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songmingisthighs · 3 years ago

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[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do some Romano + Prussia x royal reader (separate) headcannons? I'm a sucker for a good forbidden romance and would be happy to see what you want to do with it. Thank you!

Yes, of course! Sorry for the kinda late response--I got carried away writing other things. What a coincidence that I've been doing a lot of exploring in fantasy! The reader is referred to as she/her.

Forbidden Romance Headcanons - Prussia and S. Italy

Prussia - The earnest pickpocket and sheltered princess

Unfortunately, Gilbert is on the wrong side of history. As an albino, he's been an outcast ever since he was born. In an age of superstition and class divide, his parents had no problem abandoning an extra mouth to feed. Especially when they were a demon with magical powers. Left to fend for himself as a baby, he only ever survived thanks to the generosity of an old neighbor. When they passed away due to old age, he had to get on by himself on the streets. Stealing, lying, whatever it takes to get some quick cash. And he's been doing it ever since he was five.

He loved fairytales ever since he was a kid. His guardian always told him these stories before bedtime, after all. They said it was good luck to give the princess a flower, and he remembered this a few years later during the royal parade in town. Pushing through the crowd of onlookers, he held out a small dandelion hoping you would take it. Before the guards could swat him away, you took the flower with a smile. All you remembered from that time was a small and dirty face gleaming up at you. And, of course, a pair of striking red eyes you would never forget.

In his adolescence, he became a thief with quick hands. It wasn't until he took on the most dangerous job of all did he make himself a public enemy. Stealing the royal family's jewels. And he would've gotten away with it if he wasn't forced to take a detour through the princess's bedroom. Unbeknownst to him, you were wide awake. Immediately, you recognized him as the little boy from that day. Without thinking, you hid him in your wardrobe until the guards left. That was the start of a strange friendship forged between two people from two worlds--a dirt-poor criminal and the well-loved princess of a thriving kingdom.

He visits you from time to time by climbing up the side of the castle. When he first did it, you practically throttled him by his collar, screaming, “Do you have a death wish? They'll throw you to the lions if you get caught!”. He simply responds with, “The awesome me never gets caught! That's why I'm here, ja?” Soon, this becomes routine until you learn to trust him.

Gilbert loves gloating about his adventures as a street rat, whether it's about singlehandedly beating up gangs of bullies or outrunning the palace guards. As a sheltered person of royalty, his stories reflect experiences alien to you. But it opens your eyes to things you've never seen, and it's very fascinating.

If he's not telling grossly exaggerated anecdotes of his greatness, he'll bring in board games and cards he “borrowed” from his friends. You've never played with them before as your parents deemed them unrefined. It fills him with pride to see you enjoying yourself so much, especially when he's teaching you how to play.

You don't go out very often, so he always brings back little trinkets and souvenirs. When you found out he stole them all, you would hit him on the head and tell him off. “Where did you get these from? Stealing and giving these to the princess--do you know how stupid that sounds?” Then, you would pinch his cheek until he tears up and admits his wrongs. “I-I thought you would like them, okay? I wanted to give them to you as a present...” The next day, you would accompany him to the shops he robbed and pay the owners back.

He gets upset and embarrassed when he realizes those gifts aren't gifts at all. Not when you paid for them yourself! One of the ways he shows affection is through giving gifts, but that unfortunately clashes with not having money. So he's eager to make something out of himself, even if he has to work as a bottom feeder and face unfair treatment for what he looks like. When you find out, his boss gets one hell of a time dealing with you. After that, he uses whatever small amount he earned to buy something for you.

As he grows out of his old habits, he becomes more honest. In fact, he's so determined to prove himself that he shows up one day with a homemade board game scribbled out on a spare piece of parchment. He's nervous and twiddling his fingers, and that's when you know you have to help him get back onto his feet. He's so touched by your kindness that he shows you a secret he's been hiding forever--he can do magic. It's one of his skills that let him become so good at stealing in the past.

After some practice to touch up his abilities, you try convincing your parents to let him work in the palace as an all-rounder. With the magic dancing in his fingertips, there's nothing he can't do. He has a green thumb, good reflexes, and the horses in the stables listen to him better than the caretaker! He can't forget that you encouraged him to let go of his doubts and previous identity as a petty thief. There's nobody in the world he looks up to more.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, he's invited to a ball to celebrate. Once again, he finds himself anxious to see you in your dress, especially when he's quite glammed up himself with his suit and hair slicked back. While you teach him how to dance, he tells you he looks ridiculous. But you think otherwise and make it explicit. That's when Gilbert realizes he's completely smitten with you. He embarks on another journey to improve himself until he thinks he deserves you.

South Italy - The plebeian pâtissier and renegade royal

War has ravaged the kingdom and eaten into the state's reserves, leaving inflation rates at an all-time high. The suffering middle and working-class take it up to their rulers in a coup d'état, killing the king and queen. And now, they're searching for the princess amidst the chaos of an ungoverned dominion. Romano couldn't be more indifferent to such a cause, only ever caring about putting food on the table. He works day and night helping out his family's bakery, making what he can to get by. However, he's forced to take a side when he finds a girl on his doorstep on the verge of starvation.

Unable to turn away someone in need, he nurses you back to health. However, he does so with spite, wondering to himself why he has to give what little he has left to a princess. When you feel better after a few days, he's eager to send you off but changes his mind as you leave. Romano can't bear to let you face certain death, or worse, knowing how bitter the townspeople are about the unpopular war. So he welcomes you back with a sharp sigh with his head turned away. “Alright, alright, you can stay. Now stop making that pathetic face, you spoilt principessa--it's depressing.”

He relays a few house rules as conditions for keeping you around. You have to help him with chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, everything. Considering you always had someone doing those tasks for you, you're hopeless at it. He'll swat your hand and show you how to do things right with an annoyed scowl. “No, no, no, no, no! You're doing it all wrong. This is how you do it. What do they even teach you in that palace, huh? Books? Maths? Books about maths? Well, they won't keep you alive, you know!”

Because he's so observant and strict, he's a good teacher, and soon, you get the hang of everything. Before, he had to open his mouth to correct you every few seconds, but now, he can just watch you do his work with his arms crossed. It's a little demeaning to have someone watch your every move, but inside, he's relieved you're finally fitting in and not a complete waste of his time and resources. In reality, he never wanted to send you off and hoped he could just handle an extra mouth to feed. Not that he'll ever tell you.

When you're out and about, he makes you wear a cloak to hide your identity. When he's forced to interact with people, he'll hold you close and play everything off without arousing suspicion. Even if your hood falls off, he won't react--he's screaming inside in panic, but he's a great actor when he needs to be. You're totally not the princess, just a crazy similar doppelganger. The cloak is there so that people don't make a fuss. When they leave, he'll turn to you and scream how much of an idiot you are. But really, he was just worried to death--and you have a feeling he was. So you hug it out and leave him cussing with a red face.

As you two grow closer, his cousin Antonio notices how much he cares about you despite his efforts to hide it. It's a problem. He approaches him and warns that if people found out he was hiding the princess, he would get killed with her. Romano heats up and screams, telling him that he already knew what he got into the second he let you into his home. When he's asked why he's still keeping you around, he responds with, “It's not fair that her parents fucked up, and she has to face the consequences. Just like how I never wanted to run this stupid bakery--I wanted to be a painter, not burn my hands in the kitchen all day!”

Unbeknownst to him, you overhear the conversation. The next morning, he discovers that you're gone and loses his head. While he's screaming and crying, he's swarmed with the possibilities of what happened to you. He's a bit of an overthinker, but his paranoia is deserved--were you taken away in the middle of the night? Are you even still alive? He spirals down a path of self-loathing until he confronts how much he misses you, then his regret of never being frank with his feelings. Romano didn't understand what he had until he lost it. To say this was a wake-up call--to be more honest with himself--would be an understatement.

A week later, you return unscathed. Turns out, you left to stay with the owner of a paint shop owner your family always supported and bought from. You present him with a gift of some high-end oil paints, brushes, and canvases. When he sets them all down, he'll pull you into a tight hug, and once again, tell you how stupid you are. While he has you in his coils, you smile to yourself as you pat his hair, happy that you also got something in return. Some transparency. “I just thought I'd give you something... For all the trouble.” You'd say, and he'd shush you with a few hard kisses. “You were never a trouble. I wanted you to stay, so I'm more to blame than you.”

As the political situation of the country calms down, so do the anxieties of angry neighbors pounding on his door. You return to his home much to his content. Now that you're just as good as him at icing cakes, you spend more time running the bakery. This gives him some time to paint, and he can't be happier. Once you both get settled, he discovers another hobby on top of making art. Making coffee! The bakery evolves into a café lavishly decorated with his paintings, and it becomes the most popular establishment in town. You both realize how overrated it is to want to be anything more--you never bring up your title ever again.

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raointean · 3 years ago

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Half-elven week: Day 5 - Legacy

"Eldarion, come with me." Eldarion looked up from his books. His mother stood in his doorway, beckoning him.

"Where are we going, Mother?" He stood to follow her and grabbed her hand.

"We go to see friend of your father's whose child was recently born. It is my belief that the two of you will grow very close and you shall guide them as they grow." Eldarion looked up at her, confused and annoyed.

"But Mother, I am a prince. Why should I be the one to teach the child? I ought to learn from those above me, not waste my time teaching one so far below me." Arwen raised her eyebrows at him incredulously. How could he be so blind as not to see his own hypocrisy? Nevermind, she would address that another time.

"My father always said to me, 'Care for those smaller than yourself, Arwen. Protect them and teach them and they we be your legacy.' I understood not those words at the time, but they are clear to me now and so I pass them to you. Care for those smaller than yourself, Eldarion." Eldarion sighed and rolled his eyes but followed her anyway.

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"Ada?"

"Yes Arwen?" Elrond looked up from his book, a novel by an edain author of Rohan, to see his daughter's tiny face peeking and the bushes that obscured him from the rest of the garden.

Arwen clambered up onto the bench to sit beside him. "Why do 'Dan and 'Ro follow me around and coddle me so? I am plenty old enough to wander the house on my own."

Elrond laughed and set his book down. "I think it may have something to do with what I told them. It was a phrase that your... grandfather told me often as a boy."

Arwen looked up at him curiously. "What did he say?" She had missed his hesitation about her grandfather.

"He said 'Care for those smaller than yourself, Elros.' He often got us mixed up, 'Protect the young ones. Guide them well, for they will be your legacy.'" Elrond’s eyes saddened, thinking of his fathers' fates.

"And that is what you said to 'Dan and 'Ro?" He nodded. Arwen thought for a moment. "Can you un-tell them? Please?"

Elrond snorted. And then he laughed. He drew her close to his side and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I will tell them to give you your space, little one."

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"Maedhros?"

Maedhros looked towards the elfling walking his way. "Which one are you?" They had taken the twins months ago and they had finally stopped trying to escape, understanding the the Fëanorians were their best hope for survival. Maedhros could still not tell them apart however.

"I am Elrond." Maedhros turned back to watch the treeline.

"'Tis late. You should be asleep." Elrond looked down ashamedly.

"I could not sleep. Maglor was teaching us of Doriath this afternoon and it left a question that burns at my heart." Maedhros looked at him and, after a moment, gestured for him to sit beside him on the rock.

"What was your question?"

"Why did you search for my uncles? They were lost in the woods and you knew that they did not hold the silmarill. It could not have been your oath that motivated you."

Maedhros looked down upon the child. That was a lot of large words from such a small being. "I searched for them because they were children. They did not deserve to die."

When Elrond sat in silence, he continued. "My father once told me something a very, very long time ago, before everything. The jewels, the oath, even before we left for Middle Earth. He told me 'Care for those younger than yourself, Maitimo.' For that was my name then. Guide them, show them the way for, if nothing else, they will be your legacy.' That is why I tried to save your uncles, and why we took you in. Our legacies are fire and blood and death but, perhaps through the two of you, we may atone for some of what we have done."

Elrond blinked... and blinked again. That was not the answer he had expected. It was much deeper and more complex than he had thought. Maedhros took notice and sent him back to bed.

As he gazed back into the treeline, he could not help but think of his father. All of this had happened because Fëanor could not be satisfied. He had seven sons that he had cared for and taught, but he had not accepted that as his legacy. He wanted more.

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"Maitimo, come and see. Your brother has been born!" Maitimo bounded over. Only twenty years old and he was already a big brother!

Fëanáro directed him to sit in a nearby chair and hold his arms like so. Then, he gently set the sleeping babe in his arms. Maitimo wondered at how tiny the child was, his fingers spindley, his nose just a dot, his ears like the shells of a small snail.

"What is his name Atto?"

Fëanáro looked down on the two of them, tears welling in his eyes and love in his heart. "Makalaurë, his name is Makalaurë."

Maitimo looked down at his young brother and suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. How was he to be a big brother to this tiny, delicate creature? He feared he would crush him by accident.

Fëanáro noticed his son's breathing speed up. "What is it my son? What is wrong?"

Maitimo choked out a sob. "I don't know how to be a big brother. I will break him, I know it!"

Fëanáro chuckled as he took the baby back into his arms. "You will not break him. Soon he will grow and be strong enough to play with you. From there, your job will come naturally to you I think."

Maitimo looked at him, lip trembling and eyes still filling with tears. "But what is my job?"

"Your job comes down to a saying that my atto once told me. 'Care for those younger than yourself. Teach them, guide them, protect them. If your life amounts to nothing else, they will be your legacy.' To put it more simply, teach him what you know. If you can do that, you will be great among elder brothers."

Maitimo smiled and reached his arms out for the baby. Fëanáro set Makalaurë in his arms once again. Maitimo was no longer afraid of crushing him.

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"Fëanáro? Come here a moment." Fëanaró rolled his eyes. Ever since his father had married that... woman, he had been trying to get them to bond. Now Indis had gone and reproduced, which meant that Fëanáro would have to "bond" with the whelp as well. Ugh.

"Yes father?" He got up and walked into the room where his father was holding the child.

"Come, meet your brother. I have named him Ñolofinwë." He gave his father a nonplussed look and bent over to look at the beastly creature.

"Greetings, son of my father. Just know, I care nothing for you. Goodbye." He straightened and made to walk away, but Finwë called him back.

"Fëanáro, sit down! You are going to hold your brother so that he may become familiar with you." Fëanáro rolled his eyes again and stomped to a chair and slumped into it, arms crossed.

"It is only half my brother." He muttered under his breath. Finwë rose and passed the baby to him.

He held him a moment and asked his father, "And why am I to care about this?"

Finwë sighed. He would never stop trying to make peace within his family, but he knew already that it was unlikely to ever come to fruition. "You should always care for those younger than yourself Fëanáro. They will be your legacy. Whatever you teach them, wherever you guide them, they will remember. You will always be a part of them."

Fëanáro looked down upon his brother in disdain. Perhaps he could teach it to be like him. Perhaps it would become his loyal servant forever. Perhaps having a brother wouldn't be so bad.

#halfelvenweek #eldarion #arwen #elrond #elladan #elrohir #maedhros #feanor #maglor #finwë #legacy #definitely was not thinking about hamilton while writing this #Fëanor didn’t take his own advice #Fëanor was an angsty teenager

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kozzax · 4 years ago

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so recently the folks over at @petrichormeraki have been working on a silent tommy au because of a few asks talking about mute!tommy. and one of the things that’s canon in that au is the fact that xisuma is the only mortal hermit. i took this as free reign to work out why each of the other hermits is immortal. some of them are gods, some of them are demigods, some of them are supernatural beings, but none of them (except xisuma) can be killed through feasible means.

because of the sheer amount of immortal hermits there just to live out immortality in peace, i like to think hermitcraft is sometimes referred to jokingly as ‘the retirement zone’ by other immortal beings. most mortals outside of hermitcraft wouldn’t know the hermits are all like... gods and shit.

hermits + their immortality under the cut because oh god this was supposed to be a fast post but i accidentally wrote... a lot. whoops!

Grian is a watcher. He was a watcher before he joined hermitcraft. That’s... just. Canon Grian Lore TM. Not much to explain with him.

Cleo and Joe are both immortal by virtue of no longer being capable of being mortal. As both of hem are undead beings (cleo a zombie and joe a ghost), killing them again isn’t... possible. In addition to this, at some point during their afterlife, they managed to gather enough power between the two of them to be labelled as the “Twin Gods of Life and Death”. Which one is life and which one is death? That depends on the day.

Cub and Scar are definitely not gods. But the deals the two made with the Vex are almost more of an insurance on their immortality. The Vex protect their ConVex as a dragon protects its hoard. Not only can the two of them hold their own in a fight, but their respawn is insured by the fact that even if they were to permadie, the Vex would bring them back anyways.

False is the Queen of Hearts, Heads, and Body Parts. She’s also a vampire. In a similar vein, Ren is a werewolf. Both of them can only be killed through very specific means, and neither can die of old age. Throughout their many years in the worlds, they’ve gathered tons of skills and allies. Although now they’ve both stepped down, content to enjoy their peaceful lives and chill out in Hermitcraft, each of them was once a ruler of their respective factions. The ‘queen’ part of False’s title was never just a title.

Etho was granted immortality by a council of gods, after they took a liking to his interesting antics and kept an eye on his longstanding worlds.

Doc, BDubs, Beef, and Etho (again) were all brought to Hermitcraft as the last ‘mortal’ members to join. The general idea was that maybe they could give Xisuma some company and relief from the antics of his immortal and godly friends. This did not happen. Instead, the universe decided it was going to give all of them godly powers in their own right. Etho himself may have been immortal, but he and the rest of the NHO all grew infinitely more powerful after leaving the jungle of season 5.

Stress is a dryad. She can control and warp the nature around her in strange and beautiful ways. In addition to this, were her body to ever get fully destroyed in a way that would prevent her from respawning, a new body would instead form for her out of the nature wherever she died. This is how ice queen stress came about in season 6.

Impulse actually bullshitted his own way into immortality. Where most of the other hermits were either brought into it by someone else or born into it, Impulse actually discovered the secret of immortality while he was trying to figure out how totems of undying were made. He now knows how to create totems and how to become immortal, though he won’t tell anyone else if they ask. Part of the process of creating totems involved...

...Tango, who is a demon. As a demon, his powerset includes but is not limited to both pyrokinesis and an affinity for very very large and very very deadly animals. He doesn’t use those abilities on Hermitcraft often, but they’re in his skillset for sure.

As a byproduct of the immortality, Zedaph showed up in the current timeline. His immortality is... strange, because it’s not technically immortality. Zedaph, as a person, is mortal and can die. Zedaph, as a being, though, is one of billions of Zedaphs in the universe; each of whom is nearly identical to the others; and whenever one Zedaph dies, he is replaced instantly with a new Zedaph; a functionally identical Zedaph to the one who died. Nobody’s quite sure how this process works, but Zed claims it’s through “time travel”.

Jevin, as a slime, can actually inhabit any portion of his slime that he wants; no matter how small the amount. Even if he were limited to one singular molecule of slime, he could still exist around that molecule and regenerate slime until he was fully present again, though it might take a little while for him to complete that process. The only way to kill Jevin is by fundamentally altering the chemical makeup of every single molecule of slime he’s ever had anywhere. It simply won’t happen. He does use his abilities to get out of conversations, if he’s feeling particularly annoyed at the time.

TFC is potentially one of the most interesting hermits, in his prior responsibilities. It’s easy to forget that he’s not mortal, considering how frighteningly average he acts in his day to day life. One peek into any of his bunkers, though, and you’re hit right in the face with a bold reminder. TFC used to be one of the gods responsible for shaping the very worlds players would walk on; more specifically, he was in charge of cave systems and mineshafts for a long time. He’s retired from that life and is having a lovely time in Hermitcraft, just vibing.

Wels gained his immortality through a deal with the patron god of the kingdom he grew up serving. He made this deal as a young knight and watched for decades as the kingdom grew and prospered, Wels himself known far and wide as quite probably the best warrior of them all. After being dismissed honorably by the kingdom, as he’d been protecting them for many decades now and the rulers honestly felt he deserved a break, the god he’d made a deal with finalized this immortality. He joined Hermitcraft not long after, and has taken up a spot doing his part to protect the hermits.

Iskall was somewhat of an enforcer, for the gods. Were a god to be acting particularly out of line, Iskall would be called in to bring them to the council for trial. Sometimes his targets came peacefully, sometimes he’d have to use force to bring them in. No matter what he had to do, there wasn’t a single target he missed. He both can and will kill a god if he must. Technically, Iskall’s still on call, but generally councils don’t call on him unless absolutely necessary anymore.

Hypno made a deal with a god many years ago, trading his mortality for the ability to see hundreds of thousands of alternate paths for the future. He wanted to chronicle them, and he still spends one or two days a week writing out winding paths of the future. When he’s not working, he wears his bandana to cover up the third eye that allows him this insight. This helps him focus on the now, rather than the futures that may or may not be.

Xb is an eldritch being with reality warping abilities. He has them under fairly good control, most of the time. They really only become an issue when he gets too much pent-up magical energy at once; examples of this being things like season changes. His season 7 base is built around what happens when he needs to release. It’s a post apocalypse world, and the apocalypse was him.

Mumbo is definitely both magical and immortal, but the specifics of his powers are incredibly unclear. The hermits know it has something to do with redstone, maybe, and that the unpredictability of Hermit Challenges are a reflection of his strange and confusing powerset, but nobody’s really sure where his immortality stems from. Every time you ask him he gives you a different answer. The mumbonis are all different joking theories as to where his powers came from.

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years ago

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32. Reasons to not be in love with draco malfoy by harry

Prompt used- caressing the other's back | ANGST/FLUFF | UNREQUITED LOVE | HURT/COMFORT | Eighth year harry finds it hard to admit that he infact loves draco ..

" is it so bad harry that you like him ? " Hermione asked as a sad look dawned upon her tanned face

" what-no- yes- i mean- I don't like him. It's just he has changed so much and it seems unrealistic " harry covered up his tinted face by entailed more into his book

" sure harry, we believe you " Ron sarcastically responded.

" Ron- harry, you know it, you're lying to yourself and what if Draco have actually changed so much. I mean he apologized to me for everything he ever did. That has to be something and it was a genuine apology-"

" apologies doesn't change what he's done. And I don't like Malfoy " harry persisted almost agressively.

Hermione sighed looking at Ron, an indication for him to take the lead.

" mate, I hate him just as much as you do but she's right you know. You can ignore your feelings for how long! One day you would have to face them-"

" so what you want me to just go upto him and ask him out on a date? How blinded can you be ? I will prove that he hasn't changed. I will prove it " with that harry stormed out of the common room to the court yard to be under the sun and complete the rest of his work.

The problem was harry was immensely crushing on draco but it was so hard for him to believe that he'd much rather look for his flaws, it was easier as harry would like to put it. But it was so hard for him to actually look for a single flaw in draco after the war because he had changed completely. Long gone were the days when he used slurs like mudblood, in fact he himself was sending letters to the ministry over and over for stop discriminating against werewolves, muggle borns, squibs, and half bloods. It seemed too good to be true but harry knew he was genuinely doing it but his fainting heart didn't wanted to wake up one day and know that draco had not changed at all, so he chose to still finding his flaws.

2 weeks later upon constant teasing by Ron and Hermione about his research to find something suspicious or something flawed about draco, he realised he was standing in front of a lake which was completely dry. There wasn't even a single flaw and his heart could only take so much.

But he didn't wanted to give up, so during one of his charms lessons, harry took his quill and paper and started writing.

" Reasons not to be in love with draco malfoy "

" ugh.. scratch that " harry mumbled to himself unimpressed

" reasons not to be in love with draco malfoy"

" reasons to hate draco malfoy "

" reasons not to like draco malfoy "

Harry frowned to himself watching the paper, then dipping his quill in ink again and continued writing, only he couldn't. Stuck for minutes, harry looked across the room to see Draco smiling Kindly to a broken handed Neville and writing his notes for him. Harry groaned to himself, " bloody perfect git "

And then he wrote,

" draco malfoy - an absolute prat "

Impressed by himself harry closed his eyes and let himself ponder over every flaw he could muster and desperately failing but he needed something. One damn thing.

But found none.

He placed his hand over the paper once again and started

" 1. The prat have the most fucking Adorable smile. And he doesn't deserve it . It's illegal to have such an adorable smile "

Harry almost smiled at what he wrote but considering his circumstances he refused to. He looked up at Draco once again and continued again.

" 2. The idiot have the most beautiful fingers, bet it's stolen. They're the most fucking annoying thing ever and I can't bloody stop staring at it "

And with that Harry's motive unknowingly changed. He started writing about things about draco that annoyed him.

As week went on harry had listed almost 10 things he found annoying about draco.

" they're not flaws harry " Hermione pressed her lips in thin line to keep herself from laughing.

Blushing in embarrassment harry took the paper away " you wouldn't get it "

And as he started leaving he heard Ron laugh.

And he went back to the courtyard and going through the list once again.

" 3. The git have perfect annoying stormy eyes which makes you dream but also take you somewhere only both us could be "

" 4. He's unbelievably kind to everyone, even filch, how could anyone be this damn kind. Stupid "

" 5. He's got brain. Like actual great brain. He's intellectual, he's fucking smart. Like nobody asked you Smarty pants to be this damn smart "

" 6. He Knows exactly what he's doing. Like the other day in the great hall when he left the tea bag for far too long in his cup of tea, he poured a little of his tea into another cup, added ginger and lemon to his own cup and then some water again. Annoying as fuck "

" 7. He sits by the tree in the courtyard just staring at the damn sky and sometimes even draw it in his little doodle pad covered in leather, with a little blue stone right in the centre. Also half filled. God knows what he draws. Would be pretty fantastic though, considering how much time he spend drawing them and painting it. Hilarious to see him being focused. Idiot "

"8. He visits the professor Dumbledore's grave and just sit there crying. Don't know why I wrote it, just needed to. I understand him.

" 9. He talks with madam pomfrey about potions and their Ill effects. Again trying to be smart. He did help Seamus though after he fell from his broom sometime ago, guess he's got brain afterall "

" 10. He's bloody perfect. His damn face, beautiful as fuck, his nose looks like Micheal Angelo himself carved it on his face, his jawline, fuck, his skin is pale though but the way his skin glows when he's sitting in the courtyard doing something and the way he have a perfect blush. Who's blushing can be perfect ? But damn it, his blush is damn perfect as if something had put on natural flower colour upon his face and the way he have a specific smile for each occassion. The nervous smile, the grin, the quizzical smile, everything just super perfect. Stupid beautiful perfect prat "

Harry sighed understanding Hermione's point but he knew what he had written. This was everything he didn't like about him. Every single one of them, well not everything maybe but most of them.

Harry looked up, keeping the paper in one of his notebooks, to see Draco sitting on one of the pillars seat and reading something.

" prat even looks perfect reading " harry mumbled to him rolling his eyes yet couldn't help his curiosity for what he was reading because he wore probably the most perfect smile harry had seen. He hated to admit but maybe, draco was flawless, at least to him but he didn't wanted to admit. He was determined to find at least one flaw so he could prove them wrong, more him than anyone else. He just needed something flawed in him to convince himself that he wasn't desperately falling for him as his friends liked to say. One flaw, that's all he needed.

Harry kept all of his books inside his rag and decided to just walk around the halls before he'd depart to the common room but just as he had been exiting the courtyard, one thing he didn't wanted it to happen, happened.

" hey, po- harry "

Harry closed his eyes, breathing in before turning around to draco with a warming smile.

" what do you want Malfoy?"

" uh- draco- but nevermind. I wanted to actually ask you something, I mean I shouldn't, considering you still hate me but it's purely theoretical " Draco rambled giving harry a rather nervous smile. Fucking perfect again, harry thought.

" I- I don't hate you Malfoy, old habits die hard kinda thing you know " harry assured himself more than draco.

Draco pressed his lips in a thin line pondering on about what harry had just said.

" you wanted to ask ?" Harry impatiently said

" right- I- I've heard you taught defense in 5th year, including the patronus charm, i- since you've taught a few people I was wondering if you could tell me if people like me can- you know can cast one " draco scratched the back of his neck nervously, the same blush returning to his face again which harry always thought was probably the same shade as that of a cherry blossom..

" what do you mean by people like you ?" Just as the sentence had left his mouth, he realised how wrong had it sounded. Of course he knew what draco had meant but why did he had to ask him and embarrass draco ?

Draco inhaled the air surrounding them, closing his eyes as if he was gaining confidence for what he said next " I meant death eaters "

Harry suddenly felt like his tongue was in knots. He knew the answer but he couldn't reply and while draco looked at harry hopefully, his hope started to die out little by little as he watched harry standing quietly. His eyes suddenly turned from normal grey to something that was clouding him within himself, as if he was now concealing himself, like he was upbraiding himself.

" never mind- think I got my answer. Thank you po- harry. It was great help " draco voice sounded more harsh than it had sounded lately at and harry at once knew had broken draco's heart but before he could've undid his fault, he had scrambled away quickly and harry remained there waiting to get his voice back.

And when it finally did, it had started to rain, harry too scrambled away. Strange how the weather has been perfectly fine when he had first sat down in the courtyard and now it pouring down heavily after the misconception with draco.

Draco's smile was slightly dying out a little bit, and harry knew why but everytime harry ran after draco to correct his mistakes, he was tongue tied. Why was it so hard for harry to simply tell the truth ? Why couldn't he ?

In the mean time After harry had told Hermione and Ron about his faulty interaction with draco, they had stopped teasing and encouraged him to fix it as soon as possible.

It wasn't until during one of the defense classes, things took a better turn.

" now, you all have already learnt about how boggart works. It easily takes shape of what you fear the most but here what we have is pieret, it's a twin of a boggart but it is unusually different. A pieret not only senses your fear but induces in you the pain you'd feel when you're faced with your worst fear. Taking an example, if someone fears death, they would feel nothing Because death feels numb. If someone is afraid of lets say lizards, they'd feel irrational. You must be wondering then if you are faced with a boggart, then Also you'd feel the same thing, the answer is no, we predict what we'd feel, not actually feel while upon being faced with a pieret, it would heavily cast on you the feeling to the point where it may get hard to make sense of anything. However the defense against it is just as simple as that of a boggart,infact it is the same. Riddikulus. Now I would want each of you to clear your head and try not to think of your worst fears and then upon your turn with a blink of an eyes, say the spell and then sit down " the professor explained, not even stopping momentarily for asking students anything, as if he wanted to get done with the lesson. Frankly, everyone wanted the same.

The pieret however turned out to be more stronger than the boggart. Few students had to sit down to relax after their turn. When it finally came down to harry, he cleared his head and tried not to think of his worst fear . He saw the shape twisting and turning into someone very familiar, a scene very familiar. Before harry could cast the spell, the feelings had started to run frantically inside of him. He thought he mumbled something but nothing happened, voldemort was still standing, in his victory. Harry had lost the fight, resulting in huge massacre, everyone disappointed and then suddenly it had gone, now there stood a beautiful pink lily.

Harry immediately collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

" drink this " the professor commanded and he obliged, feeling the sensation dying out immediately.

" I need to go " harry hoarsely said and ran out of the room to the washrooms. He reached the same washroom moaning myrtle still resides in but somehow absent currently and he was glad.

Not for long. He soon heard the door open and close and someone walking inside. Harry was about to hex whoever had Walked in until he saw draco had appeared, looked devastating.

" it's only me. We don't want Same things to happen twice" draco announced. Harry immediately lowered his wand, still breathing heavily and becoming very aware of what Draco had said.

" I'd never used that spell again. I wouldn't ever "

" i know " draco gave him a small smile. Harry looked at Draco for a few moments before he sat down against one of the toilet doors, draco cautiously making his steps towards harry and sitting down next to him.

" why are you here ?" Harry finally asked, his knees pressed against his chest, looking up at the ceiling.

" wish I knew " draco responsed aligning himself in the same position as harry and staring up.

Harry hummed, not knowing what he should've answered.

" it's weird " draco suddenly said, a small laugh escaping his lips

" what is ?" Harry asked looking at Draco slightly turning his head to him, watching him staring far ahead.

" how both of our fears are the same "

And he finally turned to harry, with a deep pained expression painted in his dream filled eyes.

Harry quizzically stared at Draco " him gaining victory ?"

" yes and always letting people down. Disappointing them. Having no hope "

Harry was rendered speechless. Until he knew he needed to throw up. He immediately bashed through the door in front of him and puking into the toilet, emptying whatever was inside his body. He suddenly felt a hand on his back caressing him and faint encouragements reaching his ears. When harry was finally done, he leant back pressing his head against the door sighing. Draco's hand has left his back but harry still wanted them there, he didn't know why, but he just wanted that.

" any better ?" He asked. Harry nodded.

" here " draco passed him a bottle of water. Harry rinsed off the smell off his mouth, then drank some of it before flushing the waste away and going back to sitting in the middle alley with draco facing him.

" who do you feel you let down ?" Harry asked frowning at Draco.

Draco looked taken a back by Harry's sudden enquiry but soon comforted himself and began speaking " everyone. I just feel like that even after everything I'm trying to do, after trying so hard to be nice, helping everyone, trying to become a better person, I would still let people down. There will always be Someone who would want to look at my flaws and throw them in my face that no matter what I do, I'd still be draco malfoy the death Eater. I'm always afraid of letting them down, my parents, teachers, the ministry, my friends, classmates, you "

Harry stared at Draco long enough, understanding exactly how he must be feeling but feeling guilty at the same time for doing exactly what draco is fearing but once he had spoken it loud, harry wanting to seek his flaws was thrown out of the window, he just to hug draco right now and tell him that he's doing great.

" I don't hate you draco- I never did. I know you think I do, but I see you. You're trying really hard to become the better person and I can see It happening. If I were you I don't think I'd be able to do that but you, you're brave and confident and courageous to do this everyday. I could never "

" you'd never need to do all that. You already are everything you just said. You don't even need to try " draco gave him a little shrug. Harry's lip immediately turned into a sly smile, realising draco see's him that way, even if it was partially true.

" but you're different. Everyone already praise me, they've always done that. You, you're rising.. that's something much more braver than anything I'd ever done in life"

" are we going to sit here and actually assure each other how we're both doing great " draco joked. Harry immediately broke in a small laughter with draco. Being there with Draco right now was the most perfect thing harry could've ever dreamt of. How could he had possibly thought of wanting to hate draco ? It seemed irrational. Harry was driven by his hatred to find something in draco that didn't even exist and it's not because draco was perfect but because he was working on his flaws. Perfection had never been about being flawless, it has always been in redeeming your flaws. Harry laughed for as Long as he wanted with draco, never wanting this to end. It was a therapy and harry was glad to be a part of it.

When finally the laughter died out harry smiled at draco, picking up his wand and casting the patronus charm.

" my mom's patronus was a doe, mine's a stag. Snape's patronus was a doe too " harry told a pained looking draco until he finally reiterated Harry's words in his head and then it hit him

" he was a death Eater "

" he was " harry replied giving him small smile " a patronus isn't based on discrimination. It doesn't segregate between death eaters and wizard or the bad and the good or the rich and the poor. Patronus is based on a happy memory. I suppose why you'd think death Eaters can't cast a patronus is because they've never known true happiness. If you've ever felt true happiness in your life, you can cast one. There's both light and dark inside of us, it is what we chose to act upon, that's who we are. You're not a bad person draco, you never were and i know one day you'll be as to cast it. I'd liked to help if I can in anyways "

Draco stared at harry In surprise, his expressions changing to one filled with hope and turning into a smile.

" I'd like that " draco responded nodding.

" then we'll practice the spells whenever you'd like" harry smiled before he started putting things in his rag, after hearing the bell to finally get up to leave.

" draco "

" yeah"

" thank you . I- this was different- and just thank you " harry smiled hanging his rag on his shoulder.

Draco smiled nodding at him, getting up himself.

With a deep breath harry finally turned around to leave, smiling to himself, thinking of how he could just burn the list now.

" harry- you dropped something "

Harry turned around to see Draco holding a piece of paper.

Fuck.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes fell upon the words inked on it. Harry immediately hustled in his bag to look for that one specific sheet. No, no, no,no ...

Draco looked up at harry quizzically " reasons to .... "

PART 2 | Requests open

Day 31 - would you come back to me ? | Day 33- tasting their smile

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lostcauses-noregrets · 4 years ago

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Chapter 137: A vow fulfilled and shirtless to the last

He did it. He finally did it. After waiting almost five years, Levi finally killed the Beast Titan. I can hardly believe it *. It’s taken me a while to gather my thoughts on the chapter and I’m still not sure they’re entirely coherent, but let’s give it ago.

I speculated last month that there was a possibility that Armin would talk to Zeke in paths and convince him to sacrifice himself in order to stop Eren, and that Zeke would allow Levi to kill him, thus stopping the rumbling and enabling Levi to fulfill his vow to Erwin in one neat move. (I also thought Levi would die in the process, but more that that below.) This is more or less what happened, but what I didn’t expect was the line of reasoning Armin chose, I thought there would be a lot more angst and harking back to Grisha pleading with Zeke to stop Eren. I actually really like the way things played out though. I know that some of us (me included) have been critical of Armin because there’s been precious little evidence of his supposed genius, but perhaps at the end of the day, Armin’s brilliance was to appreciate the significance of simple things, and to understand the importance of a life just lived. It reminded me of that moment by the ocean where Armin revels in the delights of the present, whereas Eren has already raced ahead to the future, without ever stopping to see or appreciate what is right in front of his nose. And it also put me in mind of Carla telling Shadis that Eren didn’t need to become great, or to be better than everyone else, that he was great simply because he was born into the world. What a tragedy that Eren never appreciated that.

I also think it’s telling that this is what finally got through to Zeke. In the chapter 136 podcast we discussed whether Zeke deserved his reputation for 11/10 intelligence, and all three of us agreed that he did not. I know some listeners disagreed with that, but I stand by the argument that while Zeke may have been intelligent, he wasn’t half as clever as he thought he was, and ultimately that was his downfall. For all Zeke’s logical intelligence, I don’t think he ever really understood people. Zeke always lacked empathy, which is something Armin has in spades. He was so wrapped up in his own grand schemes that he never really stopped to consider other people and that’s why ultimately so many of his plans failed to come to fruition. He underestimated Levi, and he fatally misunderstood Eren.

I’m conflicted here because I can't help feeling that Zeke got a better end than he deserved, but it was also one that was completely in character. He did finally acknowledge that he had killed too many people to deserve redemption, but at the same time he still couldn't let go of his conviction that his euthanasia plan had been justified. Despite his moment of revelation that it’s the simple things that make life precious, he still couldn’t quite let go of his arrogance, his belief that he alone had the power to decide Eldians’ fate.

I did think the way Zeke died was brilliantly done. He always had a bit of a flair for theatrics, which went hand in hand with his high opinion of himself. For Yams to let him have one last final grand-standing moment, to wax lyrical about the meaning of life, before being unceremoniously cut down by Levi, was just perfect. The fact that he was shirtless at the time just made it all the more ridiculous. Zeke Yeager - topless and on brand to the very last. I hope to god I never have to see those nipples again.

And what of Levi? I honestly never expected that Levi would be able to kill Zeke and live. It’s the one scenario I was not mentally prepared for. I always thought that Levi would either die attempting to fulfil his vow, or fail and have to live with the guilt. I know that a lot can happen in the two chapters that are remaining and I suspect we will see more deaths before the end, but I’m starting to think that Levi might survive, and I’m actually…okay with that. I reblogged a ficlet called Scars, that I wrote in response to an ask, where Levi survived the war and lived on with his scars and his memories, but I never thought there was a possibility that would happen. Perhaps Levi will get his Morning in the Museum after all, as @momtaku dreamed of in her gorgeous fic.

I know there’s been a lot of speculation about Levi’s expression immediately after he kills Zeke, and what it means. Some people have interpreted it as sorrow, emptiness, disappointment. Personally I think it’s a whole mess of overwhelming emotions; sorrow certainly, but also pain, relief and disbelief too. It’s everything all at once and it’s too much to process. I think that Levi moved so fast that he didn’t have time for conscious thought. He saw his opportunity and he took it. This time he didn’t hesitate. Processing those emotions will (hopefully) come later. I also don’t think that the fact that Zeke effectively offered himself up as a sacrifice cheapens the fulfilment of Levi’s vow in any way. We already know that Levi could beat Zeke in a straight fight, he did that several times. What matters is that by killing him, Levi was able to fulfil his vow, and perhaps more importantly, stop the rumbling, thus honouring his promise to Erwin and proving that his fallen comrades didn’t die for humanity in vain.

So yeah, thems my thoughts. All in all, I enjoyed this chapter and I’m cautiously optimistic for an ending that reminds us that there is beauty in the world as well as cruelty.

* There is an annoying little voice at the back of my mind whispering “maybe Zeke isn’t actually dead…” and, with Isayama, there is always that possibility. However with only two chapters left, I don’t think there’s time for another convoluted plot twist. Also the lovingly detailed way that Isayama drew Zeke in this chapter makes me think that this is indeed his swansong.

#lostcauses meta #snk 137 #levi ackerman #zeke yeager #armin arlert #carla yeager #erwin smith #the end #snk #fic rec

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obeymeluv · 4 years ago

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Signs they Love You (Pt. 2)

This semester is almost over and while the teacher is a bit disorganized, I have a semblance of breathing room. I thought I’d pop this out real quick and maybe something smaller. Baby-related thing still pending. I want to do it, just not quite enough time yet.

Part 2 has Asmo, Beel, and Belphie.

Belphie’s is not long AT ALL because...well, it’s Belphie. And it’s me. I’m so-so with Belphie.

Asmodeus

For once, his charm and sin is a double-edged sword

Yes, he’s very experienced and has had many lovers--many splendid little things over hundreds of years--but how to make it unique? How to tell you?

Asmo is very calculated in how he flirts, from what he wears and what he plans to say. He personally believes every relationship should be special. No repeated dates unless both people have a preference for it

So when he decides he likes you, the first thing he does is pull out this BIG ASS BOOK he’s kept for centuries and leafs through it to see what he’s done before

No, it doesn’t matter that 99% of these dates were AGES before you were born. He’s checking the list because YOU DESERVE A SPECIAL DATE!

He’s secretly hoping you’ll get some of the many hints he’ll be dropping, but consulting the book is also a good idea for an official first date

After two weeks of shopping with you, taking spa days, trying to weasel his way into more cuddles, Asmo decides it’s time to pull out The Book idea because you’re not getting it

You’re just distracted by his beauty to see the fact that he’s trying to flirt. It’s fine.

This date idea requires the big guns (really only Diavolo, but he needs Lucifer to get to Diavolo). He’s setting his plan into motion, trying to sweet-talk Lucifer into taking him by Diavolo’s castle but Mammon overhears

The second-eldest is very unimpressed, DARES to mock him while sipping noisily on a soda, and just asks him why he doesn’t tell you straight up.

“Because it’s a stupid, tasteless idea.” Asmodeus scoffs and shoos him away like an annoying little thing as he amps up the charm and resumes his conversation with Lucifer.

“Bet it’ll work.” is all he hears Mammon murmur.

“Look,” Mammon shrugs. flicks his eyes to Asmo and then just nods his head towards you as you come around the corner into the dining room. “You just man up and say, ‘Do you--SMFF!”)

Asmo has never strangled anyone to death but today it might happen

Or he’s going to break this new six inch heel off in Mammon’s mouth (or his ass)

With Mammon sufficiently strangled (or choking on his soda, he’s not sure which) Asmo, plays it cool (barely) as you pass through to do something else (thank god!)

Highly amused, Lucifer agrees to help him

By the end of the week Asmodeus has a cute greenhouse picnic planned. Only Satan and Lucifer know

He’s pretty scarce around the House of Lamentation, even turning Solomon down once or twice, but it’s all worth it for the set up. He even bought special flowers

Barbatos escorts you through the winding greenhouse that almost seems lush and trim enough to be part of the Royal Gardens. He stops just before a manicured arch of flowers, the walkway studded with garden lights, stepping stones, and beautiful roses

He goads you forward, sending you on your way. The little roses perk up and explode into gorgeous blooms

And they’re talking?! One of the notecards say they’re a Devildom brand of rose--a mimicrose. The flower acts like a recorded, hiding a secret message, and blooms when it’s delivered to the right person

Your face lights up a gorgeous flattered color as you make your way down the trail compliments popping up every step

Asmo’s waiting at the end of the arches, looking like the cat that ate the canary with his catered spread. Sitting pretty on the classic checkered blanket.

You only kind of hear the last rose confess--Asmo’s voice going quiet and shy as he swears he really, really loves you

The demon in front of you seems very far from that shy voice but you catch the tinge of pink on his cheeks. He saunters up to you and says something witty about how only he could be perfect for you, and that only perfect him could set all this up!

You two have a cute, quiet date with little cakes and finger foods

Diavolo sends Lucifer a text with a blurry photo saying he ‘photobombed’ you two, but doesn’t realize he has to be in the photo for it to count. Lucifer still thinks it’s a cute picture

Beelzebub:

It takes Beel a while to come around to the fact that he might like you

Not because he doesn’t like you, but because he’s equally comfy being friends. Friends are fine, too.

Even as a friend he still gets that giddy rush when he holds you, that flood of warmth when he impresses you, so for a while he thinks he has the best of both worlds

When that balance starts to feel threatened, the realization creeps in

Then he realizes there’s no going back and if he doesn’t say anything, you get caught up with other people and he’ll miss you. You just won’t be around as much anymore!

When someone on the Fangol team starts getting a little too curious and close, the red flags go flying in Beel’s mind. He needs to tell you and tell you now!

Probably doesn’t have an extensive dating history and is, in general, the best sweet boi, so he’ll ask around for ideas. The second someone suggests a cupcake message or cake message, he’s done. No more ideas! That’s the best one!

To put his feelings in it, Beel decides to make the cupcakes himself. He buys enough to make 3 or 4 dozen cupcakes because he anticipates stress eating at least two batches

And the ugly ones. Can’t give you ugly ones!

He takes full advantage of Asmo or whoever getting you out of the house, throwing on a little apron and getting to work. Belphie supervises, occasionally scolding him

Beel eats a few cupcakes more than he’s supposed to and decides to draw frosting people so the space doesn’t feel empty

His frosting spelling isn’t that great. One of the words look weird. More than one, actually

Trying to write over it just makes extra frosting, unreadable globs

Beel eats that one, then realizes he messed up some of the topping, so he smooths it out and tries again

Belphie plays wingman, fully aware of his brother panicking over presentation and trying to spell (and not squeeze the life out of the frosting bag), and writes little love messages on the wrappers

It’s stuff he’s heard Beel say in his sleep for at least a week.

Beel resigns himself to a mash of cupcakes that are kind of readable and way less than what he planned to have. He doesn’t know Belphie’s done a gradual bait and switch of the cupcake liners since he’s eaten just as many as he’s made

You see a smiley face and the frosting people and it’s enough to melt your heart

Beel is speckled in flour and frosting (he’s got crumbs on the corner of his mouth), and he looks adorably awkward in the apron. He’s so nervous he’s in his demon form, wings buzzing frantically behind him.

It’s like he wants to take off and make nervous circles around you.

He stutters out an awkward ‘I like you’ and mumbles other things. Belphie, who’s curled up under the prep table, grumbles out ‘READ THE LINERS!’ before snuggling down again

You and Beel go on a cute little hunt to pick and read the wrappers, splitting cupcakes with each other.

At the end of it you’re very full and very happy. And Beel’s extra delighted because you smell (and taste) like cupcakes.

Belphegor

Does he like you like you, or just like the fact that you don’t bother him?

In his book, you’re not terrible. Not annoying. You don’t wake him up on purpose, and you seem to get along with Beel.

Not bad, right?

Maybe this means he just doesn’t have high standards?

He knows he wouldn’t mind napping with you. Maybe that means he likes you?

One night, when he’s hit that ‘slept all day’ high and he’s awake and thinking it over. He asks Beel about it because who else would know him better than his twin?

Then he learns. OH BOY DOES HE LEARN!

Apparently he talks about you in his sleep? And he blushes? CUDDLES THE PILLOW?

Beel is hardly worried about the threats, the finger pointing in his face, and the way he’s bobbing his head like a bull about to charge. It’s just standard little brother things! Very cute!

Belphegor feels bad and a little unworthy to date you. His sin is very taxing and he spends a lot of the time napping. Is it really a good idea?

It’s a heavy issue to think about, and he dreams.

Belphegor has always believed that dreams are a way for you to work out the issues you have when you’re awake, so he’s not surprised to dream about you

The dreams are so vivid, so heart-warming, and he’s so happy. It’s all about you and him--snippets of dates that he can’t completely see. He’s not sure where you’re at or what led up to the moments, but they’re all a happy, quiet cuddle that gives him more energy than he’s felt in a while

He knows, then, that he should at least ask you. When he gets his next burst of rested energy, he’s going to confess

Belphegor’s nearly scared straight out of bed when he sees you tentatively approaching it. He musters up enough concentration to hold a conversation and is VERY embarrassed to find he basically called you here

Almost like a subliminal message, or sharing a dream, you just simply had to come and tell him about the adorably awkward dream. It was very cuddly and kind of put you in a cuddling mood

Belphegor’s got a major case of sleep brain but it sounds like YOU actually just confessed

Plays the big card--go big or go home!--”If you like me, get in the bed.”

Realizes about 3 seconds later how that sounds. Is very embarrassed and wants to hide under his blankets and die.

He’s already wormed under them and is firmly cocooned (so he doesn’t have to look you in the face or see if you stay) “You know...if you like me. Want to cuddle and stuff...like a couple...”

He feels your weight spread out along his bed and scoops you up like a blanket monster. It’s like being swallowed by a fitted sheet, blanket coming at you from all sides, and you both laugh about it.

Belphegor is a big fan of the private cuddle pile

#Obey me!#Obey me! x reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmodeus #Belphegor x Reader #Belphie x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader

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all-about-remadora · 4 years ago

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200 followers!

So here’s a list of One shots for celebrate✨

Everyone Deserves A Someone by LoquaciousLupin

With nothing better to do during the holidays at Grimmauld Place, Hermione and Ginny wonder whether their former Professor has a special someone - with no other ideas, they do the only thing they can and ask him. With a little help from Tonks, Remus answers their questions as honestly... as he can. Remus and Tonks fluff.

A Beautiful Tune by SweetDeamon

I'm...not coming." he said, reaching to shove his hands deep into his pockets. "On the mission. With you." Tonks stared at him in confusion. "Why not?" she asked, grip upon the cloak in her hand going limp. Remus struggled to come up with a convincing lie. "Because I...I..." Because I'm dying. Because you've struck me dead in the heart.

The Unspeakable Girl by SweetDeamon

"She makes me feel so on top of this world that I wish I'd never been born into it in the first place! So I can't stand to talk about her, Dad! I simply can't!" In which Remus Lupin visits his father and confesses something quite extraordinary. Based on information from POTTERMORE. Consider yourselves warned. RLNT.

The Future's Not Ours To See by Gilpin

Remus Lupin has a lot on his mind; his current undertaking for the Order of the Phoenix, and how to obtain questionable potions from an unhelpful Apothecary owner. Can he bring both to a satisfactory conclusion?

Rhapsody in Blue by copperbadg

Remus has decided it's time to cure Tonks of her awkwardness, the only way he knows how.

Kissing It Better by Lady Bracknell

On her first date with Remus, Tonks discovers that spilt beer on wooden floors is the enemy of the less than surefooted everywhere. Will she die of embarrassment, or will Remus find a way to make it all better?

Kiss and tell by Lady Bracknell

For all his supposed genius, Sirius Black had always had rather a blind spot for the patently obvious.

What To Make Of Him by Lady Bracknell

Neither Ted nor Andromeda know quite what to make of their daughter's boyfriend. Can he win them round over Sunday lunch?

On First Impressions by cafei-au-lei

"'You know,' Sirius said, 'it's kind of funny. For someone who thinks Remus is so annoying, you sure can't seem to stop talking about him.'" A series of moments in Remus and Tonks' developing relationship as they get to know each other and learn that maybe first impressions aren't necessarily everything. OOTP. Fluffy oneshot.

The Order's Most Eligible Bachelors by cafei-au-lei

The Order's Most Eligible Bachelors, or: the ladies indulge in some firewhiskey and gossip. Sirius and Remus stumble upon a game they're not sure they want to be privy to (okay, maybe Sirius does.) The results lead to some necessary conversation and introspection for a few of the parties involved. Oneshot.

The Talk, Or: The (Lighthearted) Trauma of Teddy R Lupin by cafei-au-lei

Teddy knew when Dad brought out the firewhiskey that something was suspicious. Then again, maybe he wasn't giving Dad enough credit for being the cool parent. AU. Remus and Tonks survive to raise their son and give him The Dreaded Talk. Oneshot.

Movement by MrsTater

Things appear to have changed. One shot, RLNT

Retrograde by MrsTater

Sequel to Movement: Tonks strongly suspected, though she hadn't much experience, that it wasn't normal for adults who fancied other adults to do what she was doing now.

Kernels by MrsTater

A Transfigured Hearts outtake: a cosy night in with Remus takes an unexpected turn when popcorn finds its way into odd places and leads Tonks to make an important discovery.

Party till the wolf comes by MrsTater

Fatherhood doesn't send Remus on a pub crawl, but announcing the birth of his son to his closest friends turns out to be the next best thing.

Overheard by MrsTater

Sirius tries to play matchmaker for an ambivalent Remus and Tonks, but when everyone keeps overhearing everyone else's conversations, things get a little complicated as shapeshifters prove to be anything but predictable... Updated Sept 3, 2007

The Honeymooners by MrsTater

Two years after their wedding, Remus and Tonks finally make it on their honeymoon. But now they've got something they didn't when they first married, will they be able to stop thinking about it long enough to enjoy themselves? AU

A Conversation That’s Not About Veela by starfishstar

Harry and Professor Lupin talk about women, and other things. During Christmas of HBP. (A gen story, but with very strong hints of Remus/Tonks and Harry/Ginny.)

Sleeping by starfishstar

Tonks sleeps; Remus muses

Precisely What I Mean by starfishstar

Remus with Teddy was easily the sweetest thing Tonks had ever seen. It seemed Remus couldn't ever hold Teddy without gazing down at his son with a huge, helpless, delighted grin. "Don't your cheeks ever get tired?" Tonks couldn't help teasing him once, and he'd glanced up, bewildered by the question – he didn't even realise he was doing it.

A Slow and Stopping Curve by aegle

Concerning Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Set during Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince.

St. Margaret's by aegle

Remus, Tonks, a Muggle automobile, and a slightly disappointing beach adventure

On Bethlehem Down by aegle

Remus Lupin finds himself at Nymphadora Tonks' flat on Christmas Eve, 1996

The poem which i do not write by aegle

So, it has come to London with them, whatever it is.

The Watch by Sirussly

He'd grown so used to her endless chatter and relentless questions, a burning ball of energy with a laugh like her mother's. Some nights Tonks would listen to him instead, to stories of war and the price one pays for being a soldier in the middle of it. Occasionally neither of them would speak, but once her hand found his and stayed there until the sunrise coloured the sky.

Flame by Eat a Taco

It's strange what the soft light of a candle can do to someone.RLNT, sometime during HBP

Cover Me by Maggiemaye

Remus and Tonks embark on a mission that tests their well-established partnership to its limits. Even while surrounded by Death Eaters hidden in plain sight, they find that their greatest threats may come from within.

Expecto Patronum by Shimotsuki

Remus and Tonks have dinner at the Potters' after seeing Teddy off on the Hogwarts Express. James and Al are full of questions, including one that not even Harry knows the answer to.

Meet the Reindeer by SweetDeamon

Nothing untoward had happened since Teddy had arrived home from Hogwarts for the holidays this year. So far there had been no manically jingling elves, no traumatised Santa Claus, no mass snowball fights, no exploding cans of fake snow and as of yet nothing had come hurtling down the chimney or splattered anything or anybody with ammunition of the culinary kind. So far. RLNT AU.

Meet the Teacher by SweetDeamon

In which Remus and Dora receive word from Hogwarts that their son's homework has been completed in a far from satisfactory manner. The subject? Defence Against the Dark Arts. The topic? Werewolves. They've been expecting trouble since the beginning of term...but who feels less prepared? Teddy's parents or Teddy's teacher? Neville has a hunch... AU. RLNT. Rated for mild language.

A Study In Pink by SweetDeamon

"He isn't entirely sure how it is that a certain pink haired witch came to be lying snugly in the bed beside him yet again, or indeed why such a thing had ever occurred the first time around..." RLNT.

A Piece of Cake by SweetDeamon

"How long does it take to make a bloody sponge cake!" "You can't rush art, Sirius." Tonks attempts to bake Remus a birthday cake. "Attempts to" being the key phrase here... RLNT. Happy Birthday Gelly Bean!

The Christmas Waltz by Lady Bracknell

As Christmas approaches, Remus and Tonks dance around the idea of togetherness, wondering if either of them is leading, or know where they're going at all.

Mistletoe and Wine by Lady Bracknell

Remus falls foul of the mistletoe. Twice. RL/LP, RL/NT, LP/JP, rated for language.

Afraid of the Dark by Lady Bracknell

Remus had always been ill at ease in the forest, but when a mission for Dumbledore sends him into the heart of the place with Tonks by his side, he finds his apprehension harder than usual to shake off.

The Luck of the Draw by Lady Bracknell

She sits on the carpet, shuffles the cards, then deals them out. She came here with the hope of forcing the issue, because she just knows they shouldn't be about can't and won't.

Chione by: cafei-au-lei

Remus has confirmation that Tonks may return his feelings - now all that's left is to decide what to do with this rather exciting and terrifying information. And although it's been a strange year, this year's Christmas could shape up to be one of the best Remus has ever had. Takes place after "The Order's Most Eligible Bachelors." RLNT OotP holiday fluff.

The First Night by: cafei-au-lei

Most major events in Remus' life have done nothing but reinforce the crushing inevitability of his condition and the life that it has condemned him to. But maybe there is hope to be had, after all.

amare by: cafei-au-lei

At first, the idea that Tonks and Professor Lupin could be together was equal parts baffling and absurd. But then, maybe it did make a tiny bit of sense, Ginny thought, as she watched the way Professor Lupin looked at Tonks over the breakfast table. But she still couldn't help but think that this love and relationships thing was far too complicated. RLNT.

War Baby by MrsTater

It's time for Teddy's first outing, and for Tonks to make peace with a noble great idiot. Set during Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Perchance To Dream by: MrsTater

A dream leads to an argument and an unexpected quest to seek out the meaning. Will Remus and Tonks kiss and make up? More importantly, who will come out on top? RLNT, Deathly Hallows, Mature.

Like a Cat in the Sun by starfishstar

Remus is in a house full of women.

#nymphadora tonks #remadora #remus lupin #remus x tonks #harry potter #allaboutremadora

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bigmeatymudcrabchitins · 4 years ago

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A not-so-brief overview of my Skyrim Dova OCs bc i need to scream to the digital void about my ideas

Freyora Lind, more commonly known by her strange alias “Bjorne Icepick”

A Nord-eventually-turned-werewolf who orphaned during the Great War and taken in by a Dunmeri mercenary whose residence was in Windhelm’s Gray Quarter. Grew up in a cramped boarding house setting among desperate mercenaries of varying backgrounds. Many of them would all come and go, but there was always some sort of a familial bond between them all.

From a young age she got in a lot of fights against people who insulted her for living in the Gray Quarter among the dark elves. Eventually she took a fight too far and was jailed for murder around 14, but was broken out shortly after by a band of masked vampires. Turns out some of her mercenary comrades unwittingly caught vampirism during a contract to clear out a vampire den and had to skip town, but not before ensuring one of their own wasn’t left to rot.

Lived in Cyrodil for about 15 years, but returned to Skyrim pursuing rumors surrounding a cure to vampirism, as her adoptive father would be nearing the end of his elven lifespan and had wished to die a normal death.

Seeing as she was literally a fugitive, and her long-belated parents were somewhat renowned for their battlefield prowess, she took on a false identity. AND an act to match it.

She’ll eat raw meat, chase prey with swords instead of using a bow like a normal person, harp about irrational conspiracy theories, and more. Everyone’s foul reactions to her outlandish act are plainly hilarious to her and only encourage her to act even stranger.

The alias “Bjorne Icepick” was simply the most ridiculous name she could think of.

Not the most morally outstanding. Besides drunken brawling, she’ll steal from anyone who angers her, even if it’s things she literally won’t ever need such as all the goblets in a household. It’s the pettiness that counts. “Try drinking your damn high-end wine now, jackass.”

Calls Dwarven Automatons “Gundams.” Including she herself, no one knows what that means.

Joins the Companions out of homesickness and a desire to fill in a gap that leaving home left.

Hasn’t bothered curing herself of lycanthropy because her whole schtick is being incredibly resourceful, and that includes using any means of power necessary. Still doesn’t fancy Hircine’s Hunting Grounds as her desired afterlife, though.

As her journey goes on, however, her lightheartedly eccentric face starts to fall off as a number of events push her to begin to question the legitimacy of her actions up until that point.

Some of which include the eventual death of her adoptive father (and how she was indirectly responsible for it even if it was what he wanted), Delphine’s ultimatum, the civil war as a collective, learning the tragic history behind the Falmer and the original Companions’ role in it, and killing of Vyrthur (no matter how much he genuinely deserved it).

She grows disgusted by herself down to the core. She takes to skooma to cope, and starts to be plagued by serious skooma-induced side effects. She ends up shutting herself away from all her responsibilities and distancing herself from her friends.

Does she get better? Maybe. I haven’t thought up anything past this point lol

Moureneris Alta

A very, VERY ancient vampiric snow elf, (though it’s notable she was born a considerable amount of time after the razing of Sarthaal)

Survived many atrocities. Stayed in isolation with a band of vampires for countless years out of sheer disgust for the nature of the sapient races. (I’ll explain her full story some other time. It’s pretty complicated)

She was abducted from her isolated lifestyle by a certain person i’ll talk about later. She managed to free herself south of Skyrim, and uh, walks right into that Imperial ambush. The rest is history.

Super ignorant to modern society as a result of centuries of isolation. Exploited for comedic relief. (“What in the name of Oblivion is a Cyrodilic Empire? Are you messing with me? And please, how does levitation magic simply get outlawed by this hypothetical Empire? What are you to do when you fall down a crevice? Just... let yourself perish? How degrading.)

She reintegrated herself into society with vengeance in mind under the belief that all humans are savage bloodlusting murderers who had to answer for their treachery. (And she was royally angry there was no Dwemer left to spite, but partially satisfied at the same time). But she grows conflicted after being shown genuine kindness, even as early as being freed from her binds in Helgen.

Subsequently has a very muddled redemption arc. Queue Dragonborn hero stuff

She has impaired vision, but she cultivated detect life magic to aid her in daily life and combat (think Hyakkimaru from Dororo ‘19 and his soul detection or Toph Beifong from ATLA and her seismic sense). At her peak, she can detect life from about a kilometer away.

She can just barely read, but only if she holds the text incredibly close to her face, not to mention her Cyrodilic lessons were left unfinished after her abduction, making reading a very taxing process. Weary travelers are often spooked at the sight of a floating, ghastly looking elven woman with her nose pressed up against crossroad signs, and it has become somewhat of an urban legend.

Isn’t as nearly as skilled with detecting the dead and tenses up in burial crypts or around other vampires for that reason. Unfortunately, being the Dragonborn and all, she finds herself in a lot of crypts...

When questioned about her background due to her unique appearance: “Oh, yeah. My mother was one of those mer from the east. You know the ones. Dark elves, I think? And my father was one of those er, tall elv- no, sorry, HIGH elves. Yeah. They both died in a big fire or something though. It was horrible. I can’t get the noxious smell or the deafening screams out of my head. Good talk, but never ask me about that again.”

Queue sheltered old immortal antics: “Wow, you’re THAT old? Enlighten me on how it felt witnessing the fall of the Dwemer. Or perhaps the rise of Tiber Septim’s Empire. The Gates of Ob-“ “Oblivion if I know. I lived in someone’s basement for thousands of years. And I still don’t know what everyone means by Empire. You all are messing with me, aren’t you? That really annoys me.”

She ultimately returns to faith in Auri-El and makes it her life’s purpose to help the Betrayed find peace, as well as to seek out any remaining snow elf groups. Probably good friends with Gelebor or something.

Had a crush on Serana. We all know how THAT went. Damned temples.

Was originally gonna spiral into a much darker corruption arc (another ATLA comparison being Jet or Hama) but I just felt bad for her. Moureneris can have a little found peace. As a treat.

That’s her preliminary design made. I’ll need a mod to properly play her, because that right there was made by choosing Dunmer as her race. But I can’t do that. I’m on console, and while I got the Steam port a month ago, my PC’s stone age specs can’t handle Skyrim yet and I’ll need to wait until I can afford a better graphics card (thanks economic inflation)

Alexandre Armasi, jokingly nicknamed Alexandre the Curious

A complete and unapologetic export of my character from a dead and unfinished DND campaign. Except there are no Aasimar in Skyrim, so he’s half Altmer half Bosmer. And his initial last name was Armas but I thought Armasi suited his Skyrim counterpart more, as subtle a change it is.

He’s mainly Bosmer in appearance and constitution, save for his hair and eyes, which are more similar to that of his Altmeri father’s.

I can’t really export his original backstory though because the campaign wouldn’t translate well into TES lore at all.

He’s a writer who came wandering into Skyrim in search of inspiration. While he mainly writes dramatic fables, he wanted to divert his focus to crafting his own bestiary and herbal compendium surrounding Skyrim’s fauna and flora. The ones at home are simply too vague to him!

He’s very altruistic, wishing to spread cheer wherever he goes, through the art of song (even though he was a cleric in DND and not a bard. My bad.) However, many of his verses are just blatant self promotions of his published fables.

But he’s too naive for his own good. Dangerously so. In fact, he says what’s on his mind with little forethought, with little grasp on the consequences of his actions, which lands him in lots of trouble. “I don’t favor him myself, but you guys kill people over Talos worship? That’s not very cool. A bit scary, if you ask me.” or “A Stormcloak rebel? Didn’t your leader kill a bunch of Reachmen rebels years back, or so I’ve heard. By the divines that’s not a man I’d make a symbol of nonconformity.”

He’s also insatiably curious. The type to ACTUALLY shove alchemic ingredients in his mouth with no knowledge of their properties, experiment with dangerous rune spells, throw rocks at pressure plates, and more. Needless to say he’s very accident prone.

Doesn’t know common curse words. People exploit this for laughs. Think that episode of Spongebob.

Everyone is a little baffled that HE of all people is the prophesied Dragonborn of legend. This agonizingly imbecilic writer who has absentmindedly wandered into burial crypts, troll dens, bandit forts, and more, too busy juggling his manuscripts to pay attention to his surroundings.

His past doesn’t exactly reflect his outlook on life. His mother and father fought in the Great War aligned with the Imperials despite their elven background. Both managed to live to see the war’s conclusion, but his father vanished without a trace shortly after, and it seems his mother knows something she won’t tell him.

With plenty of exposure to bad influences, his innocence is slowly lost throughout the course of his journey, and his altruism begins to grow twisted. But nevertheless, he maintains his jovial, social persona, except this time with much darker undertones. Kinda like a creepy dentist or something.

Whoops. He winds up becoming a feared Dark Brotherhood assassin. (Haha get it “Innocence Lost”???) He somehow deluded himself into thinking that the life of an assassin was the right thing to do. But he’s a funky little guy so he gets a pass for his heinous crimes against society

#skyrim #skyrim oc #dragonborn #dovahkiin

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sirrwritesalots · 4 years ago

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Resurrection ~ Sherlock Holmes (angsty)

Pairing: (BBC) Sherlock x Y/N Warnings: Some cursing, angsty, anger Word Count: 2074 Summary: You have known Sherlock and John for years, but when he comes back from the dead, will you accept him so easily? A/N: This is out of my element, I usually write romance and stuff, but I’m trying out the depressing/Sherlock type of mystery and crime out a bit, though there isn’t much of that crime stuff happening lol hope you enjoy!

The reconnection between John and Sherlock was eventful, to say the least, but in comparison to the reunion between Sherlock and Y/N still did not go as he had originally planned or hoped for.

In the years he had been away - or as everyone thought: supposedly ‘dead’ - you had taken up residence at a cottage in Dorset your family had owned for a long time. You took the death of your close friend, and someone whom you loved very dearly, in the romantic sense as well as the platonic sense, rather difficult, so as a means of coping you spent some time away for yourself from the busy capital of the UK. You needed to reconnect with yourself and handle your grief, come to terms with what had happened in order to move on, and in doing so you found the lowland hills of South Wessex comforting and appealing as you creating your new life there. You’d become accustomed to your routine, to the - what some would call - mundaneness of it all, though your blood seemed to itch for some action every now and again, which you appeased by composing or writing, possibly taking up a new hobby, anything of the sort.

So one day when there was a knock on your door, you simply expected it to be your neighbor down the road asking to borrow a cup of sugar or asking for a small favor. It came as somewhat of a surprise when you opened the front door and came face-to-face with none other than your old friend John Watson and his girlfriend Mary, who you met only a handful of times but really liked. She was good for him, you thought, after everything he had been though.

You welcomed them with a smile, “John! I didn’t know you were coming around! Mary, it’s lovely to see you again!” You were about to kiss both of her cheeks after letting the two inside when a third person appeared where they were standing a second ago.

“I didn’t know your family owned a cottage outside of London,” said the familiar deep baratome voice.

You could have sworn your heart stopped in that moment. Body completely froze with a hand closed around the door handle like a vice, a white-knuckle grip so tight the edges of the lock were almost piercing your skin. Although you always hoped you would be wrong in the back of your mind, you thought you’d never see him again. A wave of emotions crashed over you in a matter of seconds: shock, relief, joy. But the last of them all, white hot rage, washed through you like it never had before. Without saying a single word, you slammed the door in his face and turned to make your way into the kitchen.

You vaguely heard John and Mary’s mumbled comments. “Well, it could have been worse,” you imagined John shrugging to his girlfriend as he weighed some of the possible outcomes in his head. “She could have punched him in the face like I did.”

“John,” Mary said wearily, “Y/n’s not happy, and I wouldn’t expect her to be. What, with us just showing up out of the blue with him.”

“Give her some time... she’ll come around,” John attempted to give you the benefit of the doubt.

In the kitchen, your hands were splayed across the countertop to steady yourself as you felt like you were quite literally spinning from the thoughts running around in your head and your eyes slid out of focus. How was this even possible? Did John know this whole time? No, he couldn’t have. He was genuinely grief stricken, just like you had been. Mycroft must have known, that cheeky bastard knew practically everything. Why couldn’t he tell you, though? Of all people, why didn’t he let you and John in on his not-so-little secret for all these years? Your mind was running a thousand miles a minute attempting to answer all these rising questions on your own, wondering how you could have missed this simple fact: Sherlock was not dead.

After no reaction or response for me for a long time - you were unaware of how much time had passed - John entered the kitchen, calling your name. “How long have you known?” was the only thing you said, eyes now fixated on one particular spot on the counter so as to control your emotions in the moment.

“Only a few days. He wanted to tell you in person, not over the phone.”

You scoffed, shaking your head and relaxing your tense muscles for the first time since you slammed the front door shut. “That’s a shock.” Usually Sherlock preferred technological means of communication to human interaction, typically choosing to send a quick text over speaking on the phone or bothering to get off his ass and into a cab.

“Nothing about this is normal,” stated John. He was right; it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that a friend comes back to life, or rather fakes his own death. John tried to reason with you, “If you could just hear him out.”

“Is that what you did? Immediately wait and listen to what he had to say.”

“Well, um, no. It took a bit. I may have hit him once or twice. We relocated a few times.” You gave John a look that screamed the words ‘exactly’ without having to vocalize your point. “What I was trying to say is, that its Sherlock, Y/N. And we’ve been a mess since he left, no matter what we’ve done to be happy in that time.” Your mind immediately went to Mary and the cottage you were standing in; yours and John’s means of coping.

“Yeah, John, that’s my point; he left! Without a word. He went along with Moriarty and let us go on believing he offed himself. How can you forgive him so easily?” Your blood was beginning to boil again.

“So, what are you planning on doing? Leave him outside in the rain until he learns his lesson?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, your chin lifting a fraction in affirmation. “Yes.” At the very least, you believed Sherlock deserved that, after all he put the two of your through, to sit soggy and cold for the next hour.

John relented and dropped his arms at his sides, realizing it was useless to argue with you as your stubbornness had clearly not disappeared in your time apart, and made his way back to Mary in the sitting room. You made the three of you some cups of tea, bringing the tray with you and setting it onto the table. Noticing the fire was lit, which must have been Mary’s doing while you were having your little tiff with John in the kitchen earlier, you smiled softly at her. She and John took residence on the couch while you sat in the chair closest to the fire, leaving a single chair adjacent to you unoccupied as the room warmed up.

You could hear Sherlock’s shoes tapping the porch as he paced back and forth in a meek effort to stay warm in the rain. A part of you - the one that reached out to Sherlock, that was glad to have him back despite everything - wanted to let him in, hand him a cup of tea, wrap a blanket around his shoulders, and talk as though no time had passed. But the other part that inhabited a majority of your consciousness was annoyed at his patience. He wasn’t complaining about the weather or temperature on the other side of the door. In fact, he was more quiet than you remember him ever being, aside from then he was sleeping or preoccupied in his Mind Palace. After his eventful encounter with John, he must have come to the understanding that he wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms and it would take a bit of an adjustment for everybody to acclimate him into their lives again.

After sitting in silence for thirty or so minutes, John abruptly stood to his feet, causing Mary to quickly look at him on alert. Luckily her cup was empty, or else he would be responsible for the stain on your rug. “For Christ’s sake! This is enough, Y/N! You’re acting like a damn child,” John said as he walked to the front door. “I’ve let you have your moment, now I am going to let Sherlock in and you are going to have it out. Right here, right now. Not later when its dark and he’s caught hypothermia.”

Against your protests, John opened the door and nodded at his friend to come inside your home. Sherlock stepped through the threshold after shaking his hair outside, lifting his head to meet my gaze as John locked the door behind him.

It felt like a hole had been rammed through your chest again, the power of it almost knocking you back into the chair you were seated in. You took a deep, unsteady breath and clenched your fists to hide your shaking hands. Part of it was anger, but most of it was fear, anxiety. You tried to control your breathing, deep inhale followed by a deep exhale, like you had practiced when you began having panic attacks after his death.

“Please, let me explain,” Sherlock pleaded with a soft look in his eyes you’d never seen before as he gingerly took a step forward.

“I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t even want to speak to you.” It took everything in you not to burst into tears, out of anger or frustration or sadness you didn’t know which, as you took a step back to maintain the distance between the two of you.

“Y/n, l-”

“No! Fuck! You were gone. You were dead, Sherlock! And you didn’t so much as tell me or John!” Your voice began to crack as it raised in volume. “Dead! Do you even understand that? We grieved your loss. We have borne that pain for two years now, and you think that I’m suddenly going to forgive that and let you back into my life just because you’re standing here in front of me now? That’s extremely arrogant and selfish, even for you.”

Sherlock chose his words wisely as he spoke, “Yes, I do understand.”

“No, see, I don’t think you do. Because you are incapable of feeling human emotions; you’ve said so yourself, right? They are pesky little beggars that get in the way of more important things in life, yeah?” You raised your eyebrows in expectation, waiting for him to confirm your statement to be true, since he had expressed his distaste for allowing emotions to rule him and his life many times before, and yet he remained silent. “You couldn’t possibly understand, because you thrive on suspense and mystery. On having the upper hand of knowing what others don’t, having the power to withhold information and telling others what you want them to know and when you want them to know it. You like being the know-it-all genius. What would you be without it?”

The question was rhetorical, but he answered nonetheless, “Nothing.” Your eyes widened at his response, shaken by his omission. “You’re right, I’d be nothing without my knowledge. I’m not Sherlock Holmes without my deductive skills, if I couldn’t easily figure out what others cannot. But I’m also not me without John Watson. Without you.”

His vulnerability disarmed you, and your shoulders sagged a fraction as your demeanor began to involuntarily soften up to him despite your set mind. You were taken aback by his calm and collected expression, as if admitting what he has was somewhat of a regular occupancy for him. It wasn’t, though, and you knew that it took a lot of effort for him to speak that truth aloud. You were torn between the anger of what he had done and missing him after all this time. Your heart yearned for him, and now he was standing before you - flesh and blood, alive - begging in his own reserved way for you to take him back. You knew you couldn’t forgive him on the spot, not yet anyway. But you did know that, despite all the pain he had caused you in his absence, you could accept him into your life once again.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #sherlock x y/n #sherlock is not dead

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sifeng · 4 years ago

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Review: Love and Redemption

While I first started watching this drama out of pure curiosity of why people claimed it to be “the second most tragic drama” (after GMP, of course). While there are certainly aspects of this show that could be better, I find it fair to claim that it is a wonderfully made xianxia, and certainly one of the best in the genre within this decade.

Plot:

According to legends, the god of war saved the heavens in a deadly battle against the demon a thousand years ago. Both fell from the heavens and disappeared from the world. Chu Xuan Ji was born to the world lacking in the six senses which makes her rather clueless and inept. She befriends Yu Si Feng, the outstanding head disciple of Lize Palace who falls for her, thus beginning a xianxia romance that is entangled with the conspiracies from the past. The Zan Hua Tournament is being held in the Shaoyang Sect and its leader Chu Lei has two daughters - his trusted eldest daughter Chu Ling Long, and the youngest daughter Chu Xuan Ji who is lazy and terrible at martial arts. When Yu Si Feng and Chu Xuan Ji meet through a coincidence, they forge a friendship with each other. Yu Si Feng falls for Xuan Ji despite the harsh consequences that he must face as it is forbidden for students of Lize Palace to fall in love. Meanwhile, Ling Long clashes with Wu Tong after she criticized his foul actions at the tournament. In retaliation, Wu Tong accidentally injures Xuan Ji and gets expelled. Having recovered from her injuries, Xuan Ji promises to concentrate on cultivating. Four years later, Xuan Ji and Yu Si Feng meet again. Si Feng wears a mask due to a curse that can only be broken if he finds true love.

Cast:

Cheng Yi (成毅) as Yu Sifeng (禹司凤)

Yuan Bingyan (袁冰妍) as Chu Xuanji (褚璇玑)

Liu Xueyi (刘学义) as Hao Chen (昊辰)

Zhang Yuxi (张予曦) as Chu Linglong (褚玲珑)

My Opinions:

Plot (My Rating - A-):

First of all, I quite like the pacing in this drama. As the matter of fact, towards the end I actually feel like some things were rushed, not dragged out. It’s never a show that allows you to press the fast forward button, because 1. the tragic moments are super intense and dramatic, and 2. you don’t dare skip over the cute/funny moments because you know there won’t be many left. Second of all, I really appreciate that the writers of this drama really decided that they were going to make the most tragic drama ever. They really dedicated themselves to that craft, and I think they succeeded wonderfully. In terms of plot points, I absolutely loved the whole 9 lifetimes idea. It really brings out the tragedy and beauty of Yu Sifeng - he will do anything to protect those he loves, especially Xuanji. I would not complain if every single lifetime was made into a 45 minute episode, though that would be 405 more minutes of Sifeng being tortured by love on top of the infinite amount of minutes that already exist in this drama.

One problem I had, again, was with the misunderstanding that separated our two leads. I understand that this misunderstanding was one that had to do with the morals, backgrounds and fates with both of them, and thus was obviously meant to be a separating factor, but with the way the two characters were written, it felt odd that it created such an amount of misunderstanding. Overall, the plot was good, it didn’t have any revolutionary ideas, but it turned up the tragedy factor and had consistent pacing (if not too rushed towards the end). I’m sure there were probably a few plot holes here and there (one of which is why is it so easy to destroy that huge jar thing towards the end? If that’s what’s keeping the universe at balance, shouldn’t it take more than just one Yuan Lang to destroy it?), but overall, solid plot.

Characters (My Rating - B):

Sifeng is an absolute angel. He’s probably the most heroic lead in a drama who acts totally out of selflessness, who will help his loved ones no matter what pain it puts him through, and who can remain so kind, so unbothered mentally by whatever pain everyone puts him through. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have faults. He acts irrationally in the face of love and he often mistrusts the people around him. He’s a very complete character that not only evokes viewer’s sympathy, love and admiration, but also makes sense when taking into consideration his morals. He rarely does things that are out of character. If I were to rate just his character I’d probably give an A+.

But, there are other characters in this drama. I do like Xuanji, not as much as I like Sifeng, but I like her more than most drama leads. Despite the whole lacking six senses thing being a super confusing plot hole of sorts (like she clearly likes people in the beginning, Linglong, Minyan, her father, and dislikes people, Wu Tong, but isn’t she supposed to be unfeeling? Also she screamed out of fear when she fell using the teleport tool etc etc), I liked how she wasn’t stupid, but simply naïve. She’s actually a pretty smart person, especially in the first half of the drama, when she defended Sifeng against the Five Sects, and then Minyan after he was caught from Tianxu Tang. She didn’t let herself be manipulated by her father or Hao Chen, but rather thought for herself, took into account what she knew of their characters and came to the correct conclusion that the Five Sects were being stupid. I found myself a slight bit annoyed when she took the Five Sects side on the whole Mosha Xing issue, but given that the argument was no longer Sifeng vs. her father, but rather demons vs. humans, I can sort of understand why she didn’t trust him. Also, he did lie to her a bunch of times so, I suppose that adds to the fact. Though, she failed to use the trait that I used to really like, which was the ability to take logic and character into consideration. Did she really think that Sifeng never loved her? Because like, with all the evidence right there in her memory, I find it hard for anyone logical being to come to that conclusion. Also, I really like how she eventually became as loving of Sifeng as he was of her. She was literally willing to destroy the world, and herself, just to save him.

As I have said before, no one likes Hao Chen, and that’s good. He’s obviously written to be a character that you should dislike, not only because he gets in the way of Sifeng and Xuanji, but because he is clearly so biased against demons (despite the fact that most demons aren’t even bad at all); because he manipulates Xuanji/God of War so many times and doesn’t even feel guilty whatsoever; because he always says “for the three realms” and yet happens to do things that will completely destroy the peace of the three realms. There are things to like about him, like I am pretty sure that he does actually care about the three realms, and he does want there to be peace, but his ideology about peace, and love, and war are just so skewed that he ends up doing the opposite of what he wants to do.

Other characters were mostly likable, like Linglong, Zi Hu, Teng She, Minyan (most of the time), Xiao Yinhua, Ruo Yu (sometimes), Wu Zhiqi, etc etc. Some were evil for no apparent reason like Yuan Lang (why does he want to control the three worlds? What happened to him in the past for him to become this power hungry? If these questions were answered this character could be sooooo much more compelling) and Wu Tong (again, why did he start out so violent and cruel? I understand why he become a demon and helped them, but like does he not realize that it was clearly his fault first?) Also, the Heavenly Emperor seems like such an odd character. I understand he is the emperor and so he shouldn’t hold his relationship with Bailin and Xixuan above their faults, but like why was he so okay with like letting a totally faultless Xi Xuan endure several mortal trials all ending with painful deaths? And if that was because he was being a good and fair emperor, why does he let a game board decide fate? He also just stood there while the world was ending, and it took Xuanji to convince him to help her. I would like to know more about this guy and his complete lack of ability to care about anything.

So overall, while I think the main characters were written very well, with complex characteristics, some of the villains were just left tools to push forward the plot.

Acting (My Rating - A-):

So first of all, Cheng Yi’s portrayal of Yu Sifeng was absolutely amazing. He brought out all of Sifeng’s traits super well, from shyness initially to the cruelness Mosha Xing to his loving gaze at Xuanji to the heartbreak in tragic parts. I’m pretty sure he’ll become a star after this show, and can I just say, he totally deserves it!

(Like can you see the pain in his eyes?)

I was pleasantly surprised by Yuan Bingyan here. I really like how her acting style changed along with the new role she took, as Xuanji she was bright and cheerful, as God of War she was heartless and cruel. You can see in the nine lifetimes that the way she reacts to Sifeng’s death slowly changes. Her crying scenes need a little more emotion, but overall, a super stable performance.

Chemistry/Romance (My Rating - A):

The chemistry was just amazing. I find it interesting that their kisses slowly got more and more passionate as time went on.

I think part of the reason they have such good chemistry is because of the acting. Like oh my god their tiny reactions to when the other gets hurt really gives it away that they love each other.

The romance was also written nicely. While some people complain that Xuanji didn’t suffer enough, I feel like they don’t have to be equal in suffering in order for them to be a good pairing. You could tell from the very beginning that Xuanji liked Sifeng in a different way from other people. And the fact that they went through nine lifetimes together, each one when Sifeng died because of Xuanji... it just makes their romance so much more epic. Add that with good chemistry, good kisses, and good acting, well of course people love this ship so much! Xuanji would destroy the world for Sifeng, because the only person that matters in her world is Sifeng. Sifeng would put himself through ten lifetimes of torture just so Xuanji can be happy, because so long as Xuanji is happy, he will be happy.

Music (My Rating - A): this one is simple. Just listen to the soundtrack and you’ll understand my rating. I didn’t give it an A+ though, because while all the songs are great, there isn’t one in particular that I love.

Costumes (My Rating - A-): Sifeng’s costumes are really pretty. Some of Xuanji’s are pretty too, they get prettier as the show goes on, but some of the ones early on were kind of meh.

CGI (My Rating - A+): the best CGI in a cdrama. Just look at the scenes where Sifeng shows his wings!

Overall Rating: A-

Recommend For: People who like xianxia dramas and dramas that try to incorporate a lot of themes. People who don’t mind their heart breaking a thousand times while watching a drama. People who want to find a couple that you have to root for. People who like super epic guzhuangs with lots of subplots, mythology, reincarnations etc.

#cdrama #Cdrama Review #I actually like this more than AoL #cheng yi #成毅 #Yuan Bingyan #袁冰妍 #I love the otp okay #they have such amazing chemistry

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tenmillionwhumperflies · 4 years ago

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Cloudwalker Series: Mouse the Dragon

Alright, so here is Mouse’s little origin story... thing, because Mouse is precious and deserves all the loves. Oh, and you can meet Azeera, another sorcerer boi.

Drawing of Mouse Here

Warnings for mentions of death, grief, mentions of slavery, ‘animal’ cruelty (contained in a very small space).

Word Count: 1700

Tag List: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

Orrien hated busy places, he hated the noise, the stall owners drawing attention to their produce, the chatter of so many people, the chopping, the grinding, the sound of animals. He hated the mix of smells that didn’t go together at all, fish and cinnamon, fruit and dung.

He hated the heat, the buzz, the way he had to bustle past so many people that just didn’t even notice he was there. He kept his cloak pulled up high, hoping to keep his tattoos hidden. No one could know he was a sorcerer. It was dangerous. They’d assume the worst, that he’d escaped or was going to start an attack on behalf of a kingdom. Sorcerers were not simply free, certainly not in his land anyway.

He kept his head down, buying what he needed to get by until he could travel to the next kingdom. Always searching, desperately looking for a new purpose now that he had lost his only son, and the man who had loved his son had turned to darkness and death. Orrien needed time before he went back to the Red Hills, back to the land he’d been born and raised on.

“Mama, look over there!” a child cried. Orrien turned quickly, thinking perhaps they were looking at him. He heaved out a breath of relief, seeing she was pointing at a small market stall. The mother ushered the child away from whatever it is they had seen. Orrien couldn’t help but approach the emptier area of the city. Something drew him towards it and didn't fight the urge to follow. He saw the owner of the stall was a cloaked man. Orrien couldn’t see his face, but he knew enough about him already. He had light magic, Orrien could feel it, but that didn't necessarily make him a friend.

Orrien pondered speaking to him, to find out who he was, but he was distracted by a strange tink noise. He turned his head to see a very small jar on the table, and at first Orrien thought it was a small lizard. He stepped closer, seeing that its grey skin was actually metal. He picked up the jar with care. The cloaked figure grunted, but that was all.

Orrien inspected the jar with more care, seeing that the small dragon inside looked incredibly scared. They were so small, only the size of his middle finger. They clawed at the metal with one foot, but the jar was so small they could barely move. They stared at Orrien with wide eyes. He felt so drawn to them. He couldn’t leave them trapped like this. It was cruel. It could kill them. Besides, a small companion like this would likely do him some good. He turned the little paper tag attached to the jar. Enchanted dragon, 100 pieces.

"A trinket has caught your eye, sir?" The man asked. Orrien recognised the voice somewhat, but he couldn't put a name to it. "Some 'trinket' for one hundred… You can’t put a price on a life, enchanted or otherwise. You know no one will ever buy such a small charm for so much. Distress them for too long and they will lose their magic. Why push for so much money?” “The enchantment on this dragon is... immense. They were made with incredible power- from love and care. They are practically alive with their own personality... My greatest work. They deserve a loving home, but are you worthy?"

"Money and power does not equate to kindness," he hissed. My greatest work. Orrien hoped he’d put the voice to the right face, and the fact that the dragon was enchanted. Reluctantly, he eased his hood back a fraction to show his face, his tattoos. "You of all people should know that. You say they deserve a loving home, but you treat them so harshly," he grunted before putting his hood back. "Trapping them like this. You should be ashamed… Azeera." The man carefully moved his hood away, showing bright green tattoos on either cheek, a sharp contrast on his dark skin. Orrien had been right after all, and his relief must have showed. He belonged to the Sorcerer's Circle, one of the eight. His enchantment magic was impressive.

“Correct, though it seemed to take you a while, Orrien of the Red Hills, high sorcerer of the Kingdom of Everblade." He remarked. “Former,” Orrien corrected glumly. There was no kingdom left to serve, not that he’d ever enjoyed serving that wretched man. “Indeed. Word spreads fast. But here you are, in front of me, as I’d waited and hoped. Fate always finds a way, doesn’t it? In truth, I thought you were dead."

“Why would you think that?” Orrien frowned. “Well, the last I heard of Everblade, it was being called Everblood and had fallen. I wasn’t sure if your apprentice had turned on you also.” Orrien sighed. “That castle was so low it could not have fallen any further… Avizon has chosen a darker path, but he would never turn on me.” “Then… tell me, where is your son? Are the rumours true...” his voice faded off. Orrien looked away and kept his eyes on the dragon that was now headbutting the glass with a repetitive tinking noise. “He is… he’s gone. Avizon told me the king killed him while he rested from wounds gained by protecting the castle. That is why Avizon rebelled and attacked. I was a coward and left him. I wasn't going to stop him after what Halve had done, but nor could I stand by him…"

Azeera sighed and bowed his head. “That is indeed a terrible thing to hear, but this was Avizon’s path to walk, his destiny. Fate always finds a way, even if you had stayed behind. I don’t know how Ignium will feel about the whole affair, but I shan't be the one to tell him.” “Perhaps, but what does my son have to do with buying a dragon?” Orrien asked. "And if I may ask, why are you here? Are you not still serving Queen Daphne?”

Azeera shook his head. “Not all of us were kept on as short a chain as you, you know? I was allowed to leave the grounds, but alas, no. After… Everblade, the queen decided against magic defences, despite my years of unwavering loyalty. Royals are realising we are powerful, dangerous, and most importantly, unhappy. Her focus is on the army, on a group that won’t risk so much if one loses control. She did not care for the reasons why young Avizon turned on the castle. She reflected and I believe she feared his actions would influence me. She released me peacefully, no quarrels, and gave me a home to try to keep me from turning bitter. I consider it early retirement, and really you can’t consider freedom to be a punishment. So here I am, selling trinkets to pass the time."

"I see. For what it is worth, I am sorry for Avizon’s actions. I should have been able to do more to stop this.”

Azeera shrugged. “It is a difficult situation, but when I saw Avizon after you saved him… I didn’t expect him to turn to violence, but I cannot say I’m shocked. What Halve did to him was beyond human.” Orrien shuddered, he needed a change of topic. “So what is this fate you speak of?"

"Ah, yes, that. Orrien, I don't think he told you, that it was a surprise but your son saved my life only days before the attack. I offered him a favour in return.” Orrien looked back down at the dragon and stared. Was he leading to what he thought?

Orrien continued to stare. When he stared in the dragon's eyes, he could see their pleading. They dug at the glass desperately, but it was so cramped it barely equated to anything. It bit at his own tail, but it didn’t seem to damage itself at least. Did he imagine it, or was there a familiarity? All he knew was that he couldn’t leave them. His heart told him that he needed this little one. He gritted his teeth. Orrien pulled the cork out of the jar, ignoring Azeera’s grunt of a protest. The little dragon scrambled out and hid in Orrien’s palm. He opened his hand just enough to stroke their head. They seemed so much more relaxed now they had access to magic, that they could move.

“The only way to contain them was to take away their mobility. They’re quite the trouble maker and an escape artist. They had started with a very comfortable abode,” Azeera explained with a soft grumble. Orrien put his hand up to his shoulder, letting the dragon climb onto him. They hid behind Orrien’s ear, chewing nervously on it. Orrien couldn't help but brace to have to argue or fight, to have to run away and get to the horse, out of habit more than anything.

“You're tired and on edge, old friend. I can recommend you an inn or offer space in my home to rest? That little dragon is meant to be yours. They were the favour Ro asked of me. They were to be a gift… for you. He poured his heart and soul into helping me make it… After seeing what happened to the castle I left before I could give it to him. I assumed they would be forgotten about, that you were dead, and so I put them up for sale for a good home. Fate had other plans. Your son’s love drew you here.”

Orrien bit back tears. He had not expected anything like this. For Ro to have left him something so... pure. The dragon began to slide down the front of Orrien’s cloak, so he put his hand out as a platform. “My debt is paid, the offer of rest is still there? The inn is the Crooked Key. It is welcoming of our kind and my home is just around the corner."

Orrien nodded. "Thank you, for everything you have done for me."

Orrien bowed his head and left, cradling the little dragon in his hand. “You’re so quiet… so small, like a little mouse.” He stopped and smiled. “Yes, that will be your name. I think it would have annoyed Ro just as he’d have wanted,” he smiled softly. He scratched their back, enjoying watching the dragon weave through his fingers and arch their back like a cat might.

“To get a favour from a sorcerer as powerful as Azeera and ask only for a trinket for your father… Oh, Ro, my poor boy… This world was not made for one as pure as you.” He forced himself to take deep breaths, to calm before he let the dragon back onto his shoulder and disappeared into the choking crowds.

#Cloudwalker series #tw: death mention #tw: slavery mention #Mouse #Orrien #Azeera #you will meet more sorcerers soon #once I'm actually able to write 26 #so yeah Mouse is super precious and I will protect them with my life #I don't even want to hurt them I just love them so much #a good baby

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 19

Title: Control

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007

“What the fuck is she doing here?”

They converse in harsh whispers as they seek refuge in the pantry. Using the excuse of wanting to prepare food and drink for their unwanted and unwelcome guests and then leaving them in the living room. They’ve been bickering back and forth for half an hour; arguing about the Sarge’s appreciation and approval of chosen furniture and decor and Michelle’s distaste of the ‘mix mash’ of colours and themes on the Christmas tree. Her voice is enough to drive Tyler over the edge. The way it picks up in both pitch and volume when she’s vehemently defending even the most pointless or ridiculous of things, the Midwestern twang that becomes stronger and more noticeable the more annoyed she becomes, the constant tinge of self righteousness and condescension. She’s the classic narcissistic; infamous for her staggering gift of gaslighting and her ability to make herself seem like the victim despite being the quintessential bully and walking definition of ‘mommy dearest’. Through the five years they’d spent in Colorado, he’d tried his best to ‘mend fences’; extending the olive branch a handful of times in hopes of helping to both repair the relationship between mother and daughter, and create a bond between Michelle and her grandchildren.

They HAD reached a somewhat peaceful agreement; she’d attempt to tone down her hatred towards him and at least try and treat her daughter like a fully functioning adult instead of a hopeless, hapless child. But it had lasted all of three weeks; his involvement with Michael McMann and the subsequent threats against his family only caused the woman’s spite and hatred for him to grow. After that, she’d vowed to never forgive him for putting her daughter and grandkids in danger, and double downed on her belief that he ‘stole’ Esme away and somehow bullied and intimidated her into not only marrying him and giving him children, but returning to Australia. She refused to accept any responsibility for either her daughter’s struggles with mental illness or her horrible self esteem, and placed the blame solely on Esme’s shoulders; calling her weak and pathetic and insisting that she had married a horrifically abusive man and was simply too scared to leave him. He WAS a mercenary after all; he brutalized and killed people for a living. He was an alcoholic and drug addict; his brain unstable and volatile. His involvement in the job immediately made him a threat; he was strong and big and capable of tremendous and painful bloodshed. What would stop him from inflicting damage -or even death- on her?

“How the hell would I know? I’m just as shocked as you are. Not to mention totally embarrassed. My mother and step father know what we were up to; before you answered the door. I didn’t have any pants on! Just your shirt! They heard me talking about how you destroyed my underwear! Not to mention you’re not wearing a shirt and your back and ribs are clawed to shit and you’ve got the whole ‘just got fucked’ messy hair going on. Do you know humiliating this is?”

“I’m pretty sure they know we have sex. We have seven kids. I don’t think they’re going to be surprised that we fuck. For fun. Not just for procreating.”

“It’s one thing for them to know we have it, but it’s another thing for them to know we JUST had it. How the hell am I supposed to keep a straight face around them? When they know I just got done getting railed?”

“Imagine if they knew you got railed TWICE. And besides, us fucking? Them knowing it? That’s the least of our problems. Your mother...who I fucking hate more than I have ever hated anyone OTHER than my old man...just showed up on our goddamn doorstep. And she’s planning on staying.”

“Well, Sarge did say they’re staying at a hotel.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow. “That’s not what I fucking meant and you know it. But you know what? They’re damn lucky they DID get one. Because there was no way in hell I’d let them stay here. I’d pay for the hotel myself. What the hell, Esme? Why are they here? Did you know they were going to do this?”

“I never would have invited them here. And even if they HAD mentioned they were coming, I would have told you. I don’t want them here anymore than you do. I’m not the one blame for this.”

“I told you to call her back. Or text her. When it became clear that she wasn’t satisfied with your ‘thank you’ email and started messaging you and calling you, THAT was your chance. You should have got some fucking balls about you and talked to her. Did I not tell you? To get in contact with her? To avoid her escalating? Did I NOT say that?”

“You did,” she admits. “You DID say that. And I should have listened to you. I WAS going to call her.”

“After Christmas. When we got home. You should have done it days ago; when she started calling at all hours of the goddamn day. Did you really think she’d stop? That she WOULDN’T escalate? You know her. You know how fucked up she is. What did you think was going to happen when you kept avoiding her?”

“Not this!” She wildly gestures with both arms in the direction of the living room. “I didn’t know she’d just show up! There’s no way I could have known that. She always has a big thing at Christmas. It’s her chance to look perfect and come across as the most amazing mother and hostess ever. I didn’t think she’d ever give up the opportunity to do THAT. And why are you mad at me? This isn’t my fault!”

“You know what? It is. Because I told you to call her. So she’d stop her shit and leave us alone. And now look! She’s sitting in our fucking living room. On Christmas Eve. And how the hell did she even know our address? How did she know where we live? You can’t look it up on the internet; I made sure of that. So some asshole wanting a piece of me wouldn’t come after my family.”

“I don’t know how she found out. Someone must have given it to her.”

“Who would know? Riley? Riley would tell her to go fuck herself.”

“Maybe Riley told her dad and he let it slip somehow. I don’t know, Tyler. I don’t know HOW she found out. And yeah, maybe I should have grown a set and talked to her. My bad. But you being pissed at me is NOT helping. We need to be in this together. Not fighting and tearing each other apart.”

“I’m about five minutes away from totally losing my shit. You know what the last two days have been like. How I’ve been struggling. And now she’s here? If she ever wanted to give me a psychotic break, this would be her perfect chance. Just watch the son in law completely snap; prove to everyone just how big of a fuck up he really is.”

“You are NOT a fuck up. You never have been! And I know you’re struggling. I’m the one going through it WITH you. Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I want her here? That is the last thing I want! But she IS here. And there’s nothing we can do about it other than suck it up and get through this together! And you snapping on me is NOT helping! I’m not the enemy, Tyler!”

“I never said you were. I’m just saying that…”

His words trail off as his attempts at damage control are ignored. Her petite frame intentionally bumping into him as she steps away; frowning when he tries to grab hold of her wrist and she aggressively yanks her hand away. He chooses 'peace keeping' in favour of escalation; giving them both of a chance to cool down. And he leans against the back of the pantry door, arms crossed over his chest as he watches her furtive search for something to feed their surprise visitors. The shelves are packed; extremely well stocked and organized. And while they bear a wide assortment of goods, she hastily rummages through things as if there’s nothing suitable; tears welling in her eyes and her entire body tense and her hands shaking. And suddenly he no longer sees a grown woman in front of him; the love of his life, his spouse, the mother of his children. She’s been replaced by a desperate and broken little girl so hell bent on trying to impress her mother; driving herself to the brink of panic and anxiety trying to prove herself worthy to a woman that would rather she’d never been born. And it’s far more painful than any of his own issues; an ache that claws at his heart and forms a deep, empty pit in his stomach.

“I’m sorry." Stepping behind her, he lays his hands on her shoulders and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I KNOW you’re not the enemy. And I sure as hell don’t ever want you to feel like I see you that way.”

“I know you’re going through a hard time and I know her being here is going to put you even more on edge. But I also know what will happen if we even attempt to kick them out.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t kick them out. It’s not like I’d say ‘get the fuck out and never come back’. I’d be a little more...tactful.”

“You think THIS is her escalating? Do you know what will happen if we even try to explain our way through things? Why it’s not a good time for her to be here? Do you really want to get into that with her? Considering all the things she’s already said about you? How she feels about you?”

“I don’t give a fuck what she says about me. Or how she feels about me. I don’t…”

“But I do!” She slams a jar down with even force to shake the other items on the metal shelf. Both her body and her voice tremble, and her chin and her lower lip quiver as she tries to hold back a threatening flood of tears. “I care what she says about you! I’ve always cared! Because it hurts! You’re my husband and the father of my children and you deserve so much better than that. And it fucking hurts when she says that shit about you!”

“Alright...easy now." Running his palms along her upper arms, he leans down to press a kiss to her temple; lips against the side of her head as both forearms come to rest along her collarbone. “Just breathe, Esme..." he draws her against him, squeezing as tight as her little body will allow. “...it’s okay…”

“I care what she says because I love you. Because I know what kind of man you are. Because I know what kind of heart you have and how much you love me and our kids. Because you’ve almost died for me. TWICE. Because she doesn’t know you like I do and she won't even give you a chance. And THAT hurts. To hear those kinds of things about the person you love more than you love yourself. Who SAVED you.”

“I never saved…”

“You did!” she interjects. “You saved me in every way a person can be saved. And you’ve been willing to die for me. Right from the start. And all she can do is hate you and talk shit about you and you have no idea what it does to me. What it does to my heart.”

“I’m sorry…” his lips brush her cheek, then settle against her ear. “...I never thought of it that way. I never thought about it hurting you like that.”

“I hate that she won’t even give you a chance. I hate that she looks at you like you’re some kind of horrible, evil person. That she treats our kids like garbage. I don’t care what she says about me. Or how she treats me. But when she does that to you? Or our kids? That shit kills me inside.”

“You’ve got to let it just roll off you, Me. Stop letting her have this power over you. Stop giving her that kind of control. It’s what she wants. It’s probably why she’s here. See how far she can push you. Try to break you. And I know you usually tell me not to react and keep the peace, but I don’t think I can. I won’t let her disrespect you. I don’t let ANYONE do that. So I can’t promise you that I won’t snap on her. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

She closes her eyes as she leans her head back against his chest; tips of her fingertips repeatedly gliding along his forearms. “I’m at the point where I honestly wish you would. I mean, maybe not go BATSHIT on her. I don’t want her calling the cops or child protective services. But I would seriously enjoy you going off on her within reason.”

“Baby, I will protect you from anyone or anything. I will stand up for you no matter what. You want me to flip my shit on her? I’ll do it. Want me to toss her ass out into the street? I’ll do that too. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. And I AM sorry,” he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, followed by her cheek and then her temple. “I didn’t mean to snap on you. That wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m an asshole.”

“You can be,” she admits, and he loosens his hold on her when she turns around to face him. Hands falling to her hips and then sliding around to the small of her back, fingers laced together. “But it’s rare. That you’re like that with me. And I know you’re on edge. I know you’re going through some real bullshit. And believe me, I would give anything to take that away. To make everything better for you.”

“I know you would,” he presses his lips to her forehead. “And I’m serious; I’d do anything to protect you. Against anyone or anything.”

“I know. I’ve always known you would. Right from day one. Even then you were pretty intense. When it came to the whole watching over me thing.”

“Well technically it WAS my job.”

“You were getting some good benefits on that job.”

“They were pretty damn stellar, I gotta admit. Who needs dental or prescriptions covered? I’ll take the five days of hot sex.”

“You were very well compensated for your hard work. Actually, I think you were pretty spoiled. I think you STILL are.”

“I am not going to deny that.”

“I’m sorry too. I SHOULD have got a hold of her. I shouldn’t have waited. This is just a huge mess. But I honestly didn’t think she’d do something like this. I know she’s crazy, but THIS crazy? What are we going to do? We have our things that we do. With the kids. We have our own traditions for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We can’t just forget about it all. It’s what they’re used to. It makes them happy. And to be honest? It makes ME happy.”

“And we’ll keep everything the same. I’m letting her fuck things up. For the kids or you. We’ll just go on with it. Do what we’re used to. If she doesn’t like it, fuck her.”

“You just know the kids aren’t going to be happy. The boys and Millie are old enough to remember how awful she was to them. Millie still talks about the time grandma said she was a mistake because mommy and daddy weren’t married when she was made. And Tanner? Tanner had nightmares for three years about you going to hell because you got me pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Well in all honesty, I was probably already going there because of other things.”

She stares up at him pointedly.

“I’m kidding. That was a joke. Not a very well timed one, but…”

“And what if she gets on Nugget about being antisocial? About needing sensory breaks? About needing his safe place and his safe person? I can guarantee she doesn’t give a shit about Autism and won’t bother learning about it. I bet she’s even in denial about. That she’ll say something like ‘there’s nothing wrong with him other than your parenting.’.”

“She says something like that? I WILL toss her ass out onto the street. Literally. Talk shit about my kid AND my wife? That’s not happening in my house.”

“Then we have Declan. A bull in a china shop. You know she’ll get on his ass about being too loud and too hyper and too active.”

“He’s a kid. He’s eight. And he’s got red hair. Of course he’s wild.”

“What about Brooklyn? She looks cute, but she is all daddy and she’s a savage. She will pick up on my mother’s bad vibes and she’ll open her mouth and all hell will break loose.”

“Babe…” he unlocks his fingers and moves his hands to her hips; squeezing tightly and softly massaging. “...you are working yourself up even more and that’s the last thing either of us need right now. Take a breath. It’s going to be okay.”

“And then there’s Takota. Who is crazy shy and super sensitive and I already know he’ll hate her.”

“He’s in good company then. We ALL hate her.”

“You get her and all seven of them together? It’s a recipe for disaster. Especially the Tanner thing. Because TJ will go the fuck off if she even steps out of line with Tanner.”

“So what do you want me to do? Sneak the kids out of the house and replace them with imposters? Get the real ones back once your mom leaves?”

She sighs in exasperation. “You are NOT helping.”

“I think you need to calm down and just let shit take its course. Whatever happens, happens. We can’t predict what’s going to go down and stop it before it does. And you know what else we can’t do? Stay in here for the rest of the day. We went to look for food to make. We’ve been in here for half an hour. She probably thinks we’re in here having sex.”

“We SHOULD have sex. Really piss her off.”

“While I’d normally be right into it, I don’t think even I can get it up under these kinds of conditions. Your mother is kind of a mood killer. Remember how we barely had sex when we lived at her place? And then totally made up for it when we moved into the farmhouse?”

“I always thought you were saying no for other reasons. You always told me you were worried about ‘hurting the baby’.”

“You actually believed that?”

“You were very convincing. I thought maybe you were just super paranoid that something would happen to Millie. And that you suddenly got over it. You should have just told me.”

“The whole ‘honey, your mother’s voice makes me impotent’ wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. So while I love you and I’d love to be able to bang the shit out of you right now and have you making the kinds of noises I know you’re capable of, it’s not going to happen. We need to get our shit together and deal with this.”

“You know what I was thinking? Never mind getting the kids out of the house. WE can sneak out.”

“And leave the kids with your mother? I know I hate her, but I love my kids and I would not do that to them. Now…” placing his hands on her cheeks, he gently turns his face up towards him. . “...we need to get out there before she comes and breaks the door down. You gonna be alright?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

“I got you, Me. I always do. We’ll get through this like we do with everything else,” he presses a kiss to her brow, then to her lips. “Together.”

*****

They make awkward small talk; brief snippets of conversation in between sips coffee and tea and nibbles of the assortment of finger foods Esme had prepared and laid out on the coffee table. There’s a lot that SHOULD be said; grievances waiting to be aired, hurt feelings dying to be brought to the surface, demands for both forgiveness and apology. But for the time being it’s nothing more than comments on the weather; the differences between the dry Colorado chill and the dampness that plagues the Eastern Seaboard. Five years have passed and no attempts have been made to heal both old and fresh wounds; Esme’s mother either in denial of her shortcomings and her responsibility in pushing her daughter out of her life, or simply refusing to accept blame or apologize for all the damage she’d caused over the years. For the most part she stays silent. Leaving it up to her husband to ask about the kids and life in Australia while she ignores the conversation entirely; spending her time glancing around at their belongings with a look of pure disdain. He even sees the way her entire body stiffens whenever he so as much shows Esme even the slightest bit of attention or affection; eyes narrowing and lips tightly pursing together if he gives her a reassuring smile or wraps an arm around her shoulders or presses a kiss to the side of her head. He knows the mother in law can’t stand it; any form of physical interaction between them or the way they’re so in tune with each other’s body language and facial expressions. Able to easily and effortlessly read each other’s awkwardness or nervousness and then doing their best to provide comfort and support.

He’s been hated since the very beginning. Viewed as the enemy who’d ‘stolen’ Esme from her family and somehow convinced her to give up her old life in favour of a new one with him; keeping her trapped by repeatedly getting her pregnant and intimidating and terrorizing her into staying with him. And while they HAVE had their issues and stumbling blocks, he’s never been THAT bad; refusing to follow in his father’s legacy as a domestic abuser and all around asshole. Even at his worst he’s always adored her; respecting her as the love of his life and the mother of his children. Any logical and rational parent would want that for their kid; someone who worships them and busts their ass to provide for them, who has proven time and time again that they’d willingly sacrifice their own life for theirs. But it’s never been enough. All the good going ignored yet all the bad being thrown in his face and used against him. And while he’s the first to admit he’s not perfect, he also knows that he’s not the monster even his own brain often makes him out to be.

“Do you still do what you do?” The mother in law addresses him, refusing to make even the smallest amount of eye contact.

“Not as much anymore. Now I have employees I send to kill people.”

Beside him, Esme clears her throat noisily and then reaches for a mug of tea that sits on edge of the coffee table. She’s been on edge since the moment she’d finally sat down beside him; nervously bouncing her leg up and down or swinging it from side, or chewing on her bottom lip or thumbnail. He’s done his best to step up and be her rock; tucking her into his side or taking her hand or running a palm over her hair. Little things that let her know that she’s safe. That he’s more than ready, willing, and able to protect her. And it gives him something else to concentrate on other than his own issues; caring for her forcing the dark and dire thoughts plaguing his brain to take a back seat.

Michelle tucks her chin into her chest and stares at him pointedly. “YOU have employees?”

“I own my own business,” he says, then wraps an arm around Esme’s shoulders and gives her arm a squeeze. “WE own our own business. We have for almost six years now.”

“A mercenary business?”

He nods. “A successful one too. Very successful, actually.”

“Tyler’s good at what he does,” Esme says, as she lays a hand on his knee and lightly squeezes; the smile she gives him one of love and pride. “VERY good at what he does. He already had quite the reputation before starting his own company. Now that he has? He’s extremely well known and extremely well respected and sought after. His guys are the best of the best. Second to no one. You won’t find people like that anywhere else.”

Her mother stares at her; a mixture of disbelief and disgust. “And you’re perfectly fine with that? Him having THAT kind of business? Making money by killing people? Or having others do it for him?”

“There’s more to it than that, Michelle,” he husband grumbles. “Way more to it.”

“That’s not all it entails,” Esme informs her. “It’s not just about killing. It’s about helping people. It’s about protecting them and defending them. It’s about doing what’s right. Just because you don’t understand it…”

“You’re right. I don’t. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand it now and I didn’t understand it twelve and a half years ago when you willingly ran off with a man that kills people for a living. That has so much blood and God knows what else on his hands.”

“That’s not all he did, mom. He didn’t just kill people. He’s saved a lot more than he’s hurt, believe me. But you can’t seem to grasp that because you’re too busy hating him for stupid reasons. I didn’t care that he was a mercenary. I was just as much as involved as he was. So stop making him out to be some kind of monster because you have some bullshit vendetta against him. Stop…”

“Let’s just try and calm down, okay?” Tyler suggests, his hand on the top of her arm as he pulls her into him; lips pressing against her temple, then her ear. “Just breathe, babe. No need to get worked up.”

“It’s typical of her, isn’t it,” Michelle snorts. “She’s always been over dramatic. Always blowing things way out proportion. How you’ve managed to put up with her for this long, I’ll never know. I’ll give you credit for THAT; being strong enough to hang in there. Mark sure wasn’t.”

“Don’t,” Esme warns. “Don’t you dare bring him up. Don’t you come into my house and sit here across from my husband and bring that piece of shit up.”

“He was a good man, Esme. You just couldn’t see that. You were too busy finding faults. It’s what you do. You get bored of people easily. Which is why it's extra shocking that you’ve made it this far. Twelve and a half years, seven children. Normally you would have pushed him away by now. I don’t understand the appeal, but you seem to. I guess whatever works for you…”

“You know what, it DOES work. WE work. And I know you hate that. I know you hate that I’m happy. That I got away. That I found someone that loves me. Someone that won’t let you control me and manipulate me and abuse me. That’s what it is, isn’t it. That’s why you don’t like Tyler. He doesn’t let you get away with your shit.”

Laying a hand on the side of her head, Tyler draws her even tighter into him, lips against her hair as he speaks. “I think you need to calm down, Me. Just try and relax, okay?”

“You really ARE brainwashed,” Michelle says. “You will defend him no matter what he does. No matter how much he drinks or how many pills he pops or how many times he puts you and those children on the back burner. You will always defend him.”

“I will. And you know why? Because he’s a good man, mom. He’s a good man and he’s a great husband and he’s an even better father. Only you don’t see that side of him. You’ve never been able to. You REFUSE to see it. You refuse to see how much he loves me and his kids. How he’d do anything to protect us. How he’s so willing to lay down his life for mine. You don’t see any of that. Because you don’t want to.”

“Why don’t you get some air?” Tyler suggests. “You’re getting a little worked up, babe. Just go and take a few minutes and…”

“I WILL defend him,” Esme continues. “I will ALWAYS defend him. I will defend him until my last breath. And you know why? Because he would do the same for me. He HAS done the same for me. No questions asked. So don’t you care come into my house and disrespect my husband like this. I spent years letting you walk all over me. And I refuse to let you try that shit now.”

Wrapping his fingers around her upper arm, Tyler gets to his feet; pushing into the soft flesh as a silent request for her to follow. “We’re going to go and step outside for a bit. Neither of us do very well when people just show up on the doorstep. And she’s a little on edge; Christmas always stresses her out.”

“It’s not Christmas,” his wife argues. “It’s her! It’s always her! And she just keeps pushing me and pushing me…”

His hand moves to the back of her neck, effectively steering her towards the front hallway. “Let’s go and get some air. You’ll feel better if you do.”

“Only thing that’s going to make me feel better is that bitch out of my house,” Esme mutters, as she shoves her feet into her beloved -and hated, by him and the kids- Crocs as he opens the front door and gently pushes her outside. Smirking when he hears The Sarge laying into the mother in law; accusing her of being insensitive and intentionally ‘stirring the pot’ and to stop acting like the victim when she’s the one that’s ‘doling out the bullshit’.

Stepping out onto the porch, he allows the door to shut behind him, then lays his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

“I can’t do this.” She shivers in the cold; arms folded across her body and her hands aggressively rubbing her biceps. “I thought I could. I thought I could keep my shit together; get through the next couple of days. I can’t even last two hours! Here I was worried that you’d be the one to lose it! Yet I’m ready to throw her out the front window!”

“I need you to take a breath and calm down. Don’t let her do this. This is what she wants. She wants to get under your skin and she wants to ruin things for you. Don’t give her that satisfaction, Me. You just give her power when you do that.”

“I can’t help it. She just gets under my skin and she keeps digging away and digging away. Until I can’t take it anymore. And she knows exactly what buttons to push! She knows the more she shit talks you, the angrier and more defensive I get. She knows that’s my weakness. In the same way that shitty people know yours is me and the kids. It’s why she does it; to see me squirm and get worked up and eventually snap.”

“Which is why you need to settle the fuck down.” He runs his palms along her arms, vigorously rubbing against the chilled skin. “Don’t let her do this. Don’t let her screw things up for you. For US. That's what she wants. She spent five years trying to tear us apart. She tried ruining what we had every chance she got when we were in Colorado. And if you let her get under your skin like that? You let her do that? You give her all the power. That’s what she wants. That control. Don’t fucking let her win.”

“I can’t stand when she talks about you like that. I know you have thick skin. I know you can take it. You don’t let it bother you. But think about what it feels like when someone talks shit about me. Or disrespects me. Think about how that makes YOU feel.”

“I hate it. It hurts. Makes me want to hurt them right back. Physically, usually.”

“You know what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and stomped on. Well that’s what it's like for me, too. When she starts in on you. It hurts. Because I know who you are and I know much you love me and our kids and the lengths you’ll go to take care of us. To protect us. I’ve seen you on death’s door. TWICE. Because of me. Because you’ve always been so willing to sacrifice yourself for me. So when she starts on her bullshit…”

“She’s never going to see me the way you do. Hell, I don’t even see myself the way you do. But she’s another story altogether. You KNOW what she’s like. You know the hate she has for me and why she has it. So why do you let it bother you THAT bad? Just let it go in one ear and out the other, Me. Take it from the source.”

“I’m not like you, Tyler. I can’t just turn my feelings off like that. I’ve never been able to.”

“I don’t turn my feelings off. If I could, do you really think I would have busted my ass twelve and half years to get you out of Dhaka? If I was able to turn them off, I would have left you and Ovi behind and I would have saved myself. And I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone through what I did FIVE years ago. I don’t turn my feelings off and you know that. I take it from the source, babe. And her? She’s not worth my time. I don’t give a fuck what she says about me. She’s doing it to be petty. She wants power. She wants control. I won’t give it to her. And you shouldn’t either.”

“I don’t think I can do this. Just let her walk all over me. Say shit about my husband. About my kids! I can’t just sit back and listen to that shit. I just can’t.”

“So stay your distance from her. As much as you can. Avoid being alone with her. Try not to get cornered into that kind of conversation with her. I will have your back no matter what. You know that. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. I DO know that. In the same way I have YOURS.”

“I don’t need you to defend me. Or protect me. Not against her. I've gone up against bigger and better and I’ve lived to tell about it. But fuck with family? Disrespect my wife? That’s not going to happen. And you need to trust me to be the one to handle things IF they get out of control. Can you do that? Trust me?”

“I always trust you. I always HAVE. With my life. With our kids’ lives.”

“It’s going to be alright.” He rubs his hands against her upper arms, then tucks her hair behind her ears and cradles her face in his palms. “I need to get your shit together, okay? I need you. To be my wingman. Or woman. I can NOT deal with your mother and eight kids all my own. There is no way I can survive that. So you think it can keep it together? For my sake?”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I think so.”

“Because those kids are going to be home soon and your mom being here is going to throw them off and who knows what kind of shit show is going to go down. Don’t bail on me, Esme. I need you. In more ways than one. In EVERY way, actually.”

“Finally admitting it, huh?” She chides. “Only took you twelve and a half years.”

“I know you’re going to try and argue with me, but I need you a lot more than you need me.”

“I don’t think…”

“Nope." He pecks her lips to silence her. "Not gonna listen. Not even going to give you the chance to finish that sentence. Because you know I’m right. You always talk about how brave and strong I am? Me, you’re the bravest and strongest person I know. That I’ve EVER known. The things I’ve seen you go through? Willingly? The things I've seen you deal with in the past twelve and a half years? The things you've done? Especially for me? There is no one on this earth that’s stronger than you, believe me. And you have no idea how much I really do love you. How much I actually do worship you and respect you."

“It’s only Christmas Eve and you’re already going to make me cry. Don’t you usually hold off until Christmas Day? When you do something so incredibly sweet and romantic and amazing?”

“I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he grins, then tangles his fingers in her hair and gently tugs her head back; lips softly pressing against his forehead. “Just stick with me, kiddo. You’ll be alright.”

“I remember you saying those exact words to me. At Gaspar’s house. In the guest room. After we…”

“It wasn’t RIGHT after. And I was being an asshole. Because you made fun of me because you said I had gray hair in my beard.”

“I didn’t make fun of you. I said it was sexy. That it would look distinguished if the whole thing went gray.”

“Old. You said I’d look old.”

“Well I MEANT distinguished.”

“Sure you did.”

“And look, twelve and a half years later, and you still have the same amount of gray in your beard. A little more in your hair, mind you.”

“All those gray hairs? They all have your name on them.”

“You can complain all you want. You can bitch and moan that I’m stubborn and I’m difficult and that I’m a huge pain in your ass. But you’d miss me if I was gone.”

He hates the feeling of dread that creeps in at those last three words; so simple and said in a light and playful way, but sending a chill that seems to borrow through his bones and travel right to his very soul. It’s his worst nightmare; facing a future without her and struggling to stay on the straight and narrow for the benefit of his kids. His old vices would return with a vengeance; the booze and the pain meds and suicidal tendencies. And then he’d lose any and all remaining links to her; his children torn from him because his demons and weaknesses would somehow overpower his love for them. But he manages a smile for her sake; never wanting her to realize just how much losing her WOULD actually destroy him.

“I don’t even like thinking about that.” His hands slip from her hair; sliding down her spine and resting at the small of her back . “Never mind talking about it.”

The smile broadens, and she perches her on tiptoes in order to wrap her arms around his neck. “I knew it,” she says, eyes sparkling playfully up as her body leans into his. “I AM your favourite. You do love me, Tyler Rake.”

“I do,” he confirms, and he lightly slaps his palms against the cheeks of her ass; lightly squeezing before drawing her into him and pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “And you have no idea how much.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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euvirginia · 4 years ago

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ღ VIRGINIA VIAMONTES — CHARACTER TROPES

PART 1/2

stepford smiler

tw mention of mental illness - anxiety & depression

virginia will always have a smile on her face, no matter what. a cursed blessing, a power bestowed to her by dionysus allowing her to maintain a permanent poker face. on the outside, virginia comes across as yet another ditzy social butterfly. bubbly, carefree, and annoyingly optimistic, it doesn’t seem like there’s much that can actually faze her. a lover of the spotlight, she makes sure she’s hard to miss, always one you can hear coming a mile away and brightening any room she walks into. at her core, she’s extremely friendly, always needing wanting someone to talk to. an expert at small talk, priding herself in always being able to fill up awkward silences. of course, this is nothing more than a mask she puts on because the truth is virginia viamontes, is utterly and devastatingly broken. she’s been like this for a while. always having the perfect smile on her lips while laying awake at night by the demons that haunt her. the insecurities and fears that run through her mind are never ending. part of the reason why you’ll rarely find virginia on her own is because of how easily it is for her to get sucked into her own thoughts. she’s terrified of never being good enough: not being talented, not being smart enough, not being beautiful enough, not being worthy enough — of literally not being enough for anyone. she’s completely numb inside, the smile she puts on being nothing more than a facade to get her through the day. she works extremely hard and bends over backwards for others only to feel like she’s let down someone every time. it’s something that has gone untreated for years with virginia refusing to admit that how she feels isn’t normal or accept that she needs help.

abusive parents

tw mention of emotional neglect, mention of death

while virginia cares deeply for her parents, her mother especially, the relationship she has with graciela viamontes and dionysus is rocky to say the least. as a child she idolized the romantic fairytale her mother had created about how her parents met. graciela spinning a story of how dionysus was her prince charming who fell to his untimely demise before vi was born. going so far as to take the girl to visit ‘his grave’ all throughout her childhood. it wasn’t until virginia’s powers manifested and graciela realized that the vague note dionysus had left behind about how he was a god and would be back once vi got older, that she realized her web of lies was soon to be untangled. it completely devarstated vi. while it was something she never confronted her mother about, it did cement some deep seeded issues in the girl. her mother became distant after it was revealed that vi was a demi-god, resentful almost. she still provided for vi but things were never the same. she stopped being the person virginia would go to for anything and everything. she knows her mom’s never looked at her the same either and vi’s almost sure that she blames her for her failed broadway dreams. the tipping point coming during virginia’s senior of high school when vi wanted to go to julliard and graciela insisted she attend eonia. while she was accepted into both, graciela kept pressuring vi into attening eonia in athens due to it being the ‘safer’ option. an argument that lasted weeks, with graciela refusing to help vi with anything college related, backing her into a corner until she had to attend eonia. it caused them to not speak for weeks with her step-father serving as a mediator between the two. ‘til this day, virginia’s almost certain there’s a part of her mom that fears virginia. every decision she’s made feels like it’s been something to keep vi at arm’s length all while keeping a very cautious eye on her, especially when it came to how virginia engaged with her step-father and baby sister. then there’s dionysus. meeting dionysus was such a let down, mainly because he was nothing like the version graciela had created. he wasn’t interested in virginia, never giving her the validation or love she so desperately craved. she spent years trying to please him, doing everything in her power to get just an ounce of something from him. once her step-father entered the picture, vi did manage to get that father figure she yearned for but it never took away the pain of knowing that no matter how hard she tries, dionysus will never care. with both of them being neglectful in their own way, it’s caused a lot of problems with how she involves herself with others.

never my fault

accountability has never been something virginia has learned to take. there’s always someone within arm’s reach to blame, somehow never making things her fault. she’s always merely reacting to the actions of someone else. she’s been like this since she was a little girl. during her playground years, this would translate as virginia incessantly bugging her classmates to the point of them lashing out at her. of course, what most adults would see were the crying little girl who was being picked on, vi conveniently not mentioning how they had said no multiples times before before losing their temper on her. the older she got, the more trouble she seemed to get herself into. never acting alone and always putting the blame on whoever she managed to wrap into her mess. it’s evident with her relationship with others, the victim card being something she knows how to play all to well. whether it’s a fallout with a friend, a break-up with a significant other, even a fight with a siblings - she’ll say she’s never the one at fault. someone always did something leaving her to come out of it scot-free, at least that’s the story she’ll tell.

i just want to be loved

there’s an innate need of wanting to be loved. between the web of lies her mom made up, endless rom-com’s virginia grew up watching, and lack of love she received from both parents, she was definitely influenced at a young age to feel a certain way toward love. whether it was familial, platonic, or romantic, she’s always yearned for it. the need to be validated and liked by others stemming from just simply wanting love. she’s definintely a hopeless romantic at heart, falling way too hard, way too fast. she let’s her emotions get the best of her, usually in an unhealthy way that always leaves her feeling like as much as she wants to be loved, she either doesn’t deserve it or will never get it.

her own worst enemy

tw mention of mental illness - anxiety & depression

if there is one thing vi has always seemed to excel at, it’s been sabotaging herself. doesn’t really matter what the topic is, if there’s a chance things might go wrong, vi makes sure she’s the one that makes it go wrong before things have a chance to blow up on their own. there’s a sense of power that she feels she has with this, like if she can somehow control the situation, she can control her emotions upon the outcome of things? unsurprisingly, it never ends up working in her favor. her insecurities and fears always getting the best of her. at the end of the day, she hates herself too much to allow herself to be happy. it’s an annoying contradiction, considering how much she actually wishes to be happy. she’s just so set into her self-loathing ways that she sabatoges any type of happiness or success that seems to be near.

FUN BONUS —

alliterative name

her name was specifically picked as an alliterative name. first, going off the nickname ‘vi’ and finding what name fit: viviana, violet, viviette, were some of the contenders before picking virginia. hence, before the revamp she was virginia vinh and is now virginia viamontes.

#eutropes #tw emotional neglect #tw death mention #tw anxiety #tw depression

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