#I’m about to shout some more highly earned praise your way any day now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

restlessfandoming · 4 years

Text

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

if anyone has seen maid-sama, Lumine and Childe sometimes reminded me of Misaki and Usui so i had to write it hehe :3 if you haven’t seen it, i highly suggest it, its a very cute anime and if you like chilumi, you’ll definitely like the main couple in it! its on netflix! :D

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]

* * *

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 1)

“Childe, for the last time, earrings are against the school uniform code,” Lumine said to him, eyes narrowing at the red jewelry dangling from his ear. He may have towered over her, but she was the student council president—she had to enforce the rules no matter what.

Childe tilted his head, fingers grazing over his earring. “A tiny thing like this? Surely you can let me off the hook, Madame President?”

“No exceptions. Remove it now or I will forcibly confiscate it from you.”

He scoffed, turning away. “I’d like to see you try.”

Lumine clenched her jaw, watching his back retreat down the hallway. Oh, she could easily take it from him. But this wasn’t the place to use brute force. As much as he boiled her blood, she wouldn’t dare reveal her secret here.

Childe, the school’s number one troublemaker: always getting into fights, never listening to authorities, doing whatever he pleased. And the worst part? He always got away with it.

The girls of the school fawned over his good looks, the boys envied his strength, and the elders fell victim to his charisma.

Not Lumine though. She refused to be influenced by him. Maybe that’s why he always seemed so annoyed by her. Good.

She ripped out a page of her student council notebook, scribbling out Childe’s name and dress code violation, pocketing it to turn in later.

She practically stomped her way into the student council room, earning a glance from the Vice President—her twin brother Aether.

“Childe?” he asked, going back to typing on his laptop.

Lumine slumped in her chair. “Yes,” she nearly growled. “How did you know?”

“Because he always puts you in the worst of moods,” her brother answered. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to put him in his place.”

“And get kicked out of school for murder? No thank you; I’m not ruining an absolutely clean record for the likes of someone like Childe.” She flipped through her notebook, seeing all her citations on said troublemaker. “Soon enough, that boy is going to get expelled, mark my words.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the student council reporter—a student named Bennett—dashed in, holding the side of his face.

“Madame President!” he announced. “There’s a fight breaking out in the hallway!”

Both Aether and Lumine stood. “What happened to your face, Bennett?” Aether asked.

The reporter let out a sheepish laugh. “I, uh, tried to break up the fight but ended up getting punched in the face.”

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get you to the nurse,” Aether said, walking Bennett out the door.

Lumine quickly walked out after them, hearing the commotion down the hallway. As she turned the corner, there was a crowd of students circled around the tussle.

“Out of the way!” Lumine shouted.

At the sound of her voice, many students scattered back to their classrooms, leaving only the perpetrators still fighting: a short boy with cropped blue hair and—Childe.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Break. It. Up! Or it’s suspension for the both of you!”

The short boy gave Childe a harsh shove, adjusting his odd cap with tassels on the sides. “You don’t have to fight me every time you see me, you brute,” the boy hissed.

Childe laughed. “C’mon, Scaramouche, don’t be like that,” the ginger said. “We were just having some fun, Madame President; no need to make a big fuss out of it.”

Lumine glared at him. “Why are you always at the center of trouble?”

Childe shrugged. “Life’s too boring.”

Taking out her notebook, she scoffed. “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more boring for you. Detention. After school. Both of you.”

“It was just some play fighting between friends, Pres,” Childe insisted. “Don’t be so stuck-up.”

“Not play fighting when one of my council members gets hit in the face,” she retorted angrily.

“Can I at least be let off the hook?” Scaramouche interjected. “He was the one who attacked me.”

The blonde sighed. “Fine. This was your first offense anyways.”

“Today’s his first day after all,” Childe supplied.

“It’s his first day and you welcomed him by attacking him?” Lumine asked, crossing her arms.

He smiled. “What can I say? We know each other.”

I want to punch that smile off his face. “Scaramouche, go back to class. Childe, you’re coming with me to in-school suspension.”

Scaramouche muttered something under his breath and walked away, while Childe cheerfully waved goodbye to him.

Lumine started walking down the other way, towards the ISS room, Childe’s footsteps falling in behind her. Most of the way was done in silence. Until—

“Say, Pres, why are you so stuck-up?” Childe asked.

Lumine grit her teeth. “Have you ever thought maybe I’m not stuck-up, and maybe you’re just a troublemaker?”

“Hey, at least I make your life a little more interesting, don’t I?”

“Not interesting. So much more unbearable.”

“Maybe you should loosen up. Being like this won’t make you many friends.”

“And fighting people will?”

“Fighting is fun. You’re telling me you’ve never watched a fight and found it entertaining?”

Lumine stopped in her tracks. “Of course not. You only do it when something’s seriously on the line. Not for fun.”

“Uh-uhm, excuse me,” a timid voice said.

Lumine turned to find a girl, she looked young, probably a freshman, clutching a card. “Can I help you?” the president asked.

“A-actually,” the girl responded, “can I t-talk to Ch-Childe? A-Alone?”

The blonde glanced at Childe, who shrugged back at her. Letting out a sigh, she said, “Yes, go ahead.” She was doing this for the girl. Not Childe.

She walked ahead and turned the corner until she was out of sight and unable to hear. After a minute or so, the freshman girl ran past her, hysterically crying. Brows furrowed, she went back to Childe.

“So, where are we going?” he asked nonchalantly.

Asshole. “What the hell did you do to her?” Lumine asked. “Do I really need to write you up again?”

“What? All I did was reject her confession.”

A glare at him. “Be nicer. Don’t make girls cry.” She continued walking.

“Or maybe she should just be stronger.”

“Don’t you dare insult a girl’s strength in front of me.”

“I’m not insulting the strength of a woman. I’m just saying people in general could do better if only they were stronger.” His strides quickened, and soon he was in front of her. He flicked the earring dangling from his ear. “For instance, if you had the strength, you could easily rip this from my ear, and you could stop stacking up those useless dress code citations for me.”

Lumine had to clench her teeth to stop herself from murdering him on the spot. “I’m your student council president. I don’t solve things through violence. Which is why you and I are different.” Lie, her gut hissed.

She stopped, throwing open the door to her left, gesturing into the room. “You’ll spend the rest of the school day here.” She turned in, looking at the teacher. “Mr. Diluc, you have a student here for in-school suspension for the rest of the day.”

Mr. Diluc glanced up from his book, expressionless. “Childe. Back so soon?”

Childe sauntered in, taking a seat. “You know our Pres. Always working on cleaning up the school from scum like me.”

“Good for her,” Diluc said. “Thank you, Lumine.”

Lumine nodded and closed the door behind her. Finally.

At least Childe wouldn’t be causing anymore trouble today.

* * *

Lumine shivered as the chilling locker room hit her bare skin. Shedding her hoodie, she donned a simple black sports tank top and shorts.

“Are they ever going to get heaters for these locker rooms?” she muttered.

“It’s an underground fighting ring,” Aether said, “You think they can afford state-of-the-art locker rooms?” He tossed her a roll of hand wraps.

She caught it, unraveling it, and started to wrap them around her knuckles. “You’re right. As long as they pay me, I shouldn’t be complaining.”

Aether nodded, taking her gloves out from her gym bag. “Are you ever going to tell Mom how you get all this cash?”

“Never. She’d probably die of a heart attack.”

“And your injuries?”

“I try not to get any,” she said with a smirk. “If I do, then, hey, the restaurant business can be dangerous...and I can be clumsy.”

And that was her big secret.

In the night, Lumine was a top tier fighter in Teyvat’s underground fighting ring. She was known as “The Outlander.”

After their father had walked out on them years ago, Lumine, Aether, and their mother were left with a huge amount of his debt to pay off. Their mother took on two jobs to support them, leaving her exhausted, sickly, and barely home. Lumine and Aether couldn’t find decent paying jobs at their age, so Lumine took matters into her own hands.

Through her tenacity, she trained hard and started showing up to the underground fights, learning her way through the system, and eventually began fighting herself. Sure, it was illegal due to the violence and betting system, but it made good money—fast. Enough money to support their family, pay off the debt, and save some aside for her and Aether’s future.

Aether of course still worked as a cashier at a local grocery store (next to the restaurant Lumine claimed she worked at); Lumine would never let her dear brother participate in her line of work. He was only allowed to come along to cheer her on.

She was also good at it. After some training, her instructors all praised her natural fighting instincts. In a matter of months, she had become one of the top fighters in her area.

It was out of necessity. They needed the money.

Of course, no one knew who she really was. She always fought with a mask on—she couldn’t let her identity be compromised. A high school student beating up all these grown adults? A chance she could be recognized and reported to authorities? No. Way. Plus, people liked the mysterious Outlander figure. Might as well milk it.

The cheers above her swelled, and Lumine did her final stretches and prepped to go out on stage.

“You ready to fight tonight?” Aether asked.

Lumine slipped her mask on. “Always.”

She made her way up the staircase, and the buzzing crowd grew louder and louder, until she entered the arena, and the cheers became deafening.

The arena was probably around the size of her school gym, maybe smaller, but packed to the brim with cheering fans and a boxing cage in the middle.

She made her way up to the cage, chants of “Outlander” swirling around her, and took her walk around the area, getting a feel for the night. Eventually, her mind blurred out the crowd, focusing on becoming in tune with her body.

Tonight, her opponent was another member of the Hilichurl gang: a gang notorious for entering lots of members into these types of fights, even if they weren’t good, as a way to try and earn any kind of money for their gang. It was an easy win. Lumine barely got hit. (The Hilichurl on the other hand ended the night sobbing his heart out on stage. Lumine felt kind of bad. Kind of.)

Soon enough, she and Aether were on their way home with a fresh wad of cash in their bag, practically skipping their way past the dim street lights. As they made their way towards their bus home, Lumine rifled through her bag, realizing she had left one of her textbooks in the locker room from when she had been studying before the fight.

She cursed. Now she had to go all the way back to the arena. “Aether, you need to get home—the next bus won’t be here for another hour.”

“Lumine, I am not leaving you alone in this sketchy part of town.”

“And you have to be there when Mom gets back, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.” Lumine was already turning around. “Tell her I had to stay behind at the restaurant to help clean up.”

Her brother pursed his lips.

“Aether. I’ll be fine. Did you seriously forget what I did to get that stack of cash?” she reassured.

He sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right.” He hugged his sister. “Still. Be careful, please.”

She held up her fist which was still wrapped in the fighter’s tape. “Of course. See you back home.”

With that, the twins went separate ways.

Now maskless, Lumine went the back ways to the arena, entering through a side door, avoiding the still rowdy crowd of spectators gathered for the late night fights. She successfully grabbed her textbook, and walked back out the side door. Straight into somebody.

Shit. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, keeping her head down, hoping they wouldn’t ask why some little high school girl was sneaking around the underground fighting arena.

But then the person spoke.

“Wow,” a familiar voice said.

Lumine looked up, wide eyed. Shitshitshitshit—

“This is a surprise,” Childe said, “Madame President.”

* * *

[part 2]

#genshin impact #genshin childe #genshin lumine #genshin tartaglia #childe #lumine #tartaglia #childe x lumine #lumine x childe #chilumi #lumichilde #genshin impact fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #me

387 notes · View notes

alluringjae · 3 years

Text

[ 23:45 ] ⮕ END

part of my collection of cookie cuts from all i do is wait

in order to understand, read the main story first here.

pairing: ghost!doyoung x female!reader

genre: angst, sum fluff if you really squint

warnings: death, grief

author’s note: someone asked me how i would interpret this scene, so here it is. this hurt A LOT. have fun though!

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Mid-1953

At long last, the Korean War has ended after 3 years.

Over 5 million people dead, and to be one of the lucky survivors was a miracle.

The remaining soldiers who’ve fought through it all could return home, whilst civilians can properly rebuild all that was devastatingly destroyed in their cities. Their own normal lives included.

The fiercest 3 years of your life must you say, too engaged with self-studying your history books saved pre-war while dealing with the bargaining stage of your grief towards Doyoung. Every day, you couldn’t go on without overthinking the what-ifs. On top of that, your toddler Areum was at the stage where she loved creating a mess on the walls with her crayons. No matter how many times you’ve corrected her because it wasn’t your house, she continued anyway.

Now, she’s full-blown crying after you confiscated them and you’re on the verge of it. Thankfully, your mother stepped in to take her out for a walk in the neighborhood so you could unwind for a bit.

Since news broke out that the war ended, everyone from every street cheered and danced on the streets. You hailed with praise along with them, positive that things were going to get better. Yet deep down, you’ve selfishly wished that he was one of the lucky few to come home.

If only you didn’t chicken out so easily after he told you he was enlisting so you had a few more seconds with him.

If only you compromised him to join another field.

If only you told him about Areum earlier so he could go home.

These thoughts revolved your mind the most, instantly getting you to break down wherever you were. Even photos of him and you together were enough to tear down your walls. So, they remained hidden until the day you’re in a much better state of mind.

Dear god, you longed for him. Everything that consists of him.

In hopes to forget this tremendous loss in your life, you poured hot tea in a cup and started on this new book from this ongoing series, The Chronicles of Narnia. Getting it during this harsh period was tough, bartering it with old books you’ve owned in the market.

Fully preoccupied in the fantastical universe, flipping the pages quickly, you almost missed the continuous knocking on your door. You let out a tiny gasp and made your way to the entrance. As delusional to think it was Doyoung, you knew it wasn’t your mother and Areum either because they would’ve simply walked in. Opening it anyways, you were met by two young tall men. One had a bandage on his cheek while the other had a cast on his right arm. Noting their growing hair, they must’ve fought in the war.

Oh, if Doyoung was one of them.

“Hello, may I know who you two are?”

The one with the bandage spoke up, bowing first. “Hello, I am Lee Taeyong and this is my friend, Kim Jungwoo. We were good friends of your late lover, Kim Doyoung.”

Late lover.

Haven’t heard that since people in the neighborhood gossiped about your taboo pregnancy, but it’s not like they knew anyways. But from the letters exchanged with Doyoung before, he talked about these two highly. Whenever there were times of ease while serving, Doyoung was always up to mischievous things with these two. In a situation where they had to man up, they brought out his inner child.

“Oh, yes! Doyoung used to talk about you two in his letters, but I had no clue how you guys looked.”

By instinct, you invited them inside for tea by the patio. You’ve always wanted to meet them despite the circumstances. Bringing in a tray with a teapot and treats, mostly you were inquiring about their lives. Aside from knowing their positions in the team, you learned of their new plans moving forward.

“I want to return to university to finish my studies in mechanical engineering, maybe travel the world too.” Jungwoo stated, blowing on his cup before sipping it. He’s said to be an organized man according to Doyoung, always cautious of his surroundings. It balanced out his liveliness.

“Me too! I want to complete my major in finance, then marry my childhood sweetheart after a few years.” Taeyong expounded, his round eyes glowed in wonder. He must’ve been looking forward to this day, and you were content for him. Meanwhile, it processed to Taeyong what he said, realizing that it may have been insensitive.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He burst out instantly. “I got stuck in my feelings there.”

“It’s okay, nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

“I do think we should feel worried about you though.” Jungwoo interrupted, sighing heavily. “What happened with Doyoung-hyung all those years ago, we’re really concerned for you especially.”

At the mention of the painful memory, this wasn’t the right time to crumble. You weren’t capable to show your vulnerability to anyone but yourself. Plastering a wrenching pretend smile, “I appreciate the concern, truly. But I’ll be okay again. I’m planning to return to university too, then proceed to law school. A shared dream of mine and his.”

Taeyong and Jungwoo transparently viewed you like glass, coping with the grief of it. They were on the same page as you, and unaware to you, they knew his final words. With their interpretation, it only felt right to reach out to you. Befriend you, aid you in any possible way.

At the end of the day, three of you equally shared the suffering over the death of a loved one.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the front door creaked open followed by a tiny, high-pitched voice squealing.

“We’re home!” Your mother shouted.

“I’m at the patio, we have guests over!” You replied, pouring more tea for the two quiet boys.

From such a low-spirited atmosphere only did it liven up when an energetic Areum came into your setting. She had pigtails this time, satisfying herself with fresh bungeo-ppang from the neighborhood. No matter what you’re feeling, it took a single glance of her with her small moon-like eyes to recharge you.

“Mom, who are your friends here?” She pondered cluelessly.

The two boys exchanged looks at each other first, then to you in one breath. Their expressions of perplexity by how one’s hand was on their mouth and the other boy couldn’t stop staring at Areum, you identified exactly what they were thinking of.

“Areum, these are your dad’s friends in the army.” You animatedly confirmed. “The one with that tiny bandage on his face is uncle Taeyong, and the one with the white cast is uncle Jungwoo.”

Doyoung’s death was already so heavy to take in, but upon discovering this hidden surprise, Jungwoo wiped his tears on his sleeve. But you were fast to hand him some tissue. He was younger than you, so your older sister instincts kicked in.

“This is unjust, (Y/N).” He murmured across you so Areum won’t pick up his words. Your lips pressed against each other, maintaining a straight face at him. He was right.

With Taeyong, his arms spread out wide for the small girl who willingly walked to him. He loved children, having a nephew back home. He caressed her smooth hair down to her jaw. The first thing he distinguished was her pretty eyes followed by her squishy cheeks, resembling so much of his late friend.

“You’re so pretty, Areum. Did your mom tell you that you mirror so much of your dad?”

“Yes, she does! But I’ve never met him and I don’t when I will, uncle Taeyong.”

A tragedy how the splitting image of his best friend doesn’t see what everyone sees. But again, she’s only 3 and she can only process so much. She doesn’t know the real truth behind her father’s location, except that he was working far, far away. There are days she’d ask if he’d come back soon, yet your only response is not now. This isn’t the right time for her purity about life to stain.

“Well Areum,” Jungwoo gathered his senses again, crouching down to her level. “As his friends, we know that you look just like him! Prettier even.”

“Really? Tell me more about him, uncle Jungwoo!”

It’s about time someone else shared stories about your late lover because yours was short-lived. It’s even more intriguing to listen to what other people have to say about Doyoung that weren’t his parents. Some stories told by Taeyong and Jungwoo were new to you too, giggling along to their ridiculousness when they’re not training or fighting. Loving their presence, you invited them to stay for dinner with your family, which they couldn’t reject.

What started as a tense conversation transformed into a heartwarming experience. These two boys earned a spot in your life, aspiring for longtime friendships with them. The tender way they cherished for Areum like they’re own after meeting for the first time, it’ll fill in bits of her void. In exchange, they insisted to chip in for you and her lives so it wouldn’t be just you and your family. Struggling already with the consequences of the war, it only felt proper to do so.

“Doyoung has always been there for us, now let us return the favor and be there for you and Areum.”

Your protests were deemed useless, so you allowed them to do so. Once you finished law school and take the exams, you could pay them back. It’s phenomenal how Doyoung’s good influence towards others multiplied even after his passing. Maybe if you began to view things this way, you’d recover sooner. Although he’ll always be in your thoughts, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as it is now.

For now, you’re just going to enjoy the bliss Taeyong and Jungwoo brought, retelling old tales of a drunk Doyoung on the dining table.

From behind your garden fence in secret, Doyoung secretly observed as his treasured companions interacted at last with positivity. His only daughter mirroring his adored smile, he lived in that moment vicariously through her.

What a good time to visit today, truly.

55 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 4 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 9

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 9 - Tonks' Breakdown

Nova

I don't want to brag but I think I did great on my exams so far. I just came out from Defense Against the Dark Arts practical exam and was done for the day. I winked at Charlie, who was still waiting on his turn and was shaking his legs, nervous as he still thinks that Professor Rakepick, “should have at least showed us all the spells she was going to so coldly demand from us”, he said this morning as he ate what I think was about his third bowl of cereal. Penny was right; he was a nervous eater.

I hoped that I indicated that the exam isn't that bad after all as I was prohibited to speak with him after I finished.

I decided to wait for him in the Great Hall, going through my Transfiguration notes one more time on my own as I knew the lot would occupy me right after dinner to help them with their final revision.

One by one they came into the Hall to join me.

“That wasn't hard at all, was it?” Charlie sat down next to me and gently slapped me on the back.

“I told you, Char, I don't know what you've expected. We got this.” I raised my hand so that our hands clapped in a high-five and he started to put food on his plate.

—

“Say, where is Tonks? She stormed out of that classroom as she was done that I almost missed her pink head.” Charlie said, now with a full mouth.

“Hmm, I thought she wasn't done yet but T is before W.” Tulip scratched her chin.

“We did say we'll meet here after the exam to study Transfiguration right?” I asked.

Before we could question Tonks' disappearance any further, Penny came rushing in the Hall, panting.

“You...you have...to...help me!” Her hands on her knees as she was trying to catch her breath.

“Penny what's going on?” Tulip stood up at once.

“It's...Tonks! She completely lost it...because of the exams. She said that...her brain will explode if she has to study...for one more exam and that she's dropping out of school.” Penny finally finished.

“Well, maybe she should drop out then.” Charlie said with a straight face. We all frowned at him.

“We do have one more exam and she did say that her brain will explode if she has to study for one...” Charlie stopped talking as he saw none of us were amused by the joke he tried to tell. “Not the time to make jokes. Got it.” He scratched the back of his head, his freckled cheeks turning pink.

“Where is she now?” I turned back to Penny.

“In our dormitory. She's packing her bags!” Panicked Penny.

“Wow, she really did take her words seriously.” Tulip indicated that we should all go towards the Hufflepuff Common Room.

We ran all the way there and stopped a little before the entrance. Penny told us to stay put as she went inside to get Tonks. We didn't know what to do when Penny brings her outside. We did have only one more exam, even though I had to admit, Tonks did the worst of any of us in Transfiguration despite being a Metamorphmagus.

Charlie started doing fairly well by the end of the year as he tried his best to copy everything from me. Tulip and Penny were starting to get a hang of it once we formed our little study group. Tonks, however, couldn't transform her matchstick into a needle if it was the last thing she had to do.

I told her that she just has to focus more on the image of the thing she wants to transfigure her original object to but for some reason she couldn't get a clear picture in her head as her needle kept having a matchstick tip or was wooden instead of metal. I knew she was nervous about it but I had no idea it was this bad.

Penny interrupted my train of thoughts as she opened the door to the Hufflepuff Common Room, basically dragging Tonks behind her. By the look on Tonks's face, she wasn't very happy about it.

“Let me go, Penny. I still have some of those slugs, I will unleash them on you!” Tonks frowned at her.

“Tonks, what is going on?” I tried to change the subject.

“What is going on? What is going on, you ask?” Her hair was changing colors with every word she said.

“This is too much, that's what's bloody going on!” She lifted her hands in the air and started to pace back and forth in front of us.

“Tonks we have all been stressed out about our exams. We only have one more to go!” Charlie tried cheering her up.

“Yeah and just yesterday you told me that you think you did well on Herbology and Astronomy.” Added Tulip. “Or did your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam gone so bad for you?” She questioned.

“No, I think I did rather well. Transfiguration, however...”

“Tonks you have been doing great the past few days. Professor McGonagall isn't going to fail you if you don't perform all the transfigurations correctly.” I interrupted her.

“I don't care if I fail!” She howled at us. “I just don't want to study anymore. It's exhausting and it seems that's all we are doing lately.”

I couldn't help but chuckle as her hair finally came back to her normal bubblegum pink.

“Tonks that's what happens before the exams. I know none of us had any free time lately. Nova and I miss going down to the Lake and it's been like a week since we were at Hagrid's for tea.” Charlie grinned sympathetically.

“I have so many ideas for pranks that I have started writing them down since we don't have time to execute any of them.” Tulip joined the cheering train.

“I haven't drawn in two weeks, I can almost feel my talent slipping away and Pip didn't even hoot at me this morning when I went to send my mum a letter. He thinks I'm ignoring him so he's doing the same to me.”

“And I didn't touch my Advanced Potion Making book in three days and that says a lot about me.” Penny finished and we all nodded in agreement.

“I don't know mates, this is all too hard and this is our First Year. What will happen to me when we have to take our O.W.L.s?” Tonks sat on the floor.

“How about you worry about one exam at a time.” Penny and the rest of us sat down next to her.

“You're going to do fine and look on the bright side: once we're done we can go down to the Lake or visit Hagrid and just stare at the sky without a single worry.” I put my hand around her shoulder.

“Blimey, you really are the best friends a lad can have.” She wiped her nose with the end of her sleeve as tears gathered in her eyes.

“But just that you know, I am only doing this for you lot!”

“Of course you are.” Charlie smiled, stood up, and put his hand out to help Tonks get up. “Now, what do you say we go to the Great Hall to have some dinner and study for the last exam of the year?” He pushed Tonks away from the Hufflepuff Common Room just in case she would change her mind and try to run away again.

“You already had dinner.” I whispered to Charlie.

“Hey, I'm supporting our friend here.” He said with a serious voice that made me giggle, knowing that he wouldn't say no to another piece of apple pie.

After eating some mashed potatoes and fried chicken, Tonks finally calmed down. We were all sitting around her just in case she had any ideas of escaping. Then we slowly pulled out the Transfiguration books and notes, careful not to startle her as I tried to pull the conversation towards the subject.

Before I let her do any spells as she did seem to have theory pretty much figured out, I made her close her eyes and made her give me 3 details about a match and 3 about a needle. After she finished describing them I gave her both objects and told her to try to connect the details to the objects. I also gave her quite some time to touch and observe them and after about an hour and a half, I marked her ready.

“Okay, now look at the matchstick and imagine a needle in its place instead.” I was standing right behind her as I whispered in her ear.

“Now, have your wand ready. Concentrate on what the matchstick needs to become and say Conmutocus. Don't forget to create a sharp jab right to the match with your wand.”

Tonks took a deep breath, murmured something to herself, and said “Conmutocus.” She jabbed her wand sharply towards the matchstick and sure enough, it transformed into a needle.

Penny gasped.

“Wicked!” Charlie and Tulip said at once.

“You did it, Tonks!” I shook her shoulders, still standing behind her.

“You did it, Nova. You taught me Transfiguration! Blimey, you might be a better teacher than McGonagall.” She turned around and gave me a big, tight hug.

She then grabbed the tiny needle with her fingers, stood on the bench she was sitting on, and yelled “I did it, ha!” as she put her hands in the air.

We all laughed, while the Ravenclaws at the other table rolled their eyes.

“Well, congratulations, Miss Tonks. I reckon I can expect the same tomorrow at the exam?” We all turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind us, a slight smile on her lips.

“I...I'm sorry professor, were we too loud?” Tonks' cheeks turned pink as she realized that McGonagall probably saw her stand on the bench and shout in the middle of the half-empty Great Hall.

“Oh, not at all. By all means shout as much as you need to, Miss Tonks, if that is going to help you transfigure matchsticks into needles.” She winked at her. “I do have to ask, however,” she continued, “how did you manage to finally do it as it was just dreadful to watch your failed attempts in class?”

“Nova taught me, Professor. She taught all of us.” A grin spread across her face.

“Well then.” Professor McGonagall turned to me. “It's 4 of you, 10 points for each one you taught, Miss Blackwood. Good luck to all of you tomorrow.” She crossed her hands in front of her, smiled, and left.

“You just earned 40 points for Ravenclaw!” Tulip squeaked.

“I don't think that's fair as Penny did way more for us for our Potions exam.” I frowned, feeling guilty.

I didn't praise my effort half as much as I did that of Penny's. The lot would've passed even if I didn't teach them. I was highly confident we would've all failed Potions if it wasn't for Penny though.

“Get off it, Nova. I don't care.” Penny smiled at me. “What you just made Tonks succeed in is everything compared to some notes and potion ingredients.” She added.

The next day we made Penny promise to get up early to check on Tonks and to bring her down for breakfast even if she had to use the Levitation Charm on her. Even though Tonks was visibly nervous and didn't eat any breakfast, we were confident that she was not going to run away and after she told us how she dreamt about how she turned every object Professor McGonagall gave her to transform the right way, we were confident that she was going to pass.

During the exam, I kept glancing at Tonks to see how she was doing. After 15 minutes of her nose being firmly in the exam paper, I let it go and focused on my exam which I turned in 15 minutes too early as it was just the easiest thing ever.

I returned to my desk to get my bag and I heard Charlie whisper “show off”. I glanced at his paper and saw that he left the line where he was supposed to write the incantation for fork to quillempty.

“Scribblifors, Char.” I whispered and glanced at Professor McGonagall frowning at me and cleared her throat.

I quickly grabbed my bag and ran out of the classroom.

Waiting for the practical exam seemed to wreck everybody's nerves as people kept swinging their wands and mutter spells under their breaths. One by one, we were called inside and when we finally all met in the Great Hall I was pleased to hear that all of them did quite well. Charlie managed to turn his whistle into a watch. Tonks had to recreate her success from the previous day which she announced from the door of the Great Hall, making the Ravenclaws roll their eyes again as they were trying to study in peace.

In the final two weeks, as we were waiting for our exam results, we spent most of our days outside. It was warm and there was hardly a day with a cloud in the sky. We could all lay loose, read our favorite books and draw. Pip finally stopped ignoring me as Hagrid made his favorite treats and I went to the Owlery twice per day to give them to him.

The last day before we would get the final exam results we decided to spend down by the Lake. Charlie was rereading his From Egg to Inferno: A Dragon-Keeper's Guidefor what seemed the third time that week. Penny and Tulip were playing Gobstones and Tonks was napping. I knew that I won't be able to see my friends over the Summer and as that thought grew larger every day I decided to take this opportunity and draw them as they were all sitting under a tree, too occupied with their activities to notice that I stood up and moved a little bit away from them.

As I never drew humans before, I was surprised at how much fun I was having. I carefully drew Penny's big eyes and Tulip's smug face when Penny lost to her in Gobstones. I took extra time to get Tonks' snoring face and I think I did Charlie's freckles justice as much as his hair.

—

“Oh, I am so nervous.” I took a deep breath as we were all waiting in the Great Hall while teachers were handing us envelopes.

We opened them immediately when we got them and I went through my results:

Herbology E

History of Magic A

Potions E

Flying O

Charms O

Astronomy A

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Transfiguration O

“I've passed all my classes!” Tulip and I exchanged exam results. Hers read:

Herbology A

History of Magic A

Potions A

Flying E

Charms E

Astronomy O

Defense Against the Dark Arts E

Transfiguration A

“Nice job, Tulip!” I said and we hugged. After the teachers finished giving us all results we ran to the Hufflepuff table.

“So, did you all pass Potions?” Penny asked excitedly.

She and Tonks exchanged the results with Tulip and me. I read Penny's first then sneaked at Tonks' over Tulip's shoulder.

Herbology E

History of Magic E

Potions O

Flying E

Charms O

Astronomy O

Defense Against the Dark Arts E

Transfiguration E

Penny's results not only surprised me but took me aback. She might as well be the best witch in our year. Not a single Acceptable and she got Outstanding in Charms even though she started the year rather poorly in that department.

Herbology O

History of Magic A

Potions A

Flying E

Charms A

Astronomy A

Defense Against the Dark Arts A

Transfiguration E

“Tonks you got Exceeds Expectations in Transfiguration!” I exclaimed. She told us that she did quite well but I hadn't the slightest idea she did that good.

“Thank you, Nova. Actually, thanks to all of you.” She smiled and pulled us into a tight hug.

I felt someone behind me as Charlie put me in a hug sandwich between him and the girls as he just came from the Gryffindor Table.

He handed me his result sheet and winked.

Herbology A

History of Magic A

Potions A

Flying O

Charms O

Astronomy E

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Transfiguration E

“Three Outstandings.” He grinned proudly as I finished reading his results and looked at him in awe.

“If we are going to study like this together and get such good results each year perhaps Tonks won't have to run away anymore.” We all laughed at Charlie's joke.

“Will mum yell at me or did you do good on your exams?” Bill joined us and ruffled Charlie's hair. Charlie gave him the exam results.

“Blimey, who helped you study so much? You're going to make me look bad in front of mum.” Bill's mouth fell open.

“Perhaps next year you can join us.” Penny grinned at Bill. Tulip, Tonks, and I giggled as we all knew very well that Penny wanted Bill to study with us so she could get ahead in her Potions studies.

The next day was our final one before we would board the Hogwarts Express to take us home. We couldn't help but feel a bit bummed out as we knew we wouldn't be able to see each other the whole Summer.

After Dumbledore's end-of-the-year speech, we had a feast that seemed even bigger than the one at the start of the year. As Tulip and I were walking upstairs to our dormitories we couldn't help but reminisce about all the times we got lost on our way to classes or the Great Hall this year. We both knew we were going to do better next year as we already couldn't wait to come back.

7 notes · View notes

devourer--of--books · 4 years

Text

tagatha dating simulator au

- It’s sunday night and local college student, Agatha, hasn’t sleep in two days, practically glued to her chair at the library, trying to absorb the maximum of information she possibly could before finals on monday morning.

- Sitting across from her is her roommate and best friend, Sophie, who doesn’t seem nearly as concerned, playing a game on her phone. Mostly because she already failed half of her courses and is considering dropping out of college to pursue a modeling career, why try at this point-

- Agatha appreciates that Sophie is keeping her company, she really does, but even if her friend was using headphones, Agatha can still hear the background music and the voice actors very clearly. That on its own was distracting enough, but it was always the same lines, with the background music looping as Sophie restarted the game prologue over and over again.

- Around the fifth time she hears the app-staring-exclamation ‘milady!’ her eye starts twitching.

- By the twelfth she slams her book shut, earning herself a glare from all the remaining students in the library.

- “How terrible do you have to be at a game to not be able to get through the prologue?” she whisper-shouts, taking the sit beside Sophie, looking at the screen.

- “That’s not the problem,” her friend defends, proceeding to explain the game.

- Trial by Tale is a recently released dating simulator that has managed to gather a cult-like following. The game was praised for its diverse range of LIs, well-written routes, stellar voice acting, high-quality art style and a beautiful soundtrack. It was apparently highly addicting as well, as Agatha had never seen Sophie be that invested in... any game... like, ever.

- Basically, the main character was transported inside a fairytale-fantasy-like world, where they were introduced as a ‘reader’ to compete in the ‘trial by tale’, a inter-worldly tournament, set up by a mysterious entity (a magical pen known as ‘the storian’), in which the winner would be granted an unconditional wish.

- “Original,” Agatha snorts.

- “Can you just shut up and listen?”

- During the prologue, the main character meets most of the main LIs and according to the player’s decisions, the game would put them into a specific route, based on affection levels with each datatable character.

- There were about thirty bad endings for the casual route (where the player either made stupid choices or didn’t gather enough affection with any LI), ranging from mildly sad to terribly gory. Then, each route had five early bad endings, that could happen during the trial, resulting in the main character’s death.

- If the player managed to win the tournament with the LI, bargaining with the storian for the survival of two competitors, then two new endings would be unlocked: a normal ending, in which the reader would wish to go home and a happy ending, in which the reader wished to remain forever in the fairytale world living happily ever after with their partner.

- “And that’s where it gets weird,” Sophie pauses, opening up the Trial By Tale wiki page. “Every single LI has a walkthrough and seven possible endings.”

- She shows Agatha a bunch of characters, offering some commentary on their personalities and backstories. Then, she pauses at the last. "All but one." The character is the prettiest, if not a bit too perfect. ‘Tedros of Camelot’, it says on the top of his page, his basic info and biography listed to the side, but it’s full of gaps, blanks and ‘???’s. It was mentioned that he was a dateable character, yet no walkthrough was provided.

- “Why doesn’t it say anything? Has he not been released?”

- “No one has managed to get his route so far, but according to the game developers, it’s possible. We don’t even know what his voice sounds like.”

- “And you think you will because…?”

- “I’m me. I’m getting Tedros’ route even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

- Agatha decides to leave her be, going back to the books, while asking for her to at least lower the volume.

- An hour or so goes by until Sophie grows hungry and decides to leave the library, going back to the dorm. After that, Agatha finally manages to concentrate, and time goes by in a flash.

- In fact, it passes so quickly that she’s not even sure what time it was. When did everyone leave?

- Her phone is dead and the clock on the wall is frozen at midnight. Probably broken, Agatha decides. It couldn’t be midnight, the lights were still on, the library closed at 10:30pm sharp and no one came to kick her out. She was tired, but she wasn’t deaf. She calls for the librarian.

- All the lights turn off at once. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t freak her out a bit.

- Then, she notices a blue glow from under the table. Please don’t let it be a demon.

- It’s a smartphone, with a bedazzled case, a loading blue screen emitting the light. Trial By Tale’s soundtrack starts to play and soon enough the words appear. Touch anywhere to start. That was Sophie’s phone. Which would be fine and normal and okay if Agatha wasn’t pretty sure Sophie left with it.

- The music starts to loop, and Agatha uses the light to guide her to the entrance, only to find it locked. Every other exit was blocked as well. Ha. Funny.

- Eventually, she surrenders, clicking on the screen, trying to close the app. The last thing she hears is ‘milady!’ and everything turns black as she feels the floor disappear from under her feet, her consciousness fading as she fell into an abyss of darkness.

- She wakes up lying on grass, near a gate, the words Trial By Tale engraved on top of it.

- She pinches herself, feeling it sting as she stared at the gate, pinching harder and harder to the point she nearly screamed in pain. The gate was still there. Agatha focus on her senses. She’s never able to smell things on her dreams.

- This place smells like dirt, pines, dried blood and iron.

- It’s a dream, she tries to convince herself. Very vivid dream, but it’s a dream.

- A bunch of floating text appears in front of her: Welcome, competitors!

- The storian tells Agatha everything Sophie already told her: it’s a tournament, in which 40 teens from different fairytale kingdoms, including the reader world, must compete amongst themselves for survival during 24 hours. You could pair up with someone, forming an alliance, but there could only be one winner. Then, the world froze, turning black and white, three options appearing in thin air:

A: I’m a boy

B: I’m a girl

C: I’m neither/both/something else.

- Agatha experiments. The text didn’t respond to her voice or gestures; she had to touch it. B. They disappeared up in smoke, being replaced by a new choice:

A: climb over the gate early

B: go in as soon as the gong goes off

C: run into the woods

- All of those sound horrible, she’ll hang around here, thank you very much.

- Agatha decides to pick B, because it sounded the least likely to get her killed. Tapping the option, color returns and more texts appears, telling her the rest of the rules. Apparently, all forms of magic and weapons were allowed, as it was a tournament to the death.

- Well, she had neither a weapon nor any magic, geez, things were certainly looking up.

- A gong can be heard and Agatha waits for her legs to magically move according to her choice.

- They don’t.

- She debates on staying put for a few minutes, maybe way too many, but then she remembers: casual route endings vary from mildly sad to terribly gory. Agatha doesn’t wanna find out which one she’d get by sticking around.

- Her future now depends on her romancing one of these pieces of code. Thankfully, it was just a dream, right?

- Inside the arena (?), she gets some other choices, which Agatha uses to her advantage, trying to figure out which LI she was going for and how to win them over.

- Hort, according to her friend, was the easiest to please and the most boring of them all. Nicola was efficient and Sophie had managed to unlock her happy ending without a walkthrough. Aric was a psycho, and so was Japeth. Don’t pick Rhian, her friend had warned. Anadil was a hard one to guess without the walkthough, Hester was super hot and Agatha’s type but that could go very wrong (clearly her type wasn’t working out, as she was painfully single) and-

- Is that Japeth or Rhian? She can’t tell, but he’s coming her way.

A: introduce yourself

B: try to kill him

C: hide behind the rock

- She chooses C, but climbs a tree instead, because he surely would be able to see her behind the rock, was he blind or something?

- “You sure are taking your time choosing,” a voice whispers from the branch above her, nearly giving her a heart attack, “...first time player maybe? Or just dumb?”

- Tedros, the mysterious character, was looking down at her, resting on a higher branch.

- Agatha glares at him before blurting: “You’re shorter than you look on your CG.”

- He chokes. “You can hear me?”

- “Why are you british?” she notices the accent, given how different it sounded from all the other voice actors.

- “I’m bi,” he frowns at her in offended confusion.

- (The himbo energy in this bus is astronomical.)

- They bicker a bit and Japeth grows suspicious of the hushed conversation, nearing the tree. Tedros asks for her help taking him down. Agatha is like, sure, whatever at this point, just trying to forget that Tedros broke the fourth wall. It’s a dream, don’t overthink too much.

- She distracts Japeth, and Tedros tries to ambush him, but it backfires horribly, resulting in Tedros now being a few seconds away from dying a very very painful death.

A: run away

B: ally yourself with Japeth

- Agatha hesitates over option A, convincing herself that Tedros wasn’t a real person. He was a just a character in a game. But while the entire world is black and white waiting for her answer, she swears his eyes remain icy blue.

- Trick of the light?

- She presses A but throws herself towards Japeth, colliding with him. Agatha ends up being stabbed in the arm, but otherwise fine, which is more than Japeth can say, as he fell into a conveniently located black hole. That hurt like a bitch, how is this a dream?

- Tedros is shook.

- “What did you do? How did you even-” he eyes the blood in her arm. “You’re bleeding!” Tedros rips his shirt to wrap it around the wound, and Agatha does her best not to stare at him while he tends to the wound.

- A blue ribbon in the sky tells Agatha she is now on Tedros’ route. A ribbon they can both read.

- “That’s… troublesome.”

- “What, is your route cursed or something?”

- “...”

- “It’s totally cursed, isn’t it?”

- They argue a bunch and Agatha tries to ditch him but ends up almost dying twice. Tedros saves her, and insists that since he accidentally gave her his route, he’ll help her stay alive for as long as he can.

- Together they figure out that Agatha’s ability to disobey the game choices might be able to uncurse his route, hopefully sending her home by the end and resetting the game as it was meant to be, allowing people play his route.

- Agatha is pretty sure Tedros is not telling her something, but she kinda does owns him her life now (“2x1, sucks to suck, reader.”) and he offered to share some of his food and hiding spot with her. Doesn’t hurt that he clearly knew how to fight and had a big sword, while Agatha had.... free will and nothing else apparently???

- They end up talking over fruits and water (we love a healthy king) in a cave and Agatha finds out basically every other character’s backstory, learning a ton about the context of these trials as well as what the game felt like for the characters.

- According to Tedros, every other character was doomed to repeat the same route and actions following the reader’s choices, only to lose all memories by the end, as the game reseted. They were all blissfully ignorant of the fact that this was, in fact, a dating simulator. All of them but Tedros. When Agatha asks him why, he closes off:

- “Every single character has a core wish they want fulfilled. It can be the same wish every time, or it can change once your route resets. My original wish contradicted the memory reset, so no one has been able to play my route at all. And if no one plays, I can’t reset. If you go home and the game resets, I’ll make a different wish and my route should be fixed for good.”

- Agatha doesn’t ask what he wished for and he doesn’t tell her either; it feels like way too personal of a question for strangers eating berries in a cave.

- She does ask him what his new wish will be, though.

- “I’ll restore my kingdom back to its former glory,” he starts, a certain sadness in his eyes. “They deserve a prince who doesn’t waste time wishing for-” Tedros interrupts himself, telling her about his kingdom instead.

- Agatha knows he’s related to King Arthur due to his name on the Trial By Tale wiki, but she’s surprised that he actually gives her that info willingly. He is indeed the prince of Camelot, but his mother abandoned the palace when he was nine and then his father died a few years later, sending the kingdom into despair and disgrace.

- (“That’s rough, buddy.”)

- To lighten the mood, she decides to tell him about ‘the reader world’.

- “To exist in your world might be something then,” he smiles, “I mean, beats hanging around here. You said you have a machine that can play music anytime you want?”

- Tedros is fascinated with everything and asks her about all sorts of stuff, like about politics, lgbtqa+ rights, tik tok, food, the economy, school and fashion trends. Also, memes, lots of memes.

- They spend like 8 hours straight hidden in a cave, just talking, bickering and actually having a lot of fun. The lack of choices even makes her forget she was still in a game.

- Tedros notices how tired she looks and offers to keep watch while she sleeps.

A: say no as a joke

B: outright refuse

- Agatha taps A.

- “Sure, do you mind if I lean on you though?”

- Is this like a date or are we like doing my route and you’re sleeping on my arm platonically? Tedros is shook, part 2.

- Agatha tries not to fall asleep, but she does take a nap, leaning on his shoulder. Surprisingly enough, an hour later she’s still alive, but her head was now on his lap and he was petting her hair.

- “Hi.”

A: get up

B: kiss him

- She doesn’t wanna get up, but she doesn’t really feel like kissing him would be appropriate for the moment. She presses B, yet remains still for next few minutes. Tedros looks a bit disappointed, as if he was waiting for her.

- “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

- “Do you want me to?”

- He doesn’t reply immediately, running his fingers through her hair. “Everyone wants to kiss me. I’m hot, I’m a prince and I’m rich.”

- “You’re gonna need to do better than that to get me to kiss you,” Agatha tells him. “If we survive this I’ll kiss you once, just before we unlock your normal ending and I go home. For a CG.”

- “But then I won’t remember it at all.”

- The comment makes her nervous. Once this is over and Tedros gets his route unlocked, he’s gonna be just another character. He’ll say things like that to everyone. Agatha has to chastise herself for growing attached to a video game character. He’s not real. He wasn’t yours to begin with, you’ve known him for less than a day. Get a grip.

- They stay in silence until another gong goes off, the storian’s text showing up in the air: “12 hours left. Only 10 competitors remain.”

A: stay in the cave

B: leave

- Agatha chooses B and they head out of the cave to see who else was alive, just in time to not be crushed under heavy rocks. Strangely they don’t bump into anyone. What they do run into, though, is a bunch of traps and creatures meant to randomly eliminate competitors. Great.

- Somehow, Agatha always chooses the right option and alters her actions just enough to save them at the last minute. Is she a pro-gamer? One can only marvel at how lucky she’s been getting in this game. No, but like, really, is she? Tedros is impressed.

- At the 6 hour mark, there’s 4 people left, including the two of them. He’s been eyeing Agatha weirdly and she doesn’t know what to think of it because she liked hanging out with him, but at the same time, he is a piece of code.

- There’s like, a dramatic confrontation with the other two competitors, which turn out to be Aric and Hester, not as a pair, but as individuals, and it ends up working out in Tedros and Agatha’s favor, as those two end up murdering each othe while Tedros and Agatha have the advantage of teamwork. It’s a great action sequence, but if you’ve read this far, I’m pretty sure you’re not here for the action.

- Anyway, the storian appears, but unlike the other routes, instead of giving Agatha the opportunity to bargain for them both to survive, her options are:

A: kill Tedros

B: kill Tedros

- Agatha doesn’t tap either. She stays still, glaring at the pen while the world remained black and white.

- Then, the entire arena starts to shake, the game glitching as Tedros moves, his colors fading in and out, his expression tortured, as if just smiling at her was painful, his eyes glowing unnaturally blue. “Let’s get you home,” he mouths, before stabbing himself with his own sword, falling to the floor as the colors returned for good.

- Agatha couldn’t breathe, kneeling beside him.

- “To meet someone who’d love me for me,” he admits, bleeding out into the ground, a single tear running down his face. “That was my original wish. And then I met you.”

- She kisses him on the lips, and as you know, true love’s kiss breaks every spell, heals every wound and transcends the limits of storytelling.

- Tedros’ chest is slowly healing, but just as he gets stronger, Agatha grows weaker, starting to disappear through his fingers in rays of lights, back to the reader’s world, leaving a lonely prince by himself in a bloody arena with a magical pen.

- “Unconditional wish for the winner, hm?”

- Back at the library, Agatha wakes up with a snap, falling off her chair.

- The clock on the wall reads 10pm and the few students left at the library glare at her. She hurries to gather her things in her arms, going back to her dorm trying to make sense of what just happened. It was all a dream. It had to be because her arm is intact. She has been running on too much caffeine, finals start the next morning, she was stressed, that’s all.

- Sophie is still playing the game once Agatha arrives at the dorm, and as soon as she walks in, her friend tells her the news:

- “See, darling, I told you I’d get Chaddick’s route eventually!”

- Chaddick’s route?

- Agatha doesn’t even reply, going straight to bed, still haunted. That night, she has no dreams of handsome boys in caves, neither does she dream of blue-eyed princes bleeding out.

- Monday afternoon, though, a distracted Agatha is walking back to her dorm after taking her exams, when she bumps into someone, nearly knocking her over. She is about to yell at the stranger when her voice gets caught on her throat.

- “To exist in your world might be something,” the familiar stranger smiles at her, “I mean, I’m Tedros Pendragon, nice to meet you.”

#school for good and evil #The School for Good and Evil #sge #agatha x tedros #Tagatha #tedros of camelot #Agatha of camelot #Agatha of Woods Beyond

86 notes · View notes

the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Mischief, Meet Your Match - Chapter Sixteen (Loki x Reader)

WARNINGS: Graphic Violence and Gore, Swearing, Smut, Angst, Idiots in Love, Loki

SUMMARY:

Being caught in the cross hairs of The God of Mischief would scare a saner person but not you, you enjoy it. There’s just something about Loki that draws you to him, and you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to. Tricking the Trickster is exhilarating but you quickly find yourself becoming attached to him as you’re unwillingly dragged on the adventure of a lifetime.

While The Avengers race to get you out of Loki’s clutches, you find yourself teaming up with him to try and defeat an enemy who threatens everything you hold dear.

When you’re tangled up with the God of Chaos, there’s no way of winning and it’s anyone’s guess which you’ll lose first, your heart or your life?

Masterlist

Chapter Sixteen - Gladiator

There was a thin stripe of purple through the green of your band, signalling you were set for the Arena. It was what allowed you wander around the Green’s pits without being shoved into one yourself. You’d already explored the living quarters, small windowless rooms that held two beds each and been to a heaving, foul-smelling canteen where had been served some kind of vile, vaguely fish like pule of mulch.

“Why are you here?” A Kree asked you with a frown, studying your band.

“The survivors here will be my competition in the arena, and my fellow soldiers in the wars to come. I’m here to assess them.” You said, standing up straight in what you hoped was a show of respect.

“Tactical thinking, well done.” He praised.

You bowed your head deferentially and he wandered away. Ignoring the rotten feeling it had given you, you walked around the pits, taking note of the fighting techniques. Mostly though, you were watching the different races and how they died or got hurt. Your lack of knowledge about your last opponent would have probably gotten you killed if it weren’t for Gun and you needed to be better prepared next time.

“Runner!” Someone yelled.

You turned around in the direction the shout had come from and watched as a green skinned humanoid reached the top of the stairs, looking around wildly with frantic desperation. There was a glowing red band on his wrist.

“Wonder if they’ll kill it or make an example of it?” Someone muttered behind you.

Judging by the way the guards holstered their guns and pulled out thin metal rods that you could hear the electricity crackling off of, you were betting that they weren’t just going to kill the attempted escapee. If they were willing to throw their soldiers into pits and make them kill each other, what would they be willing to do to someone who crossed them? The runner sprinted forwards, into the crowds of Green’s. turning in all directions until he saw a path that didn’t have any guards.

But he wasn’t thinking straight. That direction would put him up against the wall. If there even was a way to escape from this place, that wasn’t it.

Every cell in your body was screaming at you to help him, to grab him and push him behind you while you fended off the guards. Your instincts were telling you to save him, that you needed to save him.

But a voice in your head that sounded more like Loki than you these days was telling you he was going to die no matter what you did, and unless you did something drastic, he was going to die slowly and painfully.

A voice that sounded like Natasha reminded you that even if you couldn’t save this individual, you could save thousands more like him.

A voice that was unmistakably Steve’s told you that you would never forgive yourself for what you were about to do.

The dagger you’d pulled from your belt sailed through the air and landed firmly in the back of the runners head, piercing under his skull and killing him instantly. As his body thumped onto the floor, all eyes turned to you.

Outwardly, you maintained a cold demeanour but on the inside you were falling apart. You’d just murdered someone in cold blood. He hadn’t been your opponent, he hadn’t even been armed. You’d killed him.

You couldn’t have saved his life, there was no way you could have saved him. You spared him a painful death.

You didn’t do it to spare him, you did it to further your cause. This wasn’t mercy, it was a calculated act of deception. You sacrificed him for your own gain.

The Kree who had addressed you earlier pulled the dagger from the corpses skull and studied it as he walked back over to you. Then deliberately, he held it out to you with a nod of approval.

“Kit? Just Kit?” He asked, glancing between your band and the screen in his hand.

“Yes Sir.” You affirmed.

“Disloyalty is severely punished here, but loyalty is appreciated. And noticed.” He crooned.

You took the dagger from him and felt a part of your soul die.

“I’m Private Ra-Thrall. I’ll be keeping an eye one you… Kit.” He mused with an intrigued stare.

“Thank you Sir.”

You had achieved what you needed to achieve, but at what cost?

~~~

The space around Earth was still void of any threats, and there had been no more signs from you.

There were militaries all around the world standing at the ready for that to change, thanks to Rhodey, Sam and Bucky’s efforts. The Inhumans had all been warned and some of them had broken the Accords by scattering and going into hiding while others had turned up at military bases, UN offices or the Avengers Tower itself and declared they were ready to fight. The whole world was on edge, waiting for a war.

And yet nothing was happening.

“Captain Rogers you have the entire planet on alert, for what? A rushed warning from a woman who by your own admittance is working with Loki? Do you have any idea the scale of the mess you’ve made? And I’m here for you to tell me that we need to pardon the Inhumans who have broken the Accords?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. They were warned that an alien race might be coming for them, can you blame them for hiding? If you want them to re-appear when this is over I highly recommend you assure them there will be no sanctions or punishment when they do.” Steve said stiffly.

“And what about the ones that don’t re-appear?”

“I would rather have to track down a few rouge Inhumans than watch them be killed. My job, my purpose is to protect people. I’ll do that by any means necessary.” He reminded Ross.

“Do I need to remind you that you have not yet earned back the trust and respect you carelessly threw away when you went rouge?” Ross hissed.

“You pardoned us. You really want to take it back? Just because we’re trying to protect the planet?” Natasha cut in.

“If this is all for nothing…” Ross began.

“If this is all for nothing then we know our girl up there has stopped it and you can thank her when she gets back. Maybe just send a muffin basket though, I don’t think she’ll appreciate an in person visit.” Tony said with a disarmingly charming smirk.

“You’ve demanded a Global response team be at the ready and you have broken more protocols and laws than I can count by directly contacting every Inhuman on the index. If and when your ‘girl’ returns I will be paying her an in person visit and I’ll be bringing the full weight of the United Nations with me. We have a lot of questions for her.”

“Well we’ll call you when she gets home. Until then, do we agree that the Inhumans should not suffer for trying to keep themselves alive?” Sam asked.

“Before you answer that, think about what happens if we do have the fend off another attempted invasion. We’ll want the Inhumans fighting with us, we can’t afford to risk alienating them.” Steve warned.

“For now, we agree. But this is not indefinite.” Ross warned before he gave one last hateful glare at them and stormed out.

“Love that guy, it’s always so much fun when he comes to visit.” Tony said sarcastically.

“We only have a couple more days, three at best before people start questioning if there’s really a threat.” Rhodey sighed.

“If no intergalactic army turns up we’ll look like idiots but I’ll take that over having to fight.” Clint said.

“If the army does come, it means she failed.” Steve reminded them, snapping out the words.

It would mean you were dead.

“This would be easier if she would just come and get us, pick us up in her fancy new ride and take us to the fight.” Tony pointed out.

“And she would have done that, if we could have promised mercy for Loki. But we couldn’t so she threw her lot in with him and who can blame her? Who better to fend of an invasion that they guy who already tried once before.” Sam sighed.

“Ross does have a point. We are resting a lot on her word. Not that I don’t trust her but… are we sure we’re making the right moves here?” Natasha asked, looking at Steve.

“I trust her. So we need to be ready. And if this is all masterminded by Loki, don’t forget that we have a way to take him down now. We’re prepared for either option and any number of things in between.” Steve reminded her.

“Thanks to yours truly, and Gandalf the sassy.” Tony chimed in.

“Speaking of, don’t you need to go?” Sam asked.

Steve nodded.

“Strange is expecting us. Wanda’s getting better at getting inside my head.” He said.

“So we’re ready, for whatever comes next. All we can do now is sit around and wait and hope to hell that Kitten knows what she’s doing.” Sam said.

~~~

You were completely lost. Evening had fallen and someone had told you to get to the Arena and then walked away before you realised you had no idea how to get there. You’d followed a group of people with Green bands but managed to lose sight of them when they turned a corner and now you were just stood in a hallway like an imbecile.

“Little One?” Someone called out behind you.

“Gun?” You called back happily, walking quickly towards his familiar frame, pausing in surprise when you saw the green band on his wrist.

“You’re not the only one who’s moved up a colour.” He chortled.

“Congratulations?” You said as you fell into step beside him and let him guide you through the maze of a fortress.

“And to you little one. You fought well.” He praised.

“And yet I still would have lost, if not for you.” You reminded him.

“I think you may have still won, just not as quickly. You’re skilled, though you fight like someone of your size, not like someone of your strength.” He noted.

“Out of the one’s who trained me, one used to be a lot smaller than he is now and one is of a similar size to me.” You explained vaguely.

“No, no it’s good. Didn’t expect you to be that strong when I saw you fight. You keep switching styles as well. It’s hard to get a grasp on you or what you are going to do.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none.” You said quietly.

Gun cocked his head with a quizzical expression.

“It’s a saying in my world. It means it’s alright to be ok at lots of different things than amazing at just one.” You elaborated.

“What a strange saying but, a wise one.”

“Why are you fighting for honours Gun?” You asked, nodding at his band that was marked with the same line of blue yours was.

“I have my reasons.” He said cryptically.

“You don’t approve of the killing and the blood sport, so your reasons, whatever they are, are curious.” You said softly.

“Those who enter the Arena are not under duress. They are bloodthirsty, egotistical murderers. I feel no guilt in killing them.” He said.

“And everyone you kill in the Arena is one less warrior for the army?” You guessed.

He looked nervous and you knew you were right. He hadn’t come here with a plan like you had, but he was here to save his world and do as much damage as he could before he died.

He stopped at a large set of doors and pushed them open, waving you in front of him.

It was another holding area, a large circular room filled with people sharpening weapons and gearing themselves up to fight. There was a dark, ominous looking doorless hole on the opposite wall.

Ra-Thrall, the Kree who had taken notice of you earlier in the day spotted you and immediately made his way over.

“If you’re as skilled as I hope you are, you’ll do well here. Impress us and we’ll put you into the main arena.” He said enthusiastically, ignoring Gun.

You weren’t confused as to why he’d taken such a special interest in you, you’d done something awful to ensure he would. But he was thrumming with excitement and you wondered why he was so invested.

“Do well tonight and you will impress Glahn-Betn himself. I’ve marked you down as someone with potential, prove me right and we’ll both rise in rank.” He said with what he must have thought was a conspiratorial grin.

It made your skin crawl.

“I won’t let you down Sir.” You told him respectfully.

“Clegane is getting a lot of attention down here. I’m going to pit you against him. He’s an Epsiloni.”

Were you supposed to know what an Epsiloni was?

“Kill him and you’re certain to be given an enviable rank.” He instructed.

“Yes, Sir, Understood Sir.” You said.

His head bobbled up and down as he nodded excitedly and scarpered back to his post.

“Gun!” You hissed, tugging his sleeve.

“What’s an Epsiloni?” You asked when he looked at you.

He visibly paled.

“Epsiloni are parasites. They drain the life-force of their victims, becoming stronger and stronger. When I was a child, one landed on my home world. Just one. It took a bomb that destroyed an entire city to kill it.” He explained fearfully.

“Oh.” You gulped.

“I doubt this one is as strong. They’re utterly ruthless and despise all organic life forms. If one is in this army, it isn’t here by choice. If it were strong enough it would have turned on it’s captors by now.” He tried to reassure you.

“Then why are they letting it get stronger?” You asked and Gun shrugged.

It didn’t sound like something you’d want in your army. The stronger it got, the more chance of it turning on you. So it was effectively useless because you wouldn’t be able to use it to it’s full potential.

Unless…

“It’s only here so they can find out who’s strong enough to kill it.” You whispered, horrified.

Which meant that every opponent it had already faced were the strongest and most promising, and they’d all failed. Their strength hadn’t been enough and all that power now belonged to the Epsiloni.

“I don’t suppose you have a bomb on you?” Gun asked, only partially joking.

“Only blades.” You groaned.

You were so screwed.

“Are they impervious to damage?” You asked.

“No, but it takes a lot of it to put them down.” He told you.

“Weak spots?” You asked hopefully.

“None that I know of.” He said, shaking his head.

“How do they drain life-force?” You sighed.

“They leech it through prolonged skin contact.” He answered.

“I need a pair of gloves.” You said, looking down at your bare hands.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He responded, looking around before he slipped away.

Despite his noble intentions for being here, he was acting as an ally to you. As far as he was aware, you were one of the monsters he wanted to destroy and yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to treat you like one. He was a good man, too good.

It wasn’t long before he came back over, subtly slipping a pair of leather gloves into your hand. You pulled them on, noting they weren’t a perfect fit but they would do.

“What did you do?” You sighed, nodding towards the empty sheath on his hip.

There had been a short sword in it a few moments ago.

“Made a trade.” He shrugged.

Aside from Mischief you had an array of daggers on you, and two of them on either side of your hip were longer ones. You unsheathed one and tossed it in the air, shaking your head at Gun and slipping it into his empty sheath. Like the gloves, it wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would do.

“Kit! Come.” Ra-Thrall yelled.

“Good luck little one.” Gun whispered.

“See you on the other side Gun.” You whispered back.

Ra-Thrall was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet he was that excited and he quickly ushered you into the tunnel.

“Don’t die.” He warned.

“I’ll try not to let you down Sir.” You promised.

“If you do as well as I hope, Glahn-Betn will be thrilled with me for spotting you. This could mean big things for me. You as well I suppose.” He muttered.

The tunnel was dark and practically vibrating. If this was anything like the gladiators pits of Ancient Rome then you guessed the crowd was above you. All too soon you came to the end and to a metal grate. Through it you could see a large circular arena surrounded by black stone walls.

“Kit of Clarius.” You heard someone yell from the inside and then the grate was rising.

You stepped onto the sands and took it all in. The blood stains on the sand, the cracks and dried blood on the stone walls, the thousands of spectators and on a podium some 30ft above the crowds…

Glahn-Betn.

It had to be him, there was no doubt about it. He was sat forward in his seat, resting his hulking forearms on his knees as he surveyed you. You both assessed each other from a distance and hatred spewed up inside you. This was the man responsible for the atrocities you had witnessed. All this injustice, pain and death, all of it could be laid at his feet. He had taken this planet and who knows how many others, he had ravaged them and taken anything he might have use for, without care for the devastation he was leaving in his wake. He would lay waste to your planet as well if he had the chance.

You wouldn’t let him have the chance. If it weren’t for the towering , curved stone wall, you would have already drove your blade into his chest and carved him up, even if it meant being slaughtered by the revenue of soldiers behind him.

His dark eyes were pulling you in and you break away from his gaze if you wanted to. He’d bespelled you and you could feel the rage and loathing growing inside you until your body just felt to small to contain it. Your rage felt like a living breathing entity inside you, moving under your skin.

Then he looked away, turning to say something to one of his companions and the spell was broken. The world swam back into focus and you wandered when you’d stopped hearing and seeing everything around you as the noises from the crowd drew your attention.

Apparently, they weren’t impressed with you.

“It’s a child.” Someone tittered and there was amused chuckles of agreement.

“1000 Lye on the child.” Someone announced confidentially, loudly.

“I’ll take your bet.” Someone roared back gleefully, but you ignored that one.

At the announcement you had looked up into the crowd, immediately spotting who had bet on you. The woman stood behind the stone barrier, gazing back at you. Her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders as she flipped it back and turned to her betting opponent and you knew who she was straight away. It would take more than blue skin and red eyes for you not to recognise Loki. You’d know that twinkle of mischief in her eyes anywhere.

When she looked at you again you winked at her, tapping your staff subtly and turning back to the arena as Clegane was announced and the grate on the other side of the sands ascended.

Clegane had the basic shape of a human but that’s where the comparison ended. He was pink and hairless, wearing nothing except a sleeveless one-piece jumpsuit that ended at the knees and showcased his long, flat, toeless feet. And when he snarled maliciously at you, you got an eyeful of the long sharp fangs.

Judging by the fact that your adversary’s kept being dentally blessed, the universe was really working overtime in an attempt to get you bitten.

He didn't even wait for anyone to tell him to begin, as soon as he stepped through gates he was rushing for you, his feet barely touched the sands and he leapt nimbly across them. You barely had enough time to lean back, away from his grasp.

His fingers had been millimetres away from you and you were literally bent over backwards to get away from him, so when his legs kicked yours out from under you, you flopped onto the ground uselessly.

It was only hours of sparring with Bucky ‘I’m gonna knock you on your ass’ Barnes that allowed you to use the momentum from your fall to roll onto your front and rise to your knees.

You reached back with one hand, grasping for Mischief while your other arm was busy grabbing onto Clegane’s left wrist to hold him back. His right hand slammed into the side of your face with inhuman strength and the second his skin made contact with yours you went from adrenaline fuelled, blood pumping battle ready to feeling like you were about to faint.

You managed to unsheathe Mischief and get the blade out, sliding it between his ribs. You felt the blade go in, you could feel the blood spurting from the wound and covering your gloved hand, dripping under your sleeve.

Clegane didn’t seem to notice or care, he just kept leeching the life out of you.

You let go of your beloved weapon, dropping it on the ground and grabbed both of his arms and pulled him into you as hard as you could, smashing your head into his face. You heard the sickening crunch of bone as you crushed his nose and felt the sharp sting as his fangs shredded through your flesh but it had been enough to knock his hand away from your face.

You’d never moved so fast in your life as you scrambled away from him, your severely depleted energy making you stumble into the wall. You held yourself upright and straight away, you felt your energy start to come back.

It was like any other injury, you could heal it. And because there was no physical wound, you could heal it fast. The crowd didn’t seem to be aware of that yet because you could hear the mocking laughter and them calling out for Clegane to finish you. Pushing away from the wall you turned around to face him again, standing tall.

He paused in confusion and you could feel the palpable curiosity coming from the crowd as you wiped the blood from your face and smirked. When they realized there was no wound they started cheering for you and Clegane sneered.

You ran at him, unsheathing a long dagger from your hip and throwing it ahead of you. It embedded itself into his chest and he ignored it like it was little more than a buzzing insect landing on him.

You knew that stabbing him would have no effect, that wasn’t why you had done it. You used it as a foothold as you leapt at him, planting your knee into his throat and wrapping your other leg around the back of his neck and used every ounce of your super strength to twist your body around while you squeezed his neck between your legs. His neck snapped in your hold and you pushed away from him, flipping in mid-air and landing upright on the ground behind him.

You executed it perfectly. Natasha would have been so fucking proud.

If it had done a damn thing.

He just half turned around and backhanded you, sending you reeling backwards so you crouched on one knee and slammed your open fist into his sternum, sending him reeling back this time. He curled his fist and swung at your head but you caught it in your hand and held it, blocking his other fist with your forearm. Your muscles trembled with the effort of holding him back, he was that strong.

Maybe you really did need a bomb to win this one.

Or maybe you needed to lose this one. If he was this strong already, how much stronger would he be if he drained your life-force? For a second, you really considered it. You knew you were willing to die for this cause, this was your chance to prove it. Clegane would slaughter the Kree if he had the chance, you could give him that chance. All you had to do was die. All you had to do was give up your life and with it, any chance of seeing Steve again, any chance of begging his forgiveness. All you had to do was give up Loki.

You looked up into the crowd, your eyes searching for the one person in the universe you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt you wanted to spend your life with.

And then you let go, you let Clegane slam you into the sands.

The second your back hit the dirt Clegane was leaning over you and stabbed the sword firmly into the sand, through the palm of your hand. You grit your teeth to contain the grunt of pain as his hand grasped painfully at your jaw, squeezing as he absorbed your lifeforce. As the seconds ticked by you blocked out the sound of the crowds, concentrating only on two things.

The feeling of your life-force leaving you, making you weaker and weaker. And slowly pushing your hand up, wrapping your fingers around the blade and ignoring the bite as it shredded your flesh. You pulled it from the ground and you managed to free it from your hand. With all the strength you had left you grasped the hilt and swung it.

Abruptly, your life-force started returning to you and Clegane’s arm fell uselessly aside, no longer attached to his body. His shock gave you a chance to push him away from you and you shakily pulled yourself to your feet as he stumbled back. He looked dumbly down at the stump where his arm used to be and the blood that was gushing from it. He was surprised but he wasn’t weakened and moving quickly you raced towards him, dropping to your knees and sliding across the sand with the long dagger held out to the side.

As you slid past him you heard his yell of frustration as the blade sliced through the muscle and bone of his leg and you were sprayed with blood as you lopped off yet another limb. You glanced over your shoulder to see him trying to maintain his balance and satisfied, you dropped the dagger onto the ground and stood up.

You calmly walked over to Mischief, like you had all the time in the world and kicked it into the air and catching it before you made your way back over to a seething Clegane. You turned your back on him and looked at the crowds, focusing only on Loki who was looking back at you with pride. Sliding your thumb upwards you released the blade and holding Mischief out in front of you, you spun around.

The blade sliced through Clegane’s neck like butter, the cartilage and muscle providing no challenge for your trusted weapon.

And as his head fell to the sand and rolled away, the seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity.

You had done it, you had won. And if you were really as unselfish and heroic as you said you were, you would have let him drain your strength and use it to destroy the army. But he was dead and you were the victor and as what was left of his body hit the sand the crowd surged to their feet and time started moving again.

You raised Mischief into the air and pointed the tip of the blade at Glahn-Betn. It could be seen as a mark of respect, you honouring the General you wanted to fight for.

But it was a silent vow, that he would suffer the same fate as Clegane and everyone else you had to kill to get to him.

He grinned ferally and pushed himself to his feet, roaring.

“You say she is a mere child, but this child is a warrior! Feast your eyes on our new champion!” He yelled.

The crowd was screaming and clapping and stamping their feet and you could feel the beat of your heart thumping in time with it all. It was savage and primal and under all your rage and fear and shame you were terrified to realize you had never felt more alive.

The cheered for you, cheered for ‘the warrior child’, their champion, until someone screamed something and one by one they all picked up on it, gradually building in pace and tone until as one they were all chanting it.

War child.

It took on a life of it’s own, their frenzy increasing until the words blended together and your heart was beating too quickly in your chest. Glahn-Betn raised his hands and an immediate hush fell over the crowd.

In all your time with the Avengers you had yet to receive a superhero moniker. Here, on an alien world with the blood of your victim still drying on your blade, your enemy stared down at you and bestowed your new name on you.

“WarChylde!” He roared.

A/N - Oooft, it was so painful to write a lot of these scenes.

Hopefully it wasn't as painful to read them or you'll have hated this chapter.

MMYM Taglist (Open) @woohoney @vikkleinpaul @veralaska25 @elvira212007 @libbymouse @nobody0660 @marceylina @a-smokeless-flame @dark-night-sky-99 @ikneelbeforemygod @lokislilslut @p3ryt0n @twhgirl @unicorniorosacomefruitillas @czygrlm @buckysblondie @brazen88brat @riverdaleserpent04 @criedwolfwritings @sleepingspacedragon @bxckybxrnxs @elvira212007 @hryedwrdstles @tell-me-a-poem @carostar2020 @timetraveler1978 @lowkyvoid @lilith15000 @aurorawitchcraft @iamverity @khioneholmes @olyamoriarty @cutie1365 @humbledarkness @boowoomuu @damnsmutbroh @lelliefant @gravedollie666 @aquaastrid @dreamsfromanemptyteacup @jn-wolf @constant00 @littleredstarfish @jana-jaeynneee @termaks @myoxisbroken @themusingsofmany @shirukitsune @cyberpastalightbiscuit @firstyear-ravenclaw @infallible-thoughts @daddyloki @daisyboo11 @call-me-ziphon @stuckybanner @absolutecraziness13 @suddenlydaggers @malikwilly @butterflyoftheearth @toothpaste-bandit @wolfsmom1 @lisaspageofstuff @nanibon @brat-in-a-teacup @severepienerdturkey @buckysknifecollection @vibrant-berry @absolutecraziness13 @bitchtrynafck @300nightmare003 @missmollya @newperspective

PERMA TAG LIST (Closed) @likes-to-smell-books @thelostallycat @dilaila95 @dropthepizza346 @destiel-artemis @hiddles-rose @myfandomlife-blog @thosesexytexasboys @liveonce-sodoitright @spnrvt @tarastudiesalot @dahkness @sexyvixen7 @jaynnanadrews @littledeadrottinghood @pinkisokay @angieptt @anamcg317 @belladonnarey @queen-kayy92 @breezy1415 @penumbrawolfy @fairislesheets @lianadelphius @coolmassivenerd @youhavebeenspared @candyxcyanide @musingpredilection @isaxhorror @destiel-artemis @my-drowning-in-time @isabelcrichards @teh-nerdette @dlcita @deathofmissjackson @life-wanderer @cleo0107 @spicymagz @drdorkus @inquisitor-selvala @le-mow @zeannastardust @nighmxre @blue-cat-1989 @writingforbucky @abo4280ooof @mad4oak @jsmith509 @aven-gers33 @helloimanavenger @brownlee-22 @amoonagedaydreamer @barnesb1tch @scarletraine @cowardlycandy @secondsineternity @mywinterwolf @luminous-lillies @stressedandbandobessed7771 @jamesbucktitybarnes @thirstofgames @boxofteenageideas @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af @cdwmtjb8 @happybookmuffin

#loki x reader #loki #Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #God of Mischief #Hattersmarvelverse #The Avengers #The Avengers x Reader #Avengers #Avengers x Reader

852 notes · View notes

alien-shark · 4 years

Text

ZoTash prompt/one-shot: JEALOUSY

Echoes of what appears to be sparring shouts reverberate from the training grounds and soon, a surge of female Marine soldiers flood the halls. What used to be a serene area was now abuzz with gleeful exuberant cheers, their attention aimed at the other five female soldiers surrounding a lone shirtless green haired man at the centre of the training ground. Shinai swords drawn and pointed at their single adversary.

Tashigi, curious at the commotion, followed along the queue of female soldiers lining the perimeter of the ground, “What’s going on?” she asked, sipping at her coffee.

“He’s doing it. He’s sparring with them again!” A female soldier beamed, her eyes glued at the subject of interest.

Standing on her tiptoes, the Marine captain watch as the female soldiers consecutively charge at the man. But with a quick side step, parry, deflect and strikes on the shoulder, behind the knee and hip, each soldiers were disarmed and collapse on the dirt, one after another.

The spectators cheered and some groaned on behalf of their fallen comrades. On refusing to yield, one soldier latched on a nearby shinai and swiped at the man’s leg only for the weapon to shatter upon impact with his own.

“Too slow.” He sighed, disappointed. Spinning his head around, “You are all too slow.”

A wave of excited whispers, some of obscenities, rippled through the crowd.

“Your grasp on your swords are too flimsy! Even a kid can disarm you.” He pauses and releases yet another disgruntled sigh. “And you’re leaving too much opening! Do you have a death wish?! If I used real swords, you’d all be dead!” He turned to a soldier on the ground and offered his hand, she accepts reluctantly but hauls herself up with his help.

“The battle isn’t over until you’re dead.” He growled. “Till then, get your ass up and try again!”

Roronoa Zoro returned in the middle of the field, two bamboo swords drawn on his sides. His eyes scan the crowd, “Who’s up next?”

Female Marines race and scrambled to try their luck at him, beaming and professing determined shouts.

---

Captain Tashigi narrows her eyes, irritated that her fellow Marine soldiers- especially ones under Vice Admiral Tsuru’s squadron- are so easily swayed by Roronoa’s simple display of swordsmanship. But her resentment only doubled upon realizing that while she goes and makes herself a cup of coffee to begin the day, the man was already in the heat of his training.

While Roronoa trains the female Marines; observing them with a critical eye as they do drills and correct any mistakes and praise any improvements as they spar with one another, Tashigi decides to train with other soldiers who remained wary of the pirate. But it wasn’t long until Tashigi found herself training alone in their usual spot. She discovered her fellow officers figured Roronoa’s teachings yield very effective results.

And so she was alone, much to her disappointment.

Dinner proved tougher to endure when all she hears are praises aimed at Roronoa, how his outlandish teachings opened up new possibilities in their training immensely enhancing their skills.

“He’s truly a great swordsman! Glad he’s an ally now!” A soldier announced cheerfully.

“And he’s surprisingly such a decent guy too!”

“Right?! And he’s gentle and kind!”

“Have you seen that body?”

They giggle. Tashigi stands to leave.

A tremendous divide among the Marines occurred when the highly influential Vice Admirals finally roused and saw the errors of the entire Marines’ belief. It began with Smoker’s G-5 unit followed by Vice Admiral Garp, Vice Admiral Sengoku and most recently, Vice Admiral Tsuru.

Tashigi started as a grunt in Tsuru’s squad. Her skills earned her respect and praise among her superiors and popularity among the entire female Marine soldiers. Her rapid growth caused her to be transferred under Smoker’s wing in Loguetown. Yet to this day, she would return and spend some time with her previous crew. She considered this her place of solitude, a break from her testosterone infested infantry. It was a breath of fresh air to be around fellow female soldiers and they were always glad to have her back even for a short period.

However, the Marine/Pirate integration has altered her previous comrades regard towards her. (Roronoa and three of his nakamas: Nico Robin, The God-Usopp and The Soul King, temporarily stays on the island under Tsuru’s watch for Nico Robin to decipher a poneglyph. Which explains why and how the pirate is within their vicinity.) Now, the female soldiers’ attention has long abandoned Tashigi and are directed at Roronoa, much like the G-5.

“Give it to him! I bet he’ll love it!” A soldier nudged her companion.

“I hope so. He did say he loves quality sake.”

“Haha! He’ll fall head over heels for you!”

“W-what?! No.. I just wish to thank him..!” The other soldier blushed.

Soon, things took a sudden turn. An ample amount of female soldiers developed a budding infatuation towards the man. Tashigi couldn’t contain her hackles from rising when one evening, during a bonfire, another soldier gifted Roronoa sake. He drank and celebrated with them for yet another productive day. As Tashigi observes the exchange, she notices Roronoa smile almost slyly towards the gushing female Marines. Her suspicions towards the man intensifies. He was still a pirate after all. Tashigi witnessed the vulgar glances Black Leg and The Soul King displays when around women. Who’s to say Roronoa is different? She knows nothing about the man.

That very night, she confronted him. When finally he was alone, walking groggily through the empty streets, she blocked his path.

“Roronoa, a word, please.” She gestured to an empty alley.

“If you need private lessons, you’re gonna have to wait for two days.” He smiles. “I’m a busy man. Tonight’s not a good ti—”

“I know what game you’re playing, pirate!” Tashigi interjects. “You may blind the others with your swordplay but not me.”

Immediately, the pirate’s drunken stupor evaporated and he stares unblinking. But Tashigi refused to falter.

“If you’re training them just to create your little ‘fan-club’ or to invite them in your bed, I will not ask you again, please stop. These are prominent honourable women and some are already developing feelings-- bonds to you deeper than they intended. Feelings I doubt a pirate such as you even have. Whatever dark intentions you have planned, abandon it if you still wish to see the light of day.” She stepped closer and jabbed a finger on his chest. “Respect these women or I will make you.”

Roronoa stares at the finger on his chest and slowly creeps his gaze towards the woman.

“I always wondered why you never attend the training. I thought it was just your stubborn pride that makes you lurk behind the trees, watching from a distance.”

For the first time, Tashigi hesitates and draws her hand back.

“So this is how you still see me.” He narrows his eyes at her, as realization hits. “I trained your soldiers because they asked me to. I won’t apologize for my actions. I am not responsible for the feelings your soldiers harbour towards me neither will I apologize for how you interpret my actions towards them. That’s on you. I’ve never disrespected your soldiers in any way and I never intend to. I only wish to help… because-”

He takes a deep breath. “This may be empty words to you but… I feel obliged- I had a friend—,” Roronoa paused, dropping his gaze to the ground.

His voice suddenly grows quieter, jittery. “I wanted to prove to her… wherever she is I—I want to prove that women can be strong and capable of so much more. At first I didn’t believe it was possible.” He meets her eyes, his own glassy under the moonlight.

“Then you came along and changed my mind. How you handle yourself and radiate that irritating confidence and headstrong determination that affects the people around you. You made me realize that women are capable of so much more. And I want to help even in the smallest way. I want to prove to her that she was wrong for thinking so little of herself because of her gender.”

Roronoa hardens his gaze and almost doubles in size as he straightens himself, towering over the Marine captain. “But she’s dead. And she will never know. And I guess it’s too late for it now. And the person who opened up my mind to the possibilities and gave me hope continues to view me as a petty low-life. And whatever ounce of help I provided in the end didn’t matter.”

The man shakes his head and before stepping around her says, “What do I know? Pirates don’t have feelings, right?”

That night, Tashigi couldn’t sleep. Roronoa’s words cut her deeper than any wound inflicted in battle. How petty and shallow of her to view Roronoa in this light.

His late friend… Of course. How could she forget? When will she ever see beyond herself? She was insecure, blinded by her weakness. Jealousy remains to be her biggest vice, the wall that prevents her from moving forward- the gap between their abilities. She was right about one thing however, she knows nothing about the man.

The following days, Roronoa stopped showing up at the training grounds and began training somewhere else, alone, and refused to train and spar with the female soldiers, however he allowed them to watch.

“Could we have been too much for him?” A soldier during lunch muttered weakly.

“Maybe our progress was too slow he got impatient.”

“Ugh. I shouldn’t have pushed him to try our family’s sake.”

“Face it, ladies. The man didn’t see anything special and probably got bored.” Another stirred at her lunch dully. “He’s still a pirate. Open your legs at him and he might—”

“He’s not like that!” Tashigi snapped. All eyes on her. Upon realizing her outburst has generated attention she wasn’t used to, she trembled and cast her eyes down. “Roronoa is… a lot of things. But he’s not like that.”

She quickly dislodge herself from the predicament. She needed to find the man- for the sake of the Marines. But more importantly give him the apology he deserved. She cannot allow her frivolous mistake sever the unity between Marines and pirates. Tashigi could not locate him that evening so she woke up early the next day and luckily found him in his new training spot, surrounded by female soldiers urging him for a spar.

Tashigi apprehensively stepped closer into his area. A twitch of his eye suggest he’s aware of her presence.

“Roronoa, please… please train them again.” She whispers and hopes he hears amidst his grunts and loud thrusts of his sword.

“They can train themselves.” He grunts.

“They can.” She swipes a quick glance at the inquisitive soldiers. “But they prefer your guidance. They enjoy your company.”

“They’ve trained without my supervision long before I arrived in the island. They don’t need me.”

“Roronoa, please-“

“No.”

Before her tears threaten to spill, Tashigi knelt down and pressed her forehead on the ground and bowed deeply before the man.

“I apologize for every malicious words I insinuated. You didn’t deserve the accusations. I was wrong. It was unjust- I was,” She bit her lip and forced the trembling words out, “— ignorant. I figured my misplaced vigilance for my fellow Marines only causes harm than good. And I realize my accusations reflected more about my insecurities than of your character.”

The thrusting of sword stopped and louder whispers emanate from the growing onlookers.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I only wish for you to know how deeply I regret my misdemeanour.” She sobbed. “Please do not punish them because of the lapses in my judgement. Roronoa… Roronoa-san, it would be an honour to gain your insights.”

Tashigi took a deep breath and lifted her head slightly, “Please train them—train us!!”

“Tashigi-san…” Echoes of her name ran through the crowd but she refused to lift her head.

A surge of delight rushed through the swordsman’s chest and instantly felt an entire lightness of being, as if the overbearing weight he’s been carrying the last couple of days was lifted off his chest and he was engulfed with unexpected satisfaction. A single apology from the woman would have suffice, but this almost evaporated every affliction he’d ever experience. Had this happen months ago, he would have a quip to counter, instead he clears his throat,

“Then what are you waiting for? Grab your shinai. We’re losing daylight!”

Tashigi finally raised her head, face coated in watery dirt but she didn’t care. Altogether, the entire female Marine squadron exclaimed, “Haiii!!”.

----

Apologies for going over the word count! I hope this was worth your time!

#zotashprompts #ZoTash #tashigi #roronoa zoro #writing prompt #one shot

33 notes · View notes

missbrightsky · 4 years

Text

On My Honor

Fics Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 10: Feyre

“Farther,” Captain Knight commanded. I struggled to obey, pulling my strained arm back even more, taking a slow, steadying breath to line up the target.

“Release.”

I let the arrow fly, straight and true. It thunked on the distant target, just a hair shy of a bullseye.

“Good,” he praised, clapping me on the shoulder. I gave Captain Knight a small nod before rolling my shoulder. The past week and a half of training had been hard on my body. Hard on everyone beneath Tamlin’s command. Every day we woke up at dawn for that dreaded five-mile run and every night I fell into my bedroll, too exhausted to worry about anyone discovering I was a woman.

But, every day that five-mile run was a little bit easier and every day I relaxed a little more as no one looked too closely at my woman’s face masquerading as a boyish one. Alex and I had continued to bond with each other in this first ring of hell along with the others. Morning, noon and night, we ate, trained and bitched with and about each other and Tamlin (or Lieutenant Tool as some of us had started calling him when he wasn’t around). We knew what waited for us at the front, but the thoughts were eased by comradery.

It has now been just over two weeks since I left home, two weeks since I cut my hair and changed my name and left my family. Left my sisters behind to save my father from a bloody death. To trade his life with my own.

I returned to the small group behind me. Cassian’s hand-picked archers from the recruits. For what purpose, he hasn’t told us yet, but every day after lunch we got excused from our lieutenants’ trainings to work with him.

How I got here? I’m not really sure.

After formation on that first day, Captain Knight asked the lieutenants to send all recruits that had a decent aim to him. Judging by the look Tamlin’s face, he didn’t like Cassian or his order very much but sent me and Adam along with about thirty others from the other lieutenants.

He had us shooting arrows for almost two hours, walking back and forth with a critical eye.

The sweating and trembling I did that afternoon had little to do with the heat or that morning’s exertion. A man like Cassian didn’t get to where he was by not noticing the tiniest of details. I should have been executed on the spot by the firing squad he had assembled.

Instead, I had been picked to be in the group of archers that he now trains every day.

Had I been a smarter woman, I would have failed the test and gone back to basic training, no more worries about Cassian figuring out that she didn’t belong here. But something in my chest tugged me forward, tugged me to pull back that string a little more, to aim a little more carefully before letting the arrow fly.

So here I was, getting instruction and praise from one of the most well-known captains in Prythian.

Adam finished his turn taking aim, returning to my side. He still didn’t say much, but we got along fine. Tamlin wasn’t too happy that every afternoon, he lost two soldiers to Cassian, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Cassian paced up and down in front of us, examining the targets that now bristled with arrows before facing us again. “Good job men,” I held back my wince at the m-word, “You have made steady progress in archery. I’m sure you all have been wondering why I assembled this group.” Murmurs broke out, confirming that we were indeed curious about why the captain had chosen us. Cassian waited for them to stop, “I can’t tell you much right now, but when we get to the front, I will be handing out special assignments when necessary.”

My heart picked up into a stuttering race. Not only had I managed to get myself personal instruction from a decorated captain, but now I would be going on special assignments. Certainly, the gods were looking down on me and laughing.

“That’s all for today, go find your lieutenants.”

We dispersed, Adam and I weaving a path back to where our group would be. We were nearing the entrance to the camp when thundering hooves filled the air. Two men and a woman rode in, barely checking their pace as they passed the front row of tents.

Adam and I edged out of the way, curious as to whom would ride in so recklessly but also not wanting to get trampled. I eyed the trio from the corner of my eye, trying not to look too interested. Both men were broad-shouldered and clothed in black. One in more formal clothing while the other looked like armor. The woman had golden hair tied back in a braid that had started to come apart. With a start, I realized that she was not wearing a dress, but instead had on a billowy pair of pants, highly uncommon for current styles. It appeared this woman didn’t care what others thought of her.

“Rhys! Az! Mor!” a familiar voice shouted behind me, Cassian’s. Holy gods… General Rhysand Knight. Captain Azriel Knight. The famed healer, Morrigan Solis.

“We weren’t expecting you for another two days!” Cassian continued while I had a minor aneurysm about who just came to our camp. Adam and I continued to slowly edge away, our curiosity piqued.

“We rode like hell just because we missed your face so much,” the black-haired one, Rhysand, if the stories were right, teased. So casual for those who lead the army.

“Awww, you flatter me,” the brothers clapped arms and Cas embraced Morrigan. “I believe you promised me a sparring match,” Rhysand said, looking around for someone. He spotted Adam and I, giving us a small nod of acknowledgment. Against my will, I blushed and ducked my head, hoping that the general took it as a sign of respect from a nervous recruit being recognized by a higher-up and not of a young lady getting attention from a handsome soldier. Because he was handsome. And dangerous. No one else in the camp seemed to have noticed that not everything was what it seemed but certainly the general, or his fucking spymaster, would take notice.

I fully turned away at this point, making haste back to our training area. Adam shot me a confused look but followed without question.

“Archeron! Haywood!” Shit shit shit shit. We turned, snapping to attention at the command in Cassian’s voice. As the group neared, I tried to keep my eyes from the general, but they were determined to betray me. The closer he got, I was able to pick out more of his features, each more attractive than the last. High cheekbones and full lips that were a gift from the Cauldron. Deep, blue eyes that bordered on violet assessed us, them lingering on me for longer. Fuuuuuck.

“General Knight is in the sparring mood, what are the chances that your lieutenant would oblige him?”

Fear made me a fool, causing me to blurt out, “Low, sir, if he hasn’t eaten recently.” I’m so fucked.

Cassian barked out a loud laugh, followed by Rhysand and cackling from Morrigan. Azriel only cracked a small smile, but rumor had it that very few could accomplish even that. Lucky me.

Rhysand was the one to respond to me, “Perfect, lead the way soldier.” He gestured to go on. Gods, even his voice is beautiful, smooth and deep.

GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, I mentally yelled at myself. I was here to fight in a war, not faun over handsome generals.

I turned on my heel, cursing my big mouth and small brain. I prayed to the gods that this would be the first, and last, interaction with them.

The walk to the training area was mercifully short, where Tamlin had paired off the recruits for hand-to-hand drills. And true to my prediction, he looked grumpier than ever, his frown turning to a downright scowl at the sights of our group.

“Soldiers, salute!” Tamlin called out, all of the men stopping to turn to the general.

“At ease,” Rhysand said, him zeroing in on Tamlin. Something like amusement flickered in his face, quickly wiped away the calm mask of a general. “Lieutenant Verdant, how goes training?”

Tamlin had schooled his face into a careful expression of neutrality, “Good, General Knight.” No extra words, no hint of deference. Had I known any better, I would say that Tamlin bordered on insubordination.

Rhysand scanned the crowd, nodding to himself. “I saw that you were working on hand-to-hand combat, how about we give your soldiers a little demonstration.”

Tamlin hesitated, something we had never seen from him. General Knight was the leader of this army, but Tamlin trained on a daily basis. The other soldiers tried not to look too interested in his reaction, most probably silently hoping to see their torturer suffer a little. “We’re almost done for the day…” he trailed off. An outright lie, I knew we had at least another two hours of training. When he saw the combined look of Cassian and Rhysand, he yielded.

Without instruction, me and the other recruits cleared out, allowing for a wide ring to take shape. I ended up facing away from Rhysand where he turned to say a few words to the others, causing them to stifle laughs. A few moments later, he walked into the ring.

Without a shirt on.

I forced my eyes forward, demanding that this time they not wander over the curves and lines of muscles that were practically an artwork.

I was close enough to Tamlin to hear him mutter, “I’ll spar with you, pretty boy, and I’ll do it with my shirt on.”

I bit my lip to stop the laugh that threatened to bubble out of me. I didn’t feel up to the extra miles Tamlin would make me run if he heard me.

He strode into the ring, taking up a defensive stance.

“My money’s on the general,” Alex whispered in my ear. I had been so distracted by the general, that I hadn’t even noticed him standing beside me. I only shot a warning glace Alex’s way, but he had already turned back to the two men now circling each other.

For the past week, we had seen, and experienced, Tamlin’s moves. Despite being a swaggering prick, he clearly had the skills for the rank he earned.

The two men started to circle each other, each moving with their own fluidity. Rhysand angled his head, beckoning for Tamlin to make the first move. He obliged, exploding forward with a swiftness that we had yet to see.

Too fast for our untrained eyes to follow, a flurry of moves occurred before the men jumped back again.

Cassian let out a howl of laugher, “Are you a bit rusty, Tamlin? Don’t tell me the recruits have dulled down your edges.” Tamlin clenched his jaw, wincing with the movement. It seemed that Rhysand had managed to land some blows.

Rhysand’s back was to me, I was unable to see his response, but his body remained fluid and relaxed, almost as if he was teasing Tamlin.

This time, I knew what speed to expect the attacks and was able to follow along better this time. Rhysand took the offense this time, leaping forward with a sweep of the leg. Tamlin saw the move as it came for him, causing him to shift back to avoid the leg. Rhysand, however, expected this of him and used the momentum to punch his opposite arm forward to where Tamlin now exposed his shoulder. The impact of flesh on flesh was clear, followed by a solid oof from Tamlin. He didn’t let the blow stop him, instead, taking it in stride and countering with an elbow of his own.

Back and forth, the two traded blows. The soldiers on the sidelines slowly started reacting to the fight. Cheers and exclamations rang out in the clearing, garnering interest from other soldiers who were passing by. Soon, the ring was six rows deep of men shouting bets and suggestions. Loudest of all was Cassian, egging on the two.

Sweat poured off the fighters, throwing off refractions of lights from their twisting bodies. I was completely enamored with how they moved, trying, and failing, to focus more on the moves than the muscles.

Almost ten minutes later, the fight ended with Rhysand getting past Tamlin’s blocks to throw him to the ground and trap him with a knee to the back.

Cheers exploded through the crowd.

We knew that training would be even more hellish as Tamlin nursed his wounded ego for the next several days, but it was so, so worth it to see him with his face in the dirt.

Rhysand only pinned Tamlin for a second before removing his knee, offering him a hand up. The lieutenant looked more inclined to spit on it instead, but took it nonetheless, letting it go as soon as possible.

I stiffened as Rhys started to walk towards me, causing me to shift my face down and away from his violet gaze, now bright with adrenaline. Morrigan’s voice rang out behind me, revealing his cause to come in my direction. The crowd parted to let the victorious general through, some going as far to clap him on the back or shout their congratulations.

His body passed close enough to mine that the tang of sweat and his heat filled the air. A glance out of the corner of my eye was all that I allowed myself, only to find that his own gaze briefly settled on me before he moved on.

This time, I couldn’t even fool myself that the red on my face was from anything but flustered attraction. I knew that I would need to avoid the general like the plague while he was in the camp.

Alex had turned to me by this time, chattering and exclaiming at the moves Rhysand had used. I nodded along the best I could, barely offering my own words on the matter, my mind was still far too distracted by the victor.

Once the general and his group were far out of earshot, Tamlin barked, “Pair up, we’re running drills ‘til sunset.” With the ire radiating off out him, none of us dared groaned at his order, knowing that it would earn us a one-way ticket to the ground, courtesy of the lieutenant himself.

Next Chapter

#acotar #mulan #feyre #feyre x rhysand #rhysand #sarah j maas #SJM

4 notes · View notes

geeky-introvert · 5 years

Text

Abandon Your God . Ubbe X Male OC

Summary: Peter was a Duke’s son and when King Aethelwulf called for help against the Viking’s his father leads his armies against them, only to be defeated and Peter ended up as their prisoner. He wondered what fated awaited him and there was no escape from the alluring eyes from the eldest brother, Ubbe, staring at him like a predator, and it thrilled him in ways he couldn’t express. One-shot.

Word count: 4001

Warning: Smut, oral, anal stuff. Two guys going at it pretty much.

Tag List: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @lupy22@rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics @aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia @inforapound@captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

He was the Dukes only son and child though there was no love between father and son, even too embarrassed to call him his son. Since the day he was born, the day his mother died, his father had hated him for killing his wife and for what he was ever since discovering what his own blood had done under the eyes of god.

Peter was different, and it was because he was different was the cause of much heart ache in his life. All he was ever told was it was a sin for two men or two women to desire each other not that it made him any better or heal anything and it only brought more humiliation to listen to the words reputedly by the bishops throughout his life.

His father even had a woman from a brothel to engage with his son. Peter did try but he just wasn’t able to perform with the woman. She was annoyed but after some convincing she agreed to pretend something happened to satisfy his father.

It worked, for a while, than Peter went ahead and ruined it. It happened as he was starting to become a man. For months he had been sneaking behind the stables meeting with a peasant boy. They had been friends for a while and quickly fallen for each other. They knew the risk and understood their souls might be prevented from reaching eternal life but they didn’t care about that. All that mattered was them and they had even talked about running away together. Peter didn’t want to be Duke and had no interest in having that responsibility. All he wanted was to be free.

That never happened.

They were caught by a guard and brought to his father who was beyond furious. Peter was flogged which left scars all along his back, to carry that punishment until his last breath. The peasant boy he grew to like, maybe love, was hanged. Nothing was ever the same since.

For the following years he was drowned by the bishop in the holy water to cleanse him of his sins and beg the lord for forgiveness. He was forced to pray and plea to god to forgive him and he did, every day and night. It changed nothing. He was still who he was and no matter how much he prayed, god wasn’t listening to him. He had accepted that he was abandoned long ago.

Six years had passed since that very day.

The Duke was called by King Aethelwulf to form an alliance and join forces against the heathens that invaded York. He led his men, including Peter, towards where they were to meet and form a plan of attack. Not even half way they had been ambushed. The Duke being outnumbered and unprepared they never stood a chance. They were slaughtered without mercy, all expect for Peter. He had tried defending himself but failed against the brute man against him as his sword was knocked from his hands and kicked in the chest sending him falling back against the ground with a pained grunt. When he opened his eyes he saw a young man covered in blood sitting in a red chariot with the devils smile raining down on him. Harsh words were shouted, more like orders, and before he knew it he was their prisoner.

He was brought to York, what had been renamed as Jorvik by the heathen’s. The man from the chariot was Ivar, leader of the heathen army, and Peter found himself sitting at a large table right before Ivar along with his brothers, Hvitserk and Ubbe.

“You must be thirsty,” Ivar spoke in his language grinning like a mad man. “Please, help yourself.”

Peter was tired, filthy, with only a few bruises and cuts from his short weak battle. He hated himself for not trying hard enough and knew his father would be frowning down on with disgusted shame. He was surrounded by his enemies and it surprised him that they had kept him alive while offering their hospitalises. It had to be a trick. Soon his thirst had won over and took a swing from the horn earning a pleased wide grin from Ivar.

“You were the Dukes son, am I right?” Looking up from the table Peter felt the lingering stares from them with their mocking smiles and piercing blue eyes burning into which made him uncomfortable. From what he saw he didn’t think the other two brothers understood what they were saying. He hated to admit it but he was afraid.

“I was,” no emotion was spilled from him and Ivar took notice of it.

“Not a good father to you? Well, it doesn’t matter now does it?” He snickered highly amused. “Now you are Duke and having you as our guest is a great advantage for us. I want more control over these lands and if you surrender your lands over to me, we won’t harm you, and your people will be spared.” There was something in his last words that made Peter not believe it, a false promise is what it was. His answer was what none of them expected.

“Fine, I surrender the lands to you.”

Ivar surely looked stunned before barking out in laughter and repeating to his brothers in their own tongue. They looked even more surprised, even Hvitserk tipped his head back in laughter. Ubbe only furrowed his brows like he didn’t understand what he meant.

“That was easy.” Ivar said after he stopped laughing. “Why give up your lands, your title, and your people, so willingly to us?”

“I have no interest in any of that,” Peter only shrugged but it wasn’t convincing enough.

“There is more to it, am I right?”

“They are my own reasons.” He wouldn’t speak of his reasons to the heathen. “All I ask is to be allowed to leave willingly and I’ll disappear, I won’t be a bother to you.”

“Or I could just have you give us authority over your lands and kill you?” Ivar had a dagger sticking into the table and gleaming at Peter from his end. It seemed that was his original plan from the start.

Ubbe had spoken up, interrupting them and speaking in their language. He kept directing his head at Peter who made him aware they were talking about him, but he was confused what about him they were discussing. Hvitserk let out a dopey giggle listening to his brother’s words as Ivar couldn’t hold back a grin, entertained by what he was saying. Ivar replied with an amused roll from his eyes only for Ubbe to smirk with a shrug. He rolled the inside of his cheek with his tongue in thought and looked back over at Peter, a spark lingering in his cold eyes.

“It is rather late now. We’ll discuss this further in morning. My guards will escort you to your chambers.”

It wasn’t until after he bathed that everything became real. A horrible guilt filled his heart because of his selfish actions, his emotions had got in the way and he had given up everything including his family name all just for spite.

For so long everyone had looked down on him, including his father, with shame and disappointment. Why should he care for them, for the people who stood by and smiled with approval as that boy was hanged and he was flogged? It made no sense to help or lead them. His dark side wanted them to suffer and know it felt like to feel the pain he had for so long, but his guilt had only made him feel worse the more he thought about it.

He was all alone with no one else. His thoughts went on to what he would do next, not realising before that he hadn’t the faintest clue on how he was going to find a new life. Living as a peasant was probably his best interests and he didn’t mind that.

Everything in his families name was now in the heathen’s hands, something he didn’t have to worry about anymore, but knowing what they did made him want to go back on his words. It was too late though. Ivar wouldn’t agree to other terms.

Peter found himself leaning against the window looking outside the town of what used to be York, the sounds of the Viking’s cheers of victory and drunken loud singing filling the night around them, praising their gods for successfully defeating his father and his army.

Looking around the room he was greeted with candles lightening the darkness and thick furs lay out on the floor. He frown a little as he examined the room more, and soon enough he had realised that this wasn’t a chamber room but what used to be a storage holding room. Everything was cleared out leaving not much else for him to look for.

He had wondered why Ivar just didn’t throw him in a cell or kill him to be done with it. It didn’t make sense. So lost in his thoughts he never heard someone had entered the room, until he felt like he wasn’t alone anymore and turned around to see Ubbe leaning against the door with a small upturn smile.

Peter felt an unsettling fear linger in him as he watched the heathen closely, pondering what he was doing there at the late hour.

“What is your name?” Ubbe asked, much to his surprise that he understood.

“Peter…” He said a little unsure. “I didn’t realise you knew my language.”

“I know it.” Ubbe pushed himself from the door and stepped slowly towards him. “Why did you give up?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, I'm only curios.” He was very close to him, probably too close to Peter’s liking.

“Like I told your brother, I have no interest.”

Ubbe smirked, like he didn’t believe him. His eyes twinkled with mischief looking Peter down and up. “What are your interests then?”

He to a step back to put distance between them only for Ubbe to follow, and continued until his back hit the wall. “Nothing,” that was all he could say.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Peter?” His hot breath hit his face making him shiver and swallow the forming lump in his throat.

Peter admitted to himself that Ubbe was captivating. He watched carefully as Ubbe removed his shirt over his head showing his upper half of toned mussels with the glow from the candles reflected against his skin. His gaze lingered over the light blonde hairs covering his chest, down over his abdomen and disappearing under the waist of his breeches. He realised what he was doing and averted his eyes away.

Ubbe’s hand was than at his neck with some roughness, pinning him against the wall forcing him to look back, fear slowly creeping into his eyes as to what he was planning to do. He knew what they were capable of and that was enough for him to know what he could do to him.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked in a strained voice.

Their eyes held as Ubbe leaned in closer while pressing himself against him. Sweat beamed at Peter’s forehead feeling the radiating heat coming from him and nerves made his muscles tense being pressed between the wall and the man before him. His hand was loosened around his neck leaving his thumb to gently rub against his pulse.

Ubbe leaned towards him, eyes darting between his lips and eyes before closing the distance. Warm lips met with a small moan of protest coming from Peter as he tried breaking the kiss by shoving at his chest only to have both his wrists pinned either side of his head and deepening the kiss. He struggled, only for a moment, until he felt his cock twitch and stiffened so suddenly earning a surprised gasp against the lips. Never had he felt himself react like that before, it was like his desire knew exactly what he wanted, even though his mind was screaming at him to put an end to it.

Ubbe released one wrist and moved down between them to dip his hand under Peter’s waist band making him squirm more under his hold, only to stop when he felt the warmth of his hand wrapping around his hardening cock and started palming him.

The desire was forbidden, so wrong, going against god and all Christians, but oh mighty it felt good.

When he was relaxed enough Ubbe deepened the kiss more and invaded his tongue, only for a short moment before moving away to look down at Peter’s flushed face, but that wasn’t all. His forehead creased as soon as he saw the sadness in Peter’s eyes like he was about the cry but no tears shed.

Peter felt confused over what he was feeling. His arousal was something he hadn’t felt before, even when he kissed the boy from behind the stables he never felt the kind of desire he felt that moment with the heathen.

“Ubbe,” he said his name for the first time remembering Ivar calling him that. “I shouldn’t…”

He removed his hand and started to lift Peter’s shirt up over his head throwing it aside and pressed himself against him again.

“Why? What is stopping you?” Ubbe asked quietly.

“My god…He doesn’t like it…When two men…” It surprised him that he had referred his god wasn’t the only one and Ubbe noticed that. He offered a small pleasant smile for him.

“Your Christian god knows nothing.” He claimed his lips again with a lustful groan and held Peter’s head in his heads to keep him steady in his grasp.

For so long Peter blamed himself and allowed everyone to spit down on him. For too long he prayed to the only god he grew up with and was given nothing in return. What was happening with the heathen was something he never thought could happen, not again that was. The desire he kept hidden for so long was released and he was both thrilled and scared.

The kiss was released again only for his lips to touch his ear. “I knew you were different the moment I set eyes on you, and I knew I had to have you.” Ubbe kissed him again, invading his mouth and deepening the kiss with a lingering moan. Peter couldn’t think besides the warm mouth on his and returned the kiss, forgetting everything even for just a moment. “Abandon your god, even just for tonight. It is just us and my gods.”

Peter was left speechless and could only watch the heathen loom over him like a predator before his mouth was devoured once more in a harsh kiss and pulled away from the wall. Ubbe’s arms wrapped around him like a snake and with hesitation he moved his own around him and let him take lead as he led them over to the makeshift bed of furs on the ground.

Ubbe pushed him and his back hit the furs with a soft thud, their ragged breathes the only sounds filtering the room as Peter watched the man shadowing over him. His mind was made up and embraced what his body longed desired. Ubbe keeled down over him, elbows keeping him balanced above his face. He closed the distance and gave him a quick kiss before slowly making his way down his front leaving trails of hot kisses.

Peter managed to look down from his laying position and saw him smirking proudly at him as he started to unlace his trousers, pulling them down far enough to release his erect cock. His breathing hitched as Ubbe started to stroke him in his palm with a few quick pumps than lowering his head at his twitching cock.

It felt like a million stars had burst all over his skin. The feeling of such pleasure washed over like a flowing river, tingles and sparks erupted all over as Ubbe bobbed his head over his cock, sucking him with his warm lips wrapped around him.

He groaned lowly as he felt his release was about to burst so soon, feeling nothing but the heathen sucking him harder like he knew he was close. He could only watching him by leaning up on his hands and tiled his head back, letting himself go with a sharp moan and spilled his seed.

Ubbe swallowed his seed greedily and moved himself up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before capturing his lips once more. The taste of himself was foreign and yet he craved more. It was probably another sin to tick off, and yet he didn’t care thinking there was nothing to worry about anymore. He came this far and didn’t want it to stop.

They both helped each other to remove the remaining of their clothes, tugging their trousers down and kicking their shoes off trying to keep the kissing in motion. Now both fully naked to each other he felt more alive than never before, though a little shy being so nude in front of the heathen but relaxed a little seeing him giving a calm smile. He allowed Ubbe to dominate his mouth again and kissed back eagerly and felt a brush from his own erect cock bobby between them.

Their bodies rubbed together in motion with their lips, tongues sliding passionately and Ubbe’s hand rubbing the back of Peter’s thigh sending shivers over him. It was a moment Peter wanted to continue, to let it linger, but Ubbe had other ideas and Peter wasn’t really sure how much more the moment could get for them, he knew he was about it find out what more could happen.

Ubbe had than rolled him onto his front and it was then that Peter regretted letting it happen. He felt the heathen behind him stop his motives and stare down at his back with a curios tilt. He had been so distracted he didn’t even think about the scars across his back. Next thing he thought was going to happen was to be asked questions, which was something he didn’t want to talk about. Amazingly Ubbe said nothing, and instead he felt his lips at his scars, kissing along them softly earning a sharp intake followed by a low groan.

After he did this, Ubbe moved back and pushed his shoulders down against the furs. Peter heard him spitting and flinched when he felt wet fingers against his tight ring, his finger circled around before being inserted. The kisses over the back of his neck tried to sooth him from clenching and relax his nerves.

He groaned in discomfort as he felt the finger moving back and forth, shutting his eyes as Ubbe breathed into his ear. He forced himself to adjust and not long after he felt a second finger joining earning a grunt as he tried getting used to the pressure.

Ubbe made sure he was stretched and slick for him as he didn’t want to cause him too much pain for what he planned to do. After rubbing his fingers inside him for a bit he removed them, smirking lightly when he heard Peter gasping lowly from the loss of him. He lifted his waist up and spat into his hand again, gliding it over his cock and spread his cheeks as he rubbed himself along his rear before pushing himself in.

When he felt his cock enter he screwed his eyes shut and pressed his face against the furs muffling his pained groans while he fisted his hands grabbing at the furs. He never expected the pain to be like that and feared he’d just made a huge mistake. There was no going back after this, he was forever a sinner, and his god would never forgive him for what he did that night. Those thoughts vanished when he felt the warm cock twitch within him.

Ubbe pressed himself further until his groin was flushed against his rear, holding still letting out a deep moan and allowing Peter to adjust. He shifted himself, testing with a gentle thrust, earning a low moan and felt satisfied enough. Gripping at his waist he started moving, grunting as he slowly pulled his cock back and pressing back in with gentle thrusts.

Peter winced and groaned as he was rocked in gentle motions against the cock moving within him. The pain had started to suspend and it started to feel good, tingles of pleasure building once more and felt his own cock harden again as it bobbed under him against the movements.

His thrusting had started to quicken. Ubbe’s grip around his waist tightened as he thrust more firmly into him, a growl leaving him with his thrusts and the sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room with their heavy pants and lingering groans.

Peter let out a whimper feeling overwhelmed by the experience and pleasure burning through him. He pressed his face into his crossed arms against the furs feeling the man thrust into him with firm movements. He was lifted up with a tug at his hair, a soft cry was all he made as Ubbe held his head up by his hair and moved around to claim his lips, in which Peter returned eagerly.

Ubbe’s thrusts became harsher. He humped into his rear with forceful thrusts before shoving Peter back into the furs again letting out a beastly growl showing no mercy for him. He leaned over his back, his thrusting never seizing, pressed his lips against his ear letting out heavy pants as he reached under them and grabbed his cock, pumping him as he rutted against him.

It was becoming too much for Peter to handle. The pleasure was making every blurry in his sight and let out a loud cry as he let go of his release, his seed spilling over the furs with a heated moan. Ubbe wasn’t far behind as growls vibrated from his throat and gave a few brutal thrusts before releasing his seed deep within and slumped against his back.

After they both evened their breathing Ubbe pushed himself up and pulled his cock out with a wet pop, a deep sigh followed as he laid next him.

Peter remained on his front letting everything come to his mind over what just happened with mixed emotions over what had just happened. These thoughts were interrupted when he felt himself being turned over wincing as he felt the slight sting of pain at his backside before he felt an arm snake around his waist and pulled him into his heated embrace.

All he could hear was the loud thumping from Ubbe’s heart against his ear where his head rested, soothing his remaining nerves and relaxed more into him. He had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but he knew everything had changed, and it was these last thoughts he had before he felt himself fall into darkness.

#vikings #ubbe #ubbe x reader #ubbe x oc #ubbe x maleoc #fanfiction #fandom #smut #ubbe imagine

53 notes · View notes

lovelybebop · 6 years

Text

Trust Levi X reader

clo-caillea asked:

Oooh I got one! 🙋🙋 Since it's my current theme with everything I myself am writing lol Reader's had an abusive history; her and Levi are just starting to get close enough in the romantic pursuit of each other that he's able to recognize that what he used to think was shyness is actually her fighting off instinctive fears from her past.... And how he would handle this new information as he works on earning her trust.

Hey I hope you all enjoy this! I had a hard time (I’m jacked on Mtn Dew atm) focusing while writing this so if it seems a little rushed or jumpy I apologize in advanced!

I may be continuing this later.

If you liked this or have any tips on writing Levi’s character OR spotted any errors leave me a comment!

Warning: Mentions of abuse, fluff, I YEETED the timeline out the window once again.

Levi spotted you from across the field. You were dancing, doing what you called ballet, Listlessly you pointed your right foot spinning on it like a top, his feet ached at the sight of it but he couldn’t help but be fascinated. ‘It’s a family tradition. My parents insisted I learn’ your voice said in a memory. It was late at night when he caught you the very first time. ‘Your father insisted as well?’ He asked attempting to keep the conversation going. A dark look entered your eyes at the word father. ‘Yes’ you said gruffly losing the kindness your voice always harbored. He studied you as your eyes focused on the blades of grass that were swaying gently in front of you. Not sure what to say he stood in silence with you. ‘Well I’m off to bed. Goodnight Captain.’

He noticed you stop and collect all of your hair into your left hand quickly wrapping it in the black ribbon you always kept tied around your wrist. It had gotten so long since the first time he met you, it being at your shoulders then now it dangled gracefully at your hips. He wished you would cut your hair, not that he didn’t adore it. Whenever the two of you were alone he found himself wanting to run his finger through your soft locks breathing in your flower petal scent. Not that he ever did of course. The thing that bothered him was if your ribbon were to untie while you were in combat it would be so easy for a titan to grab onto your flowing locks and rip you out of his world like they seem to have done with everyone else in his life. He sighed seeing you had continued on with your pace. You were a quiet girl, still able to make friendly conversation when called upon but for the most part you remained quiet and by yourself. He understood this as he often wanted to be left alone as well.

You had graduated at the top of your class and were highly praised for your athletic talent. Levi was slightly impressed when he first saw you using your ODM gear. ‘Not bad for a newbie’ You spun, much like the dancing you practiced, your way through the forest section of the training grounds easily slicing into the wooden titan’s soft spot, like it was butter, like it was nothing at all. Shortly after that he chose you for his squad. Levi’s eyes softened remembering how Petra’s face lit up at the mention of another girl joining on. He remembered you and Petra had become close often sneaking out late at night to talk on the grass so the others couldn’t hear. Despite this he could still tell you were keeping your distance from the others including himself. When conversations got to meaningful you would dismiss yourself from the room not having uttered a heartfelt word to anyone. The others hadn’t noticed this even Levi didn’t take note of it until recently when observing your behavior became more important to him.

Maybe that is why you were still alive, maybe the relationships you avoided made you stronger. He sighed letting his ashy eyes take in the environment around him.

You had spotted him standing on the edge of the field and began jogging towards him you E/C eyes stared at the ground in front of you, embarrassed he may have caught you dancing again. You were the only surviving member of your class and as of two days ago the only surviving member, besides himself, of the Special Operations Squad.

“Y/N!” He shouted hoping not to startle you. Abruptly you came to a halt looking in his direction. “Were you planning on eating? Lunch time is almost over” You looked at the sky for a moment before walking to him. “Already? It feels like I just started on my laps” You said out of breathe. Levi looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Oh yeah? You sure as hell don’t smell like you just started.” Pink blush rushed to your checks in embarrassment but you were still able to smile sweetly. “Your one to talk captain” you responded softly but proudly. He snickered happy to see you still had your spirits about you, it was a relief that you were still here by his side. Something about it seemed to damper the aching pain of losing the others. Making it to the building he opened the door for you ushering you to step inside. “Why were just standing in the field watching me Captain?” you spoke wonder in your voice. The two of you entered the wooden paneled hallway it being quiet due to everybody being in the dining area, the torches burning softly as you passed by them. He looked at you slyly “Sometimes you lose your footing when you’re dancing and you fall flat on your ass. It’s actually very entertaining to watch cadet” A pathetic squeak escaped your mouth. ’Oh god he saw me!’ you thought regretting dancing in broad daylight. You blushed deeply. This was the man you completely adored and wanted to impress yet there you went acting like a spaz again. “There’s no need to be embarrassed Y/N it’s good to have a hobby” He said noticing a wave of relief wash over your body, a shy smile on your lips. “Thank you Levi.” you said opening the doors to the kitchen. Instantly you looked at the table you regularly sat at with Petra, Olou, Gunther and Eld. It was empty as it had been for the last couple of days. Sadness threatened to break into your heart but you shook it away.

Levi watched you walk away. As you walked you undid the ribbon, your hair falling gracefully down onto your back, you glanced back at him with a smile. In an attempt to hide how hard he was staring at you he walked to the table Hanji and Moblit were sitting at, settling in his usual spot.

“Hey why don’t you sit with me and Connie Y/N? It’s the least you could do for whipping me in the face with your hair just now” Jean said gawking at you. You smiled sweetly at him finishing up putting food on your plate. “I guess I could sit with you guys” you said making your way to the open spot by Jean. To be honest you were nervous it was very seldom you talked to the other soldiers. Not that you had anything against them really it was just hard for you to talk to others, it was hard for you to let yourself trust others. ‘It will be good’ you mused to yourself in an attempt to throw out your precautions

As you sat down Levi noticed how Jean kept looking over your figure, like you were a piece of meat. “Why do you keep your hair so long anyway Y/N?” Connie asked taking a bite of his food. You shrugged picking apart the bread on your plate. “I just like it that way.” The two boys nodded. “It is very beautiful” Jean spoke grabbing a piece of your hair. Instantly you froze a memory flashing through your head. Your dad was squatted down in front of you looking at your young frame curled up in the corner. He grabbed at your hair whispering drunkenly in your ear. “It is very beautiful” Connie having noticed our body change spoke your name multiple times not seeming to be able to pull you out of your trance. “Y/N??” Jean said putting one of his arms around you. At his touch you pushed him off of you sending him flying into the wall. “Don’t touch me!” You yelled boiling anger fumed inside of you until you saw the confused looks of those around you. Their eyes beamed through your soul the gravity of your actions settling in.

Your eyes met with Jean’s who was nursing his head, blood coated his fingertips. He looked at you his face twisted up with hurt. “I’m sorry” you breathed running out of the room as fast as you could. Hot tears streamed down your face as you burst out of the building and into the green field. The memory of your father replaying unmercifully through your head. “Please stop” Your feet picked up speed seeming to think the faster they went the better chance you had to outrun the memory. “I almost forgot you” The tears blurred the blue sky and lush green trees around you, the ground being nothing but a splotch of green and brown. You let your feet slow until you were at a complete stop, leaving you standing in the open field where you belonged. It was stupid of you to even think it would be good to let your guard down. Everyone you came into contact with either disappears or you hurt them in some fit of rage. Letting yourself fall you knelt down, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. You fell back onto your butt wrapping your arms around your knees like you did as a child to shut out the world. You thought of Jean and the betrayal in his face. He had no intention of hurting you and you knew it, yet you couldn’t separate what was in your head from the reality around you.

“Y/N!” Levi yelled seeing you across the field. The worry in his chest subsiding. He watched you stand up abruptly, rubbing the remaining tears away from your eyes. His gaze softened knowing you were attempting to hide the fact that you were crying. “Yes captain?” you said keeping your back to him. He gently stepped closer to you watching your body for any negative reaction. “You laid Horse-Face out pretty good back there” he said admiring the way the sun brought out red tones in your hair. You didn’t answer not really knowing what to say, you had known Levi for a little over 4 years now but still found it hard to talk to him despite all the two of you had been through together. You took a deep breathe in collecting your nerves. “Do you remember how you asked me about my father a couple years ago?” you said quietly bringing your hands together in front of you. Levi’s eyes flashed with sadness putting together what you were about to say. All your behaviors made sense now.

He flipped you around embracing you in a deep hug “It’s okay. I understand you don’t need to say anymore.” Finding solace in his arms you pressed your head against his chest breathing in his scent.

He wanted to tell you how much you meant to him and that he was glad you were still alive on this Earth with him but he hesitated not wanting to drop that more weight on you. It would have to wait for another day.

#levi ackerman x reader #Captain Levi #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin

30 notes · View notes

sage-nebula · 7 years

Note

Five questions you want to answer but haven't been asked yet! ;D

99.) Pokemon Cards, Games, or Show?

Despite my unyielding, unending, unstoppable love for Alan, the games will always come first for me. (Of course, he’s had a shout-out in the games as well, so … ;D) The games are the entire reason why I was interested in watching the anime in the first place. The games are the reason why I was interested in the cards. As much as I love the anime and have a lot of opinions about it, the games always have and always will come first for me. The games are where it all started. Without the games, we wouldn’t have any of what we currently have. Without the games, the anime wouldn’t exist. Without the games, the hundreds of manga series (because there are a lot, which is why I get so aggravated when people talk about “the” manga when referencing PokéSpe) wouldn’t exist. The games started it all, the games are the source of everything. The games will always come first.

After the games, though, I do pick the anime. And then the cards, I guess, but I haven’t cared about the TCG in a very long time, outside of still being salty af that my biological mother threw out my card album (that had, among other things, my holographic first edition charizard card, and sentimental value aside, those still sell for upwards of $300 on eBay; I wouldn’t sell it, but damn, she threw away something so valuable out of pure spite and stupidity, I just). So for me it goes games, anime, and … everything else, haha.

98.) Pokemon main series games, pokemon ranger games, or pokemon mystery dungeon games?

The main series games come first, obviously, for all the reasons started above and more. I love the main series games. While of course I have some criticisms about some of them, and while of course there are some things that could be done better, I still adore the main series games and very likely always will. I love most everything about them and I can’t foresee that changing.

But that said, I also really, really, really love the Ranger games! Or at least, I really loved the one I played, which was Guardian Signs. The gameplay was a lot of fun, I love the concept of the Rangers and the Ranger Union, and how they differ from ordinary trainers but still do so much good in their own unique way. I love how they “capture” pokémon by not actually capturing them, per se, but rather by using their capture stylers to convey their feelings to the pokémon, calming them or soothing them and then asking for help from them. I also love the instances where this is done when rescuing pokémon from the poachers / villains. They send pokémon out to attack you, as any trainer would, but instead of battling and knocking their pokémon out, you use the capture styler to soothe and convince that pokémon to stop attacking. You, in essence, help that pokémon see that they don’t have to battle for this awful person! To be honest, having a device that can allow you to communicate with a trainer’s pokémon like that could be used for nefarious purposes, if put into the wrong hands, but capture styling is not as easy as it looks and I imagine that Rangers have to undergo tests and rigorous training to be certified. Regardless, I loved all these aspects, as well as the overall atmosphere, the story (even the silly bits!), and the characters … and I adored the Sign aspect of it, how you could draw, well, guardian signs with your styler in order to summon legendary pokémon. Did you know, Pokémon Ranger: Guardian Signs had Soaring long before ORAS! And you didn’t have to Soar on one of the Latis (though of course you could, and why wouldn’t you?), but rather, you could Soar on any flying-type pokémon you had bonded with during a “capture” session. It was great. And you could rampage across the countryside on Raikou, or Entei, or Suicune, just by summoning them with your styler. You didn’t own them, of course, they weren’t captured in a little monster ball, but you could summon them if you needed them for aid just by drawing their sign in the sky. (Or, er, if you wanted to get across Oblivia faster, but … >_>;; ) It was great, and that’s the kind of legendary pokémon partnership I’m okay with, rather than the utter nonsense of capturing one to use for battle.

Anyway, I really want to replay this game, and I might do that soon, but I really loved it! I wish we could get a new Ranger game sometime this century, but alas … T___T

(Meanwhile, I don’t see the appeal of the Mystery Dungeon games. At all. I never have. I tried to play the first one, I really did, but I was so bored I completely forgot I owned it after a little while. I’m glad people enjoy them, more power to them, but they’re not for me, and I wish we could chill out on getting new Mystery Dungeons to instead get at least one new Ranger game instead, but alas.)

97.) Gym Leader, Elite Four, or Champion?

I’m not entirely sure what this one is asking, if it’s asking which one I’d personally want to be, or which position I value more highly, or what. But either way, I guess my answer is Champion … but in the way I see it, rather than the way I think most people interpret it.

In all my years in this fandom / way of life, I’ve seen most people interpret “Champion” as simply “strongest trainer, gets lots of accolades, gets to sit on a throne and be cool all day”. And I can’t blame people for having that interpretation, because—in an effort to make this series accessible to kids, which is not something I am faulting—Pokémon has not delved very deeply into politics. Again, just to make it extra clear, that’s understandable; kids aren’t here to play a game that dives deep into policy and procedure, even though Gen V really toed that line and confirmed a lot of the beliefs and headcanons I already had, even without explicitly saying so. But either way, I refuse to buy into the idea that the Champion is just there to be strong and take challenges. A Champion is more than that. A Champion needs to be more than that. Setting aside that this world has to at least try to have some form of functioning government in some way, if someone is going to hold the position of Champion—if they are going to be the ones that people and pokémon look to in times of crisis—then they need to earn that. In my view, a Champion is someone who not only handles all the policy and procedure that comes across their desk as it comes across their desk (fulfilling the executive branch, as well as tapping into legislative and judicial when the time calls for it), but they’re also a protector. They’re the very tip of the spear that is used to protect their region and all of those within it. In How to Train Your Dragon 2, Hiccup says, “The alpha protects them all,” and that’s the Champion, in my eyes. If the Champion is the strongest trainer in the region—and that’s something that all Pokémon media seems to agree on—then it is the Champion’s duty—their obligation and responsibility—to use that strength that they have to protect all of those within their region who may not be able to protect themselves. Regardless of anything, regardless of the danger or crisis, regardless of whether the people and pokémon in that region love them or hate them, they have to protect them, it’s their job. “It’s not about what they deserve. It’s about what you believe,” Diana says in Wonder Woman, and that, too. That’s absolutely true of the Champion. The Champion, as the strongest there is, is the one who must put themselves between their region and any oncoming danger. They need to be the ones looking out for the people and pokémon. They need to be the ones fighting for them, both in terms of literal fights (battles) and metaphorical ones (legislation, politics, et cetera). That’s their duty, first and foremost, before anything else. They have to be ready, and willing, and able to do it.

So to try and sum this ramble up, in my eyes, being the Champion is completely empty, meaningless, and worthy of scorn of all it amounts to is praise for being The Very Best™ and adoration from fans. That’s not what it should be about. If the only point to being Champion is to sit on a throne and look pretty, then I’ll pass, thanks. Being the Champion should be about being the people’s and pokémon’s champion. It should mean protecting those who can’t protect themselves. It should mean fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves. It should mean standing up, saying “no” when someone threatens innocent lives, and doing what’s right even when everyone else just runs away. (Thanks for letting me paraphrase you, Rose Tyler.) It should mean taking that skill and that strength you have and putting it toward what’s right, even and especially when it’s difficult, even and especially when you might not get thanks or recognition afterward.

Being Champion is not about accolades. It’s work. It’s incredibly difficult work, available only to a select few, but that’s what makes it so important and meaningful. That’s why I hold that position in such esteem, and also why I’m so selective about which characters I think could potentially do it, and do it well. It’s not just winning badges and tournaments. It’s so much more than that. So, so much more.

84.) Drought, Drizzle, Sand Stream, or Snow Warning?

And now for a shorter, less intense answer—Drought! Specifically, the Drought ability on my ‘Zard Y, which I then use to immediately Solar Beam any foolish water-types that thought they could take my dragon down. ♥

76.) Reshiram, Zekrom, or Kyurem?

Reshiram! In pretty much every single way, haha. Superior typing (dragon/fire), superior design, and I also prefer what Reshiram stands for (truth) over the others. Reshiram is right alongside Victini in terms of favorite Gen V legendaries. ♥

#pokemon choice meme #ryttu3k #if anyone ever wondered why Alan is such an obvious fit for Champion in my eyes #then reading this post is probably illuminating hahaha

4 notes · View notes

iamartemisday · 7 years

Text

Artsy- Steve/Jane

For @janeyfoster

Happy Belated Birthday! :D

The very first weekend of Jane's very first year of college, she had nothing to do. She'd thought she would. Getting all her pre-reqs out of the way meant she had five pages of math problems, two chapters with critical thinking questions for intro to physics, three chapters of European history, and a whooping ten chapters of Jane Eyre to get through by Monday. Two days of work on paper didn't seem like it could translate to seven hours in practice, but by Saturday morning, Jane's books were stored in her backpack and she had forty eight hours of free time to kill. Sometimes, even she forgot what an overachiever she was.

After getting breakfast she returned to her dorm room and fished a book out of her travel bag. On the advice of an older friend, she'd packed light on the books. 'The workload will eat up ninety percent of your free time and for the other ten percent you'll be unconscious,' she'd said, because clearly, she was not an overachiever.

Two chapters in, the front door opened and in walked Jane's roommate. Darcy Lewis, on first impression, was everything Jane had never wanted in a roommate. She was loud, she left dirty socks on the floor, she ate chips at three in the morning, and that was nothing compared to the friends she brought over. Over time, though, Darcy had proven to be intelligent, studious when she wanted to be, and an excellent listener.

"Jane, what the hell are you doing in this room reading a book when it's Saturday?"

Oh, and she was nosy. That too.

"If I hadn't done all my homework, I'd be spending Saturday in the library if that helps," Jane said.

"You finished all your homework?" Darcy's eyes popped out. "How?"

"Diligence, concentration, and a lot of coffee." Jane marked her place and set the book aside. She moved to the side of her bed. "Did you do any of yours?"

Darcy bit her lip. "Um… ask me again tomorrow night. Anyway, if you've got nothing else to do, you should come with me."

"I already told you, Darce, I don't drink."

"No, not that," Darcy shook her head. "I went to the club last night. I'm talking about the big art show the seniors are putting on. Didn't you hear about it?"

She might've seen a flyer with the words 'Art Show' on the dormitory bulletin board while writing down the date and time the science club met. It was either that or 'Art Film Showing'. Neither would've held her attention for more than a second. She said as much, earning a scoff and an eye roll.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she whined. "It's not just pretentious modern art if that's what you're thinking. There'll be paintings and sculptures and even some performance art. Ever wanted to see a woman paint a mural using her body as the brush?"

"More than anything in the world," said Jane, picking up her book. It was immediately snatched from her hands and thrown across the room behind her computer desk.

"Please?" Darcy pouted. "We'll get to meet some hot seniors. Maybe even get some numbers."

"Seniors don't date freshman," said Jane.

"Yeah, in high school. This is college! There are students who date their professors!"

Jane raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not saying they should do that, but they do," Darcy dropped all her body weight onto Jane, hugging her tight and giving her enormous, shiny, wobbly puppy eyes. "Pleeeeeeeeease?"

If she wasn't a grown woman, it would be highly effective. Jane would've cracked a lot sooner than she did.

"Okay, fine!" she shouted, shoving Darcy out of her lap. "I'll go to the art show with you."

"Yay!" Darcy rushed to Jane's closet and ripped out half her wardrobe, tossing it to the floor. "Let's find you something sexy and get a move on!"

'I wonder if it's too late to request a new dorm room,' Jane thought.

After an hour of Darcy denouncing Jane's fashion sense and Jane vehemently defending it, they settled on a compromise. Jane would wear ass hugging skinny jeans and strappy high heeled sandals, as per Darcy's suggestion. She would also were a long sleeved shirt with her favorite plaid jacket. Jane was surprised Darcy agreed to that part until they arrived at the art center across campus.

"May I take your coats, ladies?" asked the guy at the check in counter as they were signing in.

Jane shrugged out of her jacket and adjusted the top of her shirt. It was a sleek black and looked decent on her. Not that she put much weight in Darcy's idea of picking up guys, but she was feeling good about herself and that was the most important thing in the end. As they walked down a hallway lined with paintings, Darcy somehow had commentary for every single one.

"I think that one represents the pain of moving forward in life," she said, squinting her eyes at one particular piece. "See the way the shading changes the colors? That soft shade of yellow is like a sunset. Like the sun setting on a life full of passion and regret."

"Darcy," Jane stared at her. "That's a painting of a banana."

The banana sat on a brown table, unpeeled with nothing around it except the artist's name scribbled in the corner like an afterthought.

"Jane, please," Darcy hissed at her. "I'm trying to be artsy here."

They moved further into the exhibit, at a pace slow enough to be measured in negative numbers. Jane had long since spotted Darcy writing in a blue notebook as she sung the praises of another circle with a dotted line in the center. That explained what they were doing here. Darcy color coded all her subjects and extracurricular activities in a marginally successful bid at being organized. Blue was for Official campus blog posts. By the time they got to the sculpture hall, an hour had gone by and Jane's stomach was growling. The welcome sign had promised free refreshments. So far, Jane hadn't seen so much as a water fountain.

"So am I just here to keep you company while you gather blogging material?" Jane asked loudly over the applause from a group gushing over a pair of glasses on a podium.

"No, you're here because we're friends and friends do stuff together," Darcy said, flipping to a clean page. "Also I needed an outsider's perspective. As a non-artist, how do you feel about My Light in Springtime Orange by Ms. Amanda O'Connell?"

Darcy directed Jane to a sculpture of either a swan stretching its wings in preparation for flight or a person doing a demi-plie. There were no facial features and no colors, making the name a misnomer. She tilted her head to the side and the shape didn't change. "It looks like a really big clump of play-doh some kid tried to make a person out of."

"Do you mean that in a good way?" Darcy asked hopefully. When Jane didn't stop frowning, she sighed and moved on to the next piece. "Okay, how about this one?"

It was a sphere on a stick. Literally. That was the entire sculpture. A stick reaching as high as her shoulder with a globe sized ball balanced on the point. How it stayed in place piqued the curiosity of the mathematician in her up until she realized it was probably held together with a powerful adhesive. It might fall over anyway if she gave it a good poke. She smiled at the thought, but backed away. A joke wasn't worth getting sued for property damage.

"That's got to be the biggest lollipop I've ever seen," she said, grinning. "What flavor do you think it is?"

For once in her life, Darcy was not in a joking mood. She grumbled and groused as she moved down the line faster than Jane cared to follow. This blog post must've been super important. The next sculpture wasn't much better than the last. If nothing else, it looked like someone had put actual effort into it. A figure resembling a man of average height embraced a second figure resembling a woman. Neither had hair, but the curvature of the bodies was clearly defined and she could even see fingers on the hands of the man. He held the woman around her waist, keeping her flush against him. His head was slightly bowed with downcast eyes. On closer inspection, his facial features were a tad lopsided, but at least they were present.

"First Time," Jane read from the placard, "by Steve Rogers. Huh…"

"What do you think?"

Jane turned to the source of the voice to find a tall, broad shouldered man with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a perfectly chiseled face. In fact, he fit the 'All American classic good looks' standard to the point where he might as well have been copy pasted out of a movie and into the real world. He had his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face. That he wasn't looking down his nose at her like the other art students she'd met tonight scored him points without a single word spoken.

"Um…" Jane took a second, closer look at the sculpture. It was exactly the same as the first time. "I guess it's nice… it's cute how they're hugging."

His smile broke. "Dancing, you mean."

"Are they dancing?" Jane squinted her eyes, as if that would magically turn what was obviously a hug from behind into the Tango. "Looks more like they're just standing there."

"Well, it is a sculpture."

"Yeah, but if the artist was going for dancing, I think maybe it should look more like a dance," Jane said, tripping over her words once or twice. She had only the faintest idea of what she was saying. For all she knew this could be a brilliant work of art on par with the Statue of David. What the hell did she know? "I don't know what 'First Time' means either. First time dancing? First time sculpting more like it, right?"

She laughed to defuse the tension, but as she watched the man's face change from bemusement to genuine hurt, a terrible thought sliced through Jane's heart and stabbed at her brain. She stepped away from the man instinctively, now picturing him pressing dust coated hands into marble (wait, was that statue marble or something else?)

"Wait uh… are you…" Jane pointed at the statue, then back at him. She repeated the action a few more times as he smiled apologetically. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I… I like it a lot more than the sculptures. I really do. It looks like you put a lot into it."

Steve chuckled. "Thanks, but you weren't wrong. This was my first try at sculpting. I'm more of a painter and a sketch artist, but I wanted to branch out."

"I'm really sorry," Jane said again. "Don't even worry about my opinion. I'm so art illiterate I thought Michelangelo was just a Ninja Turtle all the way through high school. My word means absolutely nothing."

"I don't think so," said Steve, glancing back at his work and giving it a onceover. "It really does look like they're hugging, doesn't it?"

"It's still better than the world's biggest lollipop over there," Jane muttered, not expecting him to hear her. Except he seemed to have crazy sensitive ears.

"That would be a statement on the hypocritical nature of a society that preaches individualism while simultaneously encouraging strict conformity to social norms," he recited. "At least that's what Phil told me."

"It just makes me want a lollipop," Jane said, and as soon as the words got out, her stomach whined. "Or anything at all. I shouldn't have skipped lunch…"

"The cafe is around the corner," Steve pointed at the far end of the room, which did not have a sign reading 'cafe this way anywhere.' As if they wanted people to be confused and not know where to go. Maybe that was a statement on the confusion of early adult life in the modern age. "I'd be happy to buy you a cup of coffee. Artists get fifty percent discounts on all cafe items."

That was pretty bold for having just met, not that Jane was complaining. Past the almost artificial beauty he possessed there was something impossibly adorable about this guy. She'd almost completely forgotten he was a senior and well out of her league no matter what Darcy said.

"I'd like that," she said, before her common sense kicked in and demanded she slink away like a proper awkward science nerd. "Maybe you could show me your other artwork or explain to me all the deep social commentary in that one banana painting."

"Or you could explain it to me," he suggested, "because I swear it's just a banana on a table…"

"I know, right?"

They wandered off to the cafe, enjoying coffee and sandwiches and laughing about some of the more bizarre forms of abstract art on display. Once Jane swore up and down that she'd never repeat his comments to anyone (solidarity with fellow artists or something), he'd riffed a piece that was just a deflated football painted purple and a painting of a dot on an otherwise empty canvas.

"You know," he said near ten o'clock when the cafe was about to close, "you have a hell of an expressive face."

And there was the oddest compliment Jane had ever received in her life. "Thank you?"

Steve played with a plastic fork. "I was wondering if you'd let me draw you?"

Jane blinked and said nothing, which seemed to be the wrong answer.

"Just a quick sketch, and you can have it when I'm done if you want," he added hastily. "You've got one of those faces… have you ever thought about modeling for a life drawing class?"

"Isn't that where they draw naked people?" Jane asked, aghast.

"Not always," Steve replied. He pulled his sketchbook out of his bag. He'd taken it out once already to let Jane flip through it, and for all that she knew nothing of art, his drawings were objectively amazing. She'd stand by that as a scientific fact. He took out a few pencils and ignored the cashier shouting for everyone to make their final purchases before they closed in ten minutes. "Turn your head to the side."

Jane complied, choosing to forget that she'd never accepted his request. "Like this?"

"Not so far." He pulled her head forward an inch with one finger. He had warm, strong hands. "That's right. Lower your chin a little… and balance your head on your hand… that's perfect. Keep it like that for about five minutes."

Five minutes didn't sound like enough time to do a proper sketch of a person, even just from the chest up. She wasn't the artist here, though, so Jane kept silent and did as she was told. After two or three minutes, the novelty was wearing off and Jane's arm began to ache. Staying in a position like this could only be comfortable for so long and the clock was ticking. She almost flinched once and prayed Steve hadn't noticed. From the angle, all she could see was the side of his face and it was buried in that sketchbook. His hand moved fast across the page but stayed focused in the center.

"Done," he said a hundred years later. That was how Jane felt before checking the time on her phone.

"Six minutes," she said, presenting the screen to him. "You're not as good as you think."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" He held up the sketchbook.

Only one person had ever drawn Jane before. The boy who crushed on her in first grade drew her as an astronaut on the moon and gave it to her for Valentine's Day. That would always be one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her, but once again, Steve Rogers had proven himself a top contender for sweetest guy she'd ever known. Her face rendered on the page was like a two dimensional mirror. The lines of her face, the shading on her neck, even her fingers were flawless. Not that she thought she was some great beauty, but if she didn't know that was her own face, she'd believe he believed it.

"Wow," she said, taking it from him and holding it to the light. "That's… wow."

"You're welcome," said Steve. "Do you want it?"

In response, Jane placed the sketchbook flat on the table and picked up a pencil. She checked one more time that no inner voice of reason was currently active and then wrote her full name and number in the corner before passing it back to him.

"Let's do this again sometime," she said, pushing her chair out. "But I'm not modeling for you naked." 'Yet.'

Steve wore the biggest, happiest grin in the world as he walked Jane back to the lobby where Darcy and a few more artists were waiting. They were grouped together next to the coat check, one girl talking at length about her piece while Darcy wrote furiously.

"So I was trying to capture the pain of moving forward into an uncertain adulthood with the shades of the banana…"

"That is so deep," another artist whispered in awe.

Jane stifled her laughter as Steve helped her into her coat. "See you soon," she said as casually as she could with her heart pounding.

"Definitely," he said, making her blood pump even harder.

By the time he disappeared into the crowd, Darcy had defused herself from the group and linked an arm through Jane's, leading her to the doors. "I have so much material for my blog I think I'll make two posts. I just wish I could've met some of the sculptors."

Jane smiled to herself, warmth spreading from her shoulders where Steve's knuckles had brushed her. If only she'd been wearing a sleeveless top. Lord knows how more intimate contact between them would feel. "Yeah, they're pretty awesome."

#Steve Rogers #Jane Foster #StevexJane #birthday #fanfic

8 notes · View notes