored just because some speaking people can't comprehend that assisted communication isn't manipulative or "speaking over them". It really isn't. And it's pretty ableist to always insist that because that way they ignore what those people have to say. And THAT actually is speaking over them then. Not the method.
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hands you an excuse to talk about the Mori was there for the Arahabaki project
-Graciously accepts offer-
I mean Mori and Chuuya's dad probably knew each other. Irl Kesuke Kashimura (Nakahara Chuuya's father) had seen Mori Ougai as an idol and modeled his life after him. Knowing how Asagiri likes to flip the mentor/mentee roles (Dazai and Akutagawa, Verlaine and Rimbaud) I'd put money on this being the case too, with Chuuya's father (described as being a lot older) being a mentor for Mori during the war, and possibly for N as well.
Mori had heavy interest in using ability users for military means, so when he heard his mentor's child had an ability that could potentially be used for what N was researching, ofc he'd jump in on that. I don't think he had more of a role than that though, maybe he covered up Chuuya's kidnapping, knowing his father trusted Mori?
This would certainly answer why Mori seemed to know Chuuya so we'll, despite just meeting him In Fifteen. And why he was so insistent on Chuuya joining the Mafia.
#anyway i would bet money on this theory now#im so hell-bent on it#it would be such a good twist#bsd#asks#mori arahabaki theory#man i need a name for it at this point#patented by me
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Amare & Luqman Family and how it relates to Momo and Reborn.
Momo comes from a large family of psychics [and magic users]. It's more so on her paternal side [Luqman] than on her maternal [Amare], but there still exists those who practice on the Amare side.
What are their abilities? Both the Matriach of the Luqman family: Momina Mustafa and the Patriach of the Amare family: Hassan Amare are mediums who work with spirits. Specifically two kinds: jinns and ruxaan. They are also able to see the supernatural in general, see: visions, evil, curses, and can even rid said evil and curses from a person. They are both very respected in their communities and people from near and far come to ask them advice or help.
These same abilities have passed down to some of the next generations but not all. And unlike the Matriach and Patriach these generations do not have the level of spiritual companionship, and certainly no ruxaan as the ruxaan are ancestral spirits who only move to the next host after their first die. Instead they may just have the single jinn companion as company.
However there are those in the Luqman family who are also known for dabbling in magic, curses specifically. As a result there are those who'd rather stay clear of the Luqman's unless they are dealing with Momina the Matriach, mainly because it's known that they'll curse their own flesh and blood if their mood is soured.
Despite how mired in the supernatural her family is, it isn't very much talked about in her immediate family other than to say things like "they said ayaayo Momina became as strong as an ox when she was possessed this time!" Or "awowe Hassan had the jinns play a trick on poor ayaayo Sarah again." In fact, they move as though their own little unit is perfectly normal.
Momo, however, was not quite. She had been able to see these same spirits since she was as young as she could remember. She didn't think much of them, although they could be annoying and persistent. There was a jinn child who'd wake her up at 5am every day to play, and if she didn't, the room would have a huge gust of wind sweep through it until she agreed. She always kept this to herself, however, as she didn't think to say anything. It wasn't until she was preparing to leave for Namimori* at the age of 14 that her father, Farhan, spoke about how at the tender age of five, he had an ability as well. His ability was to see the death of others before it happened, and it came about after a jinn approached him as he was playing. Momo's eyes widened as she listened and by the time he was finished, she was so excited she blurted out "aabo, I see them too!" Unfortunately her aabo didn't believe her, nor did her siblings who poked fun. This upset her and she decided it was best not to tell others. It didn't make much sense to her as they were aware of her ayaayo and awowe, but it wasn't until she befriended the jinns around her that she found out that her family wasn't totally aware of how deeply it ran in their family.
As for why she moved to Namimori? Momo was also dealing with health issues since she was young and it only worsened as she got older. It got to the point where her parents considered moving her to another country in hopes of it improving. Namimori, Japan had not been their first, second or third choice but it was suggested by none other than awowe Hassan and ayaayo Momina, separately. Awowe Hassan had mentioned it over the phone with his daughter, saying he had a vision and that this would do her good. Whereas ayaayo Momina had moved in recently with the family as her own health had worsened. She mentioned it when she heard her son, Farhan, talk of it. Initially her parents argued, they've become overprotective of Momo since her health began to decline but awowe Hassan and ayaayo Momina insisted. They then revealed that she'd be fine as "the jinns would protect her." That was when her parents were told that their eldest daughter really could see spirits. It wasn't until soon after that Momo was being taught by her ayaayo about jinns, spirits in general, curses and evil and how to deal with them all. This was the first time she had felt heard regarding this subject so she gushed forth all that she had dealt with up to this point. By the time she had gone to Namimori, she was a lot more equipped and intune with her abilities.
What abilities does Momo have? Outside of being able to see and interact with spirits [and thus gain information from them], she can occasionally get visions, see curses and evil, also she can map out locations in any area. She learned from her ayaayo Momina how to protect herself from curses and evil. She is still young and has problems with trusting her abilities due to only recently being trained in them.
Reborn's relationship with Amare and Luqman elders:
Reborn, during his many attempts to break the curse had in fact heard tell of this family. Specifically the Luqman, and like the others he would rather have stayed clear of a family that cursed one another as easily as they breathed. But as his desperation grew, and he looked into ayaayo Momina, he decided it was worth a shot. Unfortunately, he did not get his curse broken like he wanted. Instead he was told that the "man" wasn't to be trifled with and to guard that pacifier with his life. It had further plummeted him into depression but the elder at least gave him something to ease his nightmares.
Reborn and Momo: first meeting
When Momo first saw Reborn, a shock went down her spine and she could see that this infant had been cursed. Although it didn't look quite like how curses looked to her, it was a muddled and dark shade of green that surrounded him. It horrified her! Who could do that to a child? She asked her jinn companions but they only replied that "this world could be dark." She was, naturally, unable to leave this alone so whenever she came across Tsuna she would hand him charms to give to Reborn. Tsuna was confused but accepted it.
Reborn, however, did not think much of this child initially. There was a bolt of surprise upon hearing her last name but he dismissed it. There were many Luqman's. It wasn't until she was giving him charms that he did a deep dive into her background and found out she was from that Luqman family. With his suspicions now raised, he made sure to keep an eye out on her. However she didn't seem to be much of a threat. In fact, she seemed rather...oblivious? And as such the arcobaleno thought it'd be good if the Vongola got their claws in her. How wonderful if the 10th heir were to have a psychic on their team!
#khr ocs#momina luqman: character spotlight#amare family#luqman family#reborn (khr)#long post#this is so long djdjd#but its taking so long to get this out because there is a lot of background info so 🤷🏾♀️#relationship: momo and reborn
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Do you know if bannedwebsites ever remade? I miss her.
/pusheen-the-radical/707800096738263040/menalez-menalez-bannedwebsites-menalez
I'm so mad shit like this made us lose a great woman and ally. They just came in and decided obviously anything asking for basic respect is instead evil and homophobic. There was no reason to assume it was about wanting to invade lesbian spaces specifically that was such an asspull, it was obviously about LGB spaces as a whole. They're not bi so I don't expect them to get it but no, "everywhere else is a you-friendly space" is just not true for bi women. They always want to equate how we're identical to het women and then say we're being homophobic if we don't agree. that post speaks to me so much because when i dated a man i lost so much of my support network. its about how people, and other bi women too, dehumanize us and see us as 'ruined', call us nasty names behind our back, and encourage other people to also dehumanize us on threat of ostracizing them too. and i was lucky, i've seen bi women who were abused by homophobes who then had it much worse, with people even supporting their het abusers, or attacking them at LGB support groups. One woman I met wasn't even dating the man that SAd her but people still said she had no place in LGB groups.
No I have no idea :( though I agree I thought she was great. (though tbh even if I did know if she'd remade, I wouldn't out someone unless I explicitly knew they were trying to find old followers. Psst people sending me asks about other tumblr users - this is why I haven't responded, sorry). And yeah oh god, I remember this shit. I'm so sorry to hear about your experiences. Unfortunately I've heard a lot of things like that. I experienced something very similar, with a lot of my friends ditching me very quickly when I figured out it was bi. It was definitely hurtful, isolating, and set me up for a lot of bad relationships (ironically mostly with older men, since I was suddenly frozen out from most social gatherings on campus). I've unfortunately heard from a staggering amount of bi people at this point on similar things, especially about being treated badly by LGB groups after being assaulted or abused in some way. I've mentioned this repeatedly on this blog, but it baffles me how biphobia seems to intensify whenever bisexuals are victimized by heterosexuals, as if being shown that we DO experience homophobia makes them angry? On the micro level, if people find bisexuality so abhorrent for whatever reason, it's not like we can force them to be better friends/people, and there's no amount of messages like this that'll make those people act any different. They're proud of how they treat bisexuals just like those people are proud to read malicious intent in even the mildest pleas for respect or civility. On the macro level it's like... yeah we do need to challenge this notion that we become immune to past, present, and future homophobia the second we're in an other-sex relationship and therefore it's okay to treat us exactly like heterosexuals. I don't know why they think people that were homophobic to us will suddenly treat us well, or that we won't face homophobia in the future. For the millionth time, it's really extra nasty to say this about bi women considering how often they are abused by their male partners. But that of course is discounted (despite it being directly addressed in the third post), this is obviously a nasty evil plot by bihets to pretend to be oppressed. And yeah it's funny how they always end up comparing us to heterosexuals and insisting we're just as widely beloved and supported as they are. It's pathetically transparent since something as simple as "don't treat bi women as extensions of men" seems to cause so much indignation.
#also the digs at banned about how obviously as lesbians they could read it correctly and she couldn't#when banned is also a lesbian :X
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