#Is it fair? Is it fulfilling? Am I happy?
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I had a weird crisis in my head and just put it through the Monokuma bot as Kokichi
#Kokichi ouma#Drv3#Monokuma bot#Is it fair? Is it fulfilling? Am I happy?#It's sooo complicateddd and I wanna create too#*back later in the day for catchup- IRL and all#General fandom#Fun stuff#*nvm today was a writeoff.
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ready (klaus mikaelson)
plot: klaus always knew that one day you'd take him up on his offer.
character: female vampire reader x klaus mikaelson
inspired by something similar he says to caroline
"One day, love, you'll come to me. Might be in two years, might be two hundred but mark my words, you'll realise I was right along. I am the only one who can fulfil your wildest desires and your largest dreams. When you realise that, you'll come knocking on my door and then... well, love, then I'll give you the world."
It had been three and a half years since Klaus Mikaelson had said this to you. Three long years. He'd came into your life as a villain, you were supposed to hate him. He had killed, harmed and tortured so many of your friends (and his sister had tortured you a fair few times) and yet, he was always so delicate and gentle with you. He'd been interested in you pretty much ever since he came to Mystic Falls. You'd hated him... or at least, you tried.
He had gotten under your skin all of those years ago. He'd saved you too many times to count. He had shown you kindness and compassion, had recognised you for who you were; Klaus had seen you. You'd gotten to see a glimpse of the human side to him, not the scary big bad wolf, you'd started to see him. And when he left, with an invite extended your way, it took everything in you to say no.
Klaus hadn't stepped foot in Mystic Falls since he left and yet, every few months or so, he would write to you. Seldom did you respond but you enjoyed reading about his travels. Each time he wrote, he would send photos of the new place he was visiting usually with a list of reasons as to why you'd love it there with drawings he'd done and every single time he wrote, he attached a plane ticket to whatever destination with your name on it. You never used them, instead they gathered dust in a drawer which was full of his old letters. Klaus also always wrote exactly where he was staying at the end of the letter so you knew exactly how to get to him. Periodically, you'd go through and read some of them. They always smelled like him and had the same send off each time.
'Unequivocally yours, Klaus'
You knew that if you needed him, he would be there immediately. He had promised you as such. And the one time you called for help when Caroline got bit by a werewolf, Klaus couldn't be there in person but he sent Elijah with a few vials of his blood (extras for any future emergencies). He would do anything for you and all he wanted was the chance to show you as such.
So when this month's letter arrived with details of his new adventure complete with a plane ticket to Italy, you decided to take the chance you'd regretted not taking three and a half years prior. Your friends were oddly supportive which surprised you but Bonnie had told you she wanted you to be happy and if he's what made you happy then so be it. Damon wasn't impressed but he rarely ever was. Stefan urged you to your happy ending. Caroline approved, she'd seen the way Klaus would've done anything for you so even though she didn't like him, she knew that he was the real deal. Elena was supportive, she'd gone for the 'bad guy' in Damon so she understood the inner conflict and told you that it was okay to let yourself be happy.
So, you packed a bag and headed to Italy.
Getting there was the easy bit; the hard bit was finding the courage to knock on the front door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you stood on the grounds of what you could only describe as a small castle. It was beautiful, with glorious gardens and fragrant flowers. You swallowed hard before taking a breath, this is what you came for, and you knocked three times.
After a few seconds, you could hear someone's voice approaching. Klaus.
"-I didn't ask you to go to such lengths, brother, though I have to say I do appreciate it-"
He opened the door and his expression turned from one of mild annoyance to complete shock.
"Elijah, more important matters have emerged, I'll speak to you later." He hung up, pocketing his phone quickly. He looked good. The Italian sun suited him, turning his hair a shade blonder and making his blue eyes pop, "(y/n)..." A slow, wide smile spread onto his face.
You swallowed hard, "Hi, Klaus."
He stepped aside, silently inviting you into his castle, and with a small smile you breezed past him. He closed the door and led you through to a grand room with various couches and paintings. You looked around incredulously, "This place... it's incredible."
Klaus smiled, "I told you that you'd like this one."
You looked at him and felt nerves bubble in your stomach. You'd came all this way and now... you didn't know what to do. Klaus eyed you curiously, trying to gauge how you were feeling, "Do you need something?" Oh, how he hoped that you were here for him but he had to be sure.
You shook your head, finding words too hard to find, and instead looked back to the paintings, "These are beautiful, did you do these?"
Klaus appeared at your side, making you jump slightly, "Sorry, love," he smirked. He was so close to you, so near that you could smell his cologne. Your heart raced. His hand reached out past you to touch the painting, "I painted all of these, yes. This one is my favourite."
"The colours are lovely," you nodded.
Klaus smiled, quickly vanishing and then returning to your side, "Here, look in the mirror and then look at the painting."
You frowned at him but complied regardless of your confusion. He handed you a small hand mirror which you looked into and then at the painting, "I don't get it," you said to which he urged you to look again and then you realised, "my eyes."
Klaus grinned, "There we go, love," he beamed proudly, "my favourite colours and shades to use. They crop up a lot in my paintings. Go, look," he encouraged you forwards, "take a look and you'll see how often you feature in my paintings."
For a moment, you walked around the room, soaking in the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints of your eye colour in every single one of his paintings. It touched you causing you to feel warm inside and you couldn't understand why. You looked at him. He stood on the other side of the room watching you with awe filled eyes, "But why?" You asked softly with tears filling your eyes, "Why me?"
In an instant, he was in front of you, chest touching yours, with his eyes locked with yours, "Oh, love," he whispered, hand reaching out to graze your cheek softly, "It's always been you."
You looked up at him, "You asked me if I needed something earlier." Klaus's brow furrowed and his hand stilled - fear; fear that you weren't here for him, fear that you needed something and then you'd disappear again. "I do need something, Klaus."
"Anything."
"I want... I need you." Your admission was quiet but he heard you loud and clear, "For years, I've regretted saying no to your offer to come with you. I want to live, Klaus. I want to be free. I want to be happy and that means letting myself be happy with... you."
"Me?" Klaus asked.
You nodded as your own hand found its way to rest on his chest, "I'm ready to fall in love with you, Klaus. I just hope I'm not too late."
He grinned, wider than you'd ever seen him smile, "You're right on time, love," he said before his lips crashed to yours. And for the first time ever, you let yourself give in.
#one shot#reader insert#os#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikaelson imagine#imagine#tvd#tvd imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries
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EPIC: THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)
CHAPTER ONE : THE SECOND MIRACLE

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polities/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader
chpt. sum. : you settle down for a game of animal crossing but faint and wake up in the EPIC: The Musical universe.
tags. : EPIC x ACNH ; reader is a comfort gamer ; female reader ; pure comfort ; reader helps ody get home ; happy ending for everyone! ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; characters know their future
length. : 5.5k
a/n : this is very unserious but is meant to be pure comfort. This is also pretty self-indulgent and is the result of my current obsession with EPIC: The Musical. I'm sad it's over but am happy to add to the fandom and make a place for myself in it (❀' ˘ '❀) I hope you darlings have a fun time reading!
navi. | series m.list
Pulling away from your phone, you sigh in content and stretch. EPIC: The Musical had become an obsession of yours and now that it was complete, you were delving into fanmade content; a mix of animatics, fanart and fanfiction. You had just finished reading a fanfic of the characters reacting to their future via the musical before it ever happens. The final chapter ends with all the characters returning to their original places in the universe, eager to avoid the mistakes they have just witnessed leading to their demise and Odysseus' change from man to monster.
Before they could be sent back, Odysseus took a moment to lovingly bid his beloved Penelope and only son, Telemachus goodbye while the gods pledge not to interfere with his journey home as long as he doesn't make the same mistakes. If they should encounter each other again, they will not be courteous and everything will unfold as it had been told to them in the musical.
The ending left you with a feeling of hope. In the universe of that fanfic, Odysseus will know what to do for a brighter future and you have full confidence in him fulfilling that – he is the warrior of the mind, after all.
It was still rather cold outside and leading into the evening, you were eager to bundle up in your giant beanbag chair with a blanket to play your favourite comfort game: Animal Crossing: New Horizons. First things first, however, you float into the kitchen to brew some tea and prepare a small plate of snacks. You have a lot of plans for your gaming session tonight. Your island was going under a huge revamp. For your new aesthetic, you're leaning into a cottage-core theme, something rustic with flourishing wildlife, trees, flowers and beaten paths. You were going to miss your fun, rural town island but you're very excited about the cosy vibes a countryside theme would bring. You're sure the change will only elevate the cosiness of the game.
It was going to be a huge undertaking but you've paid all your loans, gathered all the recipes, furniture and miscellaneous items, played the DLC, unlocked everything there is to unlock, collected all the fish, bugs and art to display in the museum, and you have an island full of villagers you adore. Revamping the island is the most exciting thing you can do now that you've played the game to the fullest. Hence why you were preparing your favourite snacks to have with your best blend of tea. Even though you've technically 'completed' the game, you're still eager to play it over and over again.
When you were finally curled up in your huge beanbag, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket with your tea and snacks on the side table, all you had left to do was put something on in the background; naturally, you chose the 'EPIC' soundtrack. You were obsessed.
Hopping into your island, you begin by erasing all your previous terraforming and rearranging your rivers and lakes. Everything you wanted to include had been planned out beforehand, all your new island decorative pieces were ready in your storage and you had your iPad with your mood board and notes showcasing your detailed plans at your side as well. Everything was going as planned. Your character was also wearing the perfect custom-designed dress for the occasion. It's a long, flowing white sundress with blue accents that you've paired with the cutest white platform heels. It always makes you giggle to see your character wearing the construction hat with such a cute dress — it adds so much charm.
As 'Polyphemus' begins to play, you shudder and press your lips into a thin line. This is the point where everything begins to change for Odysseus and your heart drops every time. However, you're reminded of the recent fanfic you read and hope the author takes the time to write a follow-up where the characters change their fates for the better. You adore them all so much; you want everyone to have their happy endings, especially Odysseus.
Focusing back on your island, you're finally happy with the layout and bring out your wooden shed to begin decorating, pulling things directly from your storage. However, where the storage menu should be showing, there's only a black screen.
"What's happening?" you ask yourself and press the buttons of your Nintendo switch randomly, confused at the suddenly unresponsive screen, "I thought this was fully charged...?" just as you begin to manoeuvre out of your curled-up seating, a sudden lightheadedness washes over you, making your eyes squint in confusion before you're finally pulled into the same darkness as your screen.
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Odysseus etches the image of his wife and son's faces into the forefront of his mind. They've been his anchor throughout the ten-year war with Troy and now that they've won and are on their way back home, he needs them more than anything —especially now that he knows the potential future ahead. Determined to avoid such anguish, Odysseus, commands his entire fleet to avoid following the birds despite their dwindling food stores. Having also witnessed their potential future, his men readily oblige.
It was comforting to see that his bond with the crew had not suffered in the aftermath of the blessing they were witnesses to. Rather, they were moved by his struggles and his vengeance against Posideon, honouring every member with six hundred strikes. Their captain had made a god bleed for them, they dare not betray such a man. The musical was a moving epic that gave them the exact map to avoid if they wanted to reach home safely.
"I'll make it home soon, I promise," Odysseus promised his loving wife, remembering the love and worry in her beautiful eyes. They were the same eyes he had fallen for, soaked in a familiar affection that only seemed to grow after witnessing their potential future. Nothing had changed. She still loved him and that was a huge comfort.
"I know... I love you," he replies with a searing kiss, desperate and messy after ten years apart. Pulling away, he looks fondly at his son who looks at him with admiration and love thinly veiled by worry. Looking at Telemachus felt like looking into a mirror, all except for the eyes he shared with his mother. His son had the same head of wild hair as his own, the same strong nose and straight brows as his own.
"I don't want you to go yet..." there were unshed tears in his son's quiet plea and Odysseus had to pull his ten-year-old son into a bone-crushing hug.
"I won't be long. I know what to do now. I'll get home soon," Odysseus promises into his son's crown and presses a firm kiss through his brown curls. Pulling away, he stares fondly into Telemachus' eyes, his beautiful son. Had he ever seen a boy so perfect before? Only his wife could create such beauty and perfection, "Take care of your mother while I'm away,"
Telemachus launches himself into his father's arms once again, burying his face into his strong shoulder, "Always, father,"
That final interaction has been replaying in Odysseus' mind ever since he returned to the boat he and his crew had suddenly been swept away from. It felt like so much time had passed but they were returned to the exact location and time they were first taken from. What an experience that had been. A blessing and a curse all at once. To bear witness to such a horrific future was harrowing but Odysseus would take it as a lesson learned. He won't risk the life of his best friends nor his crew ever again. They had survived the war against Troy, all 600 of them; they should be able to return home unharmed.
"Odysseus, my friend," Polites' familiar voice calls to him, bright and merry but with a heavy weight upon it. He understands the reason without needing to ask.
"Polities," they greet each other with a smile, "I know you're worried about our stores but we can survive without them until we find another island," Polities doesn't protest but nods in understanding. There's a pause that stretches on but not in discomfort. The two merely absorb the moment, comforted by the knowledge that they have avoided a massive turning point in their journey.
"We are here for you, my friend. All I wanted was to make that clear," Polites looks at the crew rowing at the paddles, keeping a leisurely pace. "We are loyal to you, our captain, who has led us to victory after ten years," Odysseus smiles and nods demurely at his best friend in silent appreciation, "that future has not happened yet, nor will it ever happen. I know that you will make sure of that."
"If the crew should ever act up, we will be there," Eurylachous steps up to the two of them with a somewhat hesitant air, his posture stiff. Events of the mutiny he led against his brother-in-law and friend had not been able to leave his mind ever since his first viewing. The tall second commander shudders to think of himself ever becoming the shrivelled-up, hungry, desperate and vengeful man who dared go against the captain he had first betrayed by opening the windbag. He was determined to avoid such a fate. What a sorry fool he had turned out to be. It was unbecoming and he had since been congested with guilt.
Odysseus and Eurylochus silently take in the other. Eurylachous with a boulder of guilt in the pit of his stomach as Odysseus wears an unreadable expression. They were supposed to be brothers, friends, comrades. The people they had become in that future were not them now, and it will never be them. Ctimene's face appears in his mind. They share a similar goal; to return home, to the wives they adore and had fought the grueling war for.
The tension is broken by Odysseus who brings his arms up to wrap around their shoulders and pull them close, "Thank you, my friends," All three share a smile and savour the bond they share. It was one they valued all the more now that they knew of their potential fates, and it was a bond they were unwilling to sever. If they could make it out of Troy victorious after ten years of conflict, they could easily protect each other and the friendship they share. "We will make it home. I swear it."
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
It had been several days and yet, there was no island on the horizon, meaning no food to hunt and feed his men. Odysseus' mind was reeling. This cannot be. Surely there would be some kind of island they could set anchor nearby. After taking the proper steps to avoid the worst future they could possibly think of, had Odysseus inadvertently condemned his men to a much more painful and agonising fate? Slowly, his men across all 12 ships had stopped rowing; they no longer had the energy. And the winds were close to nonexistent, providing no aide to his fleet's sails. Should they have docked at the Cyclops' island anyway but made a proper plan to steal the sheep instead? But that was too high of a risk, and everyone agreed that it was not worth it. What tragic luck was this? Was his crew doomed to never return home alive with him as their captain? Was the miracle they were blessed with a waste, now that he had given the wrong command?
A headache begins to hammer at his temples and Odysseus groans, the rumbling in his stomach and the painful ache rippling from it was unquenchable. The image of his hauntingly starved self and crew flashes in his mind. The world seemed determined to make him suffer, though there was no god to blame; he had given the command to avoid the Cyclops' island altogether — this was his fault.
"Captain!" Elpenor's— their youngest crew member —shout brings him out of his spiralling thoughts and directs his, as well as everyone's attention to a wooden structure that had suddenly appeared on their boat.
"What is that?"
"This wasn't in that musical,"
"How did it get on our ship?"
Looking around, it appears as though this was unique to their ship only as none of the other 11 ships were causing the same chaotic murmuring as the one Odysseus was aboard. Of course. It had to be the captain's ship this strange phenomenon occurs on.
"It has a door, should we look inside?" Polites comments, reaching for the handle only to be stopped by Odysseus.
"Let me open it," he turns to everyone else and loudly commands that they step back and prepare for what may come from opening the door. After taking a slow breath in and slowly releasing, Odysseus finally flings the door back and jumps to the side as a body falls in a heap at his feet.
The crowd circle the figure and are shocked to find a woman. She looks foreign with clothes they have never seen before. Where had she come from? Odysseus looks back at the slim wooden structure to find it already closed. Polites was the first to kneel beside her, cradling her head and gently urging the strange woman awake.
"Polites, step away from her!" Odysseus commands as Eurylochus unsheaths his large sword and prepares for a potential threat.
"She looks harmless, Captain,"
"That's no excuse to let your guard down," Odysseus snaps, flashes of another dark future playing in his mind. Had avoiding one grizzly fate led to another, darker one?
Polities gives him a judging look, "Open arms, Captain," his best friend wasn't getting the point. Although Odysseus was appreciative of his friend's boundless optimism, he wasn't going to take any chances.
"Just keep your distance, we don't know how much of a threat she is until she's awake. And if she is a threat, you'll be the first in her way of attack!" Odysseus' words don't even allow a single drop of doubt to taint Polites' determined stare.
"Wait look! She's waking up!" Eurylochus points his sword and gets into a familiar, battle stance, ready to pounce.
"Polities! Get. Back!"
⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖
Groaning, you turn away from the harsh lighting shining down on you and nuzzle into a comforting warmth.
"It's alright, Captain," a distant voice assures, the shouting that follows only pushing you into the comfortable warmth further, unknowing of the effect your innocent action has on the individual currently holding your head in his lap. "She means no harm," you then feel gentle pats over your head as the same kind voice urges you awake, "Hey there... can you wake up for us?"
Propelled to respect the kind and gentle stranger's request, you brave against the harsh sun and will your eyes open. Blinking rapidly, you adjust to the world around you as you're helped to a sitting position. You part your lips to ask what's going on but no sound comes out and your confusion is evident on your face.
"Hi there," a warm face greets you, pushing away the confusion and worry at your sudden muteness. Gazing at the man before you, you can't help but lean in with interest. His face feels familiar and you're drawn to the curiosity of it. He wears square glasses and adorns rich, chestnut curls that fall over a headband. His skin is sunkissed and a little sunken into his angular bone structure, which makes you worry slightly, he doesn't look healthy at all. He looks starved. "Uhh.." Polites smiles shyly as you reach up to cup his cheek with furrowed brows, "My name is Polites, can you tell us who you are, fair maiden?"
You finally register the murmurs surrounding you and mutely gasp when you realise you're surrounded by a circle of men, dressed in clothes typical of ancient Greek times. Everyone had the same sunken, unhealthy appearance as Polites. What was happening?
"My friend asked you a question. Answer him at once!" a cold metal touches the underside of your chin and you're forced to look up the body of a large sword and into the eyes of another recognisable figure. Eurylochus.
This can't be...
Shaking your head in disbelief and denial of the situation, you fall back into Polites' arms, who sternly waves away his dark-skinned friend. "Sheath your sword, friend, she means no harm..." Polites' arms circle you but he doesn't pull you further into him, leaving space for breath between your body and his own. It was more comforting than you anticipated as you press your face into his shoulder, trying to deny the reality you were in right now. "Captain, Odysseus, please,"
A sigh draws your attention away from Polites' shoulder and towards a broad-shouldered man with bronze skin, dark, wavy hair and an imposing air of confidence and charm about him. Distinguishing him from the rest, he wears a purple cloak that's secured with a gold pin on his shoulder; he's the captain. Odysseus. Are you in the EPIC: The Musical Universe? Is this a dream?
"...if she meant to do harm, she would have done so already. Sheath your sword, friend," Odysseus nods towards Eurylochus' sword.
"Yes Captain," the second in command readily complies.
Finally breathing in relief, you turn back to Polites and take his hand into both of yours to shake happily in greeting. The solid feeling on his hand makes this feel less and less like a dream, which makes you all the happier that they don't see you as a threat anymore. Otherwise, you would have become fish food. However, dream or reality, you were going to live this to the fullest as an EPIC fan. Your actions make the crowd release the tension in their shoulders. A handshake is a sign of peace and shows the absence of a weapon in one's hands; Polites was right to believe in your innocence.
"Haha! See, Captain?" Polites smiles at Odysseus, who shakes his head in disbelief but smiles regardless. Trust Polites, to make such quick friends, "May we know your name?" Polites asks after returning his attention to you. Frowning sadly, you shake your head and tap against your throat. You go as far as to part your lips and attempt to speak but nothing comes out. "Can you... can you not talk?"
You shake your head in confirmation and miss the sadness shared between the men surrounding you both. "How should we address you then?" Odysseus asks aloud and you shrug your shoulders. You don't really mind how they refer to you, so long as it wasn't hurtful.
"As long as it's of no offence to you, can we call you by any name?" Polites asks, to which you readily nod and he smiles before thinking deeply, "How about we refer to you as fair maiden? It's simple and you're the only maiden here so, everyone will easily know it's you," without complaints, you nod and hear a murmur of the nickname amongst the group make its rounds; the crew testing the name for themselves. It makes you smile shyly. Although you love the main characters, you always adored the background vocals of the crew and to hear their murmurings was a little flustering.
"How did you get here? Do you know?" Odysseus takes a knee beside you and you try not to look visibly awestruck by the closeness, "You fell out of that thing," the captain points towards a familiar, slim wooden shed. It looks exactly like the shed you failed to access the contents of before you blacked out on Animal Crossing. Curiously, you stand and make your way over to the shed, the crowd parting and staring with interest as you do so.
Opening the door, a familiar storage menu screen finally reveals itself to you. And it's full to the brim with all of your collected items from Animal Crossing. From the curious but unruffled looks in the crowd surrounding you, it doesn't seem as though they can see the storage screen and you immediately close the shed door to shake your head 'no' at Odysseus, who looks disappointed but has no choice but the accept the unsatisfactory news. However, his expression lightens when his eyes drift upwards.
The Captain turns to his men and sends them to their stations at the oars, "Follow those birds, no matter how far they may lead us, it will be towards land. We have another mouth to feed so full speed ahead!" his words make your eyes widen and rush forward with your arms outstretched, waving your hands side to side and shaking your head — a clear expression against his command. In the distance, you can tell that Odysseus' fleet is still composed of its full 12 ships so he will be leading them to Polyphemus' island, where everything will take a turn for the worst and you don't think you're capable of going through such horrors first hand.
Odysseus narrows his eyes at you, "What do you mean 'no'?" he pauses for thought, "...do you know about the Cyclops too?" you're shocked at his words. How could he know about the Cyclops if he has yet to set foot on the island? And if he's already done so, why was Polites still alive?
You nod slowly. You do know about the Cyclops...
"We're long past the Cyclops' island, days past it, in fact," he looks at you with caution, "...how do you know about the Cyclops?" Naturally, being unable to speak, you can't explain your circumstances articulately but that was no longer satisfactory for the captain. Odysseus looks you up and down, taking in the unusual attire clothing you. It doesn't look like any garments he has ever seen before. It's a beautiful garment he would love to see on his wife but its unfamiliar style raises his suspicions, "What are you doing here? Are you another test from the gods? They promised not to interfere with my journey home unless I make the same mistakes as in that musical's future!" your eyes widen at his words and you make the slow realisation that you're not only in the universe of EPIC but specifically in the aftermath of the reaction fanfic you had just finished reading. You remember hoping the author would continue with a series that has the characters taking active steps to avoid their tragic fates.
The hostility being raised against you, from the Captain, no less, didn't bode well, however, so you rush back to your shed. You don't know why you have your animal crossing storage shed but you were going to use it. It may be your only way of expressing your peacefulness without a voice.
Opening the storage once more, you search through the categorised panels and select a basket of bread with your finger. The instant it's selected, the basket of freshly baked bread appears in your arms and you turn to Odysseus with a smile, outstretching the offering as a token of your peaceful intentions.
Odysseus stares at your offering of bread with a dropped jaw, similar to the one Eurylochus was displaying. How could you have been able to store freshly baked bread in such an innocuous structure? It was Polites who jumped forward with a shout of glee, "Fresh bread! My friends, look!" His words draw the attention of the crew from where they're actively rowing the oars. The sight of food makes them stop and slowly approach with grumbling stomachs, eyes wide and mouths watering. The closer they get, the more potent the smell of fresh bread becomes and there's a chorus of grumbling stomachs surrounding you. "Is this for us?" Polites looks at you with a smile that widens when you nod in affirmation.
"Wait! You take the first bite," Eurylochus insists, cautious after witnessing their encounter with Circe. The rest of the crew heed his words and reel back as if subjected to an electric shock. They had almost forgotten the cautionary tale of the musical. Everyone now watches you with judging eyes. Taking no offence, you select a small bun and bite into it with a grin. Everyone around you watches with bated breath but cheers when you swallow and there are no negative side effects. Food! Finally!
"Thank you," Polites nods at you with a grateful smile before distributing the basket to the crew members. Behind him, Odysseus is left speechless but soon meets your eyes with a similarly grateful expression. He and Eurylochous nod in thanks, which you bow in return to. The tension between you had fully evaporated. The crew do their best to evenly ration out the bread but a singular basket won't be enough so you return to your storage shed and bring out more baskets of bread that you have saved up, grateful that cooking recipes was one of your favourite things to do on the game.
"You have more food?" Odysseus voices beside you, suddenly very close and you nod with a bright smile, handing him another basket of fresh, warm bread. It appears as though, no matter how long it's been since you've cooked the recipe, it comes out fresh and warm. You have five baskets of fresh bread circulating amongst the crew now and see if other recipes also come out freshly cooked. With a silent hum, you select the minestrone soup and out comes a deep ceramic bowl with hot, appetising soup filling it to the brim. Like in the game, the portion looks enormous in your hands and looks capable of feeding more than one person. This will go perfectly with the bread and you leave your shed to hand the bowl of soup to a small circle of men sharing a bread basket. They're in awe of your offering and thank you endlessly, eagerly dipping their bread into the soup and savouring the delicious taste of food after days without. With a wide smile, you turn around and reach for Polites, who happily follows you back to your shed to help distribute more bowls of soup.
"How does that thing work?" Eurylochus reaches out to the shed once all the food has been distributed but you quickly block his way and shake your head. Suddenly tense, Eurylochus nods and firmly turns away, his hand safely back at his side, "Understood..." This wasn't a windbag but he wasn't going to make the same, silly mistake as he did in that musical. Never. He's just happy the crew and himself finally have some food to eat, the birds and a distant island without a Cyclops long forgotten.
"Thank you for your help," Odysseus walks up to you with a charming grin that you happily return, a warmth blooming in your chest at being able to help one of your favourite characters get home. Your easygoing, happy nature is very reminiscent of Polites and the Captain finds himself an easy victim to your warm and comforting presence, willing to follow your optimistic nature. Looking back at his smiling, feasting crew, he breathes a sigh of relief and bites into a round loaf he managed to take for himself as the bread baskets made their rounds. "Do you happen to have more food?" he suddenly asks, nervous of your response. "I have 550 more men to feed across eleven other boats," he tilts his head towards the rest of his fleet, closely following his ship. Odysseus was ashamed to ask so much from one person but felt an immense feeling of relief when he turned to see your kind smile and warm gaze. It's as if you were saying 'Of course, I do', eager to offer your help.
"You have more food, fair maiden?" Polites cheers, eagerly volunteering to help escort you onto the other ships for a delivery of food.
You shake your head but hold up a finger, wordlessly asking them to wait patiently. The 50 men of this boat had eaten all of the bread and soup you had stored so you had to make more from the crops and ingredients you had stored. All you needed to do was bring out your small kitchenette. Hopefully, game mechanics still apply when cooking and you'll have enough food to feed the 550 hungry men left of Odysseus' fleet. Returning to your storage, you easily bring out your kitchenette and follow the recipe for making more bread baskets and minestrone soup. It was easy enough, especially after realising that all you needed to access your personal storage without the shed was to think of it and it would readily appear for your eyes only.
While you were hard at work making more bread baskets and soup, you urged Polites, Eurylochus and Odysseus to sit down and eat calmly. They had been watching you the entire time, jaws dropped in awe and eyes gleaming with admiration, their hearts beating with hope and almost brought to tears at being given yet another miracle. They were going to make it home after all!
It took some time to make the first few baskets and soups for about five ships but, by that time the crew had already devoured their share and all eyes were back on you. Feeling shy, you convince them to focus their attention elsewhere by offering dessert via oranges. From living in the modern world, you know all about scurvy so oranges are the perfect fruit to offer; you make a mental note of bringing some oranges with you to the other ships too. The crew were delighted and eagerly devoured the abnormally large oranges you handed them. They were the perfect sweetness and were so juicy, that many who finished their share were left licking the juice from their fingers. They feel thoroughly fed, and, although it was a mere helping of bread, soup and orange, it felt like a feast fit for a king. Odysseus attested to that sentiment.
"Is she a descendant of the Goddess of Harvest? The Goddess Demeter?"
"She must be,"
"No, she was sent to us as a divine intervention. She must have been sent by Hermes."
"But look at the orange she gave us, it's the biggest, most delicious and perfect orange I have ever seen. She must be a descendant of the God of orchards and fruit, Dionysus."
"We are lucky to have her, she must have been sent by the Goddess Tyche of luck."
Many of the crew members begin to speculate your origins, with some raising their voices above the others, their words coming out more clearly. But you were none of those things. You can't even begin to explain how you got here and it isn't as though you could even attempt to voice any kind of explanation. It's quite flattering that they think so highly of you— enough to relate you to the gods and goddesses —but if any good person was capable of offering help then they would do so without regard for what it may cost them. And that was what you were doing. You were only doing what any good person would do. It's just your luck that you happen to have the same skills and itinerary as your ACNH character. The only unfortunate thing is that you were made mute because of it too –at least most seem to understand what you want to say by paying attention to your actions and movements, much like your villagers.
To distract from their high-praising musings, however, you get busy cooking enough food for the 550 other men left to feed, quickly filling up your personal storage after you had emptied it of the decorative pieces you originally wanted to dot around your revamped island. Once finally done, you turn to Odysseus and nod. The captain smiles widely, brushes away the orange juice from his chin and calls for a flag to be raised, signalling for the rest of his fleet to fall in line with his so that you could be escorted safely to deliver food.
"Polites and Eurylochus will escort you. They will also explain your presence to the rest of my men." Odysseus explains as you nod along and gently express that your shed doesn't need to be brought with you. Again, Eurylochus nods and backs away, calling for two men to guard the shed while they make the food delivery. In the distance, you watch the boats easily line up and a wooden plank is provided to bridge the distance between two ships. Just as you are being led away by Polites. Odysseus calls out to you, "Fair maiden," he bows at the waist, the rest of the crew following close after, bowing deeply and sincerely, "Thank you,"
When the crew and Odysseus finally look up, they are greeted by your bright, close-eyed smile and the faint outline of pink and yellow flowers in the air surrounding your face. You're a beauty, a kind embodiment of mercy bestowed upon them in their hour of need and they dare not take you for granted.
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next | two : the favourable circumstance
a/n : I hope you darlings enjoyed the read! I'm leaving this small passion project open to continuation as I do have more plans for it (Perimedes and Elpenor will make an appearance in the next chapter, for sure!) but nothing is set for how many chapters that would entail. This series will probably be pretty short but will definitely end happily ٩(^ᗜ^ )و '-
Please feel free to tell me your thoughts and what you may want to see happen. Who knows, I might be inspired to include your own daydreams ヾ(。✪ω��。)シ
#epic the musical#epic the musical x reader#epic the musical fanart#epic odysseus#epic polites#epic eurylochus#isekai au#acnh au#reader insert#female reader#epic the musical x you
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The Abyss Of Affection
Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Summary: Aemond discovers the book his sweet wife has been obsessed with and after reading one of the scenes, a plan begins to formulate (fluff)
This was inspired by a conversation I had with the wonderful Hannah @gwaynesprincess
House of the Dragon Masterlist
Taglist
Warnings: Allusions to smut
Word Count: 2308
Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics
Not entirely show canon as Jaehaerys is alive, Maelor exists and people are happy
Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)
His calculated footsteps echoed in the hallways of the keep’s royal chambers, following the elder of the King’s brothers - Prince Aemond Targaryen - back to his chambers after an incredibly taxing day filled with fulfilling duties that were not his own and patrolling the city atop his beloved Vhagar, the Queen of all Dragons. Many would argue a dragon fit for a true king, Aemond would agree. Finally rounding the corner, he greeted the familiar face of Ser Steffon giving a cordial nod as he made his way through the doors of his chambers, removing his cloak as he went.
The sight that greeted the prince was not surprising yet still brought a small, fond smile to his face. Laying on her side of the feather bed was his sweet wife curled up under the various blankets spread across the bed to combat the chill in the air as the citadel switched black ravens to white and summer turned to winter. Aemond made quick work of stripping out of his leathers and into a loose night shirt and breeches ready to join his wife in slumber.
Just as he was about to blow out the candles beside where they lay, he noticed a book beneath the blankets next to his sweet wife’s sleeping form. He picked it up ready to place it on the small table on her side of the bed before taking a look at the title and realising it was the book that had so often stolen her attention away from him during the nights they spent together before the fire. The prince’s insatiable curiosity, it seems, also extended to what on earth his sweet wife could be reading in the non-academic books she so loves.
Flipping over to one of the pages he remembers her completely raving about with her lady in waiting, he began to read and as he continued, a plan began to formulate.
She was met by a chorus of “good morrow, Princess” to which she responded with decidedly less vigour and an almost petulant expression as she discovered that her husband was in fact not in their shared chambers. This prompted the other ladies in the room to barely suppress their giggles knowing how not seeing her husband in the mornings can dampen her mood - not that the Prince fairs any better himself.
“Do any of you happen to know where my dear lord husband is at such an hour?” she discontentedly drawled.
The handmaidens exchanged uneasy glances with one another which, of course, did not escape her watchful gaze and she probed further with a single raise of an eyebrow. Silence ensued for a couple of very awkward, tension-filled seconds until the Princess’ lady in waiting - Elaena - stepped closer and stated that “we are not at liberty to say, Princess,” adding a slight curtsy at the end.
Again silence ensued only interrupted by her own chortle “what in the name of the seven do you mean ‘not at liberty’, forgive me but I am utterly confused.”
“I’m afraid Prince Aemond has forbidden us to speak of it Princess and he reminded us that if you demanded… well Princess he said for us to remember that his orders outrank yours,” Elaena hesitantly explained, shoulders visibly tense at her admission.
An even longer silence commenced, this one not so easily interrupted. Instead the Princess slightly nodded her head and proceeded to load some fresh fruits onto her plate before biting into a strawberry that was surprisingly ripe given the season. She sat with a contemplative look on her face, her ladies worried she was deeply hurt when really she was wondering what the best way to punish him would be, perhaps…
She was pulled from her musings by a knock on the chamber doors which one of the handmaidens - Lyla - was quick to answer. She carried a written message delivered by a page boy and with mild curiosity the Princess unravelled it and began to read.
She then very calmly got up, retreating to the sitting chambers with her beloved book and instructed her handmaidens to leave her, and on their way to “inform Prince Aemond that if he wishes to have an audience he may do so in our private chambers, I am not a dog to be called to heel and told to wait in the dragon pit until he finally chooses to descend from the sky”.
Suddenly Queen Helaena turned to look directly into the Princess’ eyes causing her to startle. Helaena grasped her arms in a gentle hold and decided that “you will be very happy with it,” and while not always understanding but being kind to Helaena’s ways, the Princess confidently nodded in affirmation.
“I’m certain I will be sister,” followed by a soft squeeze of the Queen’s hands she quickly let go to ensure she didn’t crowd the gentle soul beside her.
Turning her attention to Maelor, the youngest of the King and Queen’s children, she scooped him into her arms and brought him to her lap where she proceeded to grab the second less than perfect dragon (Daeron’s first attempt) and began to play with him. Entirely encompassed by the babe's soft giggles she failed to notice the shadow of her husband nor feel the piercing but fond gaze he stared at the two of them with - giving him a few ideas of his own.
Finally sensing his presence, his sweet wife turned towards him and pinned him with a markedly less than sweet gaze. After returning Maelor to his mother, the princess stood, brushed off her dress, said her goodbyes to the children with the promise of visiting again soon, squeezed Helaena’s hand and strode straight past her dear husband without so much as a look in his direction.
Aemond Targaryen, the incredibly formidable man that he is, immediately turned and followed (and after speaking with her lady in waiting) trailed a step behind knowing that if he got any closer he may well be subject to a more physical attack.
“Sweet wife - ,” his mouth slammed shut, the sound of his teeth clacking together audible as she turned around to face him and he thanked the seven that they’d at least made it to the hall outside their chambers to give a small amount of privacy.
“How can I be of service to my Prince? Shall I draw you a bath, change your linens, perhaps wash them too? After all, your commands should certainly be obeyed by all who rank lower than you lord husband!” and Aemond’s moment of stunned silence was all she needed to turn and push the door to their chambers open, her hair almost whipping Aemond in the face. After clearing his throat and righting his already perfectly placed doublet, the prince followed after his wife. This time the nod to Ser Steffon was slightly more stiff and definitely less cordial.
Upon entering their chambers, it became apparent that his sweet wife was just getting started on his torture as she began shedding her day clothes to ready herself for dinner that night as it had become customary for the royal family to dine together per the Dowager Queen Alicent’s request. As he walked in she turned to look at him, again raising a single eyebrow, a silent demand for him to explain himself and explain he did - after he managed to bring his eye back up to meet hers.
Aemond nervously began to describe how he had to go patrol the city earlier than expected that morrow and after his wife’s further probing he let out a sigh as he admitted that he was hiding something from her but he insisted she could not know. Instead he decided to avert her attention by apologising for his blunt and insensitive instructions, insisting his mind was incredibly preoccupied and he meant none of it.
After a beat, his sweet wife looked back up at him and simply agreed that it was foolish of him before continuing to prepare herself for dinner. With the guilt still weighing down on him, Aemond tried once more to draw a further reaction from her and informed her that “we will not be dining with the family tonight, my heart, it shall just be the two of us so please do not feel obligated to wear something that will placate my mother”. The huff of air Aemond let out could have rivalled Vhagar’s as his Princess finally met his eye and gave a smile of her own.
The Princess very quickly decided that she would never again allow her husband to guide her through the gardens, at dusk, alone with no idea of where on earth he was going. She marvelled at how her Prince had spent the entirety of his life growing up within the walls of the keep while she had only moved here three years past when their betrothal was finalised and yet she knew the gardens a lot better than he did. They walked in silence with the occasional mumble of “I’m sure it was this way”, “perhaps it’s actually that way” and what she is sure sounded like a “seven hells this is so embarrassing”.
Eventually, the Princess abruptly stopped walking causing Aemond to turn back to look at her with wide eyes as though he was expecting her to end the night and head back into the castle (which definitely seems tempting) but instead she drew herself closer to him tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb and sweetly asked him to tell her where he wanted to go and she would lead the way. Confusion clouded her eyes when she saw her husband’s gaze darken with disappointment at not being able to keep the location secret before giving a rather reluctant nod and mumbling the area of the gardens.
This again caused her to still, as not long before setting off on their adventure she’d gotten to her favourite scene in the romance novel she was currently re-reading which described the relationship between two lovers from flea bottom snook into the castle’s garden and had a picnic beneath a section where two trees intertwined to look like a heart. She let out a small laugh at the coincidence before leading him in the direction of the garden’s that she learned the trees actually existed in when she went searching after her first time reading the book.
As they stepped through the clearing, fingers interlocked, Aemond’s sweet wife stopped dead in her tracks. The scene before her bringing an onslaught of tears to her eyes and Aemond’s own eye drank in her reaction feeling his chest expand with pride. The scene was exactly as described in the books - granted the royalty version - with a table in the middle of the clearing, the heart trees standing right before it. A small fire was lit as the air was cool and biting and she thanked the gods for giving her a husband intelligent enough to organise for a canopy to be set up over the table. Even the food was some of the meats and fresh fruit described in her book.
After taking it all in, the princess - now thankful for there being no escort - fisted her husband’s nicest leathers and brought him down for a bruising kiss, whispering thank you’s and I love you’s in between.
Aemond’s own heart was beating out of his chest as they finally pulled away from one another and he helped her into her seat before taking his own next to her, never letting go of her hand - not even when they began to eat, opting to do it with his left hand instead, and certainly not as his sweet wife moved from her own seat into his lap, playing with his hair and telling him just how wonderfully he had done.
If you asked anyone who crossed paths with the Prince and Princess that night, they’d tell you that never before had they ever encountered two individuals looking so shamelessly in love. They’d express their shock as they witnessed their Prince, the fierce rider of Vhagar, laugh freely with his lady wife with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist and the Princess’ hand rubbing up and down his back.
As the Prince once again encountered Ser Steffon, he greeted the guard with a slightly more reserved smile than his wife received and instructed him to have a good night while he ushered his giggling wife inside. Once they were out of sight Ser Steffon let out a small chuckle of his own before walking a few paces down the hall, away from the door.
As the very smitten couple climbed into bed the Prince once again asked his sweet wife if everything met her standards to which she simply pulled herself up and decided on showing him how pleased she was instead - but not before ensuring the punishment she decided on earlier was carried out.
#in my fluff era (it probably won’t last long)#angst will always call me back I fear#if anyone sees any typos no you didn't 😭#darktrashsoulbear writes#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#ewan mitchell
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I would LOVE to hear more gripes about accuracy of portrayal of historical monarchies!!!
I have been wanting to do this for a while, because there is a lot that irks me. And this ranges across board from big budget period dramas to how people write royalty AUs, which means this isn't one specific thing I'm pointing at. And if it is helpful on a writing tips level, I'll be happy with that.
Long post under the cut:
Disclaimers:
I research 19th century European history, which has a lot of questions about what a monarchy is and why they continue to exist. That's the perspective I am bringing to this.
I probably shouldn't have to say this, but: this is not about modern monarchism. This is about history. I don't want to debate whether you think certain countries should continue to have their monarchs be public figures who are only nominally head of state.
The short version:
Monarchies are institutions. They are part of how the government functions and that should have implications for how someone writes them. A monarch is a person with a built in job that they were born into.
Monarchies are not all absolute. They can exist in a multiple forms with very different structures, and often discontent within a monarchy wants to reform the system not replace it.
My biggest advice would be this: figure out how your fictional or historical monarchy is structured. You don't have to exposit about it, but you do need to know it.
The long version:
The King has a job and there is a right and wrong way to do it.
Fantasy monarchies that draw upon history seem to have Versailles in mind in terms of an aesthetic space and royalty with a lot of power over the people around them. This also includes a lot of lounging around and looking pretty and doing lavish things. However, the issue is that this is a mental image of the dysfunction in the French monarchy close to the revolutions. You can't "Après moi, le déluge" through several centuries of government.
A King (or Queen) has a job, a really important one. They are the head of state, the highest authority in the country, and the highest judge on legal matters. At least in the platonic ideal of absolute monarchy, those jobs being concentrated into one person means their responsibility and good judgement will give the state stability and consistently.
Enlightened absolutism was exactly that: monarchs staunchly holding onto the ideals of the Enlightenment and making reforms from the top down. People who read texts about ideal government and natural rights and put it into practice.
A lot of fiction takes that and goes: Oh, so they have unlimited power and can do whatever they want. Being king means you can do what you want without oversight? That's why someone would want to be king?
And yeah, sure, in theory. But the problem with having a job is that you can do it poorly and people will object to you doing it poorly. If someone is not fulfilling obligations, it is noticeable because the state functions poorly. The premise of Robin Hood is that the king is doing his job poorly. He's overtaxing, the officials are corrupt, there's disorder. The solution? Bring back the true king who is good and fair, and thus functional.
Ludwig II of Bavaria gets ousted from his throne for being more interested in opera and extravagant building projects than ruling. Again, it is a problem and people notice.
Historically, if you want to protect from someone being bad at the job you can support the idea that there should be more oversight and safeguards: Other bodies that control parts of the government alongside the king's ability to approve or disapprove. This tactic takes away the ability to be arbitrary since laws and such are not just coming from the crowned head of state. That would be a constitutional monarchy.
Not everyone needs to be Franz Joseph, waking up at the crack of dawn and working on governmental papers and meetings until bedtime. However, if a monarch is shown in fiction lounging around or talking to courtiers all day but never doing any actual governing, I'm going to assume they are very bad at their job.
2. You're probably understanding Courts and Ministers wrong.
I run into the issue quite a bit that courts are flattened to random servants, ladies-in-waiting, and people trying to be the king's sole advisor (for malicious power grabbing reasons).
The first problem: Being at court isn't an easily accessible thing. You're probably nobility or a scion of an important family. Your presence is built on family prestige and your own skill. Yes, even people in service to the monarch. There are no random people here, because proximity heightens the likelihood of greater promotion.
For example, I'm currently doing my research on a prince from an important dynasty in the 19th century. His secretary is a Baron.
It's not impossible for someone not of noble birth to get to be at court. They could have risen up the ranks of the army or be an exceptionally skilled civil servant promoted to the rank of minister. Though depending on the time period, expect these "new men" to get pushback from nobility by blood.
Ministers also matter.
Unless your fictional monarch is one of the few people who decides (to mixed results) to do all of the thinking about government on their own, there is a cabinet and ministers.
These are skilled people whose job is to think about aspects of government and be knowledgeable about them. A monarch might have many of them that argue and balance each other.
Or, you can write a particularly skilled statesman in a leading role that makes them just as prominent as the monarch if not more so. There are many historical examples of ministers who define their period:

If your monarch character isn't a strong person politically, but is intelligent, having them find a minister to take over most of the governing is a good idea. This person is promoted based on merit, even if the monarchy is hereditary.
I have rarely if ever seen fiction do a good job with a prominent minister as a character (except A Royal Affair, which everyone should watch).
Think of monarchies as whole institutions of government. They have people within them who do all the jobs of governing. But the structure of the government and the personality of the monarch can determine whether it is one person (Joseph II, Peter the Great, etc.), a prominent minister (like a Metternich or Bismarck) or a counsel or congress.
The structure can support a person not doing a lot as monarch, but you as a writer need to think what structures are around them allowing that.
3. Revolutions are scary.
There is a common trend in fiction to make your good guys pro-republic. They're revolutionaries who want to get rid of the king, so they must be good.
But here's the thing: Revolutions are a step into the unknown and have historically happened rather rarely and with very mixed results. That's because the system has to be really broken for something totally new to sound better than what you already have.
A monarchy can create a sense of stability: A fixed head of state who will be there until they die. Historically, people aren't seeking to change that. More often, the call is for a change within the existing structure. The Magna Carta or a written Constitution. Firing of Bad Ministers or the abdication of a bad king in favor of their heir. Creating elected bodies under the sovereign. These are all shifting the monarchical paradigm but keeping the monarchy intact.
And historically even the most liberal of people wanted to place restrictions of some sort on voting, especially property and gender restrictions.
There is a myriad of ways to change the system, the person at the top, or both while maintaining a monarchy. You can have a monarchy be elected as the best person among the nobility (though it didn't go that well for the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth).
Completely throwing the whole thing out means risking all stability vanishing. That could be anarchy. That could mean a charismatic strongman who is also bad at governing in power. You could end up with a guillotine and rivers of blood in the streets. You could end up with a restoration eventually because Cromwell or Robespierre doesn't actually produce something people want to live under and they want the old certainty back.
People have a sense of inertia about changing government. What you have is better than what you don't know, especially if there can be internal reform. Making your character a Republican (in the Jacobin sense, not the US politics sense) means that they are a radical in most times and places and will likely be in the minority.
If there is one thing I would say is the point here is that monarchies are government systems, and thinking through how someone exists in that system in fiction is important. Being king isn't actually much of a fun job unless you're very good at delegating or very irresponsible. Unless you want to be celebrity, president, congress, and moral center of the state all in one, being king isn't a great deal.
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Here I am again, my favorite Harry Potter fandom writer :)
I saw something on TikTok, but I lost it because the page was refreshed before I could watch the end and see the creator of the video. But it gave me an idea:
Severus Snape's daughter x Marauders (which you know my preference is always Sirius 😘)
Severus doesn't have much love for his child since Lily is not her mother, but as a father who is aware of his own family history, he makes sure that his daughter lives a relatively happy life in good conditions. She will probably have a natural talent for potions and defense against the dark arts.
In this case, I honestly didn't think how to connect her to Sirius, there would probably be an age difference problem… ah but I want to hope that my favorite author can do something about impossible love 💕❤️😍
Cora! ❤︎ This did become an age-gap fic (approx. 16 years between reader and Sirius). I spent so much time on HP wiki trying to figure out canon birth years. I set it in OotP with a post-Azkaban Sirius.
Hopefully this works for impossible love ❤︎ I mean, Sirius is always gonna hate Severus but that doesn't mean Sirius can't love his daughter!
Snape Spawn
Sirius Black x Snape!reader
part two, part three
6.7k words
cw: age gap!, Y/N, pining?, snog, fluff if you squint
In the aftermath of losing Lily for calling her a mudblood, Severus became a pathetic mess. He lived more and more inside of his head just to survive. When he went home for the summer, he didn’t have the respite of Lily’s company when his parents became too much. To put it shortly and concisely, he found comfort in some girl’s arms, a girl also tempted by Voldemort’s preaching.
When he returned to Hogwarts in the fall, she wrote to him. He was going to be a father.
The girl didn’t survive much past your birth. Your grandparents took care of you for a few years, until they reached an age where they were unfit to do so. They returned you to Severus, being that he was now of age and able to fulfil his role of father.
He did so, although not gratefully.
You were raised in a tolerable home. Severus knew he couldn’t bring up a child in a home similar to the one he was raised in, so he did his best to ensure that you were happy. He found himself wishing you were the offspring of Lily, rather than some girl who would’ve joined the ranks of Voldemort. He kept you in the dark when he did join the Death Eaters. You were to be protected.
When Voldemort fell and Severus became a double agent, you were still unaware of everything. He took a job at Hogwarts as the Potions master, per Dumbledore’s request. You were watched over by a couple in Hogsmeade while he worked.
When you came of age, you attended Hogwarts, being sorted into Slytherin. Some people immediately questioned if Severus was fair when grading your assignments for his class; you had only received O’s from him. Despite your high grades across the board, next highest being Defense Against the Dark Arts, there was enough suspicion for Dumbledore to step in. When the headmaster deemed that your work was exceptional and far above the rest of your peers, the concerns settled down.
Your expertise in potion making rivaled that of your fathers, as did your passion for it. You made plenty of extra potions in your spare time. You had a complete collection of potions in your dorm. You would sell some for non-academic purposes, the most popular being various healing potions. You also supplied the veritaserum for Truth or Dares at parties. Despite being the daughter of the least-liked professor at Hogwarts, you were fairly well liked.
After you graduated, you opened an Apothecary in Diagon Alley. You and Severus spoke less and less. As he saw it, you were no longer his responsibility. And really, you weren’t. You didn’t reach out to him. Just the occasional letter to him at Christmas and his birthday and you received a letter on yours.
Then you got a letter from Severus that confused you. It said ‘Happy Birthday’ but your birthday had passed and you had already received your annual letter. There was something else off about the letter: several words were misspelled. Out of curiosity, you wrote down the correct letters and it spelled out a potion. It was one you always had in stock, although it was particularly difficult to brew. You knew it was a long shot and probably wouldn’t do anything, but you took the potion and poured it over the letter.
A short message appeared at the bottom.
Danger lies ahead. Meet me.
And then an address appeared with instructions.
You were quite confused when you arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place. You followed the directions left for you. You were even more confused when after you knocked on the door, you heard screaming from inside and then Remus Lupin opened the door.
“Erm, Professor?” you asked.
He stepped aside and let you in.
“Snape, she’s here!” he yelled down the hallway and then up the stairs, “Someone shut that portrait up!”
“Y/N,” Severus said, standing in the doorway at the end of the hallway. “You came.”
You held out the letter before saying deadpan, “It’s not my birthday.”
You looked past your father into a kitchen filled with people. Most of them were adults older than you, closer to your father’s age and older. Nymphandora Tonks was probably the person closest to your age. You looked back at Severus.
“What is this? What danger-?” you started to ask.
“Bring the girl in, we’ll fill her in with the door shut, please,” a firm, female voice said from within the kitchen.
Severus turned and you followed him into the kitchen, along with Remus. You recognized Molly and Arthur Weasley from graduation. You were in the same year as Percy, who was absent. The only other people you recognized were McGonagall and Mad-Eye Moody, from his picture in the paper.
You took a seat at the table and crossed your arms. You were waiting for an answer.
“So this is your spawn, Snivelly?” a smooth voice said from the end of the table that had been out of view from the door.
You turned your head to see Remus sit down next to Sirius Black. He looked more sane and put together than he did in all of his mug shots that littered the Daily Prophet two years ago.
“Merlin, when did you sire her? She’s older than Harry,” Sirius continued, eyeing you up and down.
It only made you narrow your eyes at him. The arrogance that he emanated didn’t sit well with you. You had a feeling that you weren’t going to like him, no matter how handsome you were beginning to think he was.
“None of your business,” Severus snarled, taking the seat next to you and putting himself between you and Sirius.
“She’s of age. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t be about to tell her about the Order,” Remus said.
The way that Remus looked at Sirius told you that Sirius would be filled in on you later. Remus had been one of your favorite professors at Hogwarts. It certainly helped that he taught your favorite subject and did a much better job at it than Lockhart did. Severus had warned you the moment Remus was hired that he was a werewolf. He had made you promise to remain in your dorm during full moons. Even with his Wolfsbane potion, Severus wanted Remus nowhere near you.
“The Order? Is someone going to explain? I had to close up shop early,” you said as you looked around the table.
“The Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore founded it when You-Know-Who first rose to power. And now that he’s back…” Arthur said. “Arthur Weasley, by the way.”
“So he is… he is back?” you asked, looking at your father for confirmation.
He nodded.
“We fought him once and we’ll fight him again,” Moody said gruffly.
You folded your hands in front of you. You swallowed thickly, once again looking from person to person around the room.
“Where do I come into this?” you asked quietly.
“They want you to join,” Severus said. “They assumed you’d want to fight. Particularly, Lupin.”
You leaned forward to get a clear look at Remus and cocked an eyebrow when you made eye contact.
“You’re a talented witch, Y/N. You’ll want to be on the right side of this,” Remus said.
You thought about the idea of fighting. If Voldemort really was back, you knew there would be another war brewing and which side you would support.
“How do I help? What do I need to do?”
“Told you she’d agree,” Remus told Severus, a smirk appearing on his face.
Mad-Eye and Arthur went into a deeper discussion about what the Order did, how secretive they needed to be, how they would communicate with you. Remus added a random comment here and there. You nodded as you listened intently. You gave Severus the occasional glance but he sat with a stoney expression. Beyond him, Sirius watched you with an amused look that you didn’t like. In your opinion, this meeting of the Order was no place for an expression like that.
After the delegation of assignments and missions, Molly looked at you and said, “You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like.”
“Oh, um, I don’t know…”
Severus put his hand on your shoulder, grabbing your attention.
“I’ll see you at the next meeting,” he said before disappearing out of the kitchen.
You briefly turned your head to watch him leave. You chuckled to yourself. Typical.
“Meeting’s over?” Hermione asked, entering the kitchen.
“Mum, what is for dinner?” Ron added, following her.
You and Molly moved to the side to allow for the new people entering and the members leaving. Then two pops could be heard from the hallway before Fred and George came in. Their eyes locked in on you.
“Snape! Long time!” George called, wearing a grin that matched his twin’s.
“Weasley one and two. How’d you two survive last year without me?”
“Dreadful. Had to find a new way into the Slytherin Common Room,” Fred answered. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“I guess I am now. Didn’t know you were here.”
“Wow, we rank that high?” Fred asked, giving you a wink and earning an eye roll from you.
“You rank because you funded the first few months of my shop’s rent,” you deadpanned before breaking into a smile. “And I want to know why you needed so many wiggenwelds.”
As the people in the kitchen shifted, you found yourself sat at the table again. This time, as you sat across from the twins with Tonks to your left, you felt older, less like the child in the room. Arthur, Molly, Remus and Sirius were the only other members of the Order who remained.
You turned to Tonks and muttered, “I thought this was going to be more of a… Order meal.”
She shook her head and gave Molly a weary glance. You both knew you weren’t supposed to talk about Order stuff around the younger kids, but you thought it was safe enough.
“Not many stay. Molly invites them every time.”
Then the twins took over your attention. They told you about what they got up to your last year at Hogwarts when they bought healing potion after healing potion from you. They recounted the Triward Tournament and everything that happened last year. At one point, you explained to Tonks how you let the twins into the Slytherin Common Room on several occasions so that they could prank some of your more foul housemates.
Sirius wouldn’t admit it, but he was listening intently to your conversation and stealing momentary glances of you.
Some time after you left and everyone had dispersed throughout the house, Remus sat with Sirius in the drawing room.
“When did you find out Snivellus had a kid?” Sirius asked.
“When her name appeared on my roster.”
“You taught her? And you didn’t tell me?”
“I hadn’t seen you in twelve years, Padfoot. It didn’t seem important. Why do you care so much?”
Sirius didn’t answer. He didn’t know why your existence was so intriguing to him. Maybe it was the shock that Severus had actually managed to be intimate with someone. Sirius had watched you all through the meeting and then practically all dinner. Seeing you interact with Tonks and the twins, and everyone really, made it clear that you were a much different person than Severus.
“You said she’d want to join. What made you think that?”
“You remember how Severus was in school, with the dark arts?” Remus asked. “She had that same intense interest, except in Defense. Wasn’t a better student in her year. I was shocked when I heard she wasn’t going for an Auror position.”
“Didn’t she say something about a shop?”
Remus nodded. “Follows Snivy in that sense. Runs an apothecary in Diagon Alley.”
“I’m still not over that Snivellus has a kid…” Sirius muttered with a sigh.
---
Over the next few weeks, you met more and more of the Order’s members. Each meeting was a different combination of people. Molly, Arthur, Remus and Sirius were the only consistents. The Weasleys were fine, as was Remus. He insisted that you call him by his name, being that he was no longer a professor and you were no longer a student. It took time.
And then there was Sirius. This handsome man who looked at you with ever-changing expressions. One day he would be intrigued by you and the next he would be disgusted. You exchanged very few words with him. He was always on the other side of the room. And yet, your eyes often locked with his.
“Remus, we need you to come with us,” Molly called from the door. “Y/N, can you stay? We’ll need healing potions when we get back.”
“Erm, yeah. Yeah, I can stay. Is there-” you started to ask.
“Potions station? Upstairs. Have Sirius show you,” Remus said before following Molly and Arthur out of the house.
Once the door closed, you sighed. You hadn’t been on a mission yet, and you knew it was because of how young you were. It was a bit frustrating. You were of age. They asked you to be a part of the order. And here you were, staying behind to be a potioneer. Yes, you were good at it, but you were also exceptional at dueling. Remus had told you that before.
You looked around for Sirius. He wasn’t in the kitchen or anywhere on the main floor. You checked the various rooms as you ascended the stairs. You asked the Weasleys and Hermione if they’d seen him and all you got were shrugs in response. Great.
Then, with a sigh because it was so obvious, you knocked on his bedroom’s door.
“What?” his voice bellowed from inside.
“Sirius, I, erm, I need a potion station? Profess-, ahem, Remus said to ask you for it,” you said loudly to ensure your voice carried through the closed door.
There was a moment of silence before the sounds of him grumbling and getting up before he opened the door. He was more casually dressed than you had ever seen him. You were caught off guard by how effortlessly handsome he was.
“Wait in the drawing room. I’ll bring it down.”
You nodded. Sirius turned to go higher up the stairs and you went the opposite direction. You paced around the drawing room while you waited for him to return. You set up your travel package of potion ingredients. You knew that the Order had some stock, but something told you that your personal stock would be of higher quality and you preferred it when you knew where each ingredient came from. The sources could really affect the effectiveness of a potion.
You jumped when the potion station clanked through the door, followed by a string of swears from Sirius.
“Sorry, just this damn thing…”
You looked at it with a subtle gasp.
“Merlin, that’s ancient.”
Once it was in the room, you took over levitating it toward the middle of the room so you would have plenty of room to maneuver around it.
“Well, it was my parents so…” Sirius’ voice trailed off, his eyes studying your every move. “Can’t say how much it actually got used around here.”
“I keep forgetting this is your parents’ place. Must be strange to have it turned into headquarters when you grew up here.”
You started a fire and immediately went into work mode, starting a large batch of classic wiggenwelds. Sirius unceremoniously fell into a rickety armchair before getting comfortable. Surely watching you work would be more entertaining than staring at the ceiling in his room.
“Strange doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Without looking up from the cauldron, you asked, “How would you describe it then?”
“Horrible,” he said quickly. He didn’t even pause to think about it. “It’s a prison. It was when I was growing up here and it still is. Different kinds of torture, but it boils down to the same pain.”
You glanced at him through your eyelashes, only briefly as to keep the majority of your attention on the potion that was beginning to simmer. He looked utterly at ease in the chair.
“They say we can’t risk you getting captured. Dementor’s kiss and all.”
Sirius chucked. “They say… Like staying here isn’t sucking my soul out all the same.”
“It’s not exactly… cheerful.”
“My damned house elf was never a good housekeeper. Nor was my mother an interior designer. Parents took too much pride in their family heirlooms to consider taste.”
You hummed. “I take it you think you have taste, then?”
“Oh, I know I do. I mean, don’t take my room here for example. If you could see my room at the Potter Manor?” He shook his head with a sigh. “And I had barely settled after moving out when… when it all happened.”
You sat back on your heels, turning a muggle cooking timer you had in your pack. The potion needed to sit for some time.
“Do you want to talk about those years? Or should we change the subject?” you asked, placing some of your tools back into their case.
He barked a laugh and tilted his head back against the chair’s fraying material.
“Change the subject. There’s not much to say about sitting in a cell and rotting for twelve years.”
“Says the only man to escape Azkaban.”
“Different subject, darling.”
“Okay, okay. Can I ask why it feels like you’re always staring at me during meetings?”
“Easy. Because I am.”
The casualness in his answer took you by surprise. Who admits to staring at a person?
“Why?”
“You’re Snivy’s kid,” Sirius said like it was an obvious answer, but it made you frown.
“I take it you and my dad didn’t get along.”
“I wouldn’t say we were friends, no. But the feeling was mutual.”
“So Severus is my dad. Why does that make you stare?” you asked, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. This time, it was you studying him, taking in every detail of his features.
Under your intense gaze, SIrius sat up in the chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
“Trying to figure out how much like him you are.”
You hummed. “I’m sure someone told you it doesn’t matter if you like dad or me. There’s a bigger problem at hand that doesn’t require us to be friends.”
Sirius flexed his eyebrows in mild annoyance.
“It’s not friendship I’m looking for from you,” he said, sounding irritated that he had to explain this. “Can I trust you? Can we trust you?”
You scoffed and took a step backwards.
“Why wouldn’t you be able to trust me?”
“Because I don’t trust your father. I don’t care if Dumbledore does. I don’t care he claims to be a changed man. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.”
Suddenly, your expression changed into complete shock and disbelief. It hit Sirius that perhaps you didn’t know of your father’s history and the mark he bore on his left arm.
“Oh, you didn’t know…”
“Dad was… is… was…” you stuttered. “No… He-he can’t… What?”
“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t’ve said anything if I knew you didn’t know…”
“No,” you said, holding up a hand to silence Sirius. “I’m glad you told me. You really would think I would know that about my own father… Merlin…”
Sirius stood up and took exactly one step toward you. Then your timer went off. The cauldron captured all of your attention again. You removed it from the fire, stirred it and added the final ingredients. Sirius didn’t sit back down. He was too distracted with how you turned off your emotions to deal with the potion. It was like you suddenly didn’t care that a portion of your father’s identity had been hidden from you for your entire life because you had a duty, a duty to be prepared when the members of the Order returned.
“Sirius,” you said after a few minutes. “Thank you for telling me about my father.”
“They’re back!” Ginny yelled from downstairs.
“Great, help me take this down to the kitchen?” you asked, gesturing to the cauldron.
“Yeah, I’ll bring it. You go ahead, assess the damage done.”
You chuckled softly. “I’m no healer. Just a potioneer.”
---
Slowly, you started talking to Sirius before and after meetings. The ones Severus attended, you avoided his eye. You had never questioned some things before, and now you were. The more you thought on your childhood, things that previously seemed odd made sense, given Sirius’ revelation.
Severus wasn’t oblivious to your sudden coldness to him. He cornered you after one of the meetings.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.
“What?” you replied, barely able to bring yourself to look at him.
“You’re avoiding me,” Severus said plainly. “It’s unlike you.”
You shrugged before crossing your arms.
“So what if I am? You’re not who I thought you were.”
“I’m your father,” he hissed, leaning forward like he was trying to assert his dominance over you.
You kept your head held high. “Roll up your sleeves then, Father.”
Severus stood up straighter, taking a step backwards. He glanced around the room. Then he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.
“Come with me,” he snarled, dragging you up the stairs until you reached the drawing room. He closed the door behind you and casted a muffling charm. “Who told you?”
“Doesn’t matter. It should have been you.”
“It does matter, Y/N.”
You scoff, turning away from him. You didn’t see why it mattered who told you, just that it hadn’t been him. You knew now and you didn’t know how you could trust your father. You agreed with Sirius on that point; it didn’t matter if Dumbledore trusted him. You decided that your father had to re-earn your trust. You were his daughter, his own flesh and blood. How come he wasn't the one who told you?
“You made yourself a liability,” he said.
“Oh no, what’s going to happen? I can’t go on missions? Oh, wait, I haven’t been on one.”
“You’re starting to sound like… Merlin…” Severus said.
Severus stormed out of the room and practically flew down the stairs. Even from upstairs, you could hear his threats.
“Are you trying to turn her against me? Do you ever think about your actions?”
“I didn’t know Y/N didn’t know!” Sirius’ voice replied, carrying as much anger as your father’s did. “She deserved to know.”
“Severus! Sirius!” Molly yelled.
You could imagine what the kitchen looked like. Severus at Sirius’ throat. Despite the anger in his voice, Sirius would maintain an even expression, or it would be masked with a casual grin. Molly was certainly trying to get in between them.
“Molly, don’t you agree that Y/N should know of past alliances?” Sirius asked.
“Y/N, maybe. The rest of the house? No.”
You rolled your eyes as you left the drawing room and went down the stairs. You slipped out the front door before you could overhear any more of the argument. Something flipped in you and you didn’t feel like seeing Severus or Sirius in the aftermath of that meeting. You also didn’t want to talk to Molly and explain your part in it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever; there would be more Order meetings. But that wouldn’t be for a week, and people would be able to settle down.
The next week, you arrived early. You’re not sure why, but it felt like the thing to do. The Advance Guard was gathering. You weren’t a part of it, surprise surprise. You knew that Severus wouldn’t be, but he would arrive as close to meeting time as he could. Sirius would be around.
“Y/N, you’re not needed until later,” Remus said as you walked through the door and hung up your coat.
“I know,” you said casually. “But I can have tea in my flat, alone, or I can have tea here.”
You walked past the guard, which proved more difficult than it should have been as they stood in the narrow hallway. There was no one in the kitchen, which you found odd. It was usually the life of the house, especially before meetings. You knew the kids liked to linger in attempts to be overlooked so they could attend a meeting. Molly always spotted them and kicked them out. ‘Members only,’ she’d say to their protests as they declared that they’d like to join.
You put a kettle on and milled around, looking for the various things you need. Cup, tea leaves, sugar. Maybe a biscuit if they had some. You find everything you need just as the kettle whistles, and then you settle at the table.
It doesn’t take long before Sirius enters the kitchen, smiling when he sees you. He took the seat next to you. After a minute, he reached over to grab your cup and took a sip of your tea. He made a face as he placed it back in front of you.
“Got enough sugar in there?”
“Not a fan of this blend,” you deadpanned, which was a partial truth. You also just liked your tea on the sweeter side. “You excited to see Harry?”
Sirius tensed slightly but then he nodded.
“Yes. I wish he could’ve come sooner or we could’ve written him any kind of information…” He gave you a soft look. “It’s not like with you. He doesn’t have the ability to solve a riddle and brew up some potion to counteract a cursed piece of parchment. Bloody muggles he lives with…”
“I’ve heard stories,” you muttered. “They put bars on his windows at some point.”
Sirius’ eyes widened at that.
“They did what?”
“The muggles, um, Fred and George said they rescued him from some horrible situation a few years back. You’d have to ask them ‘bout it.”
Sirius nodded and the two of you fell into a mostly comfortable silence. Slowly, other members of the Order started to fill the kitchen and the seats at the table. The murmur of small talk broke up the silence. Then there was a commotion by the front door – Harry had arrived.
You remained seated as Molly and Sirius went to greet him and the Advance Guard. You made brief eye contact with Harry before he was ushered upstairs and Molly closed the kitchen door so the meeting could start. Sirius sat down next to you, but the air around him was changed.
You stayed for dinner again. In exchanging Order Members for the non-members, Sirius got up and sat down next to Remus. The spots on either side of you were filled by Fred and George. You sunk into your seat as Harry asked question after question about the Order as Sirius encouraged him and Molly shut him down. It was tense. You just wanted a warm home cooked meal, not an argument if the Harry Potter should be allowed into the Order and who was his family.
The meal took far too long in your opinion. You barely took the time to say goodbye before hurrying out the door and making your way back to your flat. You sighed in the darkness. You didn’t bother turning on the lights, not needing it to cross the small distance to your room. The emptiness of your flat reminded you that you liked the solitude of it. It wasn't busy or filled with raging arguments. It was calm. It was quiet. It was you.
The next few meetings, Sirius didn’t sit near you. He didn’t bother to say hello or bye. You practically glued yourself to Tonks, given she was the only person in the room who currently didn’t make you feel like a child. Yes, you were the baby of the group, but you didn’t need to feel like that. It didn’t help that you still hadn’t been chosen to go on a mission. Your main and only task was to stay behind and prepare potions in case the worst happens on the mission.
“I’m not a healer,” you reminded everyone time and time again, only to be dismissed.
You started leaving Grimmauld Place in a huff more often than not. Then you heard about the group selected to accompany Harry to King’s Cross. You didn’t even bother showing up to headquarters on September 1. No one was going to attack the boy at the train station, and you knew there would be no need for potions when the Order members returned. You’d hear about how Sirius tagged along in his animagus form during the next meeting. Great. Even Sirius technically got to go on a mission.
Your attitude toward the Order was worsening. You knew that it was the side to be on. You knew you signed up for this, but it really wasn’t living up to any expectations that you had. Then, Remus approached you with a desperate request. You couldn’t turn him down.
Sirius sat watching you as you worked on preparing the Wolfsbane potion. Remus was running out and Severus claimed to be too busy to brew it. You could’ve brewed it at your shop but something drew you to headquarters. So you sat in the drawing room with the ancient brewing station, a wide variety of ingredients and a potions book. You could feel Sirius’ eyes on you, taking in every motion.
“Do you need something?” you asked, an air of impatience to your voice.
Sirius doesn’t respond right away. He had been in his thoughts thinking about how when Severus was that intensely focused on a potion, Sirius would’ve made fun of him for it, but when it was you, it was fascinating and beautiful.
“No,” Sirius said firmly.
You spared him a glance. It barely lasted a second. Sirius made no effort to pretend that he wasn’t staring at you. You sighed. You weren’t a huge fan of having someone watch your every move while you brewed a potion. You were no longer in school; you didn’t need supervision.
“If you don’t need anything, why are you in here?”
“It’s my house,” he replied flatly.
“Look,” you said, standing up and brushing yourself off before slowly walking over to him. “I know you and my father don’t get along. But I’m brewing that-” You gestured back toward the cauldron. “For Remus, who is your friend. And I really don’t need any distract-”
You were cut off by Sirius’ lips pressing onto yours as he leaned upward. You hadn’t realized you were standing close enough to his chair for him to do that. You took a shocked step backwards. Sirius stood up with a smirk on his face.
“Thanks, on behalf of Remus. I’ll leave you to finish that. Uninterrupted. And if you need me, I’ll be in my room.”
No distractions. That is what you had been asking of Sirius and instead, he gave you one of the biggest distractions that he could. You watched him leave the room and then tried to regain your focus. You had a task at hand. A rather important one, if you asked anyone who knew of Remus’ condition. The liquid started to bubble and you swore, hurrying to stir in the next ingredient.
Your mind kept drifting back to Sirius and the fact that he kissed you. And then left? Well, you had been in the middle of asking him to leave, but still. You don’t kiss someone and leave. Not like that.
You finished brewing the Wolfsbane and poured it into a collection of vials. You took your time cleaning up, debating what you wanted to do. You were still debating it as you went to find Remus and give him the vials. The upcoming full moon was already taking effect on him. He looked more tired and weak than usual. You knew the potion helped but it was still a far cry from a cure-all.
Then you found the door that said ‘Sirius Orion Black’ on it. You stood outside it for at least a full minute before raising your hand to knock on it. But you didn’t knock. Not right away. You let your hand fall. Then you raised it again, and let it fall. On the third try, because third time’s the charm, you knocked. You could hear movement from inside the room and then he opened the door.
Sirius watched you with curious eyes as you walked into his room. He closed the door behind you. You scanned the room, scoffing at the posters of motorbikes and girls in bikinis.
“Classy,” you said. “This is the taste that your parents didn’t have?”
“If I recall, I said to not count my room here. I put all this up when I was like 13? 14? Give or take. And permanent sticking charms are more powerful than most people give them credit for.”
“Ah, that’d be the lack of understanding for the word permanent.”
Sirius chuckled at that and leaned against his desk. Once again, he was watching your every move. He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips as you cautiously sat down on his bed. You were still taking in the time capsule of Sirius’ childhood when you spoke.
“So, um, what was that? Downstairs.” You knew you sounded confused, unsure of how you felt about it.
“When you said that I don’t get along with your… with Severus,” he started, saying your father’s name with a moderate level of disgust, “you weren’t wrong. Apparently, I have strong emotions for Snapes. For him, it’s… ahem, not good. But you?” He took a breath and shook his head. “I can’t get you out of my head. At first I thought it was because you’re his kid. But it’s not that. It’s… Merlin, you’re something else, you know?”
You just stare at him. You didn’t quite understand what he was saying. This time it was your turn to watch him as he stood up from leaning against his desk and made his way toward you. He stood in front of you for a moment, running a gentle finger along your jaw from your ear down to your chin.
As he sat next to you, he added, “And I tried to stop what I feel for you. Bury it deep. But, fuck, Y/N, you’re irresistable…”
“So August was…”
“That was me telling myself this would never work. You’re a Snape. There’s no way you could want me like I want you.”
You wanted to laugh. Sirius was devilishly handsome and you found he was easy to get along with. You liked how he didn’t treat you like a child and understood why you felt less than in the Order, since you were both consistently left behind.
“What made you… change your mind?” you asked, turning so your body was angled toward him.
“I may be very much reading into it, but I don’t think so since you’re here now. But you brewed Remus’ potion here rather than your little apothecary shop. Thought that it might be because I’m here. And then you were about to call me a distraction.”
This time you did laugh.
“Cocky much? Assuming a distraction is a good thing?”
He leaned in so his face was only centimeters from yours. “Is it?”
You hated how your breath caught in your throat. You hated how Sirius obviously noticed with his smirk growing into a wide grin. He leaned in more. His lips weren’t quite touching yours but you swore you could feel them move as he spoke.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Just kiss me again, Black,” you breathed.
That was all he needed to press his lips to yours again. You didn’t pull back this time. You leaned into him, kissing back with passion you hadn’t felt in years. Sirius had one hand cupping your face and the other holding onto your waist, holding your body in place. The voice in his head kept saying that any moment now you’d remember that Sirius is the same age as your father and it would disgust you. You kept proving the voice wrong with each passing second.
Soon enough you were no longer sitting on Sirius’ bed. You straddled him, pressing your body against his. Both his hands were traveling your body, feeling the softness of your skin under your shirt. You simply had an arm around his neck and a hand in his hair.
You felt like you had fire in your veins as Sirius’ lips left yours but kept pressing wet kisses to your skin. He moved to your jaw and down your neck until he found the sweet spot near your collarbone.
A firm knock on his door froze the both of you where you sat practically intertwined.
“Padfoot, I’m going for takeaway. Want anything?” Remus called through the door.
You pressed your mouth against Sirius’ shoulder to prevent yourself from giggling. There was something so utterly teenage about almost getting caught snogging. You and Sirius were both adults, but being walked in on by Remus would still have felt mortifying.
“Nah, mate, I’m good,” Sirius yelled back. His hands were still holding your side and back under your shirt.
“Alright.” There was a pause. “Did little Snape leave? I didn’t hear the door.”
You pulled back from Sirius’ shoulder with wide eyes. You didn’t know what you wanted him to stay. If Sirius said you were still here, Remus would probably ask if you wanted anything or where you were since you clearly weren’t anywhere else in the house. If he said you were gone and Remus decided to come in for some reason, Sirius would have to explain why he lied. Well, it would be obvious why he lied, but still. You figured it would be better if Sirius said you were gone and then you could sneak out while Remus was gone.
“She’s quiet, that one. Mum would’ve liked her,” Sirius replied and you nodded approvingly.
“Right. Okay. I’ll be back.”
You and Sirius sat silently. You listened to Remus descend the rest of the stairs and leave the house.
“I’ll have to be gone before he gets back,” you said.
“Or you could stay,” Sirius offered. “Say you forgot something or another.”
You placed a kiss on Sirius’ cheek. “Yeah? And then what?”
“Then…” Sirius drew out the word as if pondering your question. “You spend the night?”
You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, Sirius, I don’t fuck on the first date.” You patted his cheek gently before removing yourself from his lap. You tried not to look at the tent in his pants, the result of having you. “How about you make me dinner sometime?”
Sirius had frowned when you got up but it was quickly replaced with a smile when you suggested dinner.
“And if I’m no chef?”
You shrugged. “I could pick up takeaway. Or, if you’re really nice, I could make something.”
Then, realization hit you and you sat back down next to Sirius.
“If this happens,” you said, gesturing between you and Sirius, “we’ll have to tell my father.”
Sirius’ grin only grew, something wicked flickering in his eyes. “I can’t wait to tell him.”
“That’ll help you mend your past,” you muttered, earning a bark of a laugh from Sirius.
“I think we’re well past being able to mend anything, sweetheart,” he said. “But I can be cordial if it means I can have you.”
You jam a finger into his chest. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. So far all you are is a good snog.”
“A good snog, eh? High reviews.”
“Think you’re open on Friday?” you asked, standing up again and straightening your shirt.
“Let’s see,” Sirius said, mock-pondering. “Tomorrow, Friday, next week, next month… I’m open.”
“Right, sorry.” You gave Sirius a small smile. “Chinese sound good? I’ll pick it up and be over ‘round 7?”
“Sounds lovely.”

Tag: @bruxa0007
#marauders#marauders fic#marauder-misprint#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#request
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i've seen a lot of takes (i am using the word 'take' absolutely neutrally here; and i'm specifying neutrality bc i have started to see that word as having inherently negative connotations in this context and i have no idea if that's just a Me Problem but i figured specificity couldn't hurt)
okay, that got away from me, let me start again
i've seen a lot of takes about The Damsel that have to do with idealization being another kind of dehumanization and how she's Like She Is because you/TLQ are projecting a fantasy onto her and sanding away any traits that don't fit into that fantasy and rendering her into little more than a vessel for your/TLQ's wish fulfillment
and i don't necessarily think that's *wrong* either-- but i think that's also not the complete picture, and that only looking that that half of the image does kind of tend to paint TLQ in an unfairly bad light
because the thing is, in The Damsel's route, TLQ is ALSO being reduced to an archetype just as much as The Damsel herself is! The Princess becomes the quintessential fairytale fair-maiden-in-distress that exists only to be rescued by a knight-in-shining-armor; and TLQ-- if you allow them to be guided entirely by The Smitten-- becomes that quintessential fairytale knight-in-shining-armor that only exists to rescue the fair-maiden-in-distress
The Damsel says over and over, explicitly, that "I just want to make you happy!" and The Smitten in this route is equally preoccupied with making HER happy-- he even says it directly if you start deconstructing her. every other part of his identity has been subsumed to revolve entirely around her just as much as the reverse is true for her.
(speaking of the Deconstructed Damsel, i've also seen Smitten's reaction to that touted as him not caring about her agency-- but again, i always read that as him being unable to see any flaws in her rather than being pleased with the idea of her being biddable, specifically. if you halt the deconstruction his reaction is "she's ALWAYS been perfect" -- he'd think that no matter what she did or said, because his identity revolves around her the exact way that hers revolves around him/TLQ)
even the actions that lead to HEA fit into this, i think-- i read that moment as less The Smitten lashing out at her because she didn't live up to his fantasy-- it still happens even after she's said "i guess we can stay, if that's what you want"-- she's giving The Smitten what he wants, but he's still distressed because SHE'S not happy
i think it's more The Smitten feeling that HE hadn't lived up to HIS half of their shared fantasy. if she's not happy with the idea of "all we need is each other" then it must be because HE failed somehow. if she needs or wants more than him, it must be because HE is not enough.
if he was just better at playing his part, if he just offered her more, if he was just clearer about his devotion--
"if we just showed her the contents of our heart, she'd be happy"
that's not to say that what The Smitten does in HEA isn't incredibly toxic for both of them-- it definitely is, and it clearly makes both the Princess and TLQ miserable. "everything she doesn't know she wants" is a bad mindset to approach a relationship with, whether that mindset is reached through controlling selfishness or a desperation to appease (and i definitely think Smitten is motivated by the latter-- it's no coincidence that we arrive at HEA through a literal and fatal act of self mutilation)
he's definitely the antagonist of HEA, in that he is what TLQ and the Princess and the player need to overcome, but he's not a VILLAIN (which i think is most clearly illustrated in the moment where the Princess admits she's unhappy, that she's never been happy here, and his reaction is to GIVE UP instead of lash out harder)
i never got the sense that The Smitten was ever putting any blame on The Damsel-- he always considered *himself* to be the problem-- he puppeteers TLQ just as much as he does the Princess, even if we can't hear him while she can, and he asks TLQ/the player through her "isn't this enough? isn't this what you wanted?"
which in and of itself is an unhealthy way to approach a relationship-- blaming oneself for every bit of conflict or lapse in synchronicity is just as harmful as laying all the blame on the other person. there IS no blame-- sometimes people disagree or have conflicting needs or desires, and that's not anybody's "fault" because that's just how people and relationships WORK.
...can you believe i wrote out all of this when my original intention was to lay out an entirely different point about a read on The Damsel/HEA routes that wasn't about relationships at all?
OKAY!
THAT GOT AWAY FROM ME LET ME START AGAIN
so i don't think that looking at The Damsel/HEA through a lens of "what does this say about relationships and expectations and respecting other people's agency" is incorrect-- clearly i have a lot of thoughts about that lens!
but i wanted to offer another one that i haven't seen yet:
The Damsel/HEA route as a commentary on what makes a satisfying narrative
if you play out The Damsel route just single-mindedly taking actions to free her-- it's kinda dull, isn't it? like-- it's not without its charms! The Smitten is silly and entertaining and the Narrator's exaggerated pettiness is very funny! but ultimately, that's about it.
potential sources of conflict are brushed aside-- if you took the blade with you, you just drop it and it gets forgotten; the Damsel's hand slips right out of the manacle with no effort or harm; when the Narrator locks the basement door, every 'choice' you make just magically unlocks it right away. and then you're outside, what you wanted to do from the start. ...so what do we do now?
nothing, actually. the chapter ends, and there is no chapter 3. the game itself continues, but that ending feels about as substantial as the Narrator's "Good Ending" where you follow his instructions without question and accomplish his goal immediately.
if you DON'T take either of the actions that lead to one of Damsel's chapter 3's, there's very little variation in The Damsel's story-- pretty much all of it comes down to slight differences in dialogue. there's no "the princess kills you" outcome. the closest thing to an alternate end to The Damsel is if you deconstruct her-- and even then, it feels like less an "alternate route" and more like-- a cheeky acknowledgement of the lack of substance, because that isn't a bug, it's a feature!
but if you introduce conflict-- either in the more direct sense by slaying The Damsel or in the more interpersonal sense by highlighting a mis-match in her and TLQ's desires-- suddenly the story opens up! there are a bunch of new possibilities and a bunch of new outcomes, and all of them are more interesting than "you achieve your goal with trivial effort, hooray!"
Even if you wind up finishing HEA on a note that is superficially very similar to the easy end of The Damsel's route-- you leave hand in hand with her, the narrator conceding defeat, and the last image of her before TSM takes her is a warm, tender smile-- it FEELS so much more like a genuine happy ending-- even though the Princess' face is still streaked and stained from her tears. BECAUSE of that.
it's one of the most heartwarming moments in the game, and one that has made me misty eyed every time i've seen it, and it's BECAUSE of the conflict you had to go through to get there.
conflict is what drives a compelling narrative, is the takeaway. it precludes PERFECT endings, perhaps, but not happy endings-- it's what makes those imperfect happy endings feel substantial and earned.
even the dinner and the board game contribute to the idea-- the description of the food is some really lovely writing, to the point where i sat through and listened to it all again even though i knew nothing really happens during it-- but *nothing really happens during it*. it doesn't move the narrative forward-- you're just as hungry as you were when you started. it just stalls the story in place, and every time you go through it again it's less satisfying until it's outright unpleasant. the description of the meal also notably gets simpler each time, and less detailed-- there's only so much that you can say about it before you run out of things to describe.
the board game is similar-- the way that it's described the first time you play even sounds like the description of an exciting story! and then the board resets, and you do it all again just the same. and so on. the game/story stops being exciting and the wins or losses stop feeling like they mean anything-- because is conflict really conflict, is a challenge really a challenge, if you're always tracing the same path, always making moves where you already know the outcome? it becomes "a slog towards the end"
and this is how i tie the idea of "what Damsel/HEA has to say about relationships" and "what Damsel/HEA has to say about narratives" together:
ultimately, the statements can be summarized the same way "whether in a narrative or a relationship, 'perfection' is unattainable, but you wouldn't actually want it anyway"
conflict, substance, variety
in a relationship there will always be differences of opinion, differing goals etc-- variety between the members of the relationship, knowing and sharing this substantial and non-superficial information about one another, navigating the resultant conflict-- that's what allows the relationship to grow and deepen, and what allows the people in it to grow as individuals as well.
in a narrative, or in Narratives, as a whole, conflict is what makes things HAPPEN, substance makes them feel like what happens MATTERS, like something is being communicated, variety means that you're learning or considering something new-- and those are what make a narrative capable of impacting a person, of changing them, of being remembered
#Slay the Princess#STP meta#STP Damsel#STP Happily Ever After#The Voice of The Smitten#DEAR GOD that is so many words#i ended up with more to say about this than i anticipated#hopefully it is all coherent and/or interesting!! lmao#GOD i love this game. if you couldn't tell. from the y'know. gotdang essay
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Success Story Using Your States Challenge 🎉
Hello Maya! I've got to confess, I used to despise the concept of states. It made it seem to me like bloggers were simply being lazy and deceiving us because at first, it made zero sense. If I could just choose to embody any state, then why was my life in shambles? Why was I poor, why was I abused?unattractive, and suffering? When did I choose to embody these states?
But then it hit me! Whether consciously or subconsciously, whether due to coincidence or purposeful, whether knowingly or ignorantly, I realized that if I wanted to manifest my dream life, I had to take accountability for the negative aspects as well. That's the law of reversibility. It was a bitter pill to swallow initially because I've been through some really tough shit experiences that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.
It wasn't my fault, but I kept replaying those old stories, and reliving them hence creating my reality . But I learned that I could use this to my advantage. I could replace the old story with a new one that fulfilled me.
I started making choices aligned with my dream life. Every time I encountered something from the old story, I chose to perceive it differently. Working with an abusive manager? Odd, because in my state, I'm a trust fund baby. Seeing an unattractive reflection in the mirror? Confusing, because I have a social media following based on my looks alone bc of pretty privilege. My bank account nearing zero? Must be an error, because I have millions in savings and investments.
I strongly recommend checking out these posts for additional insights:
Pink's post on overcoming doubt
Angel's advice on states
Bambi's tips on manifesting under unfavorable circumstances
Maya's post on time
Since embracing this mindset, I've manifested so much! Like literally waking up with a whole new life. I've moved to LA, gained a large social media following (100k on Instagram, 200k on YouTube, and 1 million on TikTok), and now live in a beautiful house in Beverly Hills. I attend a prestigious private high school with other celebrity kids. My dad (revised) is retiring from the NFL, and my mom is a successful interior designer.
I've also manifested my dream body (Alexis ren), dream face (I am so pretty it’s not even fair) dream cars (Lamborghini Urus, Tesla Model X, and Porsche 911 GT3), an enviable closet and room, a loyal friend group, and much more. My list was about 100 pages long, very specific, and yet my life turned out even better than I could have imagined!
Thank you so much and Happy New Year! 💋
I am very happy for you! I’m glad you kept reaching for your dreams and inspiring yourself and thank you for inspiring others 🤍🕊️✨Honestly I forgot what state challenge you’re talking abt bc I genuinely lowkey don’t remember making that post… like who knows where my mind was but regardless wishing you a lifetime of happiness and success! So glad I could help
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i feel so honoured to have inspired this ficlet situation 😂 literally any dad!gp or dad!christian stuff you have in mind, young max or present day or whatever i am not picky 🫶🏻🫶🏻
you spoke what I'm sure several people were thinking lol. here's some famiglia dad!gp, 700 words.
"So he's... um."
Christian flounders, sitting across from Gianpiero at his desk, trying to find words.
"Um. A member of the nonspeaking community?"
Gianpiero can't hide his snort, palming his forehead.
"He's mute, yes."
Christian looks relieved, shoulders sagging.
"I can say mute? Thank god- these HR memos are getting out of hand."
Gianpiero rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair. Christian is clearly trying, intrigued by the idea of having a teenager around the garage.
"He's a bit shy, fair warning. Until he gets comfortable, anyways- I get all sorts of sassy notes now."
Christian nods.
"Teenagers. You said he's not- it's just you and him, right? He's not biologically yours?"
Gianpiero drums his fingers against his thigh, trying to decide if he needs to be defensive or not.
"He's-"
He pauses, thinking of a few years back. Max had been so small, and Gianpiero had been so awkward- neither of them knew what they were doing.
He's had to learn to cook, because while it's perfectly acceptable for a single man in his thirties to eat ham sandwiches whenever he was home, it's frowned upon to put a child through it as well.
So he's bought a few cookbooks, their house has more spices than he knew existed, and he's been learning how to make a fulfilling plate while being judged by a mute teenager.
Sometimes Max helps, standing quietly by his side and carefully chopping vegetables. Or he'll turn down a burner when Gianpiero has forgotten to keep an eye on it, saving them both from the smoke alarm- it makes a truly terrible screeching noise.
He'll wait until Gianpiero is absorbed in work on his laptop before slinking into the living room, settling a few feet away on the couch and opening a book.
If Gianpiero waits patiently, he'll move a few inches at a time, stealthily creeping closer until his head droops sleepily onto his shoulder.
He hadn't understood it before- the way parents talked about how it felt when their children fell asleep on them.
He gets it now.
The first time it had happened he'd frozen, afraid to even breathe for fear of waking Max back up.
Now he's more used to it. It's part of their routine- Gianpiero pretends he doesn't notice Max creeping closer, Max pretends Gianpiero lifting his arm up to rest on the back of the couch is convenient, instead of calculated.
Max hasn't brought up anything about how Gianpiero carries him back up to his room each night, and Gianpiero's more muscular now than he was before, but-
He gets it now.
He'd lift a car for this kid, fight soldiers, get in trouble with the law- anything.
Max has brought a spark into his life he didn't even know he was missing- witty and insightful, deeply judgmental and surprisingly sweet, all without speaking a word.
He's made Gianpiero reevaluate how he looks at the world. People have asked him before if he's lonely, just him and Max- no partner or mother in the picture.
Gianpiero couldn't imagine anything else.
Sure, the house is a bit of motorsport enthusiasts bachelor pad, but it's perfect for them- workbooks and data packets scattered across the counters, mismatched shoes by the doorway.
So what if sometimes they have miniature competitions, trying to see who can flick the straw wrapper into the kitchen trash bin from across the living room.
Max's favorite movie being The Hangover is probably a bit immature, but it makes him so happy Gianpiero can't bear to shut it off- even if they've seen it a million times and he rolls his eyes every time.
Gianpiero would act out the stupid movie himself if it meant Max got to be that happy all the time. He knows Max has been through a lot- sees it every time Max flinches, or startles awake on the couch, pressing further into Gianpiero's side.
He wishes he could take that pain away. Wishes he could go back and time and change it, give Max a better life- even if it would mean removing him from Gianpiero's.
He's learning that this is what it means to be a parent.
Gianpiero smiles back at Christian.
"He's my son."
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Warm welcome
pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader, avengers x reader (platonic)
summary: after 3 months of being gone, you finaly came back home, but there is a new addiction to the avengers, will the two of you come along?
warnings: new series so very very slow burn!, some swearing, bad grammar possibly (i hope not hehe), alcohol consumption, bad jokes, reader being little mess, that’s it for this part I think:)
word count: 5.5k
an: new series!! since i got back into being very obsessed with miss bishop, so i decided to start a new series, its gonna be long, cuz my ideas for this went crazy!
an2: and yes, this is an universe where everyone is alive, most of them are 100% happy and it´s just a safe space, come at me as you want, but i just need them to be happy. that´s all, thank you.
an3: yup i am back! so sorry! work, school and sickness is just not it. ill answer all of you soon! thank you for support, i see youuu!
!MDNI!

After long time away from you found family, you finaly came back home. It was supposed to be quick mission in Morocco, but after you found out that this is something bigger than some usual drug trafficking you had to stay. Not just for Fury´s sake, but for your own too.
And that´s how you stayed over 3 months in some old motel, that looked like a typical horror hounted house, alone. But that was a past, you´re currently standing infront of the main entrance of the Avengers Compound, ready to open the door and see everyone.
As you open the door the voice of a F.R.I.D.A.Y., the Stark´s AI. "Welcome home, miss (Y/L/N), should I contact the others that you are home?"
"No, no. I want it to be surprise. And (Y/N) is just fine, like I´ve said before, many times." you smile.
As you traverse the hallways, anticipation builds with every passing moment, knowing that you're drawing closer to that cherished destination—the main living room. The anticipation turns to a gentle excitement, a feeling of returning to a sanctuary that holds a piece of your soul.
And finally, as you reach the threshold of the living room, a soft sigh escapes your lips, and a smile graces your face. The sight of the familiar couch, but most importatnly the sight of your favorite people.
"That´s the question, do you put cereals or milk first?" you hear Pietro´s voice, smiling at the fact that he didn´t change a bit, still the same goof. Three months are not so long, but at the same time everything can be different in three months.
You watch him for a little bit and then you dediced to speak up. "Everyone who puts milk first is total psychopat," you calmly say as all of their faces turns to look at you.
"Oh my god! (Y/N)!" Pietro says and in a second he´s lifting you up and pulling you into a tight squeezing hug.
"Hey Speedy," you chuckle as he´s crushing your body. "Pietro... too much, ouch." He let go of you.
"Sorry, sorry. It´s been like what?" Pietro laughs and puts you down.
"3 motnhs, 17 days," you look at your phone, "4 hours, 18 minutes and few seconds." Pietro laughs at your comment.
"It was a long time, let´s just say that." You can hear another sokovian accent, this time the voice belongs to a woman. Wanda.
She hugs you close, hints of warm vanilla and soft lavender dance around you. It's a scent that feels like homecoming, wrapping you in familiarity and a sense of belonging. You smile into the touch, as you felt that the touch is soothing the ache of missed embraces. You feel the gentle warmth of her hug infusing into your being, fulfilling a longing for touch that has been starved for far too. "Hi." is all you can mumble, while hugging the girl.
"Hi," she mumbles back, no words needed for the two of you, both of you missed eachother like lungs misses the air. To be fair, Wanda was the first person you grew close to, when you´ve joined the Avengers. She was quiet, but so well spoken at the same time. You never had to explain things for her to understand you. And the same went the other way around.
The rest of the Avengers come into the living room and all of their faces lit up, when they saw you. All of them are here. Except for Carol, who is probably somewhere in the space, you haven´t seen her in almost half a year, since she had off world mission even before you went to Morocco.
You shared many hugs with all of them, and you didn´t mind it a little bit. You were so touch starved after being alone, that you hold everyone closer for at least a few seconds and all of them did the same. Suprisingly even Yelena didn´t said anything, like she always did.
You scan the whole room, chcecking if you didn´t missed anyone and you in fact did. But the person is not someone you recognize. There is this tall, dark hair girl, who looks pretty much the same age as you. She looks effortlessly stylish in her well-fitted blue jeans paired with a cozy gray sweater. The jeans accentuate her figure while the relaxed elegance of the sweater gives off a vibe of comfort. The girl looks rather awkward as everyone greets you. Not that she wouldn´t know who you are, she does, she heard a lot of stories about you, almost like she knew who you are, but you don´t know anything at all and that makes her feel awkward.
You look at her and smile, not knowing what to do yourself, so Clint steps in, "(Y/N), this is Kate, our new help, Kate this is (Y/N), our old help." You nod at Clint´s words and extent your hand for her to shake it.
"Pleasure to finaly meet you, (Y/N)." Kate smiles her hand has a firm grip.
"Nice to meet you too, Kate." You smile, maybe too much for a normal meeting. You have to admit she is georgous and her completly blue eyes are making you forget where you are right now.
"(Y/F/N)!" Natasha storms into the living room, her voice a sharp, controlled fury that cuts through the air, making you swallow... hard. "When did you arrived?" Even thoug she was mad for not knowing you came back, she was very relieved that you are okay and alive. As her hands wrap around you, you let out a squek and you froze knowing what comes afterwards. "Are you hurt?"
"I´m fine," you quickly say as the rest of the team watch you closely.
"I didn´t ask you, how are you, I´ve asked you if you´re hurt." Her eyes scans your face where she sees the little cuts you have on your face.
"A little bit." You mumble and Natasha raises her eyebrow. "I might have or might have not fallen out of the third floor, " you mumble again.
"YOU FELL FROM THE THIRD FLOOR?!" Natasha is basically yelling at you right now.
"Kinda," sometimes you were terrified of that woman, and that sometimes is now.
Natasha takes a long deep breath, "(Y/N), how do you kinda fell out of a third floor?"
"I´m gonna check her up." Bruce smiles and stand up, leading you to the hospital wing downstairs.
"Thank you, for saving my life," you whisper to him as you´re leaving the living room.
"Don´t mention it, but you know... she´s worried about you. We all have been." Bruce opens the door for you.
"I know, but I´m really okay, just few bruises."
...
After 20 minutes of checking you up, and hearing your story of falling from the building, Bruce looks shocked. He didn´t said a word yet, only wrote down something in his report.
"This is going to be a very long mission report, just from the medical side," he looks at you, "(Y/N)... you had your lower ribs broken, twice actually. And- I´m suprised you´re not screaming in pain right now. How do you truly feel?" Bruce finally looks at you.
"I feel good, really. I mean it hurts, yes. But I felt worse. It feels like a daily workout with Natasha," you shrug as you joke, but Bruce doesn´t seem amused by your joke, but he still nods.
"You know Natasha can look into any mission report, right?" He looks like he´s more scared than you are.
"I´m aware, yes." You give him a confused look.
"Well good luck..." he pats your shoulder, "just rest for the next days, keep yourself hydrated and don´t share the story how you fell from the third floor, please. She would lose it."
"But it truly wasn´t my fault I-" Bruce looks at you and you stop, "got it." You nod.
...
"Alright, so picture this: I'm in this quiet little motel in Morocco, writing down some information I found out that day. It's just me, the mission, and this cute little stray cat that kept showing up at my door. Every night, like clockwork, she'd appear, almost like she knew I needed a friend. So, one day, I caved and let her in. You know, against all mission protocols and stuff. Bla blah blah... but she became my only friend, so I would not lose my mind completly." You talk about your experiences on the mission.
"And then, the weirdest thing happened. One day, she just disappeared. I was worried, you know? Felt a bit empty without her there. But on my last day, she came back. And guess what? She brought company—tiny, adorable company. She led me to this corner, and there they were, her little kittens. It was like she wanted to say goodbye and show me her new family all at once. It was… unexpected, but kinda touching, you know?" You smile, thinking about the tiny family.
"It was truly cute and adorable, also it was kinda relaxing after seeing all the bad and negativity. Like... animals are truly precious you know." As you´re talking you didn´t notice another person coming into the living room, until that person decides to speak up.
"(Y/L/N)," you turn around and notice it´s Nick Fury himself.
"Fury!" You smile.
He didn´t smile back, he has the same old Nick Fury look, "I want your report soon..."
"Y-yes, sir." You nod your head, hoping he would welcome you a little warmer, but it´s Nick Fury after all.
"And (Y/L/N)?" Fury says while basically walking out of the living room already.
"Yes, sir?"
"It´s good to have you back." He smiles, Fury smiles at you. There go your wish of a warmer welcome. Nickolas freaking Fury smiled at you and welcomed you home, warmly.
You have a pround smile on your face, when Tony speaks up, "I work for him for god knows how long and he never looked at me this way..."
Natasha looks at Tony and smirks, "can you blame him?".
You sink into the couch with a grin, finally getting a chance to unwind in your home-away-from-home. After swapping stories and catching up on compound news, Tony steps in with a suggestion—a special Avengers night. Not his typical flashy party, thankfully. He calls it a "Catching Up Night," just a laid-back dinner and some drinks.
It's not about going all out; it's about the simple pleasure of hanging out with your superhero pals, sharing laughs and updates. Tonight's vibe feels relaxed, a chance to chill and connect without the whole party frenzy.
...
Like always druing these 'non party party' you and Pietro moved to the bar section, as he loves to make people their drink based on their personality and you just like to sit and listen to him ramble.
"Do you want a drink called 'Tiny cold' or 'Closet paradise'?" he smirks, being proud of his jokes, like the usual.
"Really? First of all I´m not that tiny, also I´m not in the closet. What do you want me to do, tattoo a pride flag on my forehead?" You raise your eyebrow.
"If it wasn´t true you wouldn´t get so defensive, darling," he winks.
"I hate you."
"No, you don´t." Pietro towers above everyone you know, his playful teasing is basically a form of big-brotherly teasing.
"I´ll get the closet paradise, please." You roll your eyes.
"Coming right at ya!" Pietro smiles, once again, he won your little fight.
"So, Pietro, spill the beans! Who's this new girl, Kate?"
"Ah, Kate, huh? What do you want to know about her?" Pietro say while making you the drink.
"Everything! No one's given me a straight answer. Or any answer at all. I mean I didn´t ask, but I´m doing that now..." You ramble.
Pietro smirks at your words, "I mean... she´s cool."
"Come on, Pietro, don't be like that! Is she nice? What does she do?" You are obvoisuly frustrated as not even Pietro is giving you any tea.
"Well, she's got moves, that's for sure. Quick on her feet, sharp with her arrows—" He almost finishes up the drink for you.
"Arrows?" You cut him off.
"Yep, a regular Robin Hood type, except with better aim and a cooler outfit." He put ice in the glass.
"Is she nice, though? Friendly?" You want to get to know her.
Pietro nods and serves you the drink. "Yeah, she's cool once you get past the whole 'I'm new here' vibe she's got going."
"What do you mean?" You smile at him for giving you the drink.
"Why don´t we invite her and you find out yourself?" Pietro says, not really waiting for your answer and he is already waving like a crazy person at Kate, who is still standing next to the table by herself.
Kate smiles as she notices, that she doesn´t need to stand there awkwardly alone, and she little less awkwardly skips over to the bar. Small "hi" escaping her mouth.
"Hey there archer, why were you standing there all alone, when you can have fun with us?" Pietro starts the conversation.
"I uh-" Kate starts, but no smart explanation leaves her mouth.
"Pietro..." you look at him.
"What?" He looks at you, not knowing what he did wrong.
"No, he´s right. I´m little socialy awkward." The tall girl responds.
You smile at her, slightly noding your head. "Aren´t we all?" You try to make her feel a little better.
"I´m not." Of course Pietro had to say something.
"Well you´re one of a kind, Speedy." Pietro smirks proudly, while you roll your eyes once again.
"Um... what are you drinking?" Kate nods towards your drink in your hand. It was indeed very pretty colorful drink.
"I am drinking a drink that Pietro made..." You say while looking at the drink in your hand.
"The drink has it´s name, (Y/N)." Pietro smiles innocently.
"Yeah, well... I forgot it." You simple just shrug while Kate looks very confused.
"I´ll get one too, please. It looks tasty." Kate looks at Pietro, who just giggles to himself and starts to prepare Kate one 'Closet paradise' too.
All three of you start to be a little tipsy after some time, since Pietro´ alcohol ratio was 2/3 and the remaining ingredients 1/3, he´s just a begginer behind the bar. You realized that Kate is such an easy person to talk to and she´s not that intoverted as you though the first time you saw her earlier today. She´s the exact opposite to be fair, she´s very talkative. In some topics more than Pietro, which you thought is impossible.
After a little bit you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, when you sit down on the toilet, you can´t hide your stupid little smile anymore. Why are you smiling? You don´t really know. But it´s nice, it´s really nice actualy.
After 10 minutes, you come back to the bar, seeing that Kate is sitting there alone. "Where is our bartender?"
"He was invited to an arm wrestling match and, of course, he went." You can notice, that Kate´s cheeks are a little flushed, due to the few drinks she had.
"Of course." You chuckle as you sit next to Kate on one of the bar stools and your eyes immedietly look at her. "Do you like it here? Being in the team? Superhero stuff?"
Kate´s eyes meet yours, "I do have to say, that I idolized it a bit, but it´s not so bad. Not at all." She smiles at you, "what about you? Was it hard being away from your family?"
You nod, "First two weeks were okay, it went suprisingly fast, to be honest. Another week was really boring and then... it´s just mashed in one big mess of fighting, bleeding, falling and running away." You chuckle, but the smile never reached your eyes and Kate notices that.
Kate knows that she needs to make you feel better, "I uh... you know people here missed you a lot. To be honest when i officially joined I felt like there is something missing in here.."
"Oh please..."
"No, no, really. When I moved in, Clint told me that no one gives better tours than you. He also told me that no one makes better coffee´s, which was a first big indicator, that you have to be a class." Kate let out a chuckle and so did you. You often had many stories to tell, when you were giving tours, even though you are the second youngest Avanger. And the coffee you make? It can bring a smile even to the grumpiest Winter Soldier.
"And from that moment I heard a lot of things about you, (Y/N). It felt like I knew you too, like I missed you too." Kate admits, after that she sips on her drink.
"Wow, that´s really... nice to hear." You smile from ear to ear. "I hope you heard only the good things though." You slightly blush. "But um... thank you, Kate."
"No problem." She smiles back.
"To be fair, I didn´t heard anything about you, but I would like to change that." Smooth.
"That is pretty fair." Kate nods as she finishes her drink and so did you.
"We can go to the roof." Is a sentence you said at the same time and you also laugh at the same time
"Roof it is." You chuckle as you two get up and aim to the roof.
Upon reaching the rooftop with Kate, a gentle but brisk breeze sweeps by, causing a subtle chill to settle around you. The evening's tranquility is undeniable, yet the slight coldness in the air prompts you to huddle a bit closer to yourself, silently wishing for an extra layer to ward off the chill.
"I don´t want to admit it, but Pietro makes really good drinks." Kate starts as you two sat next to eachother.
"He does, he´s the best, really." You mumble as you nod to Kate´s comment.
She looks at you, for a bit scanning your face, then she speaks up again. "Do you and... Pietro you know? Are you two together?"
That question almost makes you sober, "I- what?!" You look at her, "oh god no! No, no, no," you laugh.
"No? Oh sorry, I just... assumed." She lets out a little shaky breath.
"We´re close friends, but that´s all. I actually joined a little bit after them and since all of us were scared and going into the unknown we decided to stick together. Including Wanda." You explain the situation, while Kate nods at your words.
"Oh- I see." Her eyes are still on you.
"I wouldn´t choose Pietro in any scenario..."
"That´s harsh." She chuckles.
"I mean it in the best way possible, he´s... anyone who will date him is lucky and unlucky at the same time. Being his friend means having a strong willpower not to kill him, I can´t even imagine what it would be in a relationship with him."
"That´s fair, I guess." Kate nods.
"Give him few more moths and you´ll understand..." You let out a small giggle.
"So you´re not into cocky people?" Kate is bold, very bold. it shocks you, but at the same time it excites you a lot.
"I- don´t really know. I guess... if you´re nice to me, that´s all I´m asking, really." You shrug, once again making eye contact.
"Wait really? This little? Oh come on, not even type? Just 'Nice'?" Kate can´t believe your words.
"Yup. I´m not picky at this point."
"Oh wow, you´re one of the migty heroes, and all it takes to steal your heart is to be nice?" Kate smiles at you, trying to hold a laugh.
"And a good smile, I´m quite sucker for pretty smiles." You didn´t even register you said it, until Kate repeats it.
"Nice and a good smile, whoa (Y/N), be little humble." She nudges your side with her elbow.
"Very funny, Bishop. Do you know how hard is to find someone, who is actually nice? It´s hard these days." You sigh dramatically.
"Whatever you say." Kate lays down, looking at the stars. You watch her for a few minutes and then you lay down next to her.
It feels like you two know eachother longer than just few hours. The alcohol might be a little helper, but at the end you feel like you two are gonna be close friends.
"I still think that there is way more good people than bad, so you might have a chance..." she mumbles as she watches the night sky.
"You think?"
"I know that. For example here, all of you guys are nice, super nice. And I´m not saying it just because you´re 'The Avengers', but I can tell that no matter what you´re trying to do the best." Kate turns her head and looks at you.
"You know you´re part of this punk family too, right? And also it would be weird and kinda pointless, if some bad guys were in the Avengers." You chuckle as you point out.
"That´s not what I´ve meant and you know it." She rolls her eyes and looks back up.
"How did you even met Clint?" You ask, shifting your position so now you´re laying on your side, facing the archer.
"Um... I saved a dog´s life and he almost hit me with his car." Kate responds like it was nothing.
You laugh, "I have to say that is very original way to get into the team. 'You almost killed me and I won´t sue you, if you let me be an Avenger.' And bonus points for saving a dog´s life."
Kate groans and turns on her side to face you, "it was not like that... I was running away from a weird kinda scary looking guys, which later on I found out they were called 'Track-suit mafia'-" As Kate starts to explain how she actually got on the team and how she is basically the young and female version of Clint, you can´t help but notice how happy she is.
She's delving into these tiny details that might not matter to the story at large, but they mean the world to her, and you can sense it. Her storytelling consumes her so much that she's using her entire body, mostly her hands, to illustrate every bit of it. You find it incredibly endearing, the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed.
"Oh wow, so you´re badass basically." You laugh.
"I- yeah, you could say that too." She laughs as well.
"Well it is a honor and-" you sit back up, while you still look at her. "Thank you for your service, miss Bishop."
Kate smile and notices your subtle shivers in the chilly air, gently nudging you. "Hey, you're shivering. Come on, let's head back inside."
You attempt to brush it off with a weak smile. "Nah, I'm good, just enjoying the view."
She tilts her head, giving you a knowing look. "Sure, you are," Kate teases. "But seriously, you're freezing. Let's go before you turn into an icicle."
Reluctantly, you nod, giving in to the undeniable truth. "Alright, fine."
The door creaked open, welcoming you into the comforting embrace of the heated indoors. With a grateful smile, you thanked Kate for her concern, secretly relieved to escape the biting cold.
"There you are! Where have you been?" A slightly drunk Tony takes your hand, "thanks to me, being so amazing, I´ve got a little suprise for you!"
"I was- what surprise?" You give Stark a confusing look.
"It was not thanks to you, but Fury." As soon as the voice echoes through the room, you instinctively recognize it—Carol, immediately drawing your attention her way.
"Carol?!" You turn around and notice a tall blonde lady standing behind you, with her hair down and a black pants with a black tank top.
"I heard you came home." She said with her typical smirk, while her big strong hands wrapped your body. You simply just nod.
"How long will you stay?" You knew right away, that it won´t be for long.
"Just tonight, I´ll be leaving tomorrow early in the morning." You sigh, it was like this all the time, Carol will come and go, you didn't hold it against her at all. She is the protector of the whole space, not only The Earth. It was hard for her too, you hoped that she will remeber to be Carol for a bit, not only the Captain Marvel. And thanks to Valkyrie, she´s taking care of herself too, but after what happened to Monica, it became worse again.
"So still nothing?" Carol just shakes her head and you frown.
"But we won´t stop looking and we will find her." Carol is trying to be strong, but all of the people in this room knew, that it was just too much, even for a hero like her.
Trying to ease the situation you speak up. "Well then let´s ejnoy this few hours, all of us together." You smile, "I´m glad you´re home too, Car." She nods and smiles back at you.
"Natasha have mentioned, that you had fallen from third floor..." Carol sits down.
"You never finished that story, (Y/N)." The Widow stares at you and your eyes immedietnly search for Bruce, he only shakes his head.
"Oh um... it is not worth telling, nothing special nor interesting." You smile and quickly grab bunch of chips on the table.
Captain Marvel looks at Natasha and nods, "I see," and with a smirk on her face, she sips from her drink. "One would say, that it would be an interesting story to tell." Carol point out.
"Well it´s not." You take some more chips.
The night flowed seamlessly, filled with lively conversations and shared laughter as everyone talked and truly enjoyed themselves. It was one of those evenings where every conversation was engaging, every joke landed perfectly, and the camaraderie among the Avengers felt stronger than ever.
…
As you wait for the elevator to your room, you can´t help but smile. After a long day, today was really good. After you reached your room it didn’t took you long enough to fall asleep.
...
"MY BEST FRIEND CAME HOME AND NO ONE TOLD ME?!" You hear a voice yell at you. Before you can open your eyes, your hit with what felt like pillow.
"Huh?!" You blink a few times to get use to the light in your room.
"WHEN DID YOU CAME? HOW LONG ARE YOU HERE-" Now it was your turn to take the pillow and throw it at the person. As you finaly focus you notice that it´s Spider-boy himself.
"What time is it?" You mumble, still being half asleep.
"6 A.M. BUT WHY DID NO ONE TOLD ME YOU´RE-" And he is hit with another pillow.
"Don´t yell, please," you rub your eyes.
"You´re not happy to see me?" Peter sits next to you on the bed.
"I'm excited to see you, but maybe not with the yelling and at a more reasonable hour than 6 freaking A.M. I'll be much happier." You smile as you open your arms, inviting him into a nice early morning hug.
"Why did no one told me you´re back? I´m always the last one to know things." Peter whines dramatically as he pulls away from the hug.
"Well Tony told me you went with MJ and May on a dinner, so that´s why he didn´t want to ruin it." You shrug, "Anyways how are things with you and MJ?" You raise your eyebrow and he blushes a bit.
"Things are good, really really good, (Y/N). And yesterday dinner with May was really good, we all had fun." You smile at his response.
"I´m really glad." You are happy for you friend, it took him ages to finally confess to her. "Do you.. uh do you know Kate?" You look at him as Peter nods his head, "well... I met her yesterday, and we had a little converstaion on the roof and... she is nice. Really nice. Clint chose a good person" You say with a little blush on your face.
"Oh my god- is she like really really really nice?" He teases.
"Yeah..." You smile, knowing that Peter got your message.
"That is cute. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has a crush. Awww." Peter chuckles.
"Eww stop. I don´t know if it´s a crush, maybe it is... but you- " Peter cuts you off.
"Can´t tell anyone. Got it. Don´t worry. But under one condition..." Peter points up a finger.
"And that will be?"
"You have to talk to her, actually talk to her. Not just you´re super topic about the weather." You always talked to people about weather, when there was nothing else to do and you were dying to save the conversation.
"Easy." You smirk.
Spider-boy raises his eyebrows, "Easy? Let me bet, that you you will forget your own name when she looks at you."
"Oh shut up." You get out of the bed, taking just some oversized hoodie, since you already have a black swetapants and a shirt. "And since you woke me up this early, you´re making me a breakfast." Peter just nods as you two walk into the elevator.
...
When Peter starts to make you some pancakes, Carol walks in.
"There you are! I´m leavin for now, but-" You didn´t let her finish, you just rush to give her a warm long hug.
"I know. Just be careful and don´t forget to take care of yourself." The blonde one smiles.
"Copy that. So... see you later?"
"See you later, Cap." You salute her, which makes her laugh. And with that, Carol went into the skies once more and this time you hope you will see her sooner than in 6 months. The sentence 'see you later' is always better than a goodbye.
As you and Peter swap stories, reliving the adventures and crazy story times. Before he can finish his story about training with Bucky, a dark-haired girl strolled in, catching your attention.
"Morning." She smiles at you and then looks at Peter. Her raspy deep morning voice, messy hair and gray sweatpants with a white tanktop is something no one prepered you for.
"Hi, hello, morning, good- one!" Kate smile just widens and she goes past you to the fridge to get a fresh orange jucie.
Peter leans in closer and mumbles. "You owe me 10 bucks," having the most arrogant smile on his face. You just slap his arm.
"Can I get some pancakes too, please?" Kate watches as Peter flips another one on the plate.
"Of course!" He starts to make a few more, until he looks at his phone, "oh no! I completly forgot. (Y/N) watch the pancakes. I have to go, but you ladides have a good morning!" Peter gives you his spatula and even though Kate just nods and sits down, you know what his plan is.
"Bye Peter." You stare at him, but deep down you´re glad that you can spent some alone time with the archer.
He just sends you a wink and leaves the room.
"Need any help with the toppings?" Kate asks, watching you finish the rest of the pancakes.
"N-no, I've got it. I mean, I can handle it. Thank you, though."
Kate chuckles softly, noticing your nervousness. "You seem a bit flustered. Everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, just... morning jitters, I guess. I'm not a morning person."
"I see." She smiles.
"Do you have any plans for today?" You look up from the pan.
"Just the usual, a bit of training, maybe some archery with Clint later." Kate asnwers as you put some pancakes infront of her. As Kate tries the pancakes, you feel a sense of relief mixed with a tinge of excitement.
"The pancakes turned out pretty great! Anyway, how about we plan something fun for later? Maybe a movie night?" Kate say while finishing her last piece.
"Sounds perfect! I'd love that, Kate." Oh maybe early mornings are not so bad.
...
Over the next month, the bond between you and Kate flourishes, evolving into a deep and cherished friendship. Training sessions become a shared routine, where sparring sessions turn into moments of encouragement and laughter, each victory and defeat strengthening the relationship between you. Kate's guidance and support during training sessions spark a newfound confidence within you, making each session not just about physical exertion but also about trust and shared goals.
Movie nights become a beloved tradition, the occasional heated debate over the best movie snacks were on daily basis. It's these moments, cozy and intimate, where you find yourself drawn further into the orbit of Kate's infectious personality, her laughter becoming the soundtrack of your nights.
Walking Lucky, Kate's faithful companion, becomes a cherished routine. You find comfort in these quiet moments, admiring Kate's easygoing nature and her love for Lucky, feeling your admiration for her grow stronger with each passing day.
Yet, as your friendship blossoms, so do the feelings within you. What started as little crush has transformed into something deeper, a warmth that lingers whenever you're near Kate, a longing that grows with each shared laugh and meaningful glance. But you bury these feelings deep, treasuring the friendship too much to risk changing its dynamics.
thank you for reading! hopefully you’ll love this new series!!! 💕💖💞
#adele writes#kate bishop x fem!reader#kate bishop x reader#kate bishop#marvel fanfiction#marvel#hailee steinfeld#avengers x reader
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Those last 2 episodes. Appropriately titled ‘Heart Part 1’ and ‘Heart Part 2’ because my heart is so full. I have so much to say and have no idea where to start with it.
So much happened. Every lead character’s individual arc was thoroughly concluded in a very satisfying way. Even some of the recurring ones got an endgame so there’s a lot to cover in this recap of a fantastic finale and I feel so fulfilled on great storytelling and great representation packed into a neatly tied up ending.
MAJOR SPOILERS: do not read this if you have not seen the finale of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.
I guess I’ll start with Shadow Weaver because she had an endgame that I had predicted. Well, sort of. I said that Shadow Weaver’s arc can only go in 1 of 2 ways. I said it was either personal attainment (villainy) or personal sacrifice (heroism). So I wasn’t surprised when it was the latter. But I wasn’t able to trust in her going that way sincerely until she started attacking that monster, told Catra that she was proud of her, took off her mask and then told them both ‘you’re welcome’. I couldn’t trust that she was sincerely helping them to achieve releasing and channelling the Heart of Etheria’s magic… which by the way, is what almost brought them to the brink of destruction the first time they tried to do it. However, I understood that because She-Ra was the conduit for that, that it could have a different outcome. Still destructive but destructive only to the opposition. I think anyway. I might have to rewatch that part again because I don’t think I fully understood what was going on there. But yes, Shadow Weaver went out in a heroes death rather than was the cause of her own demise out of hunger for power and a desire to attain the magic of the Heart Of Etheria for selfish aim. I was happy with it.
Glimmer and Bow: I decided to talk about these 2 lead characters together since part of their arc involves each other. It was no surprise to me that they would declare their love for each other. I mean Glimmer has always had a crush on Bow and they’ve been the very best of friends since they were children. I wasn’t sure about Bow at first but I knew intense romantic feelings would develop and I’m glad it was Glimmer who said it first. I am a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a kiss on the lips but I think I understand why that was. I’ll get there. Be patient. There’s way too much to talk about first and I really want to save Catradora until the very last section because I’ll have the most to say about them as a lot of their arc informs well… pretty much the whole TV show.
Glimmer individually had more of an arc in the TV show than Bow did so a significant amount of my meta goes to her. It was mainly how she was fairing as Queen but also how useful she could be to the team because of it. Then of course there was Micah. Reuniting with him but having to battle with him because he was an unwilling agent of Horde Prime. I laughed with pure joy when the influence on him ended and he said “Hi, I’m your dad.” I really felt for Glimmer when she was desperately trying to heal him and she said “I won’t lose another parent!” So it was so satisfying for me to realize she healed him and that she poured all the love she could into that heal and when she succeeded, the proud smile that he wore must have made her feel like Queen of the world, never mind just her little town of Brightmoon. She deserves it.
Likewise it was wonderful to see how proud Bow’s dads were of him when he gave that rousing battle speech to the reawakened masses of Etherians, telling them to be their own warriors and fight for their home. It was right that it was Bow to do that rather than Adora or Glimmer because that is what he had trained himself to do from the beginning. He wants to be an archer battling on the side of the greater good and not a historian. So to see his dads holding each other, proudly watching him… it brought a tear to my eye, I have to admit. So beautiful!
Hordak and Entrapta: I had no idea that I would get a closure for Entrapta, let alone Hordak. I did and I’m so happy about it because even though she was only a recurring character, Entrapta buried her way into my science, tech and engineering loving heart (with a spanner and a blowtorch? You will never know 🤣) but I am glad that she got over her obsession enough to focus on what really mattered. Saving her friends.
The fact that what stopped Horde Prime wasn’t Adora or Glimmer or who you would expect, but Hordak and Entrapta? That hit so hard with me. To give THEM the hero moment of defeating the villain. I was like “Oh my god! That’s brilliant!” Because it is. Think about it. Who do you think Horde Prime tortured the most? His Little Brother! I still don’t know if that was literally or not. 🤷♀️ Was he actually related or was he just another clone because he did call Catra his “Little Sister” too? That’s still so creepy to me. But yeah, for Hordak to get that moment of retribution was absolutely delicious for me and then for Entrapta to reach him when Horde Prime tried to take over through the Hive Mind? So, so, good! That made total sense and it was brilliantly executed!
Scorpia and Mermista: The only reason to lump these 2 characters together is because they were chipped and controlled the longest that they caused significant damage to Etherians. There’s not really much to say about them other than that they’re going to have huge headaches now that this is all over due to how far gone they were. I mean I’m glad that they were able to save them but I just don’t know what the aftermath will be for them or whether they will be the same ever again.
From the way I watched and interpreted the TV show, I understood that one of the main narrative themes of it was psychological conditioning and I’ve been in awe that this children’s show was brave enough to tell that very dark story,… let alone see it right through until the end because it’s an ambitious, elaborate and difficult narrative undertaking. Especially to do it properly,… which they definitely did. To tell the darkness of… well… basically radicalization and genocide but to do so in such a way that it could teach and motivate kids to develop on their innate judgement and discernment so if - god forbid - they ever end up in that situation, they’ll know exactly what to do about it. With team She-Ra being their idols, they’ll be able to fight conditioning. I can imagine that’s what the creators intended with this and I cannot acknowledge and commend them on it high enough. I think that ND Stevenson and the entire creative team are incredibly courageous and amazing to make this a main thematic narrative all throughout this TV show and handle it with skill and compassion that it does not once come across as too much for PG.
Catradora: (Yes, I’m using the ship name because the way they tie up their individual character storyline arcs seamlessly also ties in with their romantic arc and you do not know how hard it is to find this with WLW ships.)
First off, I want to point out something that may or may not have been pointed out before with Catradora but this is just how it came across to me in the narrative given I interpret psychological conditioning as a main theme within it. To me, a lot of the reason why Catra is the way she is as a villainous character when it comes to receiving love and affection has do with this factor. She’s so closed off and repressed to the point that she cannot even see that she’s corrupting and sabotaging herself. She is a lot like Xena in this way. But a major striking difference for Catra is that she physically loses the one person in the world that stops her from doing this, whereas Xena physically gains that one person. Trust issues, abandonment issues, parental issues all tie in together - but that was all tolerable when Adora was around her. As soon as Adora leaves her behind in the Fright Zone and, furthermore, begins to oppose her as the hero of Etheria, she spirals so hard and so fast that all of those issues - which were always issues caused by the abusive treatment from Lord Hordak and Shadow Weaver - come crashing down one by one on top of her because she no longer has the person who makes those issues just inconveniences for her. Not only that but … it feels like personal betrayal for her that Adora fights her. She genuinely does think that Adora hates her. I mean who wouldn’t if they were in her shoes (paws?) and had the “upbringing” and “nurturing” backstory she’s had? So Catra has this preconceived notion that Adora never cared about her and left her because she thought she was better than her and was chasing after heroic glory and believes that she was too weak to go with her. In a way it’s a personal vendetta out of misunderstandings Catra has against Adora and those feelings are intense not just because the Horde brainwashing is that deep and severe but also because her love is that deep too and she can’t differentiate which feelings are which. So she becomes She-Ra’s mortal enemy because in her mind, She-Ra is what has taken Adora away from her.
But obviously, from Adora’s side, She-Ra was sprung on her, Etheria was sprung on her. In fact her entire world upended once she recognized her life for what it was. A lie. That she was the villain brutalizing innocent people. She couldn’t go back to them even if she had wanted to because everything she had ever knew was fraudulent and she had been coerced and deceived into being a weapon. And what I really like about Adora’s individual arc is that eventually this was revealed to be true on both sides of the war. She was a weapon for evil and for the greater good. But all she wanted - as all heroes do - was just to protect and defend her loved ones. That’s it. Catra could never see it that way though and it makes sense that she couldn’t given her conditioning was even worse as it involved one-on-one attacks from Shadow Weaver as well as whatever the treatment was with the entire group. Catra’s psychological conditioning was much more personal, intimate and isolated so what was ingrained into her had much deeper and stronger layers added on to it. Hers was a solid brick wall built trauma complex. Those are always much harder to recognize and escape from but with the right therapy,… it can be done. Given her issues weren’t so bad when Adora was around her but got much worse when Adora left her… it is clear that Adora represented a sort of therapy for her. Adora helped her keep all the crippling thoughts of self-doubt and self-contempt at bay. But they were on full volume when Adora left and kept attempting to kill her.
Okay, so let’s finally get on to their romantic arc and how the finale not only concluded their individual character representation and development arcs but also ended their ship slow burn. It wasn’t until the fantastic episode of ‘Save The Cat’ did I realize they were going there. See,… to start with, I knew that they were going to become a canon WLW couple at some point otherwise I would have never started watching it. That was the draw for me. That they were both lead characters in a canon WLW ship in a children’s TV show. That floored me. But I was not prepared at all for what I got to see in the finale. It was groundbreaking. It was phenomenal. In fact I’m sure it was life changing for many queer kids to see that kiss happen the way it did. Or… just happen on-screen at all. Look, I am so used to the “implied” and “assumed” and “disguised” when it comes to WLW physical intimacy that I just do not ever expect blatant leaves-absolutely-no-doubt-whatsoever kisses. I certainly don’t expect WLW kisses written and portrayed as “the power of love” kind. It’s extremely rare. To see it in a children’s show nailed me to the floor. But furthermore - added on to that astonishing feat - is that both lead characters overcome all their issues and obstacles through that very act like… a fairytale story. It’s like… when the Princess kisses the Princess, all is well… there’s no stopping either from that point on. It seems corny but it all just depends on how it’s done. But the fact is you don’t see it done between WLW at all. So to see it done WELL alongside seeing it done at all… I mean Indy knew that he had an assignment with this but the phrase “he understood the assignment” doesn’t cover or justify what was accomplished with this and I can’t believe it’s took me this long to see it.
Every TV art/entertainment creator should watch this TV show and regard this finale as the perfect example of what queer representation can and should provide in TV because this was just the epitome of what true love is. But the fact it was between 2 female lead characters.
I can’t even begin to explain how much it meant to me but I will spend the rest of my life trying to express it because this really was a groundbreaking achievement and I will be adding this WLW ship to my very short list of WLW ships that shape and satisfy every piece of me.
I have had the best fucking time watching this TV show and I will be doing reruns of it for god knows how long because I am sure there is so much more there for me just like there is with Xena, Buffy, Charmed, Dragon Ball Z, Wynonna Earp and Arcane. All these beloved shows are timeless to me for a reason and She-Ra is the same.
I hope you all enjoyed reading my recaps of my very first watch of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. 🎄
#she-ra and the princesses of power#season 5#episode 12#episode 13#heart part 1#heart part 2#catradora#adora#aimee carrero#catra#aj michalka#glimmer#karen fukuhara#bow#marcus scribner#entrapta#christine woods#hordak#keston john#shadow weaver#lorraine toussaint#scorpia#lauren ash#mermista#vella lovell#character representation#character development#wlw representation#queer representation#spoilers
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The nuns I mentioned? I talked to one of them, a young woman, she lived in a church together with other women, in what they call "modesty" (we had our little debate about that), they don't shave, wear make-up or anything, just their natural selves, and every day they eat together and do whatever it is nuns do. It's a female only community. She told me that she was going on a trip with the other nuns this summer, to a house on the coast, for some spiritual nonsense I didn't care about, but, I thought, in some way they are closer to radical feminism than a lot of so-called radfems out there. Of course it's all nullified by the fact that they worship the male sex and obey the orders of male representatives, real or fictional, but still. They live among women, they frequent only women, they don't date men and many of them don't trust men romantically. And, to be fair, they idolize a female figure called Mary. And so why can they do that, live among women and separate from men, when so many supposed radical feminists say it's impossible and only leads to gloom and doom, a lonely witch living in the woods with her cats and no orgasms. To me it shows that the problem is not that men are essential to women, it's that feminists lack conviction. These nuns have conviction, faith and a crazy amount of ambition, completely deluded yes, but because they believe so firmly, they can practice what they preach. And I know it's not the case of all nuns, but this group was truly determined and excited about their lives. Many radical feminists lack ambition and don't actually believe liberation will feel good and is worth the change. They also don't believe women are worth the effort. There's also this: the nuns I spoke to were moved by optimism, the hope of greatness, happiness, a wonderful reward. And they enjoyed the process that'll get them there. Most radical feminists don't see this in separatism, they don't envision the joy of liberation, they see only fear and loneliness. And they just don't believe it's doable. They just don't. There's no way out of the patriarchy to them, no way out of the male prism. And finally, a not so negligible point, they don't think women can get along. The best motivator is the prospect of joy and self-fulfilment. That's our job as separatists: to put forward the advantages of separatism. Because goddess knows men put a lot of effort into presenting heterosexual relationships as a blissful prospect. Well the truth is, I love being a separatist. I love caring about myself so much, I've loved discovering who I really am and being able to finally be myself and not trying to please anyone, I love respecting myself, I love all the free time I have for myself, I love learning about and meeting other women, I love being safe. My life has improved so much when I stopped caring about men. I feel incredibly lucky to have become a feminist separatist in my 20s. I'm looking at an entire life of being myself, prioritizing women and girls, being independent, resourceful, it's my money, my place, my hobbies, my time, my energy and it's all for myself, my sister, my niece, my female friends and the women I meet (and my dog, okay she counts too.) Literally the only sad thing about being a separatist is that there's not enough women who are doing the same. What a world it would be. Women loving themselves. So, I guess my point is, separatism needs to be promoted not as fleeing from men, but as building our own freedom, the freedom to be ourselves. Because that's exciting and beautiful to experience. There's joy in the reward and joy in the process.
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Thinking About Gojo
Thing that’s so sad about Gojo is every time he’s fucked up it’s bc of his humanity- giving Amanai more time to relax as a normal girl made him use his abilities beyond his limit letting Toji gain the upper hand, letting Geto go without killing him after his first massacre, having Geto’s corpse stolen by Kenjaku bc he didn’t cremate him out of respect, being sealed in Shibuya bc of the shock of his best friend appearing in front of him, not sacrificing the human crowd to kill all the special grades immediately- and he blames himself every time it happens and always tries to make up for it, takes responsibility for all of it- bc he HAS to as “The Strongest”
But at the same time, his humanity is what defines the best parts of him in the first place- what’s the point of his strength if not for his friends and students? He would be leading a meaningless empty existence, much like Toji when he met him. Toji was unstoppable (“the one who cast it all aside”) bc all he was focused on was fighting and winning to the best of his ability, holding nothing back no matter how guilty or innocent his victim was- but was extremely depressed and leading a miserable empty life. Just like Gojo, when Toji tapped into the “human” side of himself during battle (his pride), that was what ultimately caused him to lose the fight. Even when Toji came back as a corpse, he “loses” the fight that he would’ve won easily against Megumi if not for the love he has for his son, tapping into his humanity again. The times Toji felt at peace and truly happy at the end of both of his lives was when he was caring for his son- telling Gojo to take care of him, then confirming his abusive family didn’t raise him. Losing his humanity lets him win his battles, but leaves him isolated and aimless. Embracing his humanity fatally kills him, but leaves him happy and fulfilled.
(Gojo also loses his first round against Toji bc he got distracted thinking about protecting Amanai!)
Humanity is what fucks both of them up in battle, but without it, they have nothing but empty strength. They’d just be monsters like Sukuna.
Curse you Gege for making the only thing worth fighting for in their lives their greatest weakness. When I catch you cat man.
Gojo does not have a god complex, though being the strongest has undoubtably made him arrogant…but like who wouldn’t be at his level of power lol? What Gege focuses on when Gojo’s strength is highlighted in the series is how lonely and isolated Gojo felt bc of it. The way he uses his strength very transparently tells you what he actually cares about- the people around him. Gojo wants to laugh with his friends and have a world where his students will not suffer the same trauma as he has. To be able to stand on their own two feet without him. He uses it to protect. Sukuna transparently uses his power to fight powerful opponents and make others suffer.
Think people mistake it as a god complex bc “I am the honored one” and his lowkey sadistic joy of battle- that’s more him feeling good bc he finally gets moments where he can use this freak strength of his he always keeps docile bc he is way too strong for anyone to be a fair match to him 90% of the time. He is a different type of living organism. Pookie just tweaks here and there it’s fine he’s blowing off steam 😊💖 (but fr imagine having all his power and just…sitting all day bc nothing can challenge you) (I think he just be bored and feeling understimulated so he gets a lil too excited when he gets to stretch bye)
He was FORCED to evolve, power wasn’t smtg he was obsessively seeking out. Still isn’t. He wasn’t able to deploy Red or RCT at the beginning of Hidden Inventory, and he didn’t care beyond being a lil frustrated- like having a homework assignment he couldn’t understand. He was happy when both him AND Geto were labeled as The Strongest. He loved having a proper rival for strength- someone to understand him. He values connection with others much more than raw strength.
It’s not a god complex. It’s quite literally him acknowledging the undeniable fact that he is the strongest and having to take care of the world bc of it. He is actively trying not to be the only card to use against curses by training his students. He knows PAINFULLY well that for all the power he has, he is just one man in one body in the end. He cannot be everyone’s trump card everywhere at once. Unfortunately the Shibuya Incident proved this to be the case- when he’s gone everything goes to straight hell, everyone dies, and his students end up traumatized but evolved in power like he did in the past. As well as abandoned by jujutsu society after being used to their marrow.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#sidrabbles#like i can goon and properly appreciate the series/character at the same time ok#yuji didnt need this insane trauma to evolve his power listen#he evolved just fine with todo v hanami without needing 10 of the closest ppl around him to die first 😭#todo always comes in clutch#truly a brother
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I have a yandere Neuvillette concept that has been haunting me, especially in regard to how you write him cause I really loved your series on him :3c
So imagine a Neuvillette after he kidnapped darling. He understands why you're upset, and though he will not let you go he does feel a little guilty about keeping you with him. He justifies it by telling himself (and you) that it is for your own safety and protection.
BUUUUUUT imagine Neuvillette judging a trial where the defendant did the EXACT same thing. They kidnapped someone and help them against their will for several months. The defendant implores to him and the audience that they did it to protect the victim, they did it for love.
I think Neuvillette has overseen many trials where the defendant broke the law but still had a sympathetic reason to do so - like a person who killed in self defense or someone who stole to survive. Unfortunately, I don't think there is any canon material that explores this (as far as I know - hopefully I am wrong), but I think a non-yandere Neuvillette would not let his judgement be completely clouded by the defendant's motives. They still broke the law so off to Meropide they go, but he knows when to be lenient and understanding about it.
Back to yandere Neuvillette, this trial puts him between a rock and a hard place. This defendant did the exact same thing Neuvillette did to you, he understands their motives very well. If this is a post-Archon quest Fontaine then he has complete control over the defendant's fate. Should he judge this defendant fairly, as he had with millions of ever? If he sends the defendant to Meropide, then doesn't this mean Neuvillette is guilty in the eyes of the law as well? Deep down, does he secretly think he is above the law? That his darling's well being is more important than any legislation?
But if he declares the defendant not guilty then what will this mean for the future of Fontaine? Other criminals may see this and realize that doing things for "love" is a morally sound motive to the fair Iudex. Crime, especially kidnapping related ones, might increase! The people would question why the Chief Justice declared someone not guilty when they CLEARLY committed a heinous crime. Victims of similar crimes in Fontaine might not see Neuvillette has a pillar of justice, but of someone who undermines it (a harsh realization that you had to go through when he kidnapped you).
I imagine that whatever Neuvillette's decision is, he's a little shaken up after the trial. He goes home and seeks your (unwilling) comfort, pulling you into his arms for an embrace, even if you protest and try to slip away. He treats you a little differently afterwards; maybe he relaxes on the rules and regulations he enforced on you and gives you a bit more freedom, or maybe he doubles down on his decision to keep you and gets more frustrated when you fight back.
This made me so happy! TY for sending! 😊 I love to talk about this kind of stuff. I wish I got to do it more. I'm placing this under a cut, with warnings just to be safe.
Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI
Neuvillette's grey area. It's my favorite thing about him.
Here's what makes him fun. He knows how to work the law(s) to his advantage. We see that with the traveler in 4.1. Neuvillette "invents" charges for the traveler to be sent to Meropide. He does so by getting them to commit a petty crime in the form of eating Furina's discarded cake. The traveler is unaware of said crime until they're sent to the actual fortress. Only then do they realize that Neuvillette pulled a harmless fast one on them. Later, we see him do it again when he goes behind Furina's back for the sake of the nation. I'm sure he felt horrible about it and tried to apologize afterwards, but he still went through with it because there was a greater good that needed to be fulfilled.
Same kind of principle applies here. Your safety is everything to him. Up until he finds you, he believes you to be in mortal danger. I imagine the moment of you just walking out all fine was a bit anticlimactic for him, but he would definitely take that over the alternative.
Through the power of his office, Neuvillette tricks the reader into coming with him vs taking them by force. The confinement portion gets a little stickier in terms of the laws. Neuvillette's reasons for taking you are sound. Those same reasons carry through to him keeping you. He was worried. He was concerned. As one of the leaders of Fontaine, he's merely performing his duty in protecting you. He can't guarantee your safety from the perceived threat if you go home. No, it's better if you stay with him until the threat passes, which could be never btw. Just because the serial k*ller has been caught, doesn't mean there aren't others who would seek to do you harm. The mafia/cartels or even the fatui are still lurking. All it would take is one report that lists potential targets with a description that vaguely matches yours and he's set with his excuse.
Just as an aside, in my mind, Neuvillette carries some built in immunity. He has a sterling reputation. It’s not fully mentioned in the story, but even if he were accused of a crime, who would believe that person? He’s the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Someone who is purposefully written above reproach in the eyes of the population. He’s not infallible, but I feel like it would take a ton of convincing for anyone to believe Neuvillette had broken the law. Then there’s the matter of who judges him? Neuvillette is the judge. Who judges the judge in a nation with no archon?
In terms of the poor soul that has found their way before him, Neuvillette would 100% find that individual guilty regardless of his actions. Laws are laws and Neuvillette's main purpose in the story is uphold those laws. Where it gets iffy is how that person is sentenced. What is the appropriate level of justice for the crime? One could argue that the reader has already extracted a specific level of justice from Neuvillette based on how they treat him. How he feels about the trial afterwards is an interesting debate. Where Neuvillette and you start vs where you end in the series are two very different places. Since we’re talking specifically about the post-archon quest relationship between the two, I’m not sure how shaken he would be. The relationship is in a very different place from where the first story picks up. I can see him visiting his past feelings on the subject and briefly questioning specific things, but in the end it doesn’t matter to him based on how the series ends.
Still, for the purpose of this though, I can see him going home and bringing you close. How willing you want to be is up to you. 😊
#genshin impact#genshin#genshinimpact#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere neuvillette x reader#yandere neuvillette#neuvillette#chief justice neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin impact fanfic#anonymous asks#anonymous
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I am Names. You can call me that if you want. To friends… how about Friend? To strangers, Stranger. To those who dislike me, how about Odious? To those I dislike, I can be Vile. If you're unsure, how about Ilk? Or, if you like… you can give me your name, and I'll give you a new one. We could even share. But what are names, exactly? They are titles, they are windows. They are promises and self-fulfilling prophecies. They are identities and they are masks. They are opportunities and chains. Names have power, more power than you might think. So, think carefully… what shall your Name be?
Names (mirrored/any), Edeia of Names. My little indulgence for a fae-inspired Edeia! Definitely just inspiration though. Folklore was not referenced for accuracy.
(They definitely play the "may I have your name" / "may I have your pronouns" game.)
More about them below the cut! And even more about them on TH.
Edeia Site | Edeia Discord | Personal Website
About Names
The Edeia generally known as Names has many names, and many facets of their self to go along with them. Some might think of the countless names as false identities, but for Names, each name they use is one real to them, one in which they'd found themself. They enjoy testing the limits of who they are, who they could be, and who they want to be.
Names also enjoys playing "games"… where they are always at an advantage in one way or another, and/or at no risk of loss. These include deals, gambles, and other arrangements they find interesting. For instance, even if another offers their Name, Names will never offer theirs—if they even have any risk of loss, besides their magic power. One example of a gamble they might play with a human is that if the human wins, they'll give them a name sure to bring them great financial success and stability; if the human loses, they'll give them a name of a pariah. They don't care too much about the outcomes for these humans; they're just as happy to laugh at someone as they are to laugh with someone, generally speaking.
Names does like to give a fair chance, however—or fair enough, however you look at it. They've crafted their abilities so that others' Names aren't immediately revealed to them, for one. They'll avoid finding out others' names and other forms of address outside of interacting with them directly, as it's part of their "game" of getting to know others.
They also enjoy all sorts of music and dance; they collect every kind of instrument and try to learn it, and like to learn all sorts of dances (with a preference for folk dances). They also create their own instruments, compose their own songs, and choreograph their own dances. In their games, a human might find themself relieved that their loss penalty or price for a deal is simply to teach Names a dance, a song, how to use a certain instrument, or an instrument itself. Names might invite others, including humans and Edeia, into their Abstraction for a festival of song and dance.
Names is unrepentantly themself in all their names. They have made themself into exactly who they want to be, after all. They can enjoy good company and friendship, though they don't particularly care if others dislike or grow to dislike them; they are just as happy in solitude, in their music and dance, and in their "games."
History
Names was once an Identity—rather, they were a human that would have become one. Let's call them Ming (名, Míng, meaning 'name'). They were born among the Chinese landed gentry during the Tang Dynasty with the Idea of Identity, and they grew up highly aware of the kinds of identities others had around them. They were particularly drawn to others' names, however: how the names affected them, how those names affected others. Many they knew had two, three, or more—their given name, courtesy name, art name (pseudonyms, or hào), nicknames, and perhaps other titles.
As they grew older and made their own name for themself—or perhaps names for themself—they indulged in the experience of giving and receiving names. Names exchanged with Ming had some magic power imbued in them at that time, though not too much.
It was when Ming met another Actualized Identity, who revealed Ming's state, that Ming realized their magical potential and began experimenting with the extent of their abilities. Through their experimentation, they felt that they did not simply want to be another Identity. They had their own names. They were more than just an "Identity." They sought a deeper understanding of themself, considering each of their names and what they meant; eventually, Ming was, through their magic, able to define their Name. Then, by knowing their Name, they became able to change the essence of themself. Without hesitation, they altered their state of being an Identity to being their own self, and named their Idea as Names.
At the moment of their changes settling in, they felt themself at a threshold, and Actualized.
Names traveled often after that, making their way across various parts of the globe. They stayed for quite a while in Europe, delighted and fascinated by the cultures, and having their fun with humans in certain areas. Names and the activity of some other Edeia around this time led to more and more tales of fae, and Names enjoyed taking on the name of Fae to play around with the people, playing up to that name while still being no less true to themself.
When the time for the Age of Secrecy hit, Names played along with Order's game as well. It was fun to see what they could do within the bounds of secrecy—how for they could go without receiving a warning. As it turns out, quite a bit—so long as humans didn't know there was magic, they could be as superstitious as they wanted, and Names's games worked well in the realm of secrets and uncertainties. They traveled often, sometimes blending their Abstraction with a real forest and inviting in guests to come and get lost in music and dance. After a night of revelry, the human visitors would find themselves asleep in their homes, thinking the experience a fun dream.
After Reunion began, Names continued their games—and was much more open about their existence. They registered with Data and occasionally visited reunited society (often to learn music and dance), but preferred to travel, spend time in their Abstraction, and draw people in to play their "games."
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I hear you're in need of ideas ! I won't be offended if you're not inspired by my ask , we love creative choice here !! So I have a bit of an aversion to the smell of weed because ✨ trauma ✨ I have nothing against it or anything. But I was thinking maybe just something a little angsty with a happy ending about how Eddie would react and deal with that as your boyfriend. Lots of love 💕
This is such an interesting request, so I am more than happy to fulfill it!
Eddie x gender neutral!reader
cw: mention of weed, hurt/comfort
Not proofread!
As soon as you started dating Eddie, you were quick to let him know about your aversion to the smell of weed. With him smoking it all of the time and always having it on hand because he sold the stuff, you felt like it was important for him to know. Just like always, he was so accommodating, making sure to shower after he smoked or made a deal. He insisted that it wasn’t a big deal but you weren’t so sure.
And to Eddie, it really wasn’t a big deal. He would do whatever he could to make you happy and that included a little shower before coming to see you after he handled the stuff. He really didn’t mind and an extra shower here and there really didn’t hurt.
But despite his reassurance, you still felt bad. That was one of the few things that calmed him down and now he had to take a few extra steps to make sure he didn’t smell like the stuff before he could come see you. You didn’t think it was fair.
One night after his shower, Eddie snuck into your room, smelling like nothing but the shampoo you had bought him, his hair still damp, signifying that he hadn’t showered that long ago. He pushed you down onto your bed eagerly and threw himself on top of you before pressing kisses to your lips, but you weren’t in the mood for once.
You turned your head and he leaned up, turning your face back to him so he could see it. He wanted to know what was wrong. You had never looked so uncomfortable around him. Eddie was always your safe space. The person you could come to with anything about now you were looking at him with a pained expression that he had never seen before.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?”
“Nothing,” you shook your head and normally, Eddie would have left it at that, but this was clearly bothering you so he had to get to the bottom of it.
“You can tell me. Whatever it is, I won’t be mad.”
“Promise?” You put your pinky out.
“Promise,” he replied with a nod and hooked his pinky around yours before giving it a shake.
“Well, I just-I feel really bad that you have to shower all the time after smoking or doing a deal. It’s just an extra step you shouldn’t have to take and I feel awful that you keep having to do it for me.” Your words came out so fast that Eddie almost didn’t understand what you were saying.
“I mean, I know you do it because you care about me, but I feel like I’m being selfish. What if-what if we just took a break?” That was not at all where he thought the conversation was going to go and there was no way that he was letting you break up with him. The only way the two of you would be apart was if one of you passed away. He was never letting you go as long as he lived.
“Woah,” he rested his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s not take drastic measures, hon. We’re not taking a break, okay? I know you feel guilty, but you don’t have to, baby. I really don’t mind showering before I come see you. I like using that nice shampoo you got me and like to make my hair look nice before I come and see my girl,” he smiled. “You’re not being selfish at all. I like doing stuff for you and making sure that you’re taken care of. And if that means taking a few extra showers every week, then so be it. I love you and I want to be with you for as long as I can.”
“You love me?” Your face lit up at the words. He had never said them to you before and now you knew that you were just being silly. Of course he wasn’t mad at you. Eddie couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.
“So damn much,” he sighed.
“I love you too.”
“Now give me some sugar, sugar. Daddy needs a kiss.” He puckered his lips and you just shoved him away.
“Ew, not if you keep calling yourself that,” you laughed but gave him a kiss anyway, so grateful to have him in your life. Someone who would love you unconditionally even if you were acting irrationally. Someone who would love you until his very last breath.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x gender neutral reader#eddie munson hurt/comfort
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