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serendipityandbenevolence · 10 months ago

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Capitano x GN Reader (SAGAU)

Am I writing this nearly a year after I said I would? Yes. My bad gang, the procrastination got the better of me. Honestly, looking back over my old writing on this account, I’m shocked I didn’t do Capitano sooner because I was/am obsessed with this tall, beefy man. (ngl, while reading some of my old writing, i was kicking my feet a little, past me was lowkey good at writing when I wanted to be). This is loosely based around what I was planning on writing for him last year, so hopefully it fits well into the story?

Contains - Capitano being actually so whipped for you, him trying to keep his distance and failing miserably, he ignores you for like a minute and you end up contemplating your life choices (real, i'm so not projecting here), he is very insecure about not being good enough for you (despite being the perfect man), dottore is lowkey more likeable here than in his own ending, mentions of murder, obsessive behaviour from all the fatui

Part one is here - the masterlist for the other endings is here

“Capitano?”

It almost surprised you quickly the Harbingers fell silent, as though even one word from you had stolen the air from their lungs, their arguments trailing away into a deafening silence. You waited, a confusing mix of anticipation and fear filling your chest as you stared at the half-opened door.

But no one came.

There were soft whispers and retreating footsteps, shadows that crept across your room as people bustled around in the hallway (Was it a hallway? Or another room? You couldn’t be certain). You heard a cold female voice giving hushed orders, but even her voice faded as you waited uneasily for some recognition of your words, of your pleading call for Capitano.

But no one came.

He had been there, outside your door, you knew that for certain. You heard him, condemning the other nations for attacking you, another Harbinger had even called him by name. So why was is, that when you called his name, he did not answer? Was he too busy, too disinterested, too proud, to speak with you? The door remained unmoving, and you began to wish that you had never said anything in the first place, even as you refused to look away from the door.

But no one came.

It had been a mistake, you decided. Whatever offence you had somehow caused him was clearly great enough for him to ignore you, to reject your pleading request for him, to turn his back on the chambers that you rested in. Perhaps, when the other Harbingers returned, you could ask them to pass along your sincerest apologies to your favourite Harbinger (although you would not mention that he was your favourite to them). Maybe that would heal whatever rift had apparently formed between-

“Your Grace?”

Capitano stood in the doorway, straight-backed and with his hands clenched at his sides. Even a cursory glance could tell you that he was not thrilled about having to be in your presence.

“I’m sorry for my tardiness. I was asking the other Harbingers if any of them were able to attend to you in my stead, but it seems they are … unavailable.”

He slowly stepped into the room and made his way over to the fireplace, keeping a large distance between the two of you as he did so, refusing to step too close to the bed you sat in.

“If you have any pressing concerns or questions, I can pass them along to the other Harbingers or to the Tsaritsa. I’m afraid that I will be of little help to you, but I will see to it that the others are aware of your needs.”

This was worse than being ignored, you decided. His cold, impersonal words, his desire to keep his distance from you, even his stiff posture, it also pointed to one thing. He hated you. He could barely stand to be in a room with you, let alone make conversation with you.

You felt silly all of a sudden, for thinking that your favourite character would hold any sort of affection towards you. You felt a sudden tightness in your throat, and had to fight back the tears that threatened to appear.

“I’m very sorry to bother you so trivally, Capitano. I had just wished to speak to you, but if you are busy, I will not keep you. Please, return to your duties.”

You were impressed by how steady you were able to keep your voice, even as you still fought back tears. But Capitano did not move, instead he almost seemed to tense up more.

“I did not mean-” To your shock his voice wavered more than yours and his composed facade seemed to crumble in an instant.

“It is not that I do not wish to serve you, I just… I don’t … I can’t…”

He hesitantly took a step forward, then another, before falling to his knees by your bedside. You watched, mind still reeling at how quickly his demeanour had changed, as his shaking, gloved hands clutched at his chest, as though he feared his heart might stop at any moment.

“Please, I beg you, do not hate me! I could not- I cannot live with myself if you think I adore anyone or anything else more than you. But I cannot serve you, I am not worthy. I failed you, when you arrived at Zapolyarny Palace, I was unable to help you! I am-”

His frantic words were cut off with a sudden sob, and tears began to appear at the bottom of his mask, dripping down his chin. His breaths were shallow and desperate, with his hands upon his chest digging into his flesh more with every passing moment.

“Capitano…” You whispered softly, still trying to make sense of his suddenly erratic behaviour, while also wanting to soothe whatever pain he was suffering.

“I am not like the other Harbingers. I am useless to you, Divine One. When you were brought to the palace, I was asked to bring you upstairs, so the Doctor could operate on you, but I was too scared. I feared that if I touched you, you would shatter to pieces in my grasp. My hands were not made to be gentle and you were already so close to death, I could not do it. The boy, Tartaglia, was the one who carried you in the end. I was too cowardly.”

“You don’t need to compare yourselves to the others, Capitano. You were merely concerned for my safety.”

“You do not understand. The Doctor brought every one of his segments home so they could operate on you together. When your wound became infected and a fever took you, Signora lay by your side and kept you cool, even as your skin burned. Pantalone has not slept since you arrived and he will not sleep, he says, until your chambers are furnished to perfection. Arlecchino has sent out every member of the House of the Hearth to kill those who dared to harm you, with orders to return with their heads as proof. And I sit here, idle, unable to assist you. The reason the other Harbingers could not attend to you, is because they are already doing so. I fail you, Your Grace, by being unable to find a way of serving you!”

You found yourself quite lost for words, unsure of how to respond to Capitano’s increasingly defeated behaviour. You weren’t really sure what you expected from The Captain, but this was definitely not it. His sadness and self-loathing made you want to ease his mind somehow, to find him a purpose that would hopefully make him, your favourite, feel more wanted.

“I think … I think I might sleep now, Capitano.”

He merely nodded, before turning his face away from you and shakily standing once more.

“But-!” You lunged forward, grabbing him by his arm before he could move out of your grasp. His head whipped around, mask concealing whatever emotions his face might have shown.

“But I was wondering if you might stay? With all those people who tried to kill me, I would feel quite unsafe, sleeping alone and defenceless. I need someone strong to protect me and how fortunate am I that you do not have other duties to attend to, but can instead stay by my side!”

You paused, holding your breath, hoping that would be enough to convince him. He stared at you (at least, you assumed he was staring at you, the mask made it difficult) for a long moment, long enough that you began to wonder if he had even heard you properly.

“You want me to protect you, Your Grace? I… Yes. Yes, I can do that. Just- Just give me a moment.”

And he was gone, his arm pulled from your grasp, and his cloak swishing out the door. You barely had time to wonder what he had left for, before he returned. With a chair under one arm and a truly massive blade under the other, he swiftly reentered the room, positioning the chair right beside your bed.

“There. Is that all right, Divine One? Do you need me to sit closer, or further away?”

“No, no, it’s fine, Capitano.” You laughed, grateful that he seemed more … positive? At the very least, he didn’t appear to be as miserable as before.

You lay back down, turning to face Capitano, who was balancing the sword across his lap as he watched you. Under normal circumstances, the idea of sleeping in the same room as somebody with a sword would have freaked you out, but with the stress of the last few days catching up to you, you found yourself more tired than you had realised.

You stretched a hand out towards Capitano wordlessly, who eyed it apprehensively.

“Can you hold my hand?”

He stared at your hand for a few more moments, before slowly placing his own hand upon yours, so softly that you could barely feel it.

“Sweet dreams, Your Grace.”

Finally, we got there! Hopefully yall like this, i feel like the ending is a bit rushed, but god I love a man who pines. I’m probably going to write Pantalone next, this lowkey gave me some ideas for his ending. I’m also thinking about writing some non sagau stuff, I've got some thoughts about arranged marriage stuff with diluc and ayato <3

#genshin impact #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #yandere genshin #genshin headcanons #capitano x reader #capitano genshin #sagau x reader #sagau

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buggybambi · 6 months ago

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Lmao imagine The Bear staff thinking it would be funny to have their waitress (who can’t cook to save her life) take on Family for the night, this being the second time, the first time she tried, Richie was like, “You work in a restaurant, you can’t be THAT bad… can you??” But after having severely burned macaroni, they didn’t ask her again until they thought it’d be funny to have her try to make Family a second time. BUT when she brings out the food it came out to be SUPER delicious and high quality food and they’re all like “???” Well it happens to be that Carmy conveniently left the table him and his staff were sitting at (when waiting for her to make the food) for a “smoke break”, really he went to go help his favorite waitress (that he’s most certainly in love with… and she loves him too hehe)

hi yeah this is so me core also my sincerest apologies for not getting to this sooner my loveliest! but this just makes me giggle.

the first time you are in charge of family, it goes so bad. you had warned them that it wouldn't end well, but they insisted. "you work in a kitchen, how bad can you be?" that question was answered when you dropped the pot of burnt pasta on the table, your hands on your hips.

"how did you- you work in a kitchen!" tina points out. "yeah, as a waitress! you guys are the fancy chefs." you counter.

the next time it rolls around, it gets dropped on you since tina is out sick at the last minute. "do we not remember what happened last time?" you ask when syd informs you of the change.

"don't worry, it'll be fine." carm reassures you. and it was! because he snuck into the kitchen to help you make some fancy ass food that actually has richie examining it like it could be poisioned.

"how did you manage this shit?" richie asks as he looks at you. you shrug as you take your seat. "i guess it's a miracle." you glance over at carm, who looks at richie.

"miracles, cousin. they happen."

i imagine he wouldn't necessarily stop at helping you during a smoke break but i think he'd also start teaching you and giving you cooking lessons. of course he's so mindful with you because he knows what it was like for him having an awful culinary teacher and he could never yell at you! you're the sweet person he's secretly in love with, the person he adores.

he'd be so proud when you can handle your own with the next time you're selected to host family. he'd even get you your own apron when he's teaching you. and of course we all know how i am going to end this: falling in love over cooking because hello!!

your first kiss with him is in the kitchen when he's teaching you how to make pasta from scratch. it's quiet, it's romantic. you two realizing you love each other after months of silent pining?

it's a miracle.

#maeberzatto #mae's inbox!#mae has mail! 💌#mae's blurbs!#mae blurbs: the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear fx #carmen berzatto blurb #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader

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crowscallthecrows · 5 months ago

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P4 First Kisses

Edgar Redmond/Lawrence Bluewer

Like many with the cursed label of childhood friends, their feelings are mostly repressed for the semblance of normalcy they're so afraid of disturbing. Lawrence himself has convinced his mind that they'd rather spend the rest of their lives watching each other, and even eventually get their own partners, then have their true intents for the other in plain sight.

And he's fine with it. Edgar was and still is a constant nuisance to his logic, a thorn in his side the very moment he makes his presence known just for the sole purpose of Lawrence's torment, a game that never seems to get old.

Edgar's restlessness should be his own problem, but the continued practice of having Lawrence be the cure and distraction was a bothersome practice. Adulthood had Lawrence easily outgrowing the petty fights he and his neighbour would participate in. For Edgar, it's like a drop of any sort of maturity hadn't once entered his body or mind.

He's decided that today of all days is the appropriate time to get on his friend's nerves, poking his shoulder and being an overall bother just for get his attention and reaction. A day so close for Weston's examinations, Lawrence laments silently, and Edgar chooses now.

Though, he thinks over the increasing pressure of a finger in his shoulder, someone like him doesn't choose to be an annoyance on his own accord. Lawrence wouldn't be surprised if this was the fault of pure boredom, once again a call back to their child days where Edgar would beg and beg for him to be his playmate over his liking of books.

It comes to the point where Lawrence can no longer sigh and wait out Edgar's sudden attention span for him. Days like this comes with the knowledge that nipping it in the bud would actually be easier then letting this man child get his fill. Still, doesn't mean he's not going into this annoyed.Lawrence closes his book with a snap and finally meets the brigt eye of his torturer.

"What do you need?" he demands, and he had the sudden urge to massage the bridge of his nose between his fingers with the delight that sparks in Edgar's eyes at the sudden acknowledgment, as he masks it with an easy smile that sends angry prickles up Lawrence's arms.

"Your mind is always stuck on some book," he drawls, flipping a tress of blonde to purposefully hit the lense of his friend's glasses. "-when true beauty is right before your very eyes, which you actively choose to ignore!"

Lawrence inwardly rolls his eyes, patience rolling dangerously thin. He's dealt with this attention shtick more than few times during the year, and althought it was downright exasperating at the repetitiveness, he had memorized every best answer for each set outcome with his loads of experiences.

"Yes, yes, very beautiful," he waves a hand for good measure, hoping it's enough for Edgar to be satisfied with. "It's my sincerest apologies for not noticing such beauty sooner."

Lawrence still isn't sure what triggered the sudden switch, the curveball of such playfulness to a deadpanned leer.

Edgar doesn't miss a beat. "Then kiss me."

There's nothing in Lawrence's script for this: nothing to fall back on to redirect the conversation that resembles what boys his age should be having, instead of the reality of his feelings that Edgar forces them to face.

Maybe it was then that he noticed the horrified expression he could feel his face twisted in, because it's Edgar that uncharacteristically deflates, disappointment laced so thick around fake, boisterous laughter that it make Lawrence feel strange. How stupid your face looked, Lawrence!

And the conversation moves a little too fast, a little too abruptly, as Edgar picks up a previous subject right where they were before, as Lawrence continues to stare, chest aching.

The ache of hurting his best friend stings his heart, how he destroyed such fine courage at his simple ignorance and rebuttal to such an idea, as if Edgar was related to the devil they were taught to fear. He oughta have handed Clayton the title of prefect at his own stupidity in thinking he could dance around the subject for years, with a personality like Edgar's, a personality that has his heart, his mind, and soul. How could he hurt someone like him at an expanse and protection of his own wretched feelings?

Lawrence ignores his confined and screaming mind, reaching over to tuck a stray strand behind Edgar's ear, promptly shutting him up mid sentence. The babble he was spewing was unimportant anyway

He keeps his eyes on his as he moves in close, whispering an apology in bated breath, hoping, despite knowing he has a long way to go before he's able to make up for decades worth of weak-mindedness.

You're beautiful, Edgar, he breathes, before closing the gap between such a space.

Edgar Redmond/Herman Greenhill

"I believe your true distractions lie in the fact that you want to kiss me, Greenhill."

And Herman's automatic reaction is to flush scarlet. Because why wouldn't he when such a pretty face is teasing him like that. To make matters worse, his supposed joke is the 100% mortifying truth.

That mischievous charm Edgar emitted miles before he walked in the room was terribly addicting, and unfortunately, extremely likeable. Ignoring that pull only made his face light up more then was appropriate when the red prefect was around, and within a few weeks of knowing him, Herman was undeniably hooked. Thinking of nothing but relating his name to things for weeks on end.

They happened to catch each other on the way back to their own houses, before deciding that the evening was indeed still young, it's still a few hours till lights out, so why not enjoy it? Edgar assures him that both Maurice and Edward are capable enough to hold the fort for a little while.

Herman hesitantly agrees, letting his sins win, this one time. Even though it wasn't common for prefects to walk together in the after hours of class, it's not like it wasn't allowed. Besides, Edgar seems to be keen on the idea of pushing rules, and he grins at the taller man's unexpected tolerance.

It's a simple walk around Weston's grounds. Other students seem to be are few and far in between and they're enjoying not having to ignore the prying eyes of their peers for once.

The air of dusk makes them happy: it's been a while since having such half private affairs. They're not afraid to face each other today, and their pink dusted cheeks can be chalked up to weather, after all.

Interesting talks about cricket turns to playful banter over Herman's easily avoidable screw up on the field, a blunder that would have cost them the game and made him an embarrassment to all prefects. "Her legs were out for everyone to see! Where in the blazes was I supposed to look-?"

And Edgar laughs, and it’s not mean, and Herman knows it, because Edgar would never be so cruel to wish such malice on him, or anyone he holds so close. He teases him lightly in bright amusement, hand resting on his companion's arm to keep himself from falling over.

I believe your true distractions lie in the fact that you want to kiss me, Greenhill, and Herman swears he catches something wistfull in his tone, something that has his mind reeling. He would never try to catch up to Lawrence, could try for his entire life and never come close, but if he was correct, and if Edgar was implying some sort of hint underneath his jest... the sudden mind breaking possibilities made his head start to spin.

For someone so tough, someone who's cricket skills outmatch anyone in Weston's history, Herman wants to run, run far far away from Edgar, from his school, from everything to keep his sanity that this man clearly loves to test. His heart races like he really had, and he can't even look him in the eye anymore, settling for rubbing the back of his sticky neck, gluing his feet to delay his flee.

May I...? he mumbles in a subtle grunt. But he knows that Edgar, ever attentive, will catch it. He always did.

And he's right (again? Please please please), because the blonde stops walking and so does Herman, arms shaking. His cheeks feel like they're on fire.

The wind suddenly seems to catch, and it plays with their hair but seems to frame only Edgar in such a way a painting looks. His hair seems so alive, even in movement, not a strand seems out of place. Such striking features he had, each complementing the next and fitting in incredibly perfect harmony. Herman is reminded of his mother's repeated rule in his childhood of look, don't touch, and he's positive that Edgar would go under that caliber if he was displayed, not alive.

Edgar stepping forward has him like a terrified deer in headlights, and the chilled hand suddenly cupping his cheek only emphasizes burning skin.

In the next moment the world seems to disappear, the sight of Edgar on the points of his toes being his last memory before his brain short circuits, and there's nothing but lips pressing softly against his.

Edgar Redmond/Gregory Violet

Perhaps the reason Gregory's so attracted to the stillness in people is because it's such a happy contrast from the chaotic days of conflict he's forced to face as prefect. That's Edgar's theory for it, anyway.

For him as well, was a day so packed with fixing every wrong in the realm of possibilities that even Maurice was having trouble keeping up. Fourth of July preparations are such a bother, and he's even more thankful that he's finished with his work especially when he heard from Clayton and Edward that their prefects still have much to do. Fortunately, for his health and his sanity, Edgar got lucky with his workload, able to finish within fag time hours.

He relishes the silence, deserves it really, and he's lucky that his duties are mostly finished, save the minor things he knows can wait until later. Leaning on the arm of his couch, Edgar sighs lightly through his nose. Content was an understatement. His body feels like it's been whipped thrice in a spinning mixer.

He can already recognize the approaching feeling of sleep threatening to overtake. His eyelids already feel heavy, and his fuzzy mind plays tricks on his vision as he head nods. Although he's not one for silence, Edgar's body stills, his reality turning to a blissfully pleasant blur. Everything's taken care of. Everything will go exactly as planned.

Edgar's eyelashes flutter open at the shifted weight to his right, and he smiles at his newfound guest, lifting his arm up to make way.

Gregory moves slow even on all fours. His muscles practically turn to jelly when he reaches his friend, head hitting face first Edgar's lap a little harder then expected and relaxing almost immediately. He chuckles.

"Busy day today..?" he asks lightly, even though the answer sits right in front of him. He can't help smiling again at the defeated sluggish groan he gets as an answer.

Eventually, Gregory ends up turning to his back in favor of breathing and Edgar chooses to entertain himself by each subtle movement in Gregory's sleeping face. He didn't know it was possible to look so alive in rest. Didn't know if the prominent bow of his lips is the shape he manipulates it to be with products, or if that's simply how they are naturally. His lashes look impossibly long at this angle and the blonde takes his time tracing shape of them.

Edgar shakes his head at his wandering mind. A well rested mind would never betray him like this, detailing someone in such a way. His focus should be compared to a headless chicken to how it's acting in the innocent presence of another. He opts for some rest, get his mind off silly things to do them both good. It's not normal to watch people sleep in any world.

He's not sure how much times passed when opens his eye next and he's equally unsure on just how long Gregory's been staring at him in his rest. Edgar's now realizing how strange they must look to any outsider, being as still and stoic as a couple of national statues. He clears his throat nervously in an attempt to break the trance that settled over them, licking his dry lips.

"Just what are you looking at-" he's about to ask, words on the tip of his tongue before Gregory moves, tie tight in his fist as he crashes their lips together.

Edgar only has time to make a sound that's definitely unworthy of the level of status he must upkeep and far from the image he works hard on, before Gregory is sitting up and tugging his hood around his neck, attempting to hide the slight flush that resides there. His hair looks slightly matted.

Edgar watches in breathless shock, his mind still struggling to keep up. Gregory toys with his hood between his fingers, making it practically impossible for Edgar to see what expression lays on his face. The purple prefect turns slightly, meeting his eye, gaze shocking the blonde into shivers.

Your lips move when you sleep, he whispers, and stalks quietly out of the gazebo.

Herman Greenhill/Lawrence Bluewer

The crowd whisper under the atmosphere of tension, and students part like sea from shore, practically half baked with fear as Herman marches through the halls with aggressive urgency.

A scrunched expression that seems permanently etched on his face only instills more agitation from the crowd, each praying that they are not indeed the source of such irritation.

Herman ignores them all, as he always has, but as he does especially today. Today, his temper was on the brink of tearing his body apart under all his frustrations, and his patience is wearing dangerously thin.

There was only so many places the man he wanted could be, yet today acted like he used up all of his luck in previous endeavors. It could be no coincidence that every place he scoured, every place he was guaranteed to be found, could only be turned up with nothing at all!

Really, he huffs, pushing a frustrated hand through hair. The audacity having him run round the entire school like a dog! Had he no shame? Herman throws open the door to an almost empty classroom, stabbing an accusing finger in the air.

"You've been avoiding me-!" he half shouts before Lawrence's raised eyebrow reminds him where he is. He lowers his voice to the appropriate volume, trying again. "You've been avoiding me."

He can't see the eyeroll, but Herman can certainly feel it, as the blue prefect continues his work as normal, pen twirling on his pointer. "An exaggeration."

The casual dismissal makes his eye twitch, even though such a calm response would have him inwardly applauding at his impressive poise. Still, it wasn't very pleasant to be treated as a minor inconvenience. As if he hadn't spent the entire day chasing his shadow like some sort of no brained idiot, a love sick fool.

Herman clenches his fists, suddenly remembering the purpose of his efforts to begin with. He takes a breath in an attempt to gain his composure because at the end of the day, his objective could've driven him to run around ten schools if need be. He wanted to do this right.

"Bluewer," he declares. "I would like to kiss you."

He doesn't even give it time to sink in. "Do you?" Lawrence answers bluntly, and the off-putted tone has Herman turning a bright shade of crimson.

"Who spilled?" he demands. "Midford? Redmond?" Maybe he was playing the part of a fool. Rejection could only be right around the corner now.

And this makes Lawrence really roll his eyes, his stare boring into Herman over his glasses in a way that would make anyone squirm, already breaking into a cold sweat.

"You don't think I wouldn't have heard with you running around Weston like a mad man?" he points out with an almost disappointed frown, as if Herman being here was an act of disturbance in itself. "Wrecking such unnecessary havoc. That's unacceptable as a prefect."

This was not how Herman envisioned it to be at all. Maybe if he planned more, led him to a more intimate setting, Lawrence would've considered it. At least a little.

Having being chastised like he was a first year student is comparable to a public spectacle of humliation. His pride feels quite shot, and, embarrassingly enough, his eyes are beginning to burn more with each passing beat of silence. His eyes flick towards the door.

"Greenhill," Lawrence calls. Softly. Resigned. "Were you not here to do something..?"

Herman faces only the floor. "You don't even want to."

And he hears a sigh. "Well...if it stops you from scaring the other students-"

But I want you to want to, he thinks but doesn't say, and he looks up pathetically and swears he sees a slight curve at the corner of Lawrence's mouth. The smile of an apology.

Herman's mind continues to reel in disbelief. Please, he begs to the sky, the moon, and stars his loved one so resembles. Please.

"-but if you need me to say it aloud, I want to."

Lawrence doesn't even have time to take off his glasses before Herman is grabbing his face upwards, pressing his lips into his own.

Gregory Violet/Herman Greenhill

Although Herman had pretty much gave Gregory every excuse in the book to avoid being his model for the next hour (or two or three), it took about 3 seconds for him to crack under the purple prefect's languid stare. He wasn't even trying to hide his disappointment as Gregory led them away from the cricket field and into art room in Violet house, a private one made only for it's prefect and the guests he invites.

Gregory eyes Herman with silent amusement. Unfortunately for the blonde, his art room is just as dreary as the rest of purple house. It wasn't exactly hard to notice how his eyes darted around his surroundings nervously ever since they came within the house's graveyard like appearance.

With great effort, he tosses open the large curtains as Herman watches, the tension leaving his shoulders almost immediately as the room reveals itself to the light.

It's unsurprisingly messy, and it's probably under the instructions for Cheslock to keep it that way. Honestly, it was amazing Gregory could even find a pencil admist all the chaos. Herman raises an eyebrow as the man in question swipes his arm over the seats of a long couch, scattering used and unused papers and other odd looking kick knacks carelessly on the floor.

"Sit," he half whispers, raising an eyebrow at what seems to be Herman's mind processing the order. Herman swallows.

It only takes them a few minutes to get situated, and although Gregory grimaces at his adjusting eyes to the light, he's willing to give up his own personal preference if his sketch can deliver accurately. His model on the other hand, seems quite pleased with his circumstances. Gregory never noticed his room had a perfect view of the cricket field.

And it's only a matter of time, just 7 minutes in, before he has a piece he's happy with. It's easy to draw when the subject's features have practically been seared on the surface of your mind, the back of your hand. Drawing Herman is easy.

The artist subtly eyes him over his pad, and, with the least movements he can, flips the page to a blank one. The cricket master seems much too occupied observing a practice match through glass to see him in his peripheral vision, luckily.

And Gregory draws, mimics the slightest bit of movement Herman makes on each passing illustration until his wrist aches, his legs tingle with disuse, and his subject finally becomes aware of how much time has passed with the conclusion of the duel below with a stretch and a large yawn.

"...Who won?" Gregory mutters absentmindedly, curving his arm a little to get the perfect cut jaw the right amount of cut. Reconsidering his previous interpretation, a soft touch of bread turns Herman's expression throught the window into a gentler one.

The man shakes his head to rid himself of his slight daze, rubbing fuzziness out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, I must've..." he gives himself another shake before regaining the necessary conversational skills. "Midford's team-" he answers, tone is laced with something resembling pride. "He's taught himself well."

Gregory hums, watching as Herman's eyes settle on his pad. "Still not done?"

He doesn't grace that with an answer. Unbeknownst to him, he's about 9 drawings and counting done, but he doesn't think there's a point to mention that.

Herman gets up and moves to the couch his friend occupies to seat himself beside him. "May I see? I don't care if it's unfinished, but I do feel bad for all the time you spent on it." he grins sheepishly. "I know I'm not the best model."

There's a brief pause, Gregory chewing the inside of his cheek, before shoving the the book, face down, into calloused hands. The abruptness makes Herman waver, though curiosity triumphs before he can question.

"....Violet?" Herman whispers breathlessly over one of many sketches he's completed, caressing the paper not occupied by charcoal as tenderly as the head of a newborn. "How did you-...you made it so-"

His heart jumps to his throat as Herman's eyes zero on him instead, and there's something there that Gregory scarily can't place. He instinctively feels the need on locking himself in his dorm until Cheslock drags him out, especially when the man with enough strength to crush him to pulp steadily moves towards him.

And suddenly, there's a brush of lips on his, ending as quickly as a butterfly taking flight, a flower that dies every sunrise.

Their foreheads remain close, and Gregory can't keep in the breath he's been holding.

"Thank you," Herman murmurs quietly against his lips. "I didn't think you saw me in a way I could never see myself in before."

Gregory Violet/Lawrence Bluewer

They talk with their silence, their conversations are full of it.

Whoever told Lawrence the secret to the soul is through their eyes is one misinformed individual and clearly never met Gregory's: every subtle movement of his eyebrows was like a ripped page, one that contained inklings of skepticism. Curiosity. Contentment. In Lawrence's eyes, the slight tightening knit might as well be a face of unbridled disgust (recently only used when Cheslock decided mixing what looked like chunks of avocado into an oddly textured pastry was a good idea. Gregory refused to take a single bite).

For all his recieved praises in intelect, for Lawrence it required much more insight, as well as fast paced thinking and reading between the lines to get a clear view on the man's intentions. A code only he could decipher.

While most eyed his mind and listened closely to his words, Gregory always sought the movement of the other's hands.

It was such an easy element to gloss over, so meaningless it was laughable. But for Gregory, he only saw the constant life in their gestures, one that betrayed his private thoughts behind a face of such constant stoicism.

Some were self explanatory. Quick taps on the table when someone was taking too long were signs he purposefully put out for everyone's eyes. Gregory preferred the ones he couldn't help but let slip: when his fingers would twitch in the direction of a pastry he wanted. When his thumb runs across its knuckle when something strikes a nerve, when he needs a few extra seconds to think. Things that would never be put into words and Gregory happens to catch anyway.

Their worlds are private, quiet. Yet with the constant glances they catch each other with, it's not long before they recognize that another is curious about their sanctuary, cautiously knocking on its gates.

Their observations led to an unexpected sensation of familiarity. They needn't feel the need to entertain the other with such meaningless conversation when every gesture is already so easily understood. It was almost unnerving.

Relying on their silent speech laced in code came with the inevitable assumption that their bond was distant that to everyone else's. If only they knew of the numerous times they've peeked at each other under the gazebo's petty squabbles, and rolled their eyes in mixed mild entertainment and exasperation.

The library is almost empty at this time of day with most students finishing up their dinners, and Lawrence is one of few to take advantage of that. A thick volume sits in his palms, and perhaps he's a little too distant of his surroundings when he fails to notice when exactly Gregory's hunched frame sat across from him, hands still against his pad.

His fixed look makes the artist slightly lift his chin to meet it, sending a crooked smile in greeting. Lawrence returns the gesture in a less awkward manner.

But even as Lawrence faces words again, Gregory's stare remains and it's, admittedly, a tad distracting to be observed like he was a circus lion in its cage. Gregory had always been an observer, catching the dazzle of typical days and somehow making it even more beautiful, but it's never been towards him. A push of his glasses and a half cocked head is more then enough to ask if Gregory's feeling alright.

Suddenly, there's a change, a furrow that's new, and Lawrence is caught off guard, especially when Gregory purposefully let's it remain, remain so Lawrence can take his time unraveling the solution. The twitch of his right hand is out of concern.

The inside of Gregory's mind feels more and more like a typhoon the more he tries to decipher. The blend of hope and fear was about all he could manage under the weight of the continuing gaze, before a slight error cuts open the flesh leading to the artist's trembling heart, passing so fast that it could've been missed had Lawrence blinked.

Oh, he thinks in painful realization at the sight of Gregory's eyes darting to his lips. He wants to kiss you.

And suddenly his fingers can barely keep grip of his book frozen in his chair, even as Gregory stands and his strides remain slow, bending to meet his eye. He pauses, looking for any sign of rejection in the face in his hands, and seeing only a dazed racing mind.

When the kiss does come, it's firm but tentative, and Lawrence's mind wakes up enough to feel his hands grip the sides of his chair as the forgotten novel drops to the floor. The warmth leaves him breathless, and through it the plea for acceptance slips within its pressure.

He can register the pained sound of reluctance Gregory makes as he pulls away, foreheads and noses pressed together, panting burning each other's skins as Gregory searches his companion's eyes: Did you hate it?

There were no words that wouldn't betray him, Lawrence knows, instead reaching to grasp Gregory's wrist, forcing himself to meet that anguished look before shaking his head like a man with no sense at all.

There were no words that could ever describe the relief flooding the crumples of Gregory's features, and the soft, almost childish cry of delight he makes as he presses their lips together again.

#edgar redmond #lawrence bluewer #herman greenhill #gregory violet #kuroshitsuji #black butler #black butler season 4 #weston college arc #black butler weston arc #cheslock #edward midford #Will be posted to ao3 #This had no business taking a week to right why are there so many of them #clayton #maurice cole #Can be read as poly

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papabirdurskeks · 1 year ago

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This is super late, as only now I am really going through my ask box and finding so many little things here and there.

But to everyone who left me messages in my inbox even from long ago:

My biggest and sincerest apologies for never answering sooner, but also my biggest thanks and gratitude for everyone’s well wishes and thoughts! Despite how things have been and how my mind tends to be at times, thank you for not giving up on me and well, staying by my side!

I’m also very glad and happy to see people like what I do, even if its as random as can be. It makes me happy knowing that I can make someone laugh or smile or just even chuckle a bit. So thank you. Thank you everyone for being there and staying at my side all this time!

#The chatter box #my love to everyone #i love you all! ❤️

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keicordelle · 1 year ago

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Chapter 9 of A First for Everything, Perchance to Dream, is up! Thancred is still feeling a bit out of sorts after that near-kiss, and Urianger convinces him he should rest early -- in Urianger's bed. With Urianger. A plan that surely has absolutely no flaws and will definitely not make Thancred's palpating heart speed even faster.

Read it on Ao3 at the link above, or check out the first chapter on Tumblr here.

Thancred dragged himself away from Urianger, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Maybe some sleep really will help," he muttered to himself, drawing up beside the sofa he'd taken as his bed. Maybe if I go back to sleep, he'll try again.

He threw back the blanket with perhaps more force than was necessary, trying to banish the unhelpful thought. Just lay down, close your eyes, and turn off your brain. And when you wake up, maybe you can convince yourself this was all a dream. Not bloody likely.

A hand caught around his wrist before he could drop down onto the dingy cushions. The scent of Urianger filled his nose -- hells, it always filled his nose these days, permeating the air in his little house until it had become the new norm. But this close, Thancred could feel the heat from Urianger’s body at his back, his grip surprisingly firm on his arm.

Thancred’s body wanted to turn into him and melt into that warmth, maybe even pull Urianger tight against him and do something he couldn't take back, like kiss him senseless. Instead, he tensed beneath his grip, forcing himself still so he wouldn't do something he'd regret.

Urianger drew back instantly, his hand falling away to his side. Thancred’s eyes followed it, watching as it clutched at his skirt, before he dragged them back up to Urianger’s face, kicking himself internally. Was that hurt he spied in the depths of Urianger’s eyes, or just worry? Was he going to drive himself insane overanalyzing Urianger’s every move? Only one of these questions did Thancred have an answer to.

"Pray forgive mine impertinence," Urianger hastened to say. "But thy bedding is hardly fit for a man in good health, let alone one who suffers a malaise. 'Twould be unthinkable that I permit you remain here when there exists a perfectly comfortable alternative not ten paces away."

Thancred frowned at him. "Urianger, we've already had this argument. I'm not going to let you give up your bed for me. I'm already asking too much by asking you to let us stay here." Urianger opened his mouth to protest, but Thancred waved off his concern. "Believe me, I've slept in far worse places than this in far worse condition."

If Thancred had expected him to drop the issue, he was in for a surprise. Urianger’s lips thinned into a flat line as he considered his rebuttal. But they’d already settled this weeks ago, when Urianger had apologized for being "ill equipped to receive guests." Nothing had changed between then and now; if he hadn't had an argument to convince Thancred then, he wouldn't be able to now. He ought to know that.

He tried anyway. "If thy concern rest in my wellbeing, perchance there is a suitable compromise. My bed is surely of a size that we might both lay comfortably upon it."

Thancred choked. Okay, maybe he could come up with a new argument. Thal's balls. "Urianger, I'm not going to share your bed!"

"Whyever not? Full well do I know that thou art accustomed to sleeping alongside others. 'Tis hardly different from the close quarters a scouting party must share. Mine only regret is that the thought did not occur to me sooner." He hesitated, fingers fiddling with the chains on his skirt. "But if the notion discomfits thee so, then thou hast mine sincerest apologies. We needs not speak of it again."

"No, it's not that at all," Thacred rushed to say before Urianger could turn away. "You know that I'm perfectly comfortable with you. It's just... It's different."

"Why?"

Because you're my friend. Because you're Urianger. Because I want nothing more than to wrap you up in my arms and hold you close, and I can't for the life of me figure out if you want the same or if I'm just imagining things. Because I think I care for you in a way that I'm not sure I've ever cared for anyone else. Seven hells, he was overthinking this, wasn't he? Yesterday he wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing a bed with Urianger. Why should that have changed just because Thancred wanted to kiss him a little bit? He was an adult. He was perfectly capable of controlling himself and sharing a bed with his friend without it being weird.

What would be weird was if he continued to refuse Urianger’s offer. Because he was right, unless Thancred wanted to admit to his newfound urges to do things other than sleep chastely next to him in that bed, there was no good reason for him to deny him.

"You win," Thancred said, holding up his hands in surrender. "You're right. If we can both fit in the bed, there's no reason we can’t share it. For now, at least. Though you may find I'm not as pleasant a bed companion at you think. I've been told I thrash something fierce."

Urianger chuckled, his eyes creasing at the corners. They were bright as he smiled at him, a soft golden warmth in them that Thancred could feel over his skin. "A fact I have long since discovered for myself. Thy limbs have a notable tendency to upset any and all books within arm's reach of thy resting place."

Thancred ducked my head with a chagrined snort. "Ah, sorry about that."

Urianger waved off the concern, turning to lead the way into his chambers and the bed that awaited them there. The singular bed. With one blanket. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Thancred squashed the thought, trailing closely after him. Watching the slip of ankle that showed beneath the swish of his skirt as he walked, eyes carefully lowered lest his hindbrain get any silly ideas about how that robe clung to Urianger’s backside.

He did have to admit that the bed looked significantly more comfortable than the dingy sofa he'd been sleeping on, with its lumpy cushions and springs desperate to make the acquaintance of his kidneys. A good night's sleep would be a welcome turn of events -- assuming, of course, he could turn off the ceaseless scamper of his thoughts long enough to actually enjoy it.

The chains around Urianger's waist chimed as he unhooked them, setting them carefully aside atop the nearby chest of drawers. Thancred froze, hesitating at the foot of the bed. Hells. Was he going to strip down before climbing into bed? Was Thancred supposed to strip down before getting in? He couldn't just sleep in his clothes, could he? Well, he supposed he could, but that would be even odder than just stripping down to his underwear, wouldn't it?

Twelve preserve him, what did Urianger even wear to bed? Surely Thancred had seen him around the Rising Stones before bed before. Why couldn't he remember for the life of him what he'd been wearing? Did he have a nightgown? Sleep pants? His smalls? Sweet heavens have mercy, Thancred couldn't picture that. Didn’t want to picture that, not while he was staring at the delicious curve of Urianger’s back, elegant and exposed to his hungry eyes. Or the pale arch of his neck revealed as he pulled away his collar, long and slender and graceful.

The collar tinkled lightly as he set it aside with the rest of his chains. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Thancred, pink dusting his cheeks. "I know 'tis foolish, but I prithee, avert thy gaze."

"What? Oh! Of course! Sorry, I didn't mean to--" Thancred shut his damned mouth, spinning on his heels. Okay. Alright then. Stripping. Thancred could strip. This was fine. He'd stripped in front of Urianger before. This was no different than when Urianger tended to his wounds. Expect with a much higher likelihood that Thancred would find his bare flesh pressed up against Urianger’s.

He gave his head a sharp shake, cramming his misgivings into a little box in the back of his mind. In one quick motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor. It was easier, then, to talk himself out of my boots, like he'd broken some sort of seal. Besides, who wanted boots in their bed? His hands hesitated over his belt. No. No, tonight the pants would stay on. Surely Urianger wouldn't fault him for that.

"Ah, my thanks for thy discretion," came Urianger's voice at his back.

"No problem." Was Thancred imagining the flush that still graced Urianger’s cheeks when he turned? Or was it possible that he was drinking Thancred in like Thancred was drinking in him?

Not that there was a great deal to drink. If anything, the nightgown Urianger wore covered more skin than his usual robe. But there was nothing wrong with that -- a little mystery could be just as enticing as something revealing. It reminded Thancred of the robe he used to wear, long and unflattering, but somehow Urianger still managed to look stunning in it. How had Thancred never noticed how beautiful he was before? He shifted uncomfortably, praying that Urianger wouldn't notice his more-than-casual interest.

It seemed that whatever gods existed on the First had heard his prayer, because Urianger didn't so much as glance down before he turned away to throw back the blanket. It was almost a relief to crawl into the bed, where at least Thancred could hide beneath the blanket and pretend that he wasn't so uncomfortably aroused by his friend. Of course, then Urianger climbed in right after him and fairly well shattered that illusion. Thancred could feel the heat of his body on his skin despite the distance that separated them, the sound of Urianger’s breathing a pleasant rhythm in his ears. The urge to pull him close and snuggle into his side struck Thancred like a punch to the gut, and he forced it down, holding himself carefully still in the sheets. He didn't dare roll onto his side -- the bed, while a significant improvement on the kidney-seeking sofa, had a notable slope to the mattress, like fate itself seemed determined to force them together, and he didn't trust himself not to roll into Urianger in his sleep. Or roll onto him and crush him. Urianger was bigger than Thancred was, but that didn't mean he wanted to be buried under the weight of his body in his sleep.

"Rest well, Thancred," Urianger murmured, his voice a soft caress in Thancred’s ear. The bed creaked as he snuggled into the blanket, perfectly at ease next to him.

"Sweet dreams," Thancred whispered back.

Urianger’s breathing evened out into a rhythmic lull, faster than Thancred could ever have expected for one who spent so many nights pacing restlessly beneath the stars. Thancred glanced over to him, watching the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. He looked so sweet like that, curled up on his side with his hair falling over his face, blankets tucked up under his chin. Thancred watched him like that for longer than he would ever admit, with only the steady beat of his heart in his chest and the rhythm of Urianger’s breathing to track the time.

Then Urianger shifted, the bed creaking as he moved into Thancred. His arm fell over Thancred’s waist, pulling him in against him. Urianger’s body curved around his, one leg tangling with Thancred’s and his breath tickling at his neck. Thancred froze, waiting for Urianger to stir and draw back, but he only settled more comfortably against him, sighing contentedly in his sleep as he nestled into him.

Slowly, moving carefully so as not to wake him, Thancred wrapped his arm around him, drawing him in until his head rested on his chest. Urianger snuggled in closer still, his skin a pleasant warmth on Thancred’s. His hair was soft and silken, the feathered ends of it teasing at Thancred’s chest, and though it felt a little too much like tempting fate, Thancred dared to brush his fingers through it. It slipped around them like water, and he did it again, marvelling at the way the grey locks shone silver this close. There were highlights in them he'd never noticed before, strands of blond and ashen white tangled with muted browns to give it a warmth that fairly glowed against his palm. Urianger sighed again, leaning into his touch, and Thancred couldn't help the smile that curved his lips as he looked down upon him. Urianger’s lashes fluttered gently, their silvered sweep casting subtle shadows across his cheeks. His lips parted lightly around his breath, and gods did they look soft too. A little bit thin, but no less inviting for it. Thancred could imagine how they'd feel moving on his own. Parting beneath him to let him in, the wet brush of Urianger’s tongue against his and the taste of him filling his senses.

Thancred hesitated, staring down at his lips. Maybe he could understand why Urianger had tried to kiss him while he was asleep. He could finish what Urianger had started right now. Draw his mouth up to his and brush their lips together -- gentle at first, exploratory, and then with intent, kissing him until he would never forget the feeling. Or maybe just a quick brush, just to know what it would feel like. He wouldn't ever have to know.

No. What was he thinking? He didn’t want their first kiss to happen like that, stolen while Urianger slept, without him even aware it had happened. Their first kiss (and when exactly had it become a given in Thancred’s mind that they would even have a first kiss?) should be sweet and tender. Hells, for all he knew this could be Urianger’s first kiss ever. He wasn't about to steal that from him against his wishes, no matter what he wanted to read into his actions. When they kissed -- and they would, one way or another, of that much Thancred was certain -- it would be beautiful and magical and everything Thancred wanted Urianger’s first kiss to be -- regardless of if Thancred really was that first kiss or not.

Instead, he brushed Urianger’s hair carefully back from his face, pressing his lips to his brow. This much, at least, Thancred could allow himself. The rest, he was perfectly happy to wait for.

Thancred fell asleep curled up in Urianger’s embrace, his arms as tight around Urianger as Urianger’s were around him. And when he slept, his dreams were more peaceful than they had been in years.

[Chapter 10] | [Masterlist]

[Kofi/Commissions]

#ffxiv #thanuri #urithan #thancred #urianger #thancred waters #urianger augurelt #ffxiv fanfiction #my writing #first for everything #~k

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aquateenpatrolsomethingshowshow · 7 months ago

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Have you watched Space Ghost Coast To Coast, the show ATHF is spurn from? I recommend it, if you haven't seen yet you are missing out on Zorak, Brak and Moltar

oh my gosh!! im SOOOOO sorry for not answering sooner /gen

i rarely use this blog anymore 😭😭😭

my sincerest apologies 🙏🏻🙏🏻

i actually havent seen a full episode of space ghost (well i have seen baffler meal tho) but only really clips but i think its absolutely hilarious!

ive also seen a couple of eps of cartoon planet too, as well as the brak show, and think both are pretty funny too! love them all and think they are all super funny, especially brak!

tysm for the ask and again, super sorry abt the late reply 💕🙏🏻

#sgc2c #space ghost coast to coast #brak #zorak #space ghost #athf #aqua teen #aqua teen hunger force #master shake #meatwad #frylock #baffler meal #anon #asks

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roaldseth · 1 year ago

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For the Trianfgle Strategy question: 17, 19, 22?

Sincerest, deepest apologies that this answer didn't arrive sooner. A lot was going on, and a lot consistently kept going on, and you know how it is, and of course making the House Wolffort live stream was of upmost seriousness and importance. The last was jokingly, but the others not so much. Anyway—

17. What ending did you go for first?

Liberty. As I had said in this set of answers, anything for Benny Boy. The story goes is that my fate was already preset before release, because, to much dismay, Benedict Pascal stands as the sole reason for why I even gave glances at Triangle Strategy. I'm not known to be an TRPG/SRPG player, gameplay was not the pull, concept did seem fun though, but on GOD I had to find out what was UP with that man. In the end, when actually presented with the options full context, I still selected Benny, half from favoritism (and not wanting to loose him first go), half from process of elimination of not wanting to do the other options at the time.

Though I am a strong Liberty End enjoyer, I was not impressed at all first impressions on how it was presented as an idea. Quite frankly, I didn't really like Benedict's argument, or at least not how he presented/worded it. Ultimately, I think I reacted that way because it wasn't presented in a way that was appealing to a person like Serenoa. But, it turned up being a "the worst man you know makes an excellent point" but the excellent point is not his point at all, and it's assessing the likely to happen/known collateral of the other options. I don't regret doing it first play through, and know I'm very much an outlier in NA-EU group with this option.

19. Most heartbreaking moment?

Finishing—UH. When I say this, I speak from a place who always inevitably has to abruptly stop when the end of the game is coming up for days/weeks as if that'll prevent it from ending because I don't want to have to deal with a conclusion when it can just, you know, live on ambiguously suspended. Endings are markers, and though I know I can—and do—live my days happily attached to Triangle Strategy as a piece of media, I can never get that first time feel ever again. It cannot be recreated. It was a specific moment in time, and it's bittersweet. So, I just don't like finishing games in general, especially if it's in a place of much love and facination, for this reason, but it's something that is important to do.

But, I know that's also not what the question is asking, so perhaps consider: Utility End does a good job of making you feel like shit, sure (moral heartbreak)? Every ending (except Golden) ruining a perfectly good marriage before they could even get married (matchmaker heartbreak)? Realizing that the stick up Benedict's ass was put there by himself (being forced to witness idiocy heartbreak)? IDK, options are there.

Actually, no, you know what? Parting with Benedict for Morality fucking sucked. Hated that shit. Like, yeah I'm a known Benedict enjoyer, which is not helping my case, but from the stance of his history and job, his parting is painful because you—the lordship—is choosing to forego the House, its settlement, its people, its ancestry, and such is a name he had served devoutly since before it was a High House (30+ years).

This doubles with Frederica leaving for Utility end, because abso-fucking-lutely. You—her betrothed—are choosing to side with the oppressor of her people because the current king doesn't have much of a spine because he's the second son and wasn't expected or taught to deal with stuff like this, and then you thought it was a good idea...

Okay, actually, halt the post (sorry Roland, you don't get a section). The easier way to say what I want to say is that your partings with any of them are so painful. Like, I get it that they're supposed to be heartbreaking because "oh disagreement, oh bestie is leaving" but it's heartbreaking because they all have good reason to fuck off (it's just Benedict and Frederica have more push with other things not canon-specific events). The emotion they all put behind it fucking rocks. Love it, but I emotionally hate it.

22. Favorite moment?

Honestly, no idea, but I will say that the Chapter 17 voting period as a whole, no matter which way it's split, and because it's split, is... something for sure, important for sure... that I can really put a name to. It will certainly likely be a benchmark if future installments are made. In functionality, gameplay and writing, it's got to be something that works in unison with each other. I don't know. It's a very important part of the game for various other reasons that isn't narrative, but still greatly includes the narrative absolutely, and it's also just oh neat let me see everyone react, excellent.

(One comment I have heard in passings is that a let down of the game was that the 4 [reps] to 8 [war council] didn't disagree enough during votes, and on one hand, yeah they probably should have butted heads more at some capacity. But, for where Triangle Strategy is right now, I can understand why they didn't, whether or not it was the right or wrong call. I personally didn't hold it against them, or mind, or think it too out of the ordinary, so it's just a personal taste and maybe "you might be looking for a different game" really.)

#Triangle Strategy ask game #Triangle Strategy

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the-trinket-witch · 2 years ago

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Practically Perfect Ch. 9

(Ch 10|Ch 8|Ch 1)

"Oh! Good morning, Jack. I'm just getting breakfast started if you'd like to join us! With the tournament today I thought it'd make something light but filling.”

Albert barely had a chance to get a pan out before hearing a knock at the door. Answering it revealed a sweating Jack.

"I can't, sorry. I'm actually in the middle of my morning run; I figured I'd stop by to make sure none of you overslept. I'll go grab the other two for ya," Jack huffed before jogging upstairs.

He could only laugh a little as he heard immediate bickering from Grim. The two came down, bleary-eyed and stretching. Jack warned the two to not fall back asleep before trotting back out. Today was the day. Tournament day. But first thing was first: fuel for the day. If not for the tournament itself, then for the quickly dwindling opportunity to figure out how to expose Leona and Ruggie.

_________________________________________________

Yuu and Grim took in the sights and smells of the stalls at Albert’s request. There were a couple of things he had to finalize and he needed to find the head coordinator, Azul. He found it a little difficult to find the other dorm leader, but was able to zero in on a cocked fedora.

"There you are. My sincerest apologies for not finding you sooner. Oh…"Al called from the crowd. His voice wavered at the sight of a familiar pair of smiling maws. "Hello 'Jade and Floyd', was it?"

"Ahh~ It's the small-fry from the other day. Come back to finish that round of tag?" Floyd asked.

"No, no no; I just have some Dorm Leader business to discuss with Azul, here. Can't have you both winded before the competition even starts, either, can we?"

"Hehe, not if we catch ya, first~"

"You two can have fun after the tournament. Albert," Azul interrupted, "thank you again for having things finalized so quickly. What was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Well, I assume you would know more, but why is the layout completely different from what I had submitted for the vendors? Or, at least, why wasn't I informed there would be a change so late? It looks like a fire hazard, quite honestly."

"Hmm well we've had some change in plans, and while I'm sure you're competent at everything you've done up until this point, as coordinating head I would be the final say. Sorry for the trouble. Please take the time to visit the stalls."

"Can I at least have your word that I be included into these decisions if they've been assigned to me, in the future?"

"I don't guarantee anything unless it's in writing, but again, you're welcome to my office anytime for all manners of business."

"I'll have to pass for now…" Al sighed. "If that's all I'm getting for now then I'll just have to see you all around."

With no extra answers, Albert took his leave to meet back up with the group. He'd caught Yuu and Grim talking with Ace and Deuce, the Heartslabyul pair looking a bit solemn.

"What’s wrong? Were you not able to make the team?"

"No, we didn't…I swear we're getting in next year!" Ace answered. "C'mon, Grim, we can eat later!"

The group convened with Riddle and the rest of the Heartslabyul team. Everyone took to the stands in wait. Their attention was grabbed, the moment they sat, by rumbling and screams. They leapt to attention to see the crowd stampeding towards the field where the teammates for Diasomnia stood. No one couldn't get to a position to help by the time the crowd had blazed through the team. From behind them they could hear the cackle of two figures.

"Nice work, Ruggie. Farewell, Malleus. This year I'll be King," Leona rumbled. Behind him cheers from the Savanaclaw team rang out.

"So it's true. We heard all of it," Riddle announced. "These actions sully the tradition of this sport; I can't turn a blind eye to that."

"Psh of course not. Seems the Heartslabyul is all here too. Even adopted a lost little traitor, too," Leona growled.

"I looked up to you-now I can’t even think to be on your side…” Jack rumbled.

“Oh cut the ‘Hero’ crap, already.”

“Seriously? Trying to come into our territory, and think you’re gonna survive with this small of a pack? You’re all outta your minds!” Ruggie mocked.

“How about we have some fun-have a little pregaming?”

Leona took a flying leap towards Jack, immediately setting him back on his heels. The Lion and Wolf scrapped with punches, kicks and swipes. The rest of Leona’s pack sprang in to fight everyone else. Of course, they were made quick work of, offering Riddle or the others not much of a challenge.

“Doesn’t even matter if you beat us, you couldn’t help Diasomnia’s team anyway!” Ruggie called.

“Oh, you rang?”

“Too late for what?”

“You’d be mistaken if you thought any of us were injured.”

Everyone’s heads turned to find the Diasomnia team-fully well and having not been trampled. The looks exchanged between Leona and Ruggie told the crew everything they needed.

“Thought we’d put on a little show, after a ‘Riddle’ birdie told us your plans~” Lilia smirked. “Though, Cater, I would have been glad to lend my uniform to you if I’d have had more warning.”

“I…think it’d be a tight fit, but thanks for the offer,” Cater said. “But yeah, no sense letting these guys get hurt, when I have duplicates to be stand-ins.”

“Wait-WHAT? Then…Malleus is…” Ruggie asked.

“Perfectly fine,” Sebek barked.

The only sound, outside of the deafening silence, seemed to be the sound of Leona’s plans crumbling beneath him. Every muscle in him seemed to tense, but there was no lashing out. Just a sudden slackening; the wind having entirely fled from his sails.

“-sigh- Whatever. It’s over,” Leona muttered.

“You can’t be serious; after all that you’re just gonna quit?” Ruggie balked.

“Leona…I looked up to you. The second you don’t have the upper hand you fold? What kinda leader are you?” Jack growled.

“So what if I drop out? It’s not gonna change the fact that ‘cause if that Lizard is in top form, then we’re basically dead in the water. What’s. The. Point?”

“The point?” Jack marched up and snatched Leona by the shirt, “The point is that you’re supposed to give it your all, even against the odds. How can you say you lost when you haven’t even tried?”

“Lemme give you a dose of reality-You’re just a whipped puppy, he’s just a mangy hyena,” he pointed out to Ruggie, “ And I’m the loathsome Second Son, who’s never going to be king.”

At his words the earth began to rumble. A whirlwind of sand swept in, surrounding the field. Between the sounds of the dusty wind howling, Leona’s growls blended with the rumbling of the earth. He grabbed at Jack’s arm, causing it to release. His grip began to dry out Jack’s skin, cracks crept up from his wrist like baked clay. Everyone could only watch, either trying to catch their breath being choked out with dust or their eyes being bombarded with sand.

“Ya like it? This is my unique magic: King’s Roar. Ironic, isn’t it? The idea of a prince of such a place that abhors dryness, to be cursed like this. Another of life’s cruel little jokes,” Leona mocked.

“Off with Your Head!” Riddle cried.

He smirked with a flex at Riddle's attempt to take off his head, shrugging the collar off with ease. His defensive magic seemed to shock everyone. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering his tenure.

“Too many times in this world Life decides to just kick you down, no matter the time or effort you put into something. Just like you, Jack. Can’t breathe? Can’t get outta this?”

Outcries for Leona to stop fell on deaf ears. As they tried to get him to stop between trying to find space to breathe, Jack bellowed the name of his own magic. At his word he transformed into a large white wolf. The transformation was enough to startle Leona into dropping the now cracked and dried paw of the wolf. In his shock, Riddle took once more to shackle his head. Once shackled, the maelstrom of sand came to a halt. Everyone who could, took the chance to catch their breath or begin assisting the injured out of the line of fire. Jack resumed his typical form, scowl deeper than ever etched on his face.

“I looked up to you. What happened to the Leona that’d inspired so many, like me?” Jack pleaded.

“That’s what annoys me about the lot of ya-imposing some kinda narrative or belief on me. And don’t start preachin’ like my brother about crap you don’t know!” Leona spat.

“How you talk shows to me the crown would be too heavy a weight on your head, anyway. Lamenting about your lot in life, but when things don’t go your way you turn petty and find fault in everything but yourself. To think you considered yourself a challenge to Malleus makes me laugh. Keep that grudge in your heart and you will never be king,” Lilia retorted. Albert had never seen much of the Diasomnia students, but the brief interactions like this showed him to not underestimate them, Lilia especially. Leona erupted into a resigned laugh at the lecture.

“You’re right-I’ll never be king. No matter how hard I try. No matter the work I put in…”

His laughter began to melt into a more cavernous rumble. Lilia noted the increase in, not magic, but dark negative emotional energy. Leona’s cackling erupted into a bellowing roar as he became engulfed in a swirl of darkness. What emerged looked like Leona, but infinitely more rough and feral. He roared again in preparation for an attack alongside the dark, lionesque Blot Incarnation behind him. Riddle directed folks to tend to the injured or flee. Albert requested Yuu to leave, but was met with a determined willingness to help.

“I don’t know what’s going on-but we gotta get him back to his senses!” Jack rallied.

“If I can’t rule the world-I will turn it all to sand,” Leona growled.

Everyone flung in to take a swipe at him. Albert grabbed a few at a time into his stopped time to provide an opportunity to send out their waves of magic. Other times he helped clear the air with gusts of his own. The Blot Beast pounced onto Jack, but with its attention on him the rest could volley a flurry of attacks on it. Leona sent out waves of sand and soil to try engulfing any in his way, only growing more frustrated when not every attack had landed. In an act of desperation, he thrust up a large boulder out from below him.

“I am the king!” He roared, thrusting the floating rock down into the group. Yuu turned to run, but in their shift they caught on their own feet. Albert sped out to snatch Yuu out of the line of fire; his shoe scraped along the boulder and gave indication of just how close they’d both come to being crushed.

The stitching holding the phantom’s joints together was beginning to come undone, as did the inkwell head slosh out almost all of its contents. Every slam of wind, water and fire magic served to only weaken the beast and the connection it had with Leona. With it unsteady and Leona seeming to be slowing down, the team released a barrage of magic at it-destroying the lionesque monstrosity. The dark tether it held over its host grew slack, sending Leona to the dirt. Everyone gathered around him, setting him in a recovery position, and calling over Headmaster Crowley for assistance. Before long, his eyes opened, squinting at the sunlight. Everyone sighed out in relief.

“Good-you’re awake. Now You can confess to causing all them accidents!” Grim spat.

“Wa-What happened?”

“You went into an overblot rampage, Mr. Kingscholar. You don’t remember?” Crowley asked.

“You’re kidding…”

“No, now hurry up and confess so we can play! The tournament’s about to start!” Grim rushed.

“You honestly only came badgering me…Just so you could play,” Leona asked.

“Well you got all those other guys hurt ‘Just so you could play’, too,” Grim retorted.

“Heh, yeah I guess you could say that…”

“I’ll have to take that as an admittance to all those incidents. Immediate punishment will be that Savanaclaw’s team is disqualified from this year’s games. Understood?” Crowley commanded.

“Crystal,” Leona’s eyes rolled at the question. He returned to deflating on the ground in defeat.

“Actually-Y'know what? Let them play. I think this’d be the best way to settle the score,” Trey said, leading a pack of all of the affected players. The look on everyone’s faces seemed eager for vengeance.

“Wait! What about our team!” Grim yowled. “We still need our match since we proved those accidents were on purpose!”

“Indeed-but we already have the lineup announced…How does an Exhibition Match sound?” Crowley suggested.

“I think that’d be fine-Though It would be just us three,” Albert started.

“Hey now, don’t count us out!” Ace called, leaned up against Deuce.

“Hmm, More the merrier. If there weren’t anyone else we have some ghosts I believe might be interested in playing as well.”

“How about we take you on then?” Jack offered.

“Pff, Beat black and blue and you still got another round in ya. I can take some wounded herbivores in my sleep. You all best be prepared; I’m not out of the game yet!” Leona announced.

________________________________________________

“Ah there they are! Good to see you awake, finally,” Al said at Yuu’s arrival back into the waking world.

>Wait-what happened?

>Did we win?

“Eh, not really. Grim seemed to think it a good idea to make a long shot-”

“-And beaned you upside the head. Didn’t think you’d wake up for a bit there,” Ace finished.

“Since you’ve been out we’ll let you know who won-” Al tried starting.

“Diasomnia. This year’s been such a shitshow. Just means I’ll have to do better next year,” Leona interrupted.

The group tended to their injured friends, having a couple of laughs once Leona’s nephew wandered in. They watched Leona grumble and moan about said nephew as he climbed and pawed at his uncle. The group could only laugh before eventually being released for the night to further recover.

Yuu took to their own business once the trio returned to their dorm, allowing Albert to research a few things online to fill an email he intended to send.

“Mr. Kingscholar,

I commend your efforts today in the tournament. It’s difficult to convey via email, but rest assured this isn’t an email out of pity or sarcasm. I did mean to ask if you’ve found yourself feeling better, if only a little, after training in any capacity? If so, would you think it might help combat the instances you may be feeling more low than usual? It has been found the chemicals released during exercise alleviate some symptoms of depression. As well, it seems, spite makes for an interesting tactic against the negative thoughts one might encounter on a potential ‘downswing’. You’re more than fine to completely disregard this email. I only bring this to your attention as someone who has seen the effects depression can have on a man-and I have seen firsthand how you are strong enough to overcome it. Whether you believe it yourself is yours to decide.

Pentergeist Dorm Leader

A. Eastwind”

“Seven, that guy just doesn’t know when to shut up,” Leona murmured as he read. “At least there’s something to why the day feels easier to get through, after a run…”

#practically perfect fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst fanfic #twst writing #my writing

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mirioho · 5 months ago

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what made you interested in pursuing art more seriously or more intentionally? hope you are having a good day. i love your art and tumblr page design! you're very talented :)

Hellooooo anon, first of all, thank you very much for sending this in. And second, I am very sorry I did not answer this sooner. I think you sent this a year or so ago so you have my sincerest apologies 🙃 idek if you're still following me but

(long winded answer below)

(Skip ahead to paragraph below heart emojis if you don't wanna read my art journey and rant and just get to the actual answer to the question)

I did not intentionally maliciously ignore your ask. Rather, I kept it around because, ironically enough around the time you sent this ask is when I just...stopped doing art for a long while. I was, for a lack of a better word, very depressed, and I was incredibly unmotivated and I hated everything I drew and I disliked even the act of drawing itself.

Whether it was traditional or digital, a study, a sketch, a proper art piece, experimentation, I didn't like any of it anymore. Which was disheartening because art had always been one of my only creative and sometimes emotional outlets. It was a passion. It was My Thing, so to speak, I guess.

I wasn't doing great mentally but it didn't help that I had been comparing myself to various artists online. It felt like no matter what I did I just wasn't happy with what I was doing. And it felt like even if I tried I wouldn't be able to reach the heights others seem to a lot more easily (especially if I saw that they were younger or had less time doing art than I did). I couldn't help but think everything that I did was wrong.

Or worse, not enough.

Good, but not good enough.

Great, but not enough.

Amazing, but not enough.

That's not to say people did not like my art. They did. But I didn't like it.

I didn't pick up my personal sketchbook for a long while. Even when I had deleted most social medias off my phone, I still couldn't bring myself to draw. It felt like a chore.

But sometimes I'd log into Tumblr on my mobile browser. Just to see this ask. I kept coming back to it. To be honest it's the first real ask I've ever gotten complimenting my art like this. And it felt sad to have received it when I'd pretty much decided to quit art.

But I still didn't delete it. I kept the ask even though I thought once in awhile I should reply with a "thanks but I don't do art anymore sorry" or something a bit more witty. Idk. But I'm not witty. But I am apparently very sentimental considering I've kept this ask as what I now think was hopes of someday coming back to answer it properly if I ever got out of the rutt I felt I was stuck in forever.

And I did get out.

Comparison is one of the worst things an artist can do to themselves. In comparing, i set unrealistic expectations for myself and my art. And in doing so I nearly lost the one thing that I think genuinely makes me happy. (I'm not even kidding like I couldn't even do a silly doodle without hating it) I personally think it's great to have big goals and big dreams with your own art. But to expect yourself to reach those things right off the bat or in a shorter time frame than is realistic is just going to put pressure on your shoulders that will inevitably make doing art feel like a burden since it feels like you're working so hard and not seeing any results. But it's because the results you're expecting aren't things that happen so easily with everyone.

There's also the fact that in setting these unrealistic expectations and comparisons, I began to dislike my art because I wasn't doing it for myself. Not really anyways. I was doing it for my expectations. But not for my enjoyment. I could only enjoy it if I met my expectations. But I never did (since they were so high and not reasonable) and so I stopped feeling the satisfaction and joy that comes with creating.

So, obviously in the time I was away I had to focus on 1. Being more realistic in my expectations and 2. Having fun. These seem very obvious things for any artist to do or remember but I needed the reminder apparently. And I try to keep that in mind everytime I do art now. I try not to be too harsh on myself and just enjoy the process. Because the process of creating is very nice and I missed it quite a lot. I missed getting an idea, sketching it out and slowly but surely bringing that idea to life. Even if it's just a silly fanart. It makes me happy to see it because after so long not creating a thing and hating it all, it's like welcoming back a dear friend. And that friend is me and my art.

💚💖💚

All this to say, I decided to pursue art more seriously and intentionally because I like it. I like the process of creating. I like the end results. Art is something I've always done and it's something I hope to always do in the future. It's not my job. But it's a hobby I pursue with intention because it feels good to share my art and it feels good to have it be appreciated and it feels even more fantastic to actually have someone like it so much they want to buy it (shout out to that person who earned me 25 cents on my first Redbubble sale. I actually cried). It's satisfying and validating, I, of course, won't let myself get swept up in the validation from others anymore. But I pursue it with purpose because art was never just some little thing for me. And hopefully it never will be.

But thank you again anon for your ask, I am very sorry I gave you unnecessary art journey details and rants in this answer but I hope you know your words were very helpful and if I'm being honest very motivating. To think at least one person liked my art enough to say it in ask form was something that made me feel better every now and then.

#jaz talks #a lot btw #anon ask #asks #jaz answers #dunno if anyone will read all this but i had to get it out #might delete if i feel embarrassed in the morning though haha #hopefully any of this is coherent

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katiethekwasolover101 · 5 months ago

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Apologies - it’s late again, I know. (Wait - do you guys actually read these?)

As always, feel free to share your thoughts on the story so far below.

Link to Chapter 2:

The Heroes of Aeseganora: Part 2 - The Protection Of The Core

Chapter 3: All Paws, Tentacles and Fins on Deck

It seemed to the Octonauts that this meeting was urgent from what Ollum had implied in his words - something had happened in Aeseganora. Although they still didn’t know Ollum that well, they knew that he was not in the habit of appearing in the Launch Bay unannounced - or at all, for that matter.

But, in a way, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. They were afraid that something like this would happen sooner or later; ever since he had told them that restoring the Oca-Tree was only the start of their mission, they knew it would only be a matter of time before they were contacted for help again. Additionally, things seemed different, as well - it was as though simply knowing about the leak of Aeseganora had made it more likely that things would start happening.

Of course, Aeseganora had been crumbling for some time - crops weren’t growing, so food products had gone out of stock, towns were disintegrating, people were disappearing, as were kingdoms, like the desert that Tweak had landed herself in.

It seemed to the Octonauts that they became the Heroes of Aeseganora just when Aeseganora needed them the most.

It didn’t take long for everyone to gather around in HQ, as Barnacles and Ollum stood nearby the monitors.

“Octonauts,” Ollum began gravely. “As you may have guessed from when you saw me in the Launch Bay, things have rapidly changed in Aeseganora. And I’m got going to lie to you all, I kind of guessed this would start happening myself.”

“You guessed what might start happening?” Tweak asked, her ears twisted together with anxiety.

“The once unknown threat behind the magical leak in the first place has picked up that the Oca-Tree had been restored, and it has made them furious that things were getting back to normal. And as well as being on the hunt for more kingdoms in Aeseganora to devour, they have been attacking citizens’ livelihoods directly, disrupting public service operations like the Drageisbjørn’s Magic Pickup. A few of the other worlds in this Earth have also been losing power as a result of destruction of their power sources. That’s how it began in Aeseganora - it’s happening there, it’s happening in other kingdoms, and it’s happening right now.”

“So, Ollum, yer Majesty, may I ask what you are doing on the Octopod?” Kwazii asked, perhaps slightly more bluntly than he intended.

“Well, when somebody identified the threat and sent the world that the threat was seen in Ocalihalla again, I didn’t feel safe staying there after that.” Ollum explained, his face seeming to become more scared as he spoke.

“May I ask what this threat has been called?” Shellington asked out of curiosity: it made sense to ask if the threat had a proper name, rather than to keep calling it the threat.

“The Oullen,” Ollum answered, as his hands created a hydra-like monster who also looked like an average land or sea creature. Almost immediately, there were gasps of surprised horror amongst the whole crew, and Inkling moved towards the hot cocoa machine. When frightened or scared, make hot chocolate: that was not exactly the Octonauts’ typical response to somebody who was upset, but the drink did help them calm down at least a little bit.

As soon as the mugs were given out to everyone, Ollum grabbed the Octonauts’ attention again. “If the Oullen are on the move again, we need to find something even more vital than the Oca-Tree and your weapons. And it is essential that we are the ones to find it first.” “OK,” Barnacles said. “What do we need to find?”

Ollum met the polar bear’s gaze, and his eyes narrowed in determination. “The Core - the heart of the multiverse.”

****************

“The Core?” Kwazii asked, confused. “Is that some kind of curse?” “Kwazii,” Ollum chided him. “The King is speaking here, and no, not an curse - the Core is the beating heart of the multiverse, the hub of its existence. If the Oullen find it before us, they will destroy it, and that will mean only one thing: the end of the multiverse, all the worlds within it, and the end of Earth, as we know it.”

That statement sent chills of horror running through the crew. The only worlds that they had ever been into were Aeseganora and their Earth, and there were still so many that they had yet to explore. They had sometimes wondered about the wonders that lay within them, but if the Oullen were to take the Core, they would never get the chance to explore them, ever. Everything they had ever known would disappear into nothing - their families, their friends, their homes, all creatures, all habitats and environments… everything.

It wasn’t just the urgency of the situation - if the Octonauts were to try and find it themselves, it would be extremely dangerous - there was a chance that they could be set upon by the Oullen - or any other threatening creatures that may be lurking around, waiting to attack.

This was definitely something that they would not be able to do alone, even with Ollum’s guidance.

It was a big mission, therefore, it would require a big team.

And with that in mind, Barnacles looked to Ollum, who was thinking exactly what he was thinking.

“Ollum, would you like to sound the Octo-Alert?” Barnacles asked him.

He did - and summoned the Octo-Agents.

The alert was heard on each of their Octo-Watches, one by one, along with Ollum’s voice as it spoke.

“Calling all Octo-Agents, calling all Octo-Agents,” he begun. “This is King Ollum of Aeseganora speaking to all of you. Our world is in great danger, and we have to fight in order to save it. Please report to myself and Captain Barnacles Polarshadow immediately.”

At that moment, all of their faces appeared on all three monitors from the ceiling.

“Wow, there certainly are a lot of you,” Ollum remarked. “Salutations, Octo-Agents.”

“Salutations, King Ollum,” they all said together.

“Thank you all so much for answering this call from myself in the Octopod. I trust that you’re all wondering why a total stranger has sounded the Octo-Alert. Well, I want to assure all of you that I am not a threat, nor are any of you in trouble. I have called you because our world is in huge danger from a threat stealing magic from the worlds within our planet, including this one.”

They all looked at each other in confusion. Magic? Other worlds? Within our planet? Is this person from the moon?

“Look - meet me in the Octopod’s HQ, and I’ll explain everything there.” he sighed, taking notice of their faces.

They obliged - and some time later, Paani (the hydrologist macaque monkey), Pearl (the marine biologist sea otter who was Shellington’s older sister), Tracker (the polar bear who was the operator of the Polar Scout Emergency Post, as well as being Barnacles’ former mentee), Min (the cartographer red panda who was Inkling’s old friend, and his girlfriend), Ryla (the cave diving wombat), Professor Natquik (the arctic fox who was a specialist in ice and snow, as well as being Barnacles’ former mentor), Calico Jack (the pirate cat who was Kwazii’s grandfather) and Ranger Marsh (the park ranger bunny who was Tweak’s father), along with Selva (the botanist iguana) and Bud (the sustainable builder beaver who was Tweak’s mentee), were all gathered in HQ, and Inkling was offering them all hot chocolate and a kelp cake or fish biscuit, which they accepted, all whilst trying to figure out what on Earth was going on here, who this weirdo was, and what he was talking about in terms of other worlds and magic.

“What in tarnation do y’all think he’s talking about?”

“I have no idea!”

“Well, this has better be good.” “Yes, whatever he’s on about, it had better be for a good reason - I still haven’t finished my hydrology log.” “Crikey, this is strange.”

“Look, guys, just listen to him - it might well be worth it!”

“The Oullen are the biggest threat known to the multiverse,” Ollum explained after he’d told them about the Octonauts’ last adventure in Aeseganora, the one where they restored the Oca-Tree. “When they were stopped for the first time by the old Heroes of Aeseganora, the Heroes vowed to do everything that they could to prevent their powers from growing - and they did, finishing it all off with keeping the Core locked away in a case which is indestructible all but those with express permission, in order to protect it. If anything were to happen to it, it could bring about the end of everything.”

“But why does Core have to be locked away?” Min asked. “If it’s what’s keeping this planet alive?” “The Core is special because of the power and danger that it could unleash, if used,” said Ollum. “That’s why it has to be kept in the case - to keep it safe, so that its power can only be used if the anguish of the multiverse is so beyond repair that there is no other option but to use it. The mere knowledge of the Core’s existence had scared the Oullen off many times, as there was the risk that it would be used if they ever returned.”

“So, where do we find this scurvy Core?” Calico Jack asked.

“Well, truthfully, I don’t know,” Ollum shrugged his shoulders. “But I do know that it’s not something that you simply leave lying around - it’ll likely be put somewhere no-one can get to…” he trailed off, thinking.

All of a sudden, a lightbulb lit up in his mind. “Aha! If you could all just come into Aeseganora with me, I know somebody who can help us.” he said.

And that’s what they all did.

#octonauts #octonauts above and beyond #upcoming fanfic #the heroes of aeseganora #fanfic

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voxxisms · 8 months ago

Text

HESITANCE IN MOTION. extensions of the self withdrawing just slightly as hingers delved into the threat's own flesh, uncertain what to make of the claim. evidence of his own attack, dropped to the ground && coated in a satsifactory amount of blood, life force. blue, transparent - like tongue swiped across his teeth, as though imagining the irony flavor that might accompany such a feast. but most of the focus had to remain on the claws. weapons in their own right, clearly.

but then the threatening figure shrank. fell back into something significantly more familiar, with answers to boot.

it clicked very quickly. the ever - present smile, the name ringing a soft bell in his mind, surging forth memories that now matched the face in front of him, bowed though he may have been. memories of a time long past, but one he felt tinged with love && joy, putting each muscle at ease. he shrank in turn, his body falling to a lesser threat, corded appendages retracting all the way, gun shoved into a compartment that opened from his upper thigh. feet touched the ground, no longer prepared to take flight, && a widespread grin covered his expression.

❛ my word, alastor, why didn't you lead with that! good lord, i could have killed you, i was really out of it, my sincerest apologies, how long has it been? i had a hard time recognising you, you should have said something sooner. ❜ his words were not the least bit insincere, either, approaching the other now rather quickly, a hand outstretched to him.

❛ we should absolutely catch up, my friend, it's been ... what? fifteen years? something like that, i'm not sure, where have you been hiding? ❜

"You shot me," it's nearly petulant, Alastor reaching in to his own torso with one clawed hand, searching for the foreign intrusion. They'd fall out on their own eventually, but Alastor was always one for dramatics. Blood splattered to the ground as he fished around for one of the irritants. The first one he found was nearly all the way through him, nicking his spine. A minor irritant at best, as long as they weren't blessed, despite the size and way it was designed to bore and shatter. Maximum damage, impressive really, he held it out to Vox as if to return it before letting it clatter to the ground wetly, covered in viscera.

"Not exactly the welcome home I expected," radio dial eyes searched Vox's reinforced screen, looking for any hint of recognition. His head twitched, one of the bullets still inside rubbing against a bundle of nerves. The digital screen of LED was somewhat difficult for an analog creature like Alastor to read, never mind the look of frustrated hostility, something that Alastor didn't think he'd ever seen on Vox before.

Despite the weapons and cables that threatened to strike, Alastor wasn't afraid. His relationship with that particular emotion was nearly non-existent. His own form of madness - what a pair they made! One too terrified, the other not enough. Alastor stood down, shifting his mass into the more normal size to sweep his arm into a bow. "I should think you do know me! Alastor, pleasure to be seeing you again, Vox, quite the pleasure!"

Not even a lie - as twisted as Vox was, that simply gave Alastor a puzzle to solve. He did so love brainteasers.

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anaveragebibliophile · 3 years ago

Text

All For Him

Young!Legolas x Thranduil x Wife!Reader

Summary: Lord Elrond comes to Mirkwood to ask a favor of his oldest friend, Thranduil. However, the stoic, unyielding king isn’t as willing to follow through on the request because of the danger it will put his family in.

Honestly, when you stumbled into your husband’s study that morning, you didn’t expect to feel so puzzled and flabbergasted. You didn’t anticipate Thran’s summons to be anything more than a request for information about Legolas (which you were happy to provide), a question regarding supper, or an idea for date night. So the last person you expected to see was Lord Elrond, the ruler of Rivendell, arguing with his trusted confidant and friend of many eons near the balcony.

“Thran, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” you queried as you stepped into the room, incisors biting into your lower lip.

“Queen (y/n), what a pleasant surprise,” Lord Elrond replied, consequently ending the argument, as he walked over to take your wrist and place a chaste, respectful kiss on the back of your hand. “My sincerest apologies for not seeking you out sooner.”

“That’s quite alright, Elrond. You know that. I too wish I had known you were here earlier, but I unfortunately got sidelined. We took a short walk in the gardens this morning, all three of us, when Legolas ended up tripping on a very small rock. Thranduil and I tried to utilize the open--and what we thought was a safe--space as a way for him to grow more comfortable walking without our help. That strategy worked well for us. Until today. None of us had seen the ant-sized pebble roll over his tiny heel, making him lose his balance and unknowingly place his hand on a grounded bee’s stinger to stabilize himself.”

“My goodness! How is he doing?”

“As well as can be expected. As he got himself up, he whimpered a little bit which isn’t normally like him. Even if he takes a tumble, he’ll usually still maintain his normal demeanor--sweet, timid, and smiley. But once we saw his palm start to swell up, we knew something was wrong. Thran rushed him to the healer, who was more than willing to keep an eye on him. Ever since then, he’s been given herbs to reduce the swelling and irritation at the site of the wound as well as water to keep him hydrated. Thank you for asking.”

Once you finished sharing that traumatizing experience, you looked over to your husband, whose face was devoid of color. Out of the two of you, he had been the most panicked over Legolas’ well-being. ‘Is he breathing?’ he’d asked. ‘What if he has a reaction to the toxins?’ he’d wondered. ‘What if we didn’t get him to the healer’s quarters in time?’ he’d said, voice cracking under all the emotions. Unfortunately, the man is an aggressive worrier who feels the most stress when he’s involved in a situation that’s completely out of his control. His son inadvertently getting stung by a bee? Yeah, definitely an event that drove your husband up a wall.

“He’s doing fine, Thran. He and I cuddled in his rocking chair for about twenty minutes before he fell asleep. Before that though, he did want me to tell you that he loves you,” I said, trying to soothe him as best as I could given the circumstances.

Even though Legolas is still quite young and not fluent in Sindarin yet, he does have a few sentences that he likes to use every now and again. His favorite though is ‘gi melin’, the Sindarian version of ‘I love you’. Anytime he’s reunited with you or Thran, he’ll smile so wide (with his one tooth showing itself off) and almost shout the words out (as if you won’t hear him clearly without that extra pizzaz). Both you and your husband agree that it’s probably the sweetest thing your little leaf has ever done (and Legolas is the epitome of sweet).

“I love him too. More than life. Which is why I cannot allow Sauron’s ring and its company to enter Mirkwood. I am sorry, Elrond, but my answer is final. You will not be able to change my mind on the subject,” your husband said.

“Sauron’s ring? So young Frodo is alive then, is he not? I heard about your daughter saving him from the hands of the Nazgûl but wasn’t sure of its veracity,” you mentioned.

“Yes. He is recovered and wishes to continue on the quest to destroy the ring at Mount Doom. However, we are trying to avoid the company’s traveling in the open at night and are looking for places for them to seek refuge. I am trying to convince Thranduil to offer his kingdom, but it seems that that has been more difficult than I originally presumed. He fears for your safety and Legolas’ too much.”

Speaking of Legolas, a soft knock on the door soon presented you with the little leaf in the arms of his nanny, Elva.

“Legolas, darling, what are you doing up so early?” I asked, my lips perking up into a small grin.

“Ada, Nana!” he blubbered, pointing to us. “Gi melin, gi melin, gi melin.”

“I apologize, Your Majesties. As you can see, the prince woke up a bit early from his nap. All of the maids attempted to keep him occupied in his chambers, but it was no use. He only wanted to see his nostairi (parents),” Elva explained.

“That is quite alright, Elva. I have not seen enough of him today. Thank you for bringing him to us,” your husband responded, moving over as Legolas reached out for him, and, once in his arms, began snuggling into his chest. “Hello, iôn nîn. I hope you slept well.”

“How’s his hand, Thran?”

Your husband took your question as an opportunity to lightly pull Legolas’ right arm out from where it was hiding in front of his stomach. “It is still a tad swollen but not too severe.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“Nana, gi melin,” your son whispered behind your husband’s robes.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” you responded, lightly running your fingers through his hair and down his back.

Watching the interaction ensue, Thranduil softly smiled down at the two loves of his life. The first one--his wife--who taught him the beauty behind exuding kindness, positivity, and light. The one who guided him back to the meaning of life. And the second one--his son--who embodies all the genuine goodness that his wife bestowed upon him in their early years together. He’ll never know how he got so lucky, but that unknown answer will never prevent him from being grateful.

“Ada, gi melin,” your son quietly hummed as he lifted himself up to kiss Thran’s cheek.

“Iôn nîn, gi melin as well. Very much.”

But then the unthinkable happened. Your little leaf turned his body away from Thranduil to look at Elrond. “Gi melin!” he shouted, a smile creeping up his face (with his lone tooth on display).

“Well, I cannot say I am not shocked,” the lord responded, just as confounded as the rest of the group. Although Legolas was a very empathetic elfling, the reality was that he only shared that sentence with two people: his parents. So his sharing that sentiment with another-- a person he doesn’t spend every day with, let alone see once a month--was very odd, yet exciting in its own way. In your mind, maybe this was a sign that he was feeling more comfortable around his parents’ trusted friends. Maybe he saw the camaraderie in the room and felt soothed by it. Maybe he was no longer experiencing such debilitating episodes of timidity.

“It appears he has taken a strong liking to you, Elrond,” you responded. “And now that you know the depth of his affections, are you truly going to permit an evil, dark presence permeating Mirkwood’s halls?”

He pondered that question in no time at all before saying, “No. I will not be the one to put this child at risk. Perhaps Frodo and his company can stay a few extra days at Rivendell. It really is not a problem.”

At that declaration, you and Thranduil humbly nodded (hiding your smiles as best you could because this was a serious matter after all). “Thank you, my friend. Your concern for our son is much appreciated and will never be forgotten.”

“I know you would have done the same for me had I been in your shoes. Legolas deserves to be safe and comforted in his own kingdom without his parents having to worry about whether the ring will wreak havoc and harm him in the process. Besides, I want to return to Mirkwood in a few months’ time and still be on his list of love.” And everyone, including Legolas, giggled at that.

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kandulce · 3 years ago

Note

Pstt wanna know a secret? I think you’re hell cool and it’s been a lot of fun getting to know you! It’s nice to have another fellow homestuck to get my references and your art absolutely looks amazing. Hope you have a wonderful new year!

melody,,,,, melody I saw this ask pretty much as soon as it popped up sincerest apologies not answering this sooner and also it’s 3 am so im,,,,, no words good rn but I finished this so I’m saying stuff now I probably should have had a draft ready h e c c BUT!! but, you are also hella cool u are a wonderful mutual I get like a golden retriever when I I see u in my notes n seeing ur hs references on my dash is just,,,, chefs kiss I hope u have a wonderful new year!! Also I love ur aus I tried drawing ur Zib but I’m unsure of the accuracy and!! And ur owl but I had more time then last time :P I hope u enjoy!!

#I know #I know my guys face is a little uh #a little rough but listen this is the first time in like 3 weeks that I’ve committed to a drawing that’s it that’s the video word limit shit #oh shit that’s the TAG limit ooooooh #huh #well that makes other reblog awkward well #I just finished a 52 vid playlist of warzone there is a wacky Content Creaotr Youtuber in my head literally my vocabulary’s fucked #happy new year melody I’m sorry about the rambling!#:D #I admire u sm ur words r guy #gif #g u d

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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago

Text

Mind Games (Alec Volturi x Reader)

Everyone had warned you about the twins, the 'witch twins'. They were described as pure evil incarnate yet when you met them, their sadistic side was apparent, even their standoffish nature but nothing came across as pure evil. You were warned that they looked innocent but it was an act. Everyone you had ever known told you to stay away from them, no matter what they say or do.

You tried to remember the advice, keeping it in the back of your mind as the two introduced themselves to you and even grew to befriend you. Still the advice rang in your head but you couldn't help but feel sorry for them. That perhaps they were a little misunderstood or just wanted someone. You couldn't explain how Alec drew you in. If anything he seemed to influence your friendship with Jane. Everyone had told you to stay away yet the twins were encouraging. They didn't recoil when you told them your gift as many did.

You were honest, your gift made you do terrible things. It wasn't exactly enamoring. Perhaps that made you drawn to them more, outcasts meeting outcasts. They seemed to enjoy your ability and more specifically, the dark things you had done with it during your past. You weren’t proud of those times and they didn't lecture you or encourage you to do worse. Instead they accepted it, they had done some pretty wicked things and anyone who didn't was associated with someone who had. Seemingly that's just how it is in the vampire world.

Somehow, the friendship naturally progressed to Alec wanted to stay behind to spend more time with you. It was always talking in the most secluded areas where no one would find you. The forest, against a particular large tree, moss acting as a seat. In fields and meadows where you both would be hidden sitting among the grass. The two of you would just roam, finding the perfect spot to sit and enjoy the moment. Neither of you brought up the progression of the friendship. It came natural when you both began to sit that little more closer than before. Lingering touches, like Alec running his finger along the side of your jaw absentmindedly. It was easy to be around Alec. You didn't always have to talk, explain yourself. He already knew. The atmosphere was intense but never uncomfortable. The world continued on but you and Alec were stuck in your own bubble.

You turned your head and suddenly jerked back with yelp. Alec turned his own head quickly to you. "What did you do? I looked away for two seconds!" "That bit of grass went up my nose." You heaved, covering your face. "Wait... seriously?" Alec's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah. I literally moved into it." You replied, still cradling your nose. "Are you being dramatic? Surely you-" You cut Alec off. "No, trust me. It went straight up there. It went so far up my nose that I think it could reach some distant childhood memories." Alec couldn't help but laugh. "You're an idiot! Are you okay?" "Yeah, think so." You nodded, grabbing the specific blade of grass, tearing it from the roots and tossing it behind you. "Now I've had vengeance." Alec shook his head with an amused smile. "I can't believe you did that. Pay attention to your surroundings! What had you so distracted?"

That was a tricky question, because you had been thinking about him at the time. However you couldn't tell him that. "I don't know." You shrugged, looking down at the ground. "That's a lie." Alec pointed out. You knew you couldn't lie to Alec, but it had been worth the try. "If I tell you, you can't freak out." You began. "That's concerning. Should I be worried?" Alec asked. "No, it's not bad but it's a secret. If I tell you, you can't freak out." Alec nodded in response. You stared at him momentarily, clearly very nervous. Quickly, you leaned in, meetings Alec's lips with your own. He stayed very still and you decided it was best if you pulled back. Although when you did, Alec immediately chased after your lips, this time kissing you. His hand moving to pull your face closer to him.

That kiss remained a secret, although a happy one. Never to be mentioned around anyone else. Everyone told you to stay away from the twins, that they were dangerous. You probably should have listened.

When another two men who were introduced as Felix and Demetri, met you in the place you were to meet the twins along with them, you knew something wasn't right. You grew nervous with the feeling as though you had just stepped into a trap. You took a step back, your unease written all over your face. "Calm down." Alec said as the two twins stepped closer. "We're friends, aren't we?" "Friends?" You repeated. "Yes." Alec smiled slightly. "Well, you and I may be a little closer than that." With a small smirk, Alec ran his fingers along his bottom lip. "We're friends." Jane continued. "We'd like to take you to meet more friends." Alec continued. Jane stopped but Alec took a larger step forward, his dark most surrounding you in seconds. You slumped forward, into Alec's shoulder. He hummed in amusement. "Well that was a little too easy for my liking." Felix chuckled. You had begun to slide of Alec's shoulder but before you could hit the ground Felix scooped you up.

Your eyes snapped open, Alec's mist retracting. You sat up with a startled gasp. You looked around to see a room that was made of stone and marble. Before you sat three vampires. "Ah, young (Y/N), you're awake!" You quickly moved to your feet and in seconds you had the twins to your right, Demetri and Felix stood to your left. All four had their eyes latched on you for any sudden movements. The man in the middle descended the stairs to his throne with a gleam in his eyes. "Our sincerest apologies for not making your acquaintance sooner. I'm afraid we had other matters to attend to. Although I hear nothing but good things about you. Our dear Alec, told us so much about you." He stepped closer. "My name is Aro, behind me are my brothers, Marcus and Caius." Aro gestured to each as though this was a friendly introduction. You, however, were still in the mindset that you had been brought here against your will. That, you wouldn't forget so easily.

Aro's hand locked onto yours. He hummed quietly in amusement. “There's so much in your mind. It branches out into others. I don't know where to begin. You see, my dear, your mind doesn't seem to work like others. People minds are so easy to read, their thoughts just come to me but for you, cara mia, it appears I must decide where to look." Your head snapped up. "Get out of my head!" You screamed. Your fingers wiggled free of Aro's. Your own fingers covering his in a tight grip that was painful. Suddenly Aro couldn't see in your head anymore. Aro gasped, a sharp pain coursing through his head. His own mind flashing before his eyes and that was when he had realised this was you. Almost like a filing cabinet, every thought he had ever had, every memory, you rifled through them all quickly. Each tiny detail became agonizing. Aro began to cry out in pain."Get out!" You didn't, only continuing to poke through his brain. He finally tore his hand free from your grasp, staggering back. Aro couldn't help but look at your hand. Your fingers wiggled slightly, resembling the motion he could imagine someone's fingers would make hunting through a filing cabinet. You glared at him. "Dungeons." Aro seethed. "Take them to the dungeons!"

"Demetri..." Your voice echoed in his mind. "You track the mind. Cling to tenors of people, I see...so many people." Demetri clenched his jaw, slowing to a stop. "Get out of my head." "No." You said simply. Demetri silently cursed himself. He knew he shouldn't have touched you. Yet he did so without thinking and now you had tapped into his head. "That's so bizarre...it's like intangible ropes, pulling you towards everyone." "You're a parasite! Get out of my head!" Demetri seethed. You seemed to laugh at this. "You did it to yourself. You can't blame me for what goes on in your head. At the end of the day...I'm in the dungeons." Your voice lowered, becoming more forceful. "You put me here."

Suddenly the corridor before him shifted. He couldn't explain it but before his eyes was a seemingly endless hallway with doors, that branched out into more corridors with doors. A maze that was on going. Mazes were never an issue for Demetri, he just had to follow the scent of who he was hunting and he'd find his way out on his own. However this seemed to not be the case this time. Demetri noticed that every direction, the pull of his gift sent him. He couldn't latch onto one particular person and the scents were so tangled that it seemed as though everyone was everywhere all at the same time, leaving no room untouched. Demetri then knew that you were messing with his head, his gift, just as you had done so to Aro. "A parasite, you say..." You mused. "...have you ever looked in the mirror and hated what looked back at you?" Demetri wasn't going to give you the pleasure of an answer, however you continued without skipping a beat. "I think I'm more of a reflection. Or more specifically, a reflection of your gift. I'm reflecting your gift that you press onto others, back onto you and now your poor little brain is all confused." Demetri could hear the pout in your voice and it only aggravated him more.

Five hours had passed, you'd gone quiet quite some time ago. Almost immediately after mocking him. However, things were not back to normal. In fact, for the past five hours he's been roaming the halls. Doors led to more corridors and even more doors. There was no pattern, just a constant loop that even going backwards didn't seem to have any use. Since then, Demetri had lost all sense of direction and had no idea where he had started. Although to his surprise, when turning another corner, the scene had finally changed. He looked back seeing the same normal corridor he had looked at for all these hours but turning that corner lay ahead a different corridor and the very one he had been heading for. Whatever influence you had over his head, it was gone.

Jane's visit was surprising and very rushed. She held up a bag of blood. Who really knew where she got that from but blood bags weren't as appetizing as from the vein. You were willing to bet she hadn't even heated it up. "Here. For you. I'm afraid I can only give you one, but it'll be enough to keep the thirst at bay." She put her hand through the bars, holding out the bag. You stared at her. "Hurry up or I'll drop it." Jane said coldly. This is probably the most loving you had ever seen her and is probably the best she's capable of being nice. You moved forward and took it from her. "Thanks and thanks for adding some attitude with it. It's great to see you too." Jane rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to sit and watch you complain." "Apparently you're not going to be my friend either." You shot back. "You're being ridiculous. I'm busy, I have a job to do. I can't coddle you until you come around. I am your friend and so take that as some friendly advice." "Coddle!?" You snapped incredulously. "You kidnapped me! Where was the coddling you speak of exactly!?" "Yes, we did. However this isn't a bad place to be and you aren't being tortured." Jane responded simply. "You can't be serious." You said in awe. "Jane, if I took you to the Cullen's against your will and told you that you should be happy because it isn't a bad place to be, would you be happy!?" "I don't have time for this." Jane insisted. "I could have just left you down here to starve but I didn't. I took time out of my day to make sure you're a little more comfortable. If you don't believe we're friends then that isn't my problem. That's yours. I've been nothing but honest the whole time." "Wow. Thank you so much Jane for putting me in this situation and keeping me comfortable." You responded with sarcasm. "Keep talking to me like that and i'll-" Jane began but you interrupted. "Or what? You'll put me in the dungeon? Oh wait." Your eyes narrowed on her with a cold gaze. "Are you sure you want to test me, (Y/N)?" Jane asked. "Are you?" You responded. Jane didn't answer in words but the agony you quickly felt responded for her. Although you were just as quick to remember how to make the pain stop. You grabbed her arm before falling to the ground. She tore her arm away with a growl but the damage was already done. You looked into her eyes and suddenly you didn't feel the pain anymore, Jane on the other hand, let out a very loud scream, immediately collapsing to the ground. Somehow, she couldn't stop the pain, even when she immediately halted inflicting her gift. Yet the pain kept going. With bars separating you both, it was then you who stood over her. "Does that hurt?" You asked lightly as she continued to scream. "I hope that hurts." You said, eyes boring into Jane. "A lot." You added.

Suddenly Alec came rushing down the stairs along with Felix, Demetri and Santiago. You released Jane and Alec wasted no time upon arrival rushing to his sister's side. You smiled at the guards before turning away to lie down on the stone bench. As soon as Alec was certain his twin was right he shot you a glare. "You know, you're glaring at me like this is my fault. Like I wasn't the one taken here against my will and threatened with torture." You turned your head, eyes meeting Alec's. "And you want me to believe I was ever your friend?" "We are your friends but we also have orders and our limits." "Only with everyone else, Alec. Neither of you were ever taught when to stop." Your smile vanishing. "You got your sister, now go away."

Aro, Caius and Marcus approached your cell quietly and you smiled sweetly. "Demetri said you'd be back. You did." Your smile vanished. "Good." You said with a lower tone of voice. "We've been trying to understand your gift. It's been quite a conundrum." Aro began. "Oh really?" You responded blankly. "Do you know what it is?" Caius asked. "No, but it's very good for self defense." You said flatly. "We have concluded that you mimic gifts after physical contact with them." Aro continued. "Therefore, you aren't a mind reader, you copied my gifts and used them against me." A flash of anger crossed Aro's face before returning to a stoic demeanor. "You should never look into someone's mind without permission." You agreed. "It's fascinating though isn't it?" "What is?" Aro responded. "People are like doors to us. One touch and we're in. Yours is very nice. It's consistent. You know what to expect. For me, I could be given anything. Vampires with abilities are much more interesting. Those without, it's just pure mind control. I confuse them all the time, they never know what they're actually seeing.", You cracked a smile. "I made one jump off a cliff for no reason. Although, Carlisle was helping me to be a better person. Anyway, that is irrelevant. The point is, you've gotten very comfortable opening doors. Now you're discovering that some doors should never be opened." You stared at Aro. "You should have never looked into my head because now I've looked in yours." You watched as Aro stiffened again, his eyes piercing through you with a deadly look. You stared back into his eyes. "It kills you to think of how much I discovered in the seconds I was in your head. Doesn't it?" Aro didn't respond and you continued. "You even know that if you tried to find out, I'd be back in your head again and I would only do the same as before." "Alec tells us that you've never been so hostile during his time with you." Aro says, moving the conversation before you could say anymore. "That happens when your kidnapped by someone who you thought was a friend. I'm more than aware this was the plan all along." "You could make this easier if you'd join us. You'd be very happy here." Aro responded. "Easier for you." You corrected. "No thanks." "Then you'll remain here until you change your mind and you will, my dear. You will change your mind." You cracked an amused smile. "We'll see."

To your surprise, Alec visited you alone. You remained silent. "You know I don't like you being down here." Alec admitted. "You're the one who put me here." You responded. "Felix and Demetri did actually." Alec shot back and you cracked an amused smile. "Whatever." "Would you forgive me?" Alec asked, joking long gone. "If I said I was sorry for our intentions, for ensuring you ended up here. Would you forgive me?" "That depends on what happens next." You responded quietly. "Forever is an awfully long time to be held captive."

In seconds Alec curled his fingers around the bars, leaning in close. "Just... come up to the bars." Alec said. Slowly you sat in front of the bars, leaning forward slightly. "You shouldn't have brought me here." You told him simply. "My ability is addictive, you know that. I'll hurt people." "That doesn't change my mind about you. Just...don't do that to my sister again. You know-" "She started it." You interrupted. "I know...and I spoke to her." Alec responded. "I told her I didn't appreciate it. She didn't like it herself because she really had began to consider you a friend.We all have bad habits. You're just as quick to use your gift as Jane is to use her own." "You know if you let me out...if you were my friend, you would." Alec smiled sadly, raising a hand to your cheek. "I can't. Perhaps in a perfect world I could, but I'm not perfect, no one is and this world will never be perfect." You looked down in disappointment but didn't move away from his hand. He looked at you momentarily before using the grip he had on the side your face and pulling you towards the bars. He met your lips between the spaces of the bars with his own. In that moment, he had proven what his words could not. He knew the power he had given you with even the lightest of touches yet had given it anyway. A sign of complete trust. Alec broke the kiss. "I want you to stay. Just...think about that." He moved away, letting go. He sent you one last look before heading back upstairs, leaving you alone in the dungeons once more.

It wasn't often Alec spent some time alone. There was something about the leave and quiet, the silence enveloped him and put him at ease. He didn't think it would have been possible for someone with super hearing to ever have such a thing as silence. Yet everyone seemed to learn how to be silent, unnoticed. Every movement is graceful and quiet. Knowing you were several floors below him was comforting. In his eyes, the closer you were, the safer you were. Although he couldn't completely enjoy it. You didn't want to be there. Alec wasn't stupid, he knew you didn't just mean the dungeons and he wasn't going to pretend. You didn't want to be there, in the castle. It took you time to ever feel safe in an area. Volterra was so new that it was no surprise that you wanted to flee. Although Alec still hoped you'd stay. If you wanted to stay with him, it would make everything better. Aro wanted you and he'd never let you go. You were clever enough to figure that out. Although you were too stubborn to accept it. Alec lay back on his bed. He rarely used it much like the rest of the vampires in the castle. Although they could appreciate a soft place to land so they were always given if requested. Alec closed his eyes with a deep, unnecessary exhale. When his eyes opened, they widened. You loomed over Alec, smiling, like a predator that had caught it's prey. "Aren't you happy to see me?" "You're not supposed to be here. How did you-?" Alec moved to sit up but realised very quickly that he couldn't move and it wasn't your weight holding him down. He looked over at his hands as best as he could, they didn't even twitch. He looked back up at you startled. "Not a nice feeling is it? To not be able to move but, it could be worse. That's only one of your senses. You take away all five. However, you'll need the other ones. Well, maybe not your sense of smell." You asked. Alec's eyes as suddenly that was gone too. "You did this to me to bring me here and countless others. Are you scared? Like I was to wake up in an unknown place?" Your hands cradled Alec's head. "For what it's worth..." You softly pressed your lips to his in a brief, sweet kiss. You straightened up again. "Although that isn't what I intend to do. I want you to feel the fear I did, that I do."

Suddenly a match was in your hand. Within a second it was lit. Alec's eyes widened even more in terror. His only fear, fire. You moved it towards his face. "Stop!" He said quickly. You only smiled, moving off of him to lay over him. Your back on his chest, legs in-between his and your head resting next to his on his pillow. You hushed him softly. "It's okay. This isn't real, remember?" Alec swallowed hard, doing his best to remember that. However it didn't make it any easier. "I'd never burn you. However this is the one thing that scares you." You began. "If you hurt me, I'll hurt you. You know that's how it works and these friends of yours have only hurt me. Including you and Jane." Your fingers suddenly curled around the open flame. "Don't!" Alec said quickly, waiting for a cry of pain or the smell of burning flesh- despite having no sense of smell. Although the cry never came. You squeezed your fist tightly around the match, as though suffocating it. When you loosened your hold, revealing the match. It was no longer lit and of any use. "I don't want to hurt you." Alec ground out. "So don't make me. Pull stunts like this and I'll have no choice." You moved off of him, instead rolling into his side. You moved his face to the side, making him look at you. "You said I wasn't evil, yet this place...you make me do evil things. I can do good with this power." Your face changed to one of sadness, looking into Alec's eyes. "I could have loved you once." You said quietly. Without thinking Alec moved his hand to your face. You gasped and Alec seemed just as surprised since he couldn't feel anything else. Yet he had moved his hands. Before anything could be said, a weight was lifted from him, he could feel and smell everything and you were no longer in the room.

You looked down at your hands. Your time with Alec priced that you could use his gift against him. As long as you didn't let anyone else touch you, you could bide your time and escape. However when that time came, your plan didn't work out too well.

It took three days but you decided that Felix -alone- was the best opportunity you'd get. Alec's gift worked momentarily but you had to touch Felix work it to work and the more contact meant the more Alec's gift trickled away from your control. Felix was frozen in place for only moments before Alec's gift faded away entirely. Like clockwork, Felix lunged. You knew you couldn't let him get his hands around your neck. If he did, it was over. You didn't know if Felix was gifted either, it had never been mentioned before but you knew this man was stronger than other vampires...including you. You caught Felix's arms, doing your best to push against him. Slowly he began overpowering you. Suddenly it stopped. It became apparent you seemed to find strength within yourself, a strength you didn't know you had. That was when you realised, whilst push back against Felix, the strength wasn't yours at all. It was his. Although it wouldn't be enough to push back. You couldn't let Felix catch on your realisation before it was too late. So with a spur of the moment decision that could have been very very stupid, you twisted his arms.

You heard sickening cracks, Felix's arms twisting to the elbow in a very unnatural angle and became useless. You quickly tripped him to the ground. "So sorry about this. I just need some more time.” You slammed his head against the stone ground. Cracks forming along his face, neck and no doubt the back of his head- the impact point. You hurried up the stairs to be met with Afton, another guard you had met during your time here. You yelped in panic as you grabbed his hands instinctively and throwing him down the stairs of the dungeons. Before you took off running you heard his landing before Afton let out a startled. "Felix!?" You wanted to kick yourself. You hadn't intended on grabbing Afton's hands which meant Felix's strength was gone. As far as you knew, Afton didn't have a gift or anything that could help you. You had to create as much distance as you could with the dungeons and you had no doubt the Volturi was well aware of your escape by now. You weren't exactly quiet in your execution of the plan.

You found yourself in a large hall of sorts, following the scent of fresh air but it was certainly a process given all the rooms. Within seconds you were grabbed, turned to face the one responsible before tackled to the ground. You realised it was Alec who had a tight grip on your arms. "Stop fighting us!" Alec hissed. "Y'know, what I was called a while ago?" You grinned, struggling against him. "A parasite. Although as far as I see it, nothing I do can get rid of you so who's the parasite now!" You growled as you tried to break Alec's grip that locked you in place but to no avail. "Stop it!" Alec responded. "No!" You snapped back. "You were always going to bring me here. Everyone was right about you. You lied to me. You pretended to be my friend. Hell, you even let me kiss you! I bet you enjoyed how much your little game worked didn't you!?" "Stop talking! You don't know anything! Yes I was sent to find out about you and eventually bring you back but I actually did grow attached." You struggled even more but Alec's grip only got tighter. "Damn it, (Y/N), stop fighting me!" Alec threw you to the ground before pinning you down. You screamed in frustration. Alec had much more experience in combat than you did and you despised how easy you had made it for him. You yelped as you felt his mist creep across your body. "No!" You screamed almost in panic. The last time this happened, you woke up in Italy, where all this began. Alec shushed you as your body went limp. Much like you had done to Alec before, he made sure you couldn't move but could talk, see, hear and smell. You were trapped in your own body. Fear rushed through you.

Alec loomed over you. "Listen to me, (Y/N)." He said firmly to you. "You think I lied to you about how I feel but I didn't. You think I want to hurt you but I don't and you want to hate me but you don't. You know I will always protect you if you would just stop fighting. I need you to stop. I need you here with me." Suddenly the smallest whine escaped him with a word you never thought he'd say. "Please...please." You were quiet for a moment. "Maybe, if things were different it would be easier to say 'i love you', don't you think?" You asked. "You can't keep me." You whispered. Alec slowly shook his head. Denial. "You can't." You continued firmly. "I can't be a part of Aro's collection and you can't use my feelings to keep me here. I don't want to be a weapon. I want to be me. Don't you understand? My power can make me a terrible person and it's up to me to save you from that person." Alec slowly shook his head. "I won't let you." He said quietly. "I know." You whispered back. "I still have to try." Your brow furrowed as though lifting something heavy. A small whimper escaped you and Alec realised what you had done when the same numb feeling he had felt before and given to many others, travelled up his legs and into every bit of his body. In seconds, he couldn't move, whilst you gained feeling back. You rolled him off you gently. "Don't leave me." He mumbled out as best as he could. You said nothing. Instead moving to stand up before you began to walk away. "(Y/N), don't leave me!"

You hurried to maintain some distance again, not knowing how long Alec would stay like that whilst you weren't around. You panicked when you entered another room that was massive. A hallway that had large stone stairs that seemed lead to upstairs on either direction like a 'T'. "No..." You couldn't help but utter. This couldn't be the right way. However, you froze when you heard someone behind you. You turned and much to your horror, it wasn't one person but two.

"We really should have kept Eleazar around. Perhaps then we could have found you years ago." Caius walked towards you, his eyes trained on you. Marcus looked behind him, his eyes also trained on you. "(Y/N)? That's your name isn't it?" Caius asked. You moved up a stair. "You really do have the wrong impression of us, truly. You see, we protect our kind from the human world. We must in these times. Humans have the technology to hurt us after all. We make sure there is justice and protection for our kind. That's all." Caius finished, just below the stairs. Never did he tear his gaze from you.

Slowly he began to ascend the stairs, all the while you moved up more stairs to keep the separation. "Gifts like yours are very difficult to hide from us, rumours run like wildfires in our kind. Yet here you are. Only now in our sights. Tell us, little one. Where have you been hiding?" After a pause and your silence, Caius continued to ascend the stairs and you did the same. "We can make you an offer, one that is unheard of for our coven to give." "Lucky me." You mumbled, trying to keep as much distance as possible. Your comment, surprisingly, went ignored. "The Volturi do not give second chances but you, for your cooperation, we could make an exception. You'd have to keep that a secret. We cannot give such chances to just anyone." As he got closer, Caius put out his hands where you could see them but he could also use that same stance to attack you. It wasn't comforting. "We could help you with that gift. Help you with our way of life. You could live long and well. Our food comes to us, you wouldn't have to hunt."

Marcus was suddenly at the bottom of the stairs and he then spoke up. "My gift senses relationships. I can see your relationship to Alec...and Jane. You don't have anyone else. You keep everyone out, but you want a family. You want people to depend on. We can be your family, we can be the ones you depend on." "You must be desperate to keep me here, to do this yourselves." You said, finally at the top of the stairs. "It'd be unfortunate to have to kill you." Caius responded. "You know my answer." You responded flatly. Caius' eyes narrowed on you, with a slight scowl. "Pity." Just before you could your hands around Caius' neck. He grabbed your arms and threw you down the steps.

You looked up at him as he descended down the stairs, not even in a hurry. You turned quickly, noticing Marcus was only feet away. You hissed, no longer noticing your now dislocated shoulder that had broken your fall at an odd angle. Caius wrapped his hands around your neck, his knee pressing down painfully on your diaphragm. "Oh my, little one. It seems you only picked up my temper this time. Don't you know that I don't have a gift? Just thousand of years of experience." He smirked down at you as you heard more footsteps approaching. "I've got them." Caius said to whoever had entered. You couldn't move to see who it was. "Wonderful! Well done!" Aro's cheery voice rang out. That was one set of footsteps accounted for. "Let us fix that arm." Marcus bent down to your side and you tried to flail away from him but Caius grip only got tighter.

Marcus took your arm, surprisingly gently before forcefully tugging your arm back. You tried to pull away from him again but couldn't move under Caius' weight. Once again Marcus tugged forcefully downwards on your arm and with a second popping sound, your arm was back in place. "There, that must feel better." You could practically hear Aro's smile. Caius hauled you up. His grip on you still tight. It was Aro, Felix, Demetri, the twins and Chelsea. "Alec?" Aro turned to him with a nod.

In seconds Alec was in front of you and Caius' grip had loosened. Alec pulled you into an embrace, much to your surprise and didn't let go. He continued to hold you to him as with another nod, Chelsea was beside you. She leaned in and began to whisper in your ear. You seemed to catch on what was happening as you gasped and tried to pull away from Alec. However he was stronger, holding you to him very much like he would a hug. Maybe it was. You didn't know. You felt yourself begin to relax into him as Chelsea continued to whisper. You squeezed your eyes shut, a small whimper escaped you as you realised you were losing. They were winning.

She reassured you, making everything seem okay. Reminding you of your bond with Alec, telling you about how they could help you and would love to consider you one of their coven. You could feel your bonds being tampered with, solidifying bonds that hadn't even existed before. Suddenly you felt no bad feelings for the three leaders. Most of all, you wanted, no, needed to stay with Alec. Forever.

In that moment, you knew you had lost. She pulled back. Nodding to Aro before stepping away. Alec leaned back to look at you, his eyes sad yet relieved. As though he was finally sure you were safe. He kissed your lips, then the corner of your mouth and then your cheek before moving back into the original embrace.

#twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #alec volturi #one shot #oneshot

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