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rollinouttahere-writes-misc · 2 months ago

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Mr. Silvair x Reader

4.2k words

Summary: After finding yourself damned to being trapped in a terrifying ghost building, you do your best to adapt to it. The only thing you refuse to adapt to is the local cuisine, but how much longer can you truly avoid that? Reader is not the MC, and this does not take place during the time of the game.

Warnings: gore, violence, forced cannibalism, mind break/loss of self

The otherworld language is depicted bold and crossed out like this.

It’s good to be honest with yourself. There’s nothing to gain from deluding yourself into believing things that aren’t true, which is why you’re quick to admit that you are a coward. It saved you from plenty of situations and kept you from feeling the need to put on any sort of false bravado.

For the most part, this was a flaw that you had come to accept. It wasn’t until recently that you wished you were at least a bit more courageous. If you had only braved out the heavy rain and lightning and kept walking home, you never would have tried to take cover in what you had thought was the lobby of an apartment complex. If you were less of a scaredy cat, you wouldn’t have dashed deeper into the building all because you saw an ominous looking man with an umbrella standing at the end of the hallway you had just walked down.

But you did, and now you’re stuck suffering the consequences of that for the foreseeable future. Possibly for eternity. You were still unclear as to how the rules of this strange dimension worked. Honestly, you weren’t sure if there even were rules. Maybe this place was functioning off of wonderland-type logic where everything goes and nothing is consistent. You didn’t understand, but it would seem that you’re going to have plenty of time to at least try to.

Shortly after finding yourself lost here, you had made a terrifying discovery upon opening a door and finding a severed head dangling from a hook by its hair. You screamed out of shock, only to then scream louder when the head screamed back.

Fortunately for the head, rather than running, you completely froze up. That gave him the chance to start talking. While you couldn’t understand a single thing coming out of his mouth, there was something about the obvious distress on his face that made you feel a pang of sympathy for him despite your abject terror.

Sure, you couldn’t understand whatever strange language he was speaking, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he wanted help. There was a bit of hesitation on your part. Picking up a living severed head was far from appealing… but you couldn’t just leave him hanging there. If you were in a similar situation, you would want someone to help you. So, you unhooked his hair and held his head that was mercifully at least not leaking blood or other bodily fluids.

The period right after rescuing him was extremely confusing. He kept speaking to you like you could understand him, but it really wasn’t helpful. You had no idea what he was trying to convey and just started wandering aimlessly, figuring it was in everyone’s best interest to get away from the room you found the head in before whoever did that could come back.

Eventually, you were at least able to establish what “yes” and “no” sounded like. Trying to turn down some hallways or open certain doors would result in an outburst from the head, who you eventually started referring to as Mr. Chopped, while others elicited a much more positive and encouraging reaction. Where he was leading you was a mystery, but you felt safe in assuming that a defenseless head wouldn’t lead you into danger. If you get incapacitated or worse, he’s going to be completely on his own again.

His reaction when you came upon a staircase with an ominous door at the bottom was particularly enthusiastic. You could only assume that this place was his end goal, though you weren’t sure what would be waiting at the other side of the door. Would you find an empty room that he just so happened to like staying in? A headless body that he would expect you to reattach him to? A friend?

Was he leading you into a trap?

You didn’t know, but you chose to trust him as you slowly made your way down the stairs and towards the door with the creepy flickering light above it. After taking a steadying breath, you forced open the heavy door and stepped inside. Despite the eerie build up, you found the room to look shockingly normal. It was very bare bones, but seeing a relatively clean and furnished room was downright comforting after running around those barren, dilapidated halls for so long.

But then you heard footsteps and looked to the side only to find an absolutely massive man looming over you. Naturally, you screamed at the top of your lungs and tried to bolt back out the door, but he blocked it and grabbed your free arm to keep you in place. You thought for sure that you were about to die, but then Mr. Chopped started excitedly conversing with the man. Yet again, you were left completely in the dark about what was being said. All that you could do was stare at the tall man like a deer in headlights. You didn’t think it was possible for a person to be that tall, but then again, the head in your arms shouldn’t be alive either.

Once the silver haired man, who you dubbed Mr. Silvair, realized that you couldn’t understand their language, he guided you to sit down in what appeared to be a living room and started teaching you what various things were called. While you were absolutely still intimidated, it was hard to feel completely terrified of someone who was taking time out of his day to educate you. If he wanted to hurt you, he most certainly could have already. That, and what was the point of teaching you words if he was just going to kill you after?

While you still felt a little uneasy given the current situation, you felt like you were at least safe in this room and with these people.

… but then you went into his “research room”.

The horror you felt when you saw the contents of the room was indescribable. There was a blood stained operating table, a chair with restraints, a whole litany of tools that could rip you to shreds, and there were even hooks dangling from the ceiling. When the door behind you opened, you were rooted to your spot. That was it, you were sure of it. Mr. Silvair lulled you into a false sense of security just so he could lure you back here and do god know what to you.

Rather than forcing you into the chair like you had assumed, he simply entered the room and started tapping the things in there while slowly enunciating their names. Despite the absence of aggression, you couldn’t help but still be terrified. None of the words he was teaching you were being absorbed. All that your mind could focus on was trying to figure out how to escape with your life.

As soon as he finished telling you the names of the objects in the room, you bowed your head as a show of thanks- because you were NOT about to be rude to someone with a whole ass torture room at his disposal- and promptly excused yourself. You power walked out of the room and through the living area, not even sparing a second to look around for Mr. Chopped. He wanted to come here, so you figure that he’ll be fine. It’s not like he had much to him to torture anyway.

You were taking the steps two at a time when the main door opened behind you. Once again, your life flashed before your eyes and you were positive that this time he was actually going to kill you. You should have ran, but you froze just like you always do. All you could do was slowly look over your shoulder at Mr. Silvair’s figure. Much to your surprise, he was remaining by the door and was empty-handed. Rather than lunging at you, he simply waved and said a word that you guessed may have meant “goodbye”. You echoed the word back to him with a trembling voice, then promptly hurried up the stairs before he could change his mind and drag you back down.

However, your freedom from that room would be extremely short lived. Not even five minutes later, you found yourself walking down a dimly lit hall when you saw something at the end of it. You weren’t sure what you were looking at at first, thinking that maybe it was a pile of fabric or something. But then it moved. You froze again as the creature inched towards you until it was properly illuminated.

It was a man with long, dark hair that covered his face, and he was crawling at you on all fours. He raised his head slightly as if he had just noticed you, which made you flinch. Then a wide grin split across his face and he let out a high pitched giggle before crawling towards you faster.

Naturally, seeing an ominous looking man speed-crawling at you was absolutely terrifying, so you sprinted away from him screaming and crying and ran all the way back to where you had just come from. You didn’t exactly trust Mr. Silvair, but at least he didn’t crawl at you like some sort of sleep paralysis demon.

When you burst back into the room that you’re assuming to be his home, borderline hysteric, you weren’t sure what you were expecting to happen. He had every right to be annoyed by your presence and throw your sorry ass out, or worse. Much to your surprise, neither Mr. Silvair nor Mr. Chopped appeared to be upset by your intrusion. If the quiet chuckles coming from Silvair were anything to go off of, they were amused by your terror more than anything.

Most shocking of all, they let you stay. Even now, after all this time, you couldn’t believe they let you in so easily, but they did. Sure, there were some strings attached, but it felt more than worth it to have the protection and safety of having someone like Mr. Silvair around. You learned quickly that the other residents of this strange world did their best to not get on his bad side. Or intrigue him too much and end up in his research room. Ignoring the screams was difficult at times… but better them than you. All that he ever asked for from you were blood draws and periodic examinations, both things that you could live with providing.

The main way that you earned your keep around here was by helping Mr. Chopped. Mostly by taking him wherever he wanted to go; which became much easier thanks to Mr. Silvair teaching you the words for directions. It was scary at first, venturing out into the unknown with nothing but your own wit to protect you, but you forced yourself to power through it lest you risk being deemed no longer useful and thrown out on your own.

As nerve wracking as your excursions were, they weren’t all bad. As you slowly met more and more of the residents down here, you learned that not all of them were bad. The hairdresser was one of the people you saw the most often since Mr. Chopped was very particular about his hair. While you wouldn’t exactly consider her a friend, you weren’t scared of her either. Unlike most of the stylists you’ve met before this, she really wasn’t much for conversation, but at least she wasn’t hostile.

And then there was the extremely unlikely friend you made in the form of Mr. Crawling, the man that had sent you running the first time you saw him. In hindsight, your reaction to him felt ridiculous. While he was scary to look at, you came to realize that he was possibly the nicest person here. You didn’t always see him when you went out with Mr. Chopped, but when you did encounter him, he would take the time to accompany you two to wherever you were going and keep the less than friendly residents away from you. He was easily the person you were closest to next to the ones you lived with.

All of that brought you to where you are today. You don’t know how long you’ve been down here- the concept of time didn’t even seem to be a thing in this place- but if you had to make a guess, you would think it’s been around three months. A lot has happened in these “months”. You’ve learned quite a bit of the mercifully simplistic language, established positive relationships with some of the spirits here, and… you’ve changed. Physically.

When your skin tone became ashy, you thought it was an issue with the piss poor lighting in this damned building or the effects of a vitamin D deficiency. But even when there was genuinely decent light, your skin color was completely off to a very unnatural extent. Your hair went through a similar transformation. Like with your skin, you didn’t think much of it at first. Given the stress you’re under, it wasn’t weird that you were getting gray hairs. But it changed so quickly that you doubted it was just the stress getting to you.

Then you found that you could reach things that you previously couldn’t. When you mentioned this oddity to Mr. Silvair, he very nonchalantly confirmed that you had grown taller, saying it as if this was completely normal and like he was surprised that you hadn’t already noticed it. It was impossible to ignore by that point. Your body was changing. You were evolving into a new form, one similar to that of the other people here.

That, and you didn’t miss the fact that everyone here had stopped referring to you with the word human. Now they just call you you.

You weren’t happy with this development by any means. You didn’t want to be trapped here forever. You had been holding out hope from day one that you would stumble upon an exit while walking around with Mr. Chopped, but you never did. And now you don’t think you ever will. This was your existence now, and you were trying to force yourself to accept it. But there was one thing you refused to adapt to.

The food.

Much to your horror, the only thing the people here ate was flesh. Human flesh, ideally. Though you have also witnessed residents attacking and cannibalizing each other at times. There weren’t any grocery stores down here, and you haven’t really had any luck scavenging for normal food. The most that you’ve found up to this point has been the rare piece of hard candy, though they always tasted gross and stale.

Mr. Silvair has offered you flesh before. After he was done experimenting on his latest victim, he would carve up whatever was left of them and divy up the meat between himself and Mr. Chopped. He also tried to give some to you, but you’ve always refused his offers, though they were getting more and more insistent as time went on. You could tell that he was starting to get annoyed with your stubbornness, and you couldn’t blame him. You weren’t oblivious to the state you were in.

Yet another unclear aspect to this world- or more specifically, its residents- was how the need for sustenance worked. Even in the early days, you noticed how your body reacted to not getting food. Or, more accurately, the lack of a reaction. There was an underlying feeling of hunger there, but it felt much more muted than you know it should be. You should be starving. The gnawing hunger pains should be ripping you apart, but there was none of that. The most prominent symptom of your unintentional hunger strike was exhaustion. You were lethargic more than anything, and it was getting harder and harder to cope with it, but you refused to cave. This was a line that you weren’t willing to cross. This was your last remaining bastion of humanity, and you couldn’t live with losing it.

Just today, you had to go chasing after Mr. Chopped thanks to that damned kid running off with him again. You understood that they were a child and likely have suffered a lot just by being here, but in your current state, you genuinely couldn’t tolerate their bullshit anymore. You were in a perpetual state of being hangry, and you don’t think it’s going to be much longer before you snap and dropkick that little shit down a flight of stairs. But, lucky for them, they disappeared before you could make today the day.

By the time you trekked back home, you were dead on your feet. You all but collapsed onto the couch and curled up on it with Mr. Chopped nestled between you and the back of the couch in hopes that it would make it harder for that kid to run off with him again. Mr. Chopped asked repeatedly if you were okay, but you were too out of it to give him anything more than one word responses, and you fell asleep not long after laying down.

There was no way of knowing how long you were asleep for. When you awoke, it was to the sensation of something cold on your neck. You pry your eyes open blearily and look over your shoulder to see Mr. Silvair looming over you. Your eyes follow his arm and you realize that the coldness is coming from his fingers on your pulsepoint. You dropped your head back down and relaxed again. He was just doing his usual examination of you. The transformation you were going through seemed to greatly interest him, and he’d begun doing this more often as a result. You don’t mind. You’re just glad that he’s letting you stay on the couch rather than making you get up and go into his research room.

Just as you’re about to fall back to sleep, he speaks quietly, “you not healthy.”

Ah. This conversation again. You sigh softly and keep your eyes closed, “sorry.” The word is hushed and croaked out. Even the simple act of speaking felt like a herculean task.

Mr. Silvair sighs as well, then pulls his hand away and stands up, “rest.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Within seconds, you had slipped back into a peaceful slumber. The next time that you woke, it was again from a feeling of discomfort. You were no longer on the soft, albeit lumpy, couch, and you could feel something cold on both your wrists. You groan quietly as you open your eyes and look down to assess what’s going on. It takes a few moments for your foggy mind to process what it’s looking at, but when it does…

What you see makes your blood run cold.

You’re shackled to a chair. Not just any chair. This is the one in the research room.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, making you more alert than you have been in a long time. Your head snaps up and you look around, confirming your worst fears. You’re in Mr. Silvair’s research room, and this time it definitely wasn’t for a simple exam. Tears sting at your eyes as the implications of your situation hit you all at once. It finally happened. He’s grown sick of you, and now he’s going to get out of you whatever is left that he wants. And then he’ll kill you.

The door opens, forcing you to whip your head around to see who came in. It was exactly who you thought it would be. Mr. Silvair enters, his head not even turning to face you. He stops in front of you and sets a bucket that you hadn’t even noticed he was carrying until now onto the table.

Panic fills your mind as you scramble to find the right words to convince him not to do this, “please research not me!”

Mr. Silvair regards you for a moment, then smiles at you. It brings you no comfort, of course, and you flinch when he reaches out and pats your head. He speaks in a calm voice, “not research. not now.”

You stare at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. You didn’t understand what he was getting at. If he wasn’t going to experiment on you, then why were you restrained? You didn’t understand. You thought… You thought that everything was okay. That you were all friends. And now he’s turning on you like this out of nowhere?!

He firmly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him as he kneels down to be closer to eye level with you. He speaks slowly, seemingly wanting to make sure that you understand every word, “you not eat, you die.”

No… He wouldn’t…

“we not want you dead.” Mr. Silvair stands up and reaches into the bucket. “me take care you.” You can hear his hand close around something wet and malleable, then he pulls it out. A small portion of human flesh is in his hand. Organ meat from the looks of it.

All rationality leaves your mind in an instant. Your frantic mind can’t even begin to try and translate your thoughts into words that Silvair would understand. A flurry of words spews out, “Wait, wait, wait! You don’t have to do this! Please don’t do this! You can’t do this to me! I’m begging you!”

The words are unintelligible to him and obviously have no effect. Rather than engaging with you, he brings the “food” to your mouth. That shuts you up. You clamp your mouth shut, clenching your teeth and pressing your lips together as hard as you can. Wet, viscous flesh rubs against your lips as Silvair attempts to force you to consume it. You hold your breath in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from gagging, which you’re certain you will if you smell it.

After a few more seconds, Mr. Silvair pulls his hand away with a huff. The meat is tossed back into the bucket as he returns to his full height and goes over to his medicine cabinet. You couldn’t be bothered to pay much mind to what he was doing. Instead, you frantically wiped your mouth off on your shoulder, desperate to not let even a drop of blood find its way onto your tongue.

A sob rips out of your throat as the betrayal stabs you through the heart. You never thought that Mr. Silvair would try to force this on you. You thought that he respected you enough to not make you do something that you don’t want to do, but apparently you’re a poor judge of character on top of being a coward. You try in vain to pull your arms and legs free from their restraints, but they hold strong.

Mr. Silvair comes back to you, this time holding a syringe. His free hand grabs your face and presses it back against the chair, effectively holding you in place. You tried to squirm free, but he was far stronger than you. You can’t even plead with him to stop because his hand is over your mouth and muffling your words. One of your eyes can still see what’s going on through his fingers, but all you can do is watch helplessly as the needle is pressed into your neck and you’re injected with whatever was inside.

The drug is fast acting, and you find your muscles growing limp within seconds. Your mind remains sharp despite this, so you’re guessing that he injected you with some sort of muscle relaxer to keep you from fighting him. You try to force yourself to move, but your muscles aren’t responding the way you want them to. While you aren’t completely paralyzed, your limbs feel impossibly heavy. It takes everything you have just to curl your fingers.

A pathetic whimper leaves your throat as Mr. Silvair repositions his hand to be cradling your jaw. With a light squeeze, he forces your mouth open. All you can do is stare as he grabs the piece of previously refused meat again and brings it to your lips. You want to clamp your mouth shut. You want to stop this more than anything, but you can’t.

As the flesh passes the threshold of your mouth, the first thing that strikes you is how cold it is. You had assumed that it would be warm, but you suppose that any natural body heat it had once possessed had long since dissipated. Cooled, partially coagulated blood flows into your mouth, coating your tongue and running down your throat.

You should be retching and gagging. This should be the single most revolting experience of your life. But… But…

It tastes so good. It’s delectable. This raw, cold slab of organ meat tastes better than any fine dining dish or lovingly crafted home cooked meal could ever hope to. It’s so good. You want more. You need more.

more more more more mORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE-

Mr. Silvair begins to withdraw his hand as he sees you eagerly swallow the food, but the movement catches your attention. Before you can even think, you lunge forward, biting down onto his hand and easily severing multiple fingers.

delicious

#homicipher #homicipher x reader #mr silvair #mr. silvair #mr chopped #mr. chopped #mr crawling #mr. crawling #mr silvair x reader #mr chopped x reader #mr crawling x reader #reader insert #x reader

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vilapollo-arts · 5 months ago

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dressing up for the enemy

pairing: Sylus x gn!reader

tags: mdni, overstimulation, facefuck, blowjob, consensual nonconsent (mc uses the word "no" and begs him to stop during sex but not their safeword), aftercare, possessive Sylus, (slightly) drunk sex, Sylus uses his Evol during sex, not edited

a/n: you can find the full censored version of the illustration on my twitter @/vilapollo_arts!! Please consider following the account. I'll be releasing uncensored versions of Xavier's and Sylus' NSFW artworks once I reach my goal of 100 followers! And with that, I hope you guys enjoy this fic!!

It takes a lot of patience on Sylus’ part before you even start to get under his nerves. Most of the time, when you do, he bends you over any surface near the both of you and fucks you into oblivion. It mostly happens when the both of you are alone. However, this time, you decide to test the limits.

Sylus was invited to a private party which he asked you to come. Of course, he didn’t invite you just to be a beautiful display by his side. You have a target in that guest list and you need them to acquire some information. It’s as simple as that, so you decide that this is also the perfect time for you to also play around. Of course, Sylus only knows the first part of your plans tonight. You needed his connections for that.

You decide to buy a new outfit for this particular party. It’s not often that you splurge on clothing, but then again, Sylus pays for it anyway. You can blend in with the other party goers and definitely attract two of your targets–the person you need your information from and Sylus himself. The best part is that the type of clothing you bought will definitely rile Sylus up, knowing that you have you other ways to extract information from other people.

You tell Sylus that you’re coming from Linkon straight to the party, telling him that it’s best if the two of you arrive separately so that you won’t scare your target off. You want to surprise the man when he sees the outfit you bought yourself for this party. Sylus instead sends a car over to your place to pick you up and send you to the place of the event.

You decide not to bring your weapons with you. After all, you have Sylus to back you up. If you get into trouble, you trust that that man will not let you be harmed.

You arrive at the hotel where the party will be held. You inform the front desk what you were there for. Showing her your copy of the invitation. The lady nods as you and calls for a bodyguard, someone that doesn’t seem to have the same uniform as the usual guards patrolling the hotel. The man escorts you to where the party will be held, which is at the hotel’s sky deck.

Sylus meets you right at the entrance, taking you from the bodyguard’s hands. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say it all. You directly meet his eyes as he brings you to an area with less people.

He leans over towards you. “You really outdid yourself with the…preparations you need for today,” he says.

You tilt your head to the side and smile. “Of course,” you reply as you spin around to show him the back. “Business at the front, part at the back. Like it?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

Sylus chuckles. “You know I prefer it when you don’t have anything at all,” he says, tracing his fingertips on your back. “Perhaps, after your mission, I can take you in my room and help you wash the blood off of you?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fully face him. “Don’t worry about that. No blood will be shed tonight,” you say. “At least, not by me,” you continue in your head.

“That’s a little disappointing, but I guess that’s one less problem to worry about,” he replies. “I’ll leave you to go do your thing now then. I do have other matters to take care off as well.” He almost leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, but one of the guests suddenly comes over. He takes a step back and gently picks up your hand. “It was nice meeting you, sweetie.” He winks as he presses a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “It was nice meeting you too,” you reply.

Sylus’ hand lingers before he finally lets go of you and walks away. Once he blends in with the other guests, you put your mask on and walk towards the crowd as well. You look around among the mingling crowd and spot him at the bar, talking to someone. You decide to saunter over to the bar. As soon as you take your seat right beside them, you feel the two men eye you up and down. Well, if your clothes were enough to rile up the leader of the Onychinus, of course it will also catch the attention of other people.

Your plan is to make him come to you first, which is not really a hard task considering he shooed away the person he was talking to and turns to you.

“Good evening,” he greets, inching his seat closer towards you.

You smile back. “Good evening,” you say sweetly.

“Henry,” he introduces himself and offers his hand for a handshake.

You shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” he asks.

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink first?” you ask, reaching your hand out and pressing your hand on his knee.

He smirks, amused. “One drink for them please. Put it on my tab,” he tells the bartender. He turned towards you with a wink. “Well, there you go. Aren’t you going to tell me your name now?”

You smile as you take the drink from the bartender. You take a sip and nod in satisfaction. You turn back to him and introduce your fake name.

“Are you here with someone? I doubt someone as eye-catching as you would come here all alone,” he says.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you reply, leaning forward closer to him. “No one will come and suddenly drag me out of here in a body bag, won’t they?”

From the corner of your eyes, you can see a familiar figure standing a few feet away, staring at the two of you menacingly.

Sylus’ fingers twitches. Without even using his Evol, his piercing gaze alone is enough to probably kill the man. Still, he wouldn’t want to get in the way of your mission. Perhaps once you’re done with him, he’ll send over the twins to take care of him. He’s not usually a jealous man, but he sees the way this man is putting his arm around your waist currently. It doesn’t help that he sees you glance over your shoulder and meet your gaze as if challenging him.

He huffs out a laugh, pressing his tongue against the inside of his right cheek. He downs the whiskey in his hand and places it down on the table before forcing himself to look away.

Throughout the party, you're glued right beside that man. Sylus, on the other hand, tries to ignore you. And it frustrates you because it seems like he doesn't really care that another man is parading you around as if they own you. Despite being disappointed and mad that Sylus isn't giving any attention towards you tonight, you still focus on feeding Henry’s ego so he would eventually spill the information you need from him. And you get to deal with Sylus right after. Or maybe, you will have to pour your frustrations on this man before going back to Sylus.

Unbeknownst to you, Sylus has actually been keeping an eye on you. Even though he’s trying to do his own thing, he still makes sure that you don't leave his periphery for more than 2 seconds. And he’s getting quite concerned with how quickly you're downing your drinks. You still remain the same composure as you had before but Sylus can see how you're starting to slow your movements and even letting the man get more and more handsy towards you. All of that, he’s able to hold himself back. All he could think about is breaking the man’s fingers and skinning his arms so he gets to be reminded to not touch what isn’t his next time. However, he composed himself.

What his breaking point is when the two of you start to leave the area with you pulling him back into the hotel. He rises to his seat and contacts Kieran and Luke to ask for information about the man’s room. Not a minute later and he receives the information that he needs. He knows that you can still handle yourself, considering how you seem to be the one pulling the man behind you. However, it still took a lot of him to not to immediately follow the two of you.

He leaves the party and follows the two of you after five more minutes and heads to the room that the twins have told him.

He arrives at the guest’s suite. He uses his Evol to unlock the door and lets himself in. There's no one to greet him at the door or the living area. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears because that means the two of you are in the bedroom. A part of him knows that you can handle yourself, but at the same time, he knows that with your current state, you’re still you may still be taken advantage of.

He immediately heads towards the bedroom, slamming the door open.

As soon as he opens the door, he’s greeted by your figure straddling your unconscious target on the bed. You jump at the sound of the door opening, so you immediately lift your gun to the direction of the door, directly at Sylus.

Sylus is unfazed by the gun. He leans against the wall and throws a smirk your way. “If that man wasn't already unconscious, I would've sucked the light out of his eyes and I would’ve deeply enjoyed watching him go limp,” he says.

You lower your gun as soon as you hear his voice. You throw your legs over the body underneath you and hop off of the bed.

“You got what you needed, kitten?” Sylus asks, watching you sway as you walk towards him.

He slowly snakes his arm around your waist and lets you lean against him for support. “No,” you sigh.

Sylus furrows his brows. “What? Was he not the one holding the information you needed?” he asks, brushing away stray hair from your face. You don’t respond right away, so Sylus speaks again, “That’s alright, sweetie. Let me take you upstairs to my room first. You need your rest first.”

“No,” you protest, struggling to look up at him. Your face breaks into a smile in that same second. “What I mean is,” you wrap the end of his tie around your hand and pull him down towards your face, “you.” You then glare at him. “You weren’t paying attention to me all night. You don’t like my outfit?” you ask.

Sylus raises his eyebrow. “For a trained Hunter, I’m kind of worried that you haven’t noticed my attention being on you all night, sweetie,” he says, tightening his hold on you. He looks back at the unconscious man on the bed. “You didn’t notice how much I want to snatch you away from that man and show who actually owns you, kitten?”

You swallow. You don’t know what he actually means by that. However, all you mind could think of is the most unholy things Sylus could have done to you at the party, right in front of everyone. Your legs, which are already feeling like wet noodles, now feel much weaker. If Sylus’ arm isn’t currently around you, you would’ve already collapsed on the floor.

Sylus seems to notice this. Suddenly, he sweeps your legs over the floor, carrying you bridal style. The corner of his lips curve upwards. You yelp and immediately wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s get you out of here. I’ll let the twins take care of the garbage.”

As he brings you to his own suite, you can’t help but start to feel the insides of your thighs become moist. Your whole body is heating up. The way he’s carrying you as if you weigh nothing at all definitely doesn’t help the thoughts entering your mind.

The elevator is empty when the two of you enter. “Here, let me put you down first,” he says before gently letting you stand on your own two feet. He pulls out his room card and presses it up against the sensor to activate the elevator before pressing a button. As soon as the doors close, Sylus suddenly turns to you and picks you up under your thighs before pinning you against the elevator’s wall.

“Sylus!” you gasp as his hands start roaming on your skin. His touches are rough and possessive, squeezing your arms, waist, and thighs. He buries his face on your neck, his tongue tracing the path from your jaw to your collarbone. He bites down on the area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your whole body shudders.

“You riled me up all night, kitten,” he whispers, voice heavy with lust and possessiveness. “I can’t help but think that you definitely did it on purpose.”

You throw your head back against the wall as Sylus’ fingers travel up your chest and start playing with your nipples, flicking and squeezing them through the fabric of your clothes. The world around you is blurry. All you can feel are his tongue and hands on your skin. You don’t even realize yourself wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding against the tent forming on his pants. You can feel his thickness from just rubbing yourself against him. And all you could think of is him manhandling you as he’s fucking you.

“Please, Sylus,” you whimper, your fingers running through his well-kept hair and gripping them in between your fingers.

Suddenly, Sylus pulls away from you with a smirk on his face. “We’re almost at our floor,” he says. He puts you down and fixes your clothes for you.

The elevator dings and the doors open. He ignores the pleading expression on your face and sweeps you off of the floor once again and into his arms. He walks towards the only set of double doors on this floor. Inside was a luxurious suite, much bigger than the suite you came from. However, you can’t really focus on the grandness of it right now considering that you’re drunk and really, really, really horny.

You swallow as Sylus brings you to what you guess is the bedroom.

“Stop squirming,” Sylus tells you, looking down at you with an amused expression plastered on his face. You can’t help but think that this man has some kind of trick up his sleeve.

As you enter the room, Sylus puts you down on the king-sized bed. He loosens his tie and takes off his suit. You can’t help but bite your lower lip as you watch the muscles on his body move. He hovers over you, planting his hand against the headboard and the other right beside your head. He holds your eyes with his intense gaze. His eyes travel down your body, stopping at your squirming thighs.

He looks back to your eyes and smirks. “I know you, kitten,” he whispers. His breath has a hint of alcohol in it. It feels like he must’ve drank a little more than usual tonight as well. “You don't usually have the need to use that pretty face of yours on your missions. You're smarter than that. Usually, you only use all of this,” he lifts his hand from your side and traces his fingers on your cheeks down to your lips, “when you need something from….me.”

His thumb traces your lower lips. You take his finger between your lips and sucks it lightly, keeping eye contact with him. “And what if I did?” you ask. “What are you going to do about it now that another man has laid their hands on me?”

Sylus’ jaw tenses. He lets out a deep breath with a chuckle. “I already have that man dealt with. The only thing I only have to deal with is you.” He takes his thumb out of your mouth and lightly slap your cheek but still hard enough for you to feel the sting.

He stands back and pulls the chair near the window closer beside the bed. He sits down, legs spread and gestures for you to come to him. “Get up and show me who you’re actually supposed to worship.”

Without waiting for a second, you stand up and are about to approach him but then, a black smoke comes out of nowhere. Before you realize that it's actually his Evol, the smoke pushes you down on your hands and knees.

Your palms and knees sting from the impact, but the pain is actually welcome. If anything, it only adds to the arousal already present between your legs. You crawl towards him, looking up at him through your lashes. When you reach him, you try to lift your hand but the black smoke keeps your palms planted on the ground.

“Keep your hands and knees where they belong,” he says, looking down at you.

You obey. You lean forward and use your lips and teeth to unbutton and unzip his task, which isn't an easy feat. You keep eye contact with him as you take the hem of his underwear between your teeth and pull it down slowly.

“Oh, fuck,” Sylus curses.

Sylus’cock springs out of his underwear, slapping against your cheek. The tip is already glistening with his own precum.

He chuckles. “I can't get over how my cock is as big as your face.” He holds his cock against your face, rubbing it against you. “Now, take it down your throat like a good little kitten.”

He helps you line his cock to your lips and you immediately take his head in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip and you moan as soon as you get a sweet taste of his arousal. It’s just his precum and yet it’s already so thick. You can't help but wonder how much he is going to make you swallow. Inch by inch, you take him in your mouth.

Sylus above you watches as his shaft disappears into your mouth. He places his hand behind your head and guides your head forward, pushing his cock further in your throat. He grits his teeth, stopping himself from shoving his cock down your throat. He knows that's what you also want, but he first needs your spit all over his cock so he can fuck your mouth mercilessly without stopping.

You look up at Sylus and his head is leaned back against the wall. The tip of your nose soon touches his stomach. You can feel your throat being spread wide open by his girth. On the other hand, Sylus bites down a string of curses as he feels your throat tighten around his shaft.

He loosens his grip on the back of your head and you pull back, leaving only the head of his cock inside before swallowing it whole once again. You start bobbing your head along his shaft. Without the help of your hand, you do your best to make sure that you swallow the entirety of his cock every time while meeting Sylus’ eyes at the same time.

And Sylus loves it. He loves the way your cheeks become hollow as you suck on his cock. He loves the way you gag occasionally when you accidentally hit the back of your throat with his cock. He loves the heavy breaths you're taking through your nose. Most importantly, he loves how you're shaking your ass in the air as if imagining that he’s fucking you from behind.

Oh, he will give you just that, but for now, he has to fuck your face first.

He grabs the sides of your head with both hands, stopping your movements. And without any warning, he starts fucking your face.

Sylus watches as your eyes roll back as you take his cock in your mouth. Spit starts to bubble at the corners of your lips as he pumps his cock into you.

Sylus’ Evol disappears around your wrist but you don't move. You know that he removed them so you could tap him whenever you needed to breathe or if he became a little too rough.

But you know you can still take it.

Your face is immediately a mess. Your own drool slips down your chin and down your neck. Sylus starts to move your head to meet his thrusts. You ball your hands into fists when Sylus fully buries his cock in your mouth and keeps your face pressed against his stomach.

He doesn't move, keeping your head down. Your eyes start to roll and you attempt to pull your head back but his hands won't budge.

“You know what you should do, kitten,” he says, voice raspy. Even he is out of breath.

You let him hold you like that for a few more seconds before you began frantically tapping his thighs. Sylus immediately lets you go.

You pull your head back, gasping for air. Your tears start to roll down your cheeks, mixing in with the mess of your saliva.

Sylus cups your entire jaw with one hand. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he mumbles before slapping your cheek. His eyes travel down to your thighs and he smirks. “You like that don't you? You like choking on my cock, kitten?” he asks.

You bite your lower lip as you smile up at him, either alcohol drunk or cock drunk, maybe both. “Uh-huh,” you reply.

“Such a good kitten. Open your mouth for me.” You obey, opening your mouth with your tongue out. Sylus spits into your mouth and you happily swallow it down.

He then wraps his hand around your neck. “Stand up,” he orders. He tightens his fingers on the sides of your neck as you stand up. He pushes you backwards, towards the bed. And when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Sylus throws you down.

He climbs on top of you, He takes the fabric of your clothes in his hands and rips it apart. He chuckles at the gasp that you let out. He wraps both of your legs around his waist before pinning both of your hands on your sides.

Sylus keeps his eye contact with you as he slowly moves his hips forward, lining his cock to your hole. His cock easily penetrates your entrance. Your jaw drops as your back arches. You close your eyes, sighing as Sylus' cock pushes against your insides.

But then, Sylus pulls out and buries his cock inside of you in one thrust, pushing a scream out of your throat.

“Keep your eyes on me, kitten,” he demands, pressing his whole body forward, folding your whole body in half, pushing his cock deeper into you.

You cry out and immediately open your eyes, meeting Sylus’ dark gaze. “I’m sorry,” you whimper.

He smirks. “I forgive you for that, kitten. However, you still have something to be sorry for.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confusion painting your face. “H-Huh?”

“I know that you set this night up on purpose. Aside from that mission of yours, you also took this opportunity to make me jealous, didn’t you?” He lets go of your other hand and wraps his fingers around your neck once again. He squeezes, harder than his grip earlier. “Didn’t you?” he repeats.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak. “I did.”

“Wearing that gorgeous outfit, purposefully catching the attention of each and every person in the room. You really took a huge risk just to rile me up, huh?” He laughs. “Such a naughty little kitten.” You see the glint in his eyes before your vision is suddenly covered by the black smoke of his Evol. With your vision clouded, you flinch when you suddenly feel Sylus’ breath against your ear. ““Perhaps I should give you a reward for going such lengths just to get on my nerves. Don’t expect me to hold back though, kitten. I’m gonna fuck you the way you want so fucking good that it’s going to feel like a punishment. Cry all you want, let the whole hotel hear that sweet voice of yours, but I’m not gonna stop until that slutty little hole of yours takes the shape of my cock.”

His deep voice feels like it’s caressing your entire body, leaving goosebumps on your body.

“You know your safe words, right?”

You nod.

“I need you to speak up, kitten.”

“Yes, Sir,” you say out loud. “My safe word is crow.”

“Good kitten.” You feel his soft lips against your forehead.

And when his lips pull away, he immediately starts pounding into you.

He isn’t holding back, staying true to his promise, giving you exactly what you want. His thrusts are hard and rough and his hands on your neck, tightening around you. Your head starts to become woozy. Your body feels light and the only feeling you can focus on right now is the way his cock is drilling into your tight hole. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, not that it matters because he has your vision blocked as well.

Your screams do nothing but fuel Sylus’ thrusts. His eyes remain on your face, which has the messiest and most beautiful expression right now, making his cock harder than it already is inside you. He feels like he’s about to burst. As much as he wants to fill your stomach up with his thick cum, he still has to break you.

As his cock keeps on hitting that sensitive spot inside of you, it doesn’t take long for you to reach your first orgasm. Your back arches, pressing up against Sylus’ torso. Sylus grunts above you as he feels your walls suddenly grip onto his cock. However, this doesn’t faze him at all. Despite being in the middle of an orgasm, Sylus keeps on fucking into you. He does remove his hand from your neck though, letting you cry out loud. He moves his hand on one of your legs and brings it from his waist to his shoulder.

He leans over, using his free arm as a support and fucks you deeper. That immediately brings you to your second orgasm.

“Sylus!” you cry out. “It’s too much! Please stop! Oh god! Oh fuck!!”

He slows down a bit, swallowing your screams with a deep kiss. His tongue dominates yours, swirling it around and sucking on your lower lip. “You know your safe word, love. Would you like to use it?” he asks, voice a bit gentler.

You purse your lips and shake your head. “Please keep on fucking me,” you plead. “I want your cock, Sir. Please let me have your cum inside me!”

“That’s right, kitten. I don’t want you to stop begging, you hear me?”

Without waiting for you to answer, he fucks you as rough as he was fucking you earlier. The slapping of skin to skin blends in with your cries. Your whole body feels so sensitive, each pleasure that his cock is sending throughout your body feels like it’s tripled. You don’t know where your hands are going anymore. You’re reaching for any type of anchor you can hold onto.

“I’m gonna cum again!” you cry out. “Sylus, please, it’s too much!!”

“Hold it in,” Sylus orders.

“No, I can’t!” you cry out. “Please…! I can’t cum anymore!”

“Hold it for me or I’ll let you keep coming for the rest of the night,” Sylus warns through gritted teeth.

You bite down on your lips, pulling on the sheets, trying to focus on everything else but the pleasure building up in your nerves. You do your best to relax your entire body, but Sylus starts to suck and bite on your neck. His fingernails are digging into your hips as he grips them in place while he slams his own hips against you.

“Fuck,” he growls. “I’m close. You better fucking come with me, sweetie.”

Your body automatically responds on its own, immediately tensing up as you feel your orgasm start to build up once again. He lets go of your hips before reaching for your head, slipping his hand underneath, and gripping your hair. He presses a deep kiss against your lips. His thrusts begin to stutter before he fully buries himself deep inside you. Your whole body twitches as you come again for the third time, the sensation elevated because of the feeling of Sylus’ cum inside of you.

Sylus pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You breathe each others’ air as the two of you come down from your high. He lets go of your hair and begins to caress your cheek. He straightens himself and slowly pulls out. He sucks in a breath as he watches his own cum ooze out of your hole. He forces himself to snap out of it and get off of the bed to head towards the bathroom.

You whine at the loss of his warmth.

A few seconds later, you can feel his presence once again. You feel a warm damp towel being pressed up against your hole. You realize that Sylus is cleaning you up, wiping your crotch area, stomach, and thighs. You then feel his arms underneath you and he fixes your position on the bed. He disappears once again and comes back with a new clean towel. He wipes your entire body this time. He cleans the makeup off of your face as well. The whole time, you’re in and out of your consciousness.

Sylus disappears one last time. When he comes back, he lays down beside you. He’s entirely naked this time, but smells like soap. He must have taken a quick bath. He gathers your limp form in his arms, basking you in his warmth once again. You feel his fingers caressing your back. You snuggle up against him and he lets you. The last thing you remember that night is the soft humming of your voice and the soft kiss he presses on your forehead.

“You belong only to me, kitten. Remember that.”

#love and deepspace x mc #love and deepspace x you #sylus x you #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads smut #lads fanart #lads fanfic #sylus #digital art

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wisteria-lodge · 6 months ago

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Manipulative/Morally Grey Dumbledore? An In-Depth Canon Analysis

So when I look at Harry Potter, my goal is to separate what I think the books are intending to say, from what they actually say, from what the movies say… and what the common fan interpretation is. So today I’m interested in Dumbledore, and specifically in the common headcanon of Manipulative/Morally Gray Dumbledore. Is that (intentionally or unintentionally) supported by the text?

PART I: Omniscient Dumbledore

“I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here”

In Book 1, yes Dumbledore honestly does seem to know everything. He 100% arranged for Harry to find the Mirror of Erised, publicly left Hogwarts in order to nudge Quirrell into going after the Stone, and knew what Quirrell was doing the whole time. It is absolutely not a stretch, and kind of heavily implied, that the reason the Stone’s protections feel like a little-end-of-the-year exam designed to put Harry through his paces… is because they are. As the series goes on this interpretation only gets more plausible, when we see the kind of protections people can put up when they don’t want anyone getting through.

Book 1 Dumbledore knows everything… but what he’s actually going to do about it is anyone’s guess. One of the first things we learn is that some of Dumbledore’s calls can be… questionable. McGonagall questions his choice to leave Harry with the Dursleys, Hermione questions his choice to give Harry the Cloak and let him go after the Stone, Percy and Ron both matter-of-factly call him “mad.” The “nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak” speech is a joke where Dumbledore says he’s going to say a few words, then literally does say a few (weird) words. I know there are theories that those particular words are supposed to be insulting the four houses, or referencing the Hogwarts house stereotypes, or that they’re some kind of warning. But within the text, this is pure Lewis Carroll British Nonsense Verse stuff (and people came up with answers to the impossible Alice in Wonderland “why is a raven like a writing desk” riddle too.)

This characterization also explains a lot of Dumbledore’s decisions about how to run a school, locked in during Book 1. Presumably Binns, Peeves, Filch, Snape are all there because Dumbledore finds them funny, atmospheric, and/or character building. He's just kind of a weird guy. He absolutely knew that Lockhart was a fraud in Book 2 (with that whole “Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy?” thing after Lockhart oblivates himself. ) So maybe he is also there to be funny/atmospheric/character building, or to teach Harry a lesson about fame, or because Dumbledore is using the cursed position to bump off people he doesn’t like. Who knows.

(I actually don’t think JKR had locked in “the DADA position is literally cursed by Voldemort” until Book 6. )

Dumbledore absolutely knows that Harry is listening in when Lucius Malfoy comes to take Hagrid to Azkaban, and it’s fun to speculate that maybe he let himself get fired in Book 2 as part of a larger plan to boot Lucius off the Board of Governors. So far, that’s the sort of thing he’d do. But in Books 3 and 4, we are confronted with a number of important things that Dumbledore just missed. He doesn’t know any of the Marauders were animagi, he doesn’t know what really happened with the Potter’s Secret Keeper, doesn’t know Moody is Crouch, and doesn’t know the Marauders Map even exists. But in Books 5 and 6, his omniscience does seem to come back online. (In a flashback, Voldemort even comments that he is "omniscient as ever” when Dumbledore lists the specific Death Eaters he has in Hogsmeade as backup.) Dumbledore knows exactly what Draco and Voldemort are planning, and his word is taken as objective truth by the entire Order of the Phoenix - who apparently only tolerate Snape because Dumbledore vouches for him:

“Snape,” repeated McGonagall faintly, falling into the chair. “We all wondered . . . but he trusted . . . always . . . Snape . . . I can’t believe it. . . .” “Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens,” said Lupin, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. “We always knew that.” “But Dumbledore swore he was on our side!” whispered Tonks. “I always thought Dumbledore must know something about Snape that we didn’t. . . .” “He always hinted that he had an ironclad reason for trusting Snape,” muttered Professor McGonagall (...) “Wouldn’t hear a word against him!”

McGonagall questions Dumbledore about the Dursleys, but not about Snape. I see this as part of the larger trend of basically Dumbledore’s deification. In the beginning of the series, he’s treated as a clever, weird dude. By the end, he’s treated like a god.

PART II: Chessmaster Dumbledore

“I prefer not to keep all my secrets in one basket.”

When Dumbledore solves problems, he likes to go very hands-off. He didn’t directly teach Harry about the Mirror of Erised - he gave him the Cloak, knew he would wander, and moved the Mirror so it would be in his path. He sends Snape to deal with Quirrell and Draco, rather than do it himself. He (or his portrait) tells Snape to confund Mundungus Fletcher and get him to suggest the Seven Potters strategy. He puts Mrs. Figg in place to watch Harry, then ups the protection in Book 5 - all without informing Harry. The situation with Slughorn is kind of a Dumbledore-manipulation master class - even the way he deliberately disappears into the bathroom so Harry will have enough solo time to charm Slughorn. Of course he only wants Slughorn under his roof in the first place to pick his brain about Voldemort… but again, instead of doing that himself, he gets Harry to do it for him.

Dumbledore has a moment during Harry’s hearing in Book 5 (which he fakes evidence for) where he informs Fudge that Harry is not under the Ministry’s jurisdiction while at Hogwarts. Which has insane implications. It’s never explicitly stated, but as the story goes on, it at least makes sense that Dumbledore is deliberately obscuring how powerful he is, and how much influence he really has, by getting other people to do things for him. But the problem with that is because he is so powerful, it become really easy for a reader to look back after they get more information and say… well if Dumbledore was controlling the situation… why couldn’t he have done XYZ. Here are two easy examples from Harry’s time spent with the Dursleys:

1. Mrs. Figg is watching over Harry from day one, but she can’t tell him she’s a squib and also she has to keep him miserable on purpose:

“Dumbledore’s orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I’m sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they’d thought you enjoyed it. It wasn’t easy, you know…”

It’s pretty intense to think of Dumbledore saying “oh yes, invite this little child over and keep him unhappy on purpose.” But okay. It’s important to keep Harry ignorant of the magical world and vice versa. fine. But once he goes to Hogwarts… that doesn’t apply anymore? I’m sure when Harry thinks he’s going to be imprisoned permanently in his bedroom during Book 2, it would’ve been comforting to know that Dumbledore was sending around someone to check on him. And when he literally runs away from home in Book 3… having the address of a trusted adult that he could easily get to would have been great for everybody.

2. When Vernon is about to actually kick Harry out during Book 5, Dumbledore sends a howler which intimidates Petunia into insisting that Harry has to stay. Vernon folds and does exactly what she says. If Dumbledore could intimidate Petunia into doing this, then why couldn’t he intimidate her into, say - giving Harry the second bedroom instead of a cupboard. Or fixing Harry’s glasses. In Book 1, the Dursleys don’t bother Harry during the entire month of August because Hagrid gives Dudley a pig’s tail. In the summer between third and fourth year, the Dursleys back off because Harry is in correspondence with Sirius (a person they fear.) But the Dursleys are afraid of all wizards. Like at this point it doesn’t seem that hard to intimidate them into acting decently to Harry.

PART III: Dumbledore and the Dursleys

“Not a pampered little prince”

JKR wanted two contradictory things. She wanted Dumbledore to be a fundamentally good guy: a wise, if eccentric mentor figure. But she also wanted Harry to have a comedically horrible childhood being locked in a cupboard, denied food, given broken glasses and ill fitting/embarrassing clothes, and generally made into a little Cinderella. Then, it’s a bigger contrast when he goes to Hogwarts and expulsion can be used as an easy threat. (Although the only person we ever see expelled is Hagrid, and that was for murder.)

So, there are a couple of tricks she uses to make it okay that Dumbledore left Harry at the Dursleys.’ The first is that once Harry leaves… nothing that happens there is given emotional weight. When he’s in the Wizarding World, he barely talks about Dursleys, barely thinks about them. They almost never come up in the narration (unless Harry’s worried about being expelled, or they’re sending him comedically awful presents.) They are completely cut from movies 4, 6, and 7 part 2 - and you do not notice.

The second trick… is that Dumbledore himself clearly doesn’t think that the Dursleys are that bad. During the King’s Cross vision-quest, he describes 11-year-old Harry as “alive and healthy (...) as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well.”

Now, this could have been really interesting. Like in a psychological way, I get it. Dumbledore had a rocky home life. Dad in prison, mom spending all her time taking care of his volatile and dangerous sister. Aberforth seems to have reacted to the situation by running completely wild, it’s implied that he never even had formal schooling… and Albus doubled down on being the Golden Child, making the family look good from the outside, and finding every means possible to escape. I would have believed it if Molly or Kingsley had a beat of being horrified by the way the Dursleys are treating Harry… but Dumbledore treats it as like, whatever. Business as usual.

But that isn’t the framing that the books use. Dumbledore is correct that the Dursleys aren’t that bad, and I think it’s because JKR fundamentally does not take the Dursleys seriously as threats. I also think she has a fairly deeply held belief that suffering creates goodness, so possibly Harry suffering at the hands of the Dursleys… was necessary? To make him good? Dumbledore himself has an arc of ‘long period of suffering = increased goodness.’ So does Severus Snape, Dudley‘s experience with the Dementor kickstarts his character growth, etc. It’s a trope she likes.

It’s only in The Cursed Child that the Dursleys are given any kind of weight when it comes to Harry’s psyche. This is one of the things that makes me say Jack Thorne wrote that play, because it’s just not consistent with how JKR likes to write the Dursleys. It’s consistent with the way fanfiction likes to write the Dursleys. And look, The Cursed Child is fascinatingly bad, I have so many problems with it, but it does seem to be doing like … a dark reinterpretation of Harry Potter? And it’s interested in saying something about cycles of abuse. I can absolutely see how the way the play handles things is flattering to JKR. It retroactively frames the Dursleys’ abuse in a more negative way, and maybe that’s something she wanted after criticism that the Harry Potter books treat physical abuse kind of lightly. (i.e. Harry at the hands of the Dursleys, and house-elves at the hands of everybody. Even Molly Weasley “wallops” Fred with a broomstick.)

PART IV: Dumbledore and Harry

“The whole Potter–Dumbledore relationship. It’s been called unhealthy, even sinister”

So whenever Harry feels betrayed by Dumbledore in the books - and he absolutely does, it’s some of JKR’s best writing - it’s not because he left him with the Dursleys. It’s because Dumbledore kept secrets from him, or lied to him, or didn’t confide in him on a personal level.

“Look what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don’t expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I’m doing, trust me even though I don’t trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!” (...) I don’t know who he loved, Hermione, but it was never me. This isn’t love, the mess he’s left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.”

Eventually though, Harry falls in line with the rest of the Order, and treats Dumbledore as an all-knowing God. And this decision comes so close to being critiqued… but the series never quite commits. Rufus Scrimgeour comments that, “Well, it is clear to me that [Dumbledore] has done a very good job on you” - implying that Harry is a product of a deliberate manipulation, and that the way Harry feels about Dumbledore is a direct result of how he's been controlling the situation (and Harry.) But Harry responds to “[You are] Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” with “Yeah, I am. Glad we straightened that out,” and it’s treated as a badass, mic drop line.

Ron goes on to say that Harry maybe shouldn’t be trusting Dumbledore and maybe his plan isn’t that great… but then he abandons his friends, regrets what he did, and is only able to come back because Dumbledore knew he would react this way? So that whole thing only makes Dumbledore seem more powerful? Aberforth tells Harry (correctly) that Dumbledore is expecting too much of him and he’s not interested in making sure that he survives:

“How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn’t more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren’t dispensable (...) Why didn’t he say… ‘Take care of yourself, here’s how to survive’? (...) You’re seventeen, boy!”

But, Aberforth is treated as this Hamish Abernathy type who has given up, and needs Harry to ignite his spark again. There’s a pretty dark line in the script of Deathly Hallows Part 2:

Which at least shows this was a possible interpretation the creative team had in their heads… but then of course it isn’t actually in the movie.

So in the end, insane trust in Dumbledore is only ever treated as proper and good. Then in Cursed Child they start using “Dumbledore” as an oath instead of “Merlin” and it’s weird and I don’t like it.

PART V: Dumbledore and his Strays

“I have known, for some time now, that you are the better man.”

So Dumbledore has this weird relationship pattern. He has a handful of people he pulled out of the fire at some point and (as a result) these people are insanely loyal to him. They do his dirty work, and he completely controls them. This is an interesting pattern, because I think it helps explain why so many fans read Dumbledore’s relationship with Snape (and with Harry) as sinister.

Let’s start with the first of Dumbledore’s “strays.” Dumbledore saves Hagrid's livelihood and probably life after he is accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets - and then he uses Hagrid to disappear Harry after the Potters' death, gets him to transport the Philosopher’s Stone, and he’s the one who he trusts to be Harry’s first point of contact with the Wizarding World. Also, Hagrid's situation doesn’t change? Even after he is cleared of opening the Chamber of Secrets, he keeps using that pink flowered umbrella with his broken wand inside, a secret that he and Dumbledore seem to share. He could get a legal wand, he could continue his education. But he doesn’t seem to, and I don’t know why.

So, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality is a well known fix-it fic that basically asks “What if Harry Potter was a machiavellian little super genius who solves the plot in a year?” I enjoyed it when it was coming out, but the only thing I would call a cheat is the way McGonagall brings Harry to Diagon Alley instead of Hagrid. Because a Harry Potter who has spent a couple of days with McGonagall is going to be much better informed, better equipped and therefore more powerful than a Harry spending the same amount of time with Hagrid. McGonagall is both a lot more knowledgeable and a lot less loyal to Dumbledore. She is loyal, obviously, but she also questions his choices in a way that Hagrid never does. And as a result, Dumbledore does not trust her with the same kind of delicate jobs he trusts to Hagrid.

Mrs. Figg is another one of Dumbledore’s strays. She’s a squib, so we can imagine that she doesn’t really have a lot of other options, and he sets her up to keep tabs on (and be unpleasant to) little Harry. He also has her lie to the entire Wizangamot, which has got to present some risk. Within this framework, Snape is another very clear stray. Dumbledore kept him out of Azkaban, and is the only reason that the Order trusts him. He gets sent on on dangerous double-agent missions… but before that he’s sort of kept on hand, even though he’s clearly miserable at Hogwarts. Firenze is definitely a stray - he can't go back to the centaurs, and who other than Dumbledore is going to hire him? And I do wonder about Trelawney. We don’t know much about her relationship with Dumbledore, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she was a stray as well.

I think there was an attempt to turn Lupin into a stray that didn’t… quite work. He is clearly grateful to Dumbledore for letting him attend Hogwarts and then for hiring him, but Lupin doesn’t really hit that necessary level of trustworthy that the others do. Most of what Dumbledore doesn’t know in Book 3 are things that Lupin could have told him, and didn’t. If had to think of a Watsonsian reason why Remus is given all these solo missions away from the other Order members (that never end up mattering…) it’s because I don’t think Dumbledore trusts him that much. Lupin doubts him too much.

“Dumbledore believed that?” said Lupin incredulously. “Dumbledore believed Snape was sorry James was dead? Snape hated James. . . .”

We also see Dumbledore start the process of making Draco into a stray by promising to protect him and his parents. And with all of that… it’s kind of easy to see how Harry fits the profile. He has a very bleak existence (which Dumbledore knows about.) He is pulled out of it by Dumbledore’s proxies. It’s not surprising that Harry develops a Hagrid-level loyalty, especially after Dumbledore saves him from Barty, from his Ministry hearing, and then from Voldemort. Harry walks to his death because Dumbledore told him too.

Just to be clear, I don’t think this pattern is deliberate. I think this is a side effect of JKR wanting to write Dumbledore as a nice guy, and specifically as a protector of the little guy. But Dumbledore doing that while also being so powerful creates a weird power dynamic, gives him a weird edit. It’s part of the reason people are happy to go one step farther and say that the Dursleys were mean to Harry… because Dumbledore actively wanted it that way. I don’t think that’s true. I think Dumbledore loves his strays and if anything, the text supports the idea that he is collecting good people, because protecting them and observing them serves some psychological function for him. Dumbledore does not believe himself to be an intrinsically good person, or trustworthy when it comes to power. So, of course someone like that would be fascinated by how powerless people operate in the world, and by people like Hagrid and Lupin and Harry, who seem so intrinsically good.

PART VI - Dumbledore and Grindelwald

“I was in love with you.”

I honestly see “17-year-old Dumbledore was enamored with Grindelwald” as a smokescreen distracting from the actual moral grayness of the guy. He wrote some edgy letters when he was a teenager, at least partly because he thought his neighbor was hot. He thought he could move Ariana, but couldn’t - which led to the chaotic three-way duel that killed her.

One thing I think J. K. Rowling does understand pretty well, and introduces into her books on purpose, is the concept of re-traumatization. Sirius in Book 5 is very obviously being re-traumatized by being in his childhood home and hearing the portrait of his mother screaming. It’s why he acts out, regresses, and does a number of unadvisable things. I think it’s also deliberate that Petunia’s unpleasant childhood is basically being re-created: her normal son next to her sister’s magical son. It's making her worse, or at the very least preventing her from getting better. We learn that Petunia has this sublimated interest in the magical world, and can even pull out vocab like “Azkaban” and “Dementor” when she needs to. She wrote Dumbledore asking to go to Hogwarts, and I could see that in a universe where Petunia didn’t have to literally raise Harry, she wouldn’t be as psychotically into normalness, cleanliness, and order as she is when we meet her in the books. After all, JKR doesn’t like to write evil mothers. She will be bend over backwards so her mothers are never really framed as bad.

And I honestly think it’s possible that J. K. Rowling was playing with the concept of re-traumatiziation when she was fleshing out Dumbledore in Book 7. We learn all this backstory, that… honestly isn’t super necessary? All I’m saying is that the three-way duel at the top of the Astronomy Tower lines up really well with the three-way duel that killed Ariana. Harry is Ariana, helpless in the middle. Draco is Aberforth, well intentioned and protective of his family - but kind of useless, and kind of a liability. Severus is Grindelwald, dark and brilliant, and one of the closest relationships Dumbledore has. If this was intentional, it was probably only for reasons of narrative symmetry… but I think it's cool in a Gus Fring of Breaking Bad sort of way, that Dumbledore (either consciously or unconsciously) has been trying to re-create this one horrible moment in his life where he felt entirely out of control. But the second time it plays out… he can give it what he sees as the correct outcome. Grindelwald kills him and everyone else lives. That is how you solve the puzzle.

If you read between the lines, Dumbledore/Grindelwald is a fascinating love story. I like the detail that after Ariana’s death, Dumbledore returns to Hogwarts because it’s a place to hide and because he doesn’t feel like he can be trusted with power. I like that he sits there, refusing promotions, refusing requests to be the new Minister of Magic, refusing to go deal with the growing Grindelwald threat until he absolutely can’t hide anymore, at which point he defeats him (somehow.) I like reading his elaborate plan to break Elder Wand’s power as both a screw-you to Grindelwald, the wand’s previous master, but also as a weirdly romantic gesture. In Albus Dumbledore’s mind, there is only Grindelwald. Voldemort can’t even begin to compare. I like the detail that Grindelwald won’t give up Dumbledore, even under torture. And, Dumbledore doesn’t put him in Azkaban. He put him in this other separate prison, which always makes it seem like he’s there under Dumbledore authority specifically. Maybe Dumbledore thinks that if he had died that day instead of Ariana…he wouldn’t have had to spend the rest of his life fighting and imprisoning the man he loves.

And then of course, Crimes of Grindelwald decided to take away Dumbledore's greatest weakness and say that no, actually he was a really good guy who never did anything wrong ever. He went all that time without fighting Grindelwald because they made a magical friendship no-fight bracelet. Dumbledore is randomly grabbing Lupin’s iconography (his fashion sense, his lesson plans, his job) in order to feel more soft and gentle than the person the books have created. Now Dumbledore knows about the Room Requirement, even though in the books it’s a plot point that he's too much of a goody-two-shoes to have ever found it himself. He loved Grindelwald (past tense.) And Secrets of Dumbledore is mostly about him being an omniscient mastermind so that a magical deer can tell him that he was a super good and worthy guy, and any doubt that he’s ever felt about himself is just objectively wrong and incorrect. Also now Aberforth has a neglected son, so he’s reframed as a bit of a hypocrite for getting on his brother’s case for not protecting Harry.

So to summarize, I think Dumbledore began the series as this very eccentric, unpredictable mentor, whose abilities took a hit in Books 3 and 4 in order to make the plot happen. He teetered on the edge of a ‘dark’ framing for like a second… but at the the end of the series he's written as basically infallible and godlike. I’ve heard people say that JKR’s increased fame was the reason she added the Rita Skeeter plot line, and I don’t think that’s true. But I do think her fame may have affected the way she wrote Dumbledore. Because Dumbledore is JKR’s comment on power, and by Book 5 she had so much power. In her head, I don’t think that Dumbledore is handing off jobs in a manipulative way. She sees him as empowering other less powerful people. That is his job as someone in power (because remember - people who desire power shouldn't wield it.)

Dumbledore’s power makes him emotionally disconnected from the people in his life, it makes him disliked and distrusted by the Ministry, but it doesn’t make him wrong. That’s important. Dumbledore is never wrong. Dumbledore is always good. That’s why we get the Blood Pact that means he was never weak or procrastinating. That’s why we get the qilin saying he was a good person. It’s why we get the tragic backstory (because giving Snape a tragic backstory worked wonders when it came to rehabilitating him.) And that is why Harry names his son Albus Severus in the epilogue, to make us readers absolutely crystal clear that these two are good men.

#hp #jkr critical #albus dumbldore #albus dumbledore meta #harry james potter #the dursleys #gellert grindelwald #albus x gellert #anti jkr #minerva mcgonagall #petunia dursley #severus snape #draco malfoy #close reading #hp fandom #literary analysis

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decayofroses · 6 months ago

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Succession war Kurapika

I've completed all the available HXH chapters (400), and there were a few scenes that really stood out to me with Kurapika.

I love and adore him as the main character of this arc, and we've seen his perspective and his downward spiral in yorknew.

Seeing him now, and how far he's strayed definitely makes his POV the most interesting to me.

I wanted to point out/ talk about some of the panels throughout the SW.

This panel especially stood out to me, and it's one of my favorites out of the entire manga. He mentions how every time he got a part of his brethren back- he lost something. While I think it could be a physical presence, I think he's talking about himself here more than anything.

Each time he's threatened, coaxed, paid people off, he's lost a part of himself.

Kurapika strays away from his relationships, while to protect them- and also what I believe is out of guilt (and the other which I'll go over in a moment). I think he knows what he's doing to himself, and I don't think he can handle facing it head on, or risking harming his friends physically or emotionally.

And again, when Kurapika agrees to join the zodiacs.

Straying even from Leorio, it's clear he'd rather face things alone, and without distractions. Which is exactly what they are, distractions.

His quest to collect his family is coming to an end. "Where would I go?" I think he means this in a literal, and metaphorical sense. Where will he end up by the end of this? Which path will he go down? He has no place to call home, and he truly believes he has nothing left, and nobody to welcome him back.

Despite having allies, and who quickly became close friends.

He didn't realize it at the time, but shortly after teaming up with Bill and others- he understood the importance of allies.

"Things didn't proceed so simply", things weren't as simple as gathering pawns, and walking the path of revenge alone.

He formed genuine bonds that mean more to him than simple pawns for his quest. He's now torn between his isolation, and his care for his friends. Despite this, he will continue to punish himself and walk this path alone- it's much harder than he'd originally intended. Pushing his friends away to complete his goal, because it serves as his only purpose in his eyes. Even if he knows it's wrong.

Oito asks if spying on the 4th prince is for his convenience. Kurapika takes a moment, and tells her this is simply a strategic choice. I don't think he's lying, but I do think he wants to protect her, and wobble- while still keeping contact with the Prince.

At the moment, he will prioritize protecting the two of them. I think it happens to align with his goal, but it isn't necessarily for his convenience.

The reason I bring this up is to highlight that despite the fact he wants to push his friends away, and work towards his goal- he won't risk the lives of others.

He says he will repeat it as many times as needed, that they are there to protect her and the prince. To trust him.

He tries to be someone who will risk everything for the sake of recovering the eyes, but deep down he can't. Much like how he cannot truly abandon his friends, only isolate himself.

Kurapika is loyal, and unwilling to sacrifice others for the sake of his goal. He forced a stalemate, and took advantage of his nen knowledge to level out the playing field. A stalemate buys them more time, making it so it won't be as easy for experienced nen users to take advantage of non nen users.

It was a brilliant idea that may be risky, but also offers protection for him, and the queen.

During this conversation with Mizaistom, it's clear that Kurapika has not abandoned all of his morals, he wants to avoid killing the Prince despite having the remaining eyes. He would rather try other methods, and is opposed to killing.

Mizaistom and Kurapikas dynamic is one of my favorites, but that's for another time.

That's all I have to talk about, for now. I wanted to go over my favorite panels, and his relationships in the succession war.

#kurapika #hunter x hunter #hxh 2011 #hxh #succession war #dark content #kurapika kurta #leorio paladiknight #mizaistom nana #oito #analysis #character analysis #kurapika analysis

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syzthefrizz · 9 months ago

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Tips for writing dream sequences (from someone who has really vivid, weird dreams on a frequent basis)

My biggest pet peeve with fictional dream sequences is that they make too much sense!! They're too relevant! There's not enough random crazy stuff! That's not always unrealistic per se, but you are missing out on some of the fun ways you can reveal information about your character's mindset, fears, struggles, and future.

Most of my dreams have a goal or objective driving the plot, and it's usually urgent. Ex. "escape the huge storm on the horizon", "find a place to sleep for the night in an unfamiliar town", "find a bathroom". This is especially true of stress dreams.

Everything going on in the dream makes perfect sense to you during the dream. It doesn't feel like reality per se, but you think it is. You're living in a house full of vampires that could eat you at any moment? Seems legit.

Emotions and situations from the dreamer's life can/will find their way into dreams, with varying levels of subtlety. The dream could be about the stressful event itself, or it could be some sort of exaggerated metaphor. Ex. I was worried about whether I was a competent CS major while I was still trying to find a summer job/internship, and I was worried about what my professors must think of me. Such a good student on paper, still without summer plans. I dreamed that I ran into my professors all having lunch together at a restaurant (during a dream with a completely different storyline), and I was wearing my pajamas. They judged me.

Certain things are very hard to do in dreams. This could vary from person to person. For me, it's always driving (the brakes never work right), flying (I can't stay off the ground for very long), and running (it's like trying to run through waist-deep water).

People with PTSD may dream about the traumatic event happening differently than it actually happened. (Take this one with a grain of salt - I don't suffer from PTSD, I just research it sometimes so my blorbos can suffer accurately).

You can have a string of loosely connected or disconnected dream sequences back to back, each with an entirely different plot, setting, etc.

People can have reoccurring themes or plotlines in their dreams, which are often connected to their lives/psyche somehow. I frequently dream about running away from tornadoes and being in situations where there's some catastrophe coming but I'm the only one who understands that there's a problem and nobody will listen to me.

It's common for me to have a dream setting that I KNOW is someplace I'm familiar with, but it doesn't actually look like that place at all. Ex. "I dreamed that we were at my house, but it didn't look like my house..."

Dreams can end in cliffhangers. Sometimes I wake up right before I'm about to eat something delicious.

Sometimes people have dreams about doing things that they would never, ever do in real life, and they wake up feeling disgusted. This is Not a manifestation of their secret desires (*glares at Freud*).

Images are the most memorable parts of dreams. I forget the specific plot points, but I can still picture dozens of liminal spaces my brain has created, even years after I dreamed about it.

Dreams will fade from memory very quickly unless the dream had a strong impression on you, you write details about it down or you tell someone about it before you forget.

If you realize you're dreaming during your dream, sometimes you can control the dream going forward. This is called lucid dreaming. I've done it accidentally a couple times, and it's really hard to "hold on" to the dream and control it. I usually wake up soon after starting. With practice, you can get better at it.

Sometimes a normal/good dream can turn into a nightmare, and vice versa. Most of my dreams aren't really good or bad, they're something in between.

Your subconscious brain is CRAZY intuitive. We can argue over the existence of prophetic dreams (I've heard so many crazy stories), but at the end of the day, your subconscious brain knows things that you don't consciously know. If your character is in love with someone, their subconscious brain will know even if the character doesn't. Relationship problems? Deepest darkest fears and insecurities? Your brain knows. A dream predicted the downfall of my first relationship eight months before it happened, down to the reason why we failed. You can absolutely foreshadow this way. A character might subconsciously know what the consequences of their or other people's actions will be, understand things about the situation they're in, know things about the people they're interacting with, and more, despite their conscious realizations.

There are plenty of ways to make a dream sequence relevant to your story, but don't forget to add in some fun, random details. Character A is secretly in love with Character B? Have Character A dream about Character B confessing feelings to them while in a Vine Nostalgia themed restaurant over a plate of mac-n-cheese. The details are the fun part, and you can get as weird as you want. I once ran into my aunt in a dream, and she was wearing a backpack with a bunch of (fake?) hands sticking out of it, making a fan that rose above her back behind her head like some sort of peacock feather costume piece. I was so freaked out that I woke up. I dare you to get weirder than that.

Not everyone's brain works the same way. I have vivid, random, detailed, memorable dreams on a frequent basis. When I describe them to people they often ask "what were you on?". My roommate only remembers her dreams when they're nightmares. I have some friends who say they don't dream. Other friends have really boring, mundane dreams about their normal lives. Some people have weird dreams but only once in a blue moon. It's a good idea to decide off the bat what kinds of dreams your character has, and how often they remember them.

That's it for now, but I might make a part two if I think of more things to add. Feel free to reblog with your own personal dream expertise!

#writeblr #writing advice #creative writing #dreams #weird dreams #writing tips #writers on tumblr

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oceanfruitsstuff · 1 month ago

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So, I’m in no way a professional here, but I’ve been learning more about writing and storytelling and all that fun stuff and one thing I love about Stranger Things is how they do love triangles—or more, love upside down V’s, that visual always helps me a bit more when I’m trying to make sense of them.

Stranger Things isn’t over yet, they still have a big chunk left to go, so I’m not going to act like anything is set in stone, they might go a completely different direction we know nothing about and that’s totally fine—but if we’re working with what we know up to this point, it’s always been pretty obvious to me what their intentions are if they’re following the normal structure of love triangles.

So let’s say Mike is character A, El is character B, and then Will is character C. Since Stranger Things isn’t a romance story and there is queerness involved, it’s going to be much more subtle then, let’s say, Steve/Nancy/Jonathan. But I’m getting off topic here, what I’m saying is Mike is not the main focus for both characters, in a show or movie that’s revolving around romance, both B and C characters would, usually, have their main focus be A (the character they want to be with) a big thing for me when I’m reading books with love triangles or watching shows/movies, is that if at any point one of the characters (besides character A) has an important arc of finding independence and learning about who they are, you can almost always rule that character out of being part of the “endgame couple”. Not everytime, but almost everytime. So, the second I watched season 4 it was a big “ohhh” moment for me when I saw what they were doing.

Also, if we’re gonna just follow the cliques of love triangles, the “obvious” or maybe first choice/couple, is very rarely going to be the final couple. Again, not always, but it’s extremely uncommon.

We can even do a comparison to the hunger games, it’s obviously a vastly different story, but there is a similarity woven in with the little love triangle they have going on. Katniss’ first choice is not Peeta, and we all know what happens—but the thing that is bringing me to this point, is that they still are almost always together, their plot lines are lined up. Of course it’s different since Katniss is the only POV, but still, no matter what, she winds up, usually, working with Peeta OR trying to find him once he’s taken.

Circling back to Mike and Will, they’ve never been separated, they’re storylines have been continuously woven together, they flew Mike out to Lenora this season just so he would end up working with Will. The only season they’re apart is season one—but, Mike’s goal the entire time and main focus is Will. They bump together because, a lot of the time, they’re focusing on one another.

A writer wants their endgame couples to be displayed together, the want people to like them together and root for them, or really just see them together. Every single other couple on the show (except for Jonathan and Nancy is season 4) are always shoved next together during the main plot. Joyce and Hopper don’t even start chatting about being together until season 3. We all kind of know where it’s headed, but most of their encounters aren’t romantic, there’s a depth to them that makes it somewhat romantic, but it’s not necessarily written to be that way. If you’re writing a story, you want the two characters you plan to be together to have a heavy background, a good rapport with one another, and to be seen together. Whether they’re currently dating or not, you want your audience rooting for them.

With El and Mike, it’s always been so odd the separation they have—because their arcs are not meant to intertwine, they love each other and hold an important relationship in the story, sure, but one of the reasons I’ve always felt strange watching their relationship on screen is because it doesn’t appear their stories are going in the same direction. There is this lack of romantic depth, or honestly even friendly depth, they hold each other at arms length. I think that’s for many reasons, but an important one is that El’s arc is not romance, I think for her character it would be insane if it was. The things she’s been through are crazy, and she’s only just learning who she is and who she wants to be—based on what we saw in the last scene where she’s practically ignoring Mike, we can assume she’s figured out what she wants.

Very very rarely does character A end up with character B. In real life, maybe, in stories, it’s pretty boring and not what people lean towards. Again, the show is not over, they could shift things around, it’ll be interesting to see—but I would be extremely surprised if Will and Mike don’t end up together or atleast are shown to have mutual feelings, purely just based on the simple storytelling structure they’re following.

Anyway I’m sure a million people have already said this, but the writing of how they’re handing Will and Mike is so interesting to me—and obvious if you’re taking away homophobia.

Characters that are meant to be together are usually shown together. If they’re not, that’s when you ask questions on what else might be going on.

Who knows if I know what I’m talking about, that’s just my POV on it all. I love Mike and Will, I’ve always thought they’d be beautiful together, but season 5 will be super exciting to see.

#byler #byler endgame

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evilminji · 4 months ago

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I... am haunted? By my Midi-chlorian theory?

Cause they are PROBABLY? Some sort of Symbiotic Bacteria?

Which was my theory. Cause "micro-organisms" is vague af? And doesn't exactly tell us what KIND? But it's probably not a mammal or some sort of fish? So like... helpful blood bacteria. Got it! No different then a good gut biome. Makes perfect sense!

Yeah, THIS one has? For some reason? A hyper sensitivity to fundamental forces of reality? But I mean? Monkeys with type writers, right? Something, somewhere, was bound to get it. Some organisms get better smell to survive, some get sensitive whiskers. The blood bacteria got jacked in to Reality's newsreel. Some low ranking admin privileges.

Still? Needs a HOST to survive though. Doesn't, itself, even really HAVE a brain.

Cause it's a Bacteria.

A Bacteria and... and Bacteria can be multiplied. Grown. Obviously? Midi-chlorians refuse to do so outside of a living body. Or the Sith and various other researchers, bother ethical and UNETHICAL, would have figured out how to crack Midi-chlorian development.

They ALSO? We can only assume? DO NOT mix. As in? Any Midi-chlorian's? Removed from the Original Host™ die off pretty promptly. (In time with the blood rotting or new body assimilating the fresh, donated, blood.) So you presumably, couldn't take from, say, Skywalker and give to an average farmer, and have that farmer become mildly force sensitive.

Even THOUGH? The BLOOD? Is where his Midi-chlorians are! So PRESUMABLY? So long as he and the farmer had compatible blood types? That SHOULD happen! Because Anikin his a SHIT TON of Midi-chlorian bacteria in his blood and the farmer would be receiving some of that High Production Strain.

Not saying the farmer would ever become a powerhouse. But? There should? Be a difference? Even if it was only temporarily.

Yet? It seems? Like Midi-chlorian strains? Just don't MIX. They split off, during development of a child, begin cultivation of their own unique colony, and never again! Shall the stains blend. I'd go so far? As to say? They probably ATTACK other Midi-chlorians in THEIR space.

Like part of the immune system. Disease, poison, parasites, and of course? Those filthy, FILTHY Other Midi-chlorian Colonies trying to encroach upon THEIR resources. Get! GET!

Which is where? All past attempts have FAILED. Because they? Had an END GOAL first, and they worked their way backwards. Approached it all with either preconceived notions or complete derision of the subject matter. Ignoring countless culture's collective MILLENNIUMS of knowledge on the subject. The observations. The notes. The folk remedies and early sciences.

Arrogant. Forgetting or outright dismissing. Because THEY were better. THEY were SMARTER. Surely, THEY would crack the code! Unlock the SECRETS of this MYSTICAL building block of the Force!

Achieve... POWER.

But? The thing IS? Primitive? Does not and HAS not? Ever meant stupid. It means young. New. Doctors and scientists, doing the best they could, with what they had. To help as many as they could. The Force? It was a mysterious thing. They knew the shape of it. The edges, but not it's depths. They could observe.

If they did X... Y occurred. Medicine A? Brought about B and C side effects, avoid it going forward. Use Medicine D. So forth and so on. Building upon the knowledge of the past.

But OH, THEY? Didn't have fancy modern medical technology! Didn't know the modern terms! So obviously they were superstitious idiots!

Thus, attempt after attempt. Failed. Usually with innocent people, paying the price. Because Power. Because Fame. Because they could rule the galaxy and go down in history books... if only these simple little bacteria would COOPERATE. But.... they don't. Do they?

Because you lack understanding.

You. Can Not. Remove Them. From The. HOST.

They DIE.

They can exsist in exactly ONE(1) environment. Their NATIVE environment. Where you found them? That's where they need to STAY. If you found them in a tree? The need to stay in THAT specific tree. Dirt? Well then! Dirt from THAT specific region of THAT specific PLANET. No moving! Cease! Desist!

Are the Midi-chlorians in a baby? The start up strains were donated! Congrats! THEY LIVE THERE NOW. They are now NATIVE to the BABY. Can not exsist OUTSIDE the baby! In fact, will immediately begin to die! Outside that baby!

This is WHY Sith Alchemy is so fucked up. Lots of live experimentation and forcing Midi-chlorians into statis. Body horror everywhere. No mas! It DOES NOT SPARK JOY.

Which?! That leads me to my point! The part of all this THAT FUCKING HAUNTS ME!!!

Bacteria can be multiplied if you give it the right food. Fuck, it WANTS to multiple. WANTS to go gangbusters. Just? Absolutely apeshit. Thick enough in the blood to turn it all into PASTE. It doesn't have a brain. It can't look around and think to itself "hey, maybe we should slow down, we're straining the environment".

It's bacteria. Ultimately, in the end, JUST Bacteria.

Yes, it may be the medium by which we connect to The Force... but IT itself? Has no intelligence to negotiate with. Just like the cells in your body. And JUST like the cells in your body? It can be a cancer. Could kill you, if something went wrong.

If SOMEONE, deliberately, made things go wrong.

All in the name of "Science".

Yes, once again, I consider the SI-OC, even as I consider Midi-chlorians themselves. What "feeds" such a bacteria? A healthy body, presumably. Connection to the Force? Kyber, most likely. Force powerful items. We know they "call" to those who are Sensitive. But! As we know? The part of your body that can actually FEEL that call? Is the Midi-chlorians in your blood, which then transfers the information to it's host.

It is the Midi-chlorians that want that specific Force object. In all likelihood, because it benefits them. That it benefits you? Is a lovely side effect. That is can be used for things? Neat! Good on you for figuring that out! It would still call you to collect pretty, shining, rocks, even if you couldn't use Kyber for SHIT. You would be COMPELLED.

NEED it.

It makes the Midi-chlorians inside you go Brrrrr. Mmm, yes, happy chemicals. Positive reinforcement! You should continue to do OTHER things that help the Midi-chlorians! Like meditation, eating well, and being around others! Go on! Hug that baby! Yeeeeeah, good energy makes LOTS of Midi-chlorian food! (Bad energy too. We are not picky. But that Does Not Feel Nice. So like.... why tho?)

So! Consider!

You have yourself an UNETHICAL AF scientist. The Board does NOT UNDERSTAND THEIR GENIUS etc etc. They have completely lost their shit. Unfortunately, they have money. And Slavery and desperation abound. There are ugly, UGLY pockets of darkness in this galaxy.

They? Have An Idea™! (It is a terrible, horrifying idea)

This scientist? Is going to crack the Secrets of The Midi-chlorian! Become Famous! It is a plot heard many times before, sadly. Just as sadly? SI-OC's parents, who were on their way to the temple, never make it there. Make no mistake! Good people. Upset, of course, that they will be losing their daughter. But? As all good parents do?

They made the decision they thought was best for their baby girl. A lifetime of being understood. Supported. Of stable food and safe beds. A good, quality education they would never be able to afford. Being able to help people someday. They love their daughter. Weep for losing her. But sometimes? Loving your child? Means letting them go.

Not forgotten. NEVER forgotten. But somewhere better then they could ever give her. Safe from those who would see their child in chains.

They do not make it.

But they do not go quietly. When those bastards come for their little girl. They make it cost dearly. Not dearly enough. Never, ever, enough. But one of the other passengers is able to get off the emergency beacon. So the Jedi will know. They will come.

It... it has to be... enough...

And it is.

And they do.

But it is not just a pirate attack. Not JUST slavers. No... no this is far more horrifying. Far worse indeed. The Shadow sent to rescue the child? Stumbles into a festering shitshow. The sort that takes a TEAM to unravel. The not-pirates are mercenaries, are closing in fast. He send his data in full, in one big lump as an emergency download.

Capture likely eminent. They're experimenting on Force Sensitives. Need Back Up.

Help.

The Doctor is, of course, DELIGHTED! An adult specimen AND a child! Comparisons and contrasts! They ramble on, unhinged, to the horror of the Shadow. Who's eyes are locked on the Crecheling in a cage. He knows help will come... but will it come fast enough?

No. Not really.

But what keeps HIM from falling? Is the Crecheling that needs to be taught. Ironic, in a way, that the very thing their capture demands and demands? Is what helps them escape, however temporarily, their cages. Meditate. They are told. Or else.

Surrounded by stolen artifacts of Light.

Meditate.

Imagine, if you will, a dialysis machine. It filters the blood, yes? Pumps it outside the body? A terrible process. Trial and error. How far is too far? At what distance, do the midi-chlorians begin to die? The doctor kills... so, SO many innocent. Not their prize specimens. Jedi are hard to get! But slaves? Easy enough.

The Shadow can not Fall, he reminds himself. Can not give in to his grief or rage. His horror, his sorrow. It... it is so hard. To remember the Light. In this dark place. But the Crechling helps. The kyber, the artifacts. When... not... Not IF! But WHEN he gets out of here? He thinks... he thinks he should retire. Being a Creche Master sounds lovely, to be honest.

Bright. Peaceful.

The doctor completes their horror machine. He can not stop them from putting on SI-OC. After all... HE is done growing. It filters the blood, you see. Nice and close to the body. Through and around Force rich materials, in medical grade tubing. Exposing the Midi-chlorians directly to the energy they feed off of. Filter in a mineral solution to use as building blocks.

It WORKS.

The midi-chlorians in SI-OC blood start multiplying far faster and too far greater concentration then ever before. Slowly but surely boosting their Force Sensitivity as they go. What a rousing success.

If it weren't slowly killing SI-OC.

Ever imagine? What would happen if someone reached over and slowly started turning up the sensitivity on your eyesight? Your hearing? Your taste, touch, the FEELING OF YOUR BONES? If every breath was sandpaper, and every thought an adrenaline rush?

Could you imagine? FEELING the galaxy BREATHE? Knowing for a fact that your body had been specially designed for a certain level of sensitivity? And you had been broken? Because someone wanted to see if you could handle HIGHER?

Power without the support structure? Burns everything down.

Just because something CAN be done? Doesn't mean it will work the way you fantasize it will. Reality is not a story book. Where Power comes in pretty little packages, to be bought or sold or stolen. Midi-chlorians were always Bacteria. And trying to fuck with your own micro-biomes for more power? Was always destined to end in death and disease.

For you. For someone else. For every innocent you dragged into it.

They scoffed at the "primitive" scholars who warned not to fuck with it, yet still treat it like its a mystical power to be seized.

The Shadows that finally track down the lab? BURN it wil a VENGEANCE. It is a place of horrors. And initiate SI-OC is very, VERY sick. They aren't even sure they can risk taking her to Coruscant. Too many people. Jedha? Probably safer. Luckily their library has something that...? MIGHT? Be able to help treat this?

SI-OC probably never stops Tasting Time™ and seeing the Pretty Colors™ but? At least she becomes? Largely functional? Probably needs a disability animal. One that's mildly force sensitive, so it knows when she's ~~drifting~~ again. Keep her from walking into traffic or off a landing platform.

The random bouts of prophecy and mind reading are a bit disconcerting, but like? Lay off! It's not SI-OC fault! Be nice! She can't help it! Don't be rude! D:< she basicly has tiny Force Nexus in HER BLOOD. So WHAT if she occasionally stops to admire a sunrise that hasn't existed for thousands of years? It's probably pretty!

The younglings? Very understanding. Adults are a bit creeped out. But like? Eh. Just EXTRA Jedi-y Jedi... they guess? (No, no not really. This one had a serious Force Incident. But like FUCK we're breaking rank to tell outsiders that sooooo..... Sure? Yeah. Let's go with that!)

Ironically? I bet? Anikin gets along great with her? They're team "WHY YES, THE FORCE IS VERY LOUD. WHY ARE WE SHOUTING? SO YOU CAN HEAR US! OVER THE FORCE! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THAT LOU-?". He got it naturally, she got it by getting fucked over. But? They can both go?

"Hey, you feel that thingy in the-?" *vague hand motion* and get a "oh YEAH! Wonder what's THAT'S about?". Does anyone else feel it? No. Is it obvious to THEM? Yes.

Will Anikin punch your lights out, if you mock his disabled friend? *boss music starts playing* R U N. Padme would help. Tag team, fuckeeeeer! *from the highbar with a steel chair*

Community is EVERYTHING. And sometimes? It's you, your secret wife, your brother-mentor-dad, the Clone army you adopted, and the perpetually Force High/Vaguely Brain Damaged jedi you call your best friend! And the droids. And your secret wife's body gaurd squad. And the younglings your friend-... actually? You know what? Your family's kinda big.

Awesome :)

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @spidori @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @the-witchhunter @lolottes @mayfay

#minji's writing #midi chlorians #Midi-chlorians theories #si-oc #star wars prompt #minji's ocs #Midi-chlorian theory au #dont fuck with your micro biome kids #its not worth it #midi-chlorians are fucking bacteria #fight me #long read #long post

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narcjsistx · 1 month ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 | kaiser x reader

— part fifteen, last chapter

words: 3.1k (3108)

plot: kaiser comforted you after a bad and slow breakup, but what will happen now considering what you two shared? is everything still unexpected or is there something you both simply have yet to realize?. fluff shit 'cause yeah!!

extra: this is the last chapter of the story, read to the end for a little thank you!!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

For the various photoshoots you had done during your career, you had already had the pleasure of wearing wedding dresses. You loved white, and more than one person had told you that it looked good on you, and the wide and vaporous skirts of the dresses had your heart. You were not unknown to wedding dresses, but now you were with yours. You had chosen it more than a few months ago, but now that you were wearing it and with an aisle waiting for you, you felt strange in the dress that had captured your heart in that atelier in Hamburg. A few tears threaten to come out, but this time there would be no one to improve your makeup, since the staff had already left a few hours ago, leaving you alone in your dressing room. It was almost time for the start

One year ago. Exactly one year ago, Kaiser had asked you to marry him, after one of his greatest victories: Germany had won the World Cup against Japan, winning 1 - 0 thanks to the goal of the only emperor on the field. And so, while you were on the field hugging him, crying and congratulating him, Michael had decided to get down on one knee and ask you the important question in front of millions of people, and you had accepted, of course. You knew you were accepting even though you had made the relationship public just a year before, but there was Kaiser asking you, the boy who had never let you drown. You didn't even have to worry in the slightest, he was your best friend and bf after all

And today was today. In less than five minutes you would be out of the room and back in as Y/n Kaiser officially. Finally, the boy who had your heart entirely would be yours even before the law, and you would have been proudly his. You're not afraid, you're happy, but the slight anxiety you have is something you just can't get rid of. You're about to get married, it's something you only saw yourself in with Gabriel, and yet you're about to take the big step with someone who isn't him and who really wants you. It's strange, but beautiful

You take a deep breath, looking at yourself in the mirror one last time: you find yourself prettier than usual, you hope your future husband thinks the same when he sees you. "Everything's going to be okay. I deserve it" you say to your reflection, and you nod almost automatically. You really deserve it, after having experienced so many bad things all at once. It's been an experience for two years now, but every now and then at night you still dream of Gabriel trying to throw you into an endless ravine. It's bad to wake up nervous, but Kaiser is always by your side to help you, so it passes quickly; and when it happens to him, when he dreams about his past and his father, you're the one who calms him down. You balance each other out, it's like an habit

It's time. You leave the room, where you find your father who has already shed several tears. You are ready. You take his arm and together you leave the building where, later, the rest of the ceremony will take place. It's an old villa with a huge garden around it, where the aisle was set up for the occasion. You decided on the location, since Kaiser had proposed to get married inside a stadium... but it wasn't, let's say, the right place

Luckily it's sunny, otherwise you wouldn't have known where to put all the guests: between your family, his teammates and some members of an old project he participated in, you are about 500 guests. You have a friend from Italy as your maid of honor, while Kaiser's best man is obviously Ness. No one from his family is there, but that's not surprising: his family has always been you and his team, so that's okay. You both wanted all these people, plus it's the wedding of the model of the moment and the captain of the winning team of the World Cup, which means you're quite in the spotlight. Not that you're not used to it

You hear the music of violins nearby, as the garden gets closer and closer. Your father squeezes your arm one last time, as you give the staff approval to open the door that separates you from the wedding aisle. The muffled noise grows louder, while the chatter of the guests quiets down when they notice your presence. You look at the guests with a slightly embarrassed gaze, then you look to the end of the aisle

Dressed in a white suit with a dark blue tie, Kaiser shines: his eyes, with their usual red eyeliner, are fixed on you in a way you've never seen before, and you can't help but be moved by this gesture. You smile awkwardly at him as you approach, and he holds out his hand as you notice how his eyes are getting glossy. Once you reach the beginning of the altar, you let go of your father's arm, who, after having murmured something to your future husband, lets you grab his hand to climb to go up. He squeezes your hand affectionately as he lets you stand in front of him, his finger caressing your cheek “You look gorgeous” he whispers, and you notice a small tear leave his eye. You smile tenderly at him, wiping it away quickly "Thank you, Mihya" you say, and he chuckles slightly

The ceremony begins, and you can't help but laugh at every little thing, whether it's when he loses concentration or when the guests shout something joking. It's just that you're so happy that you can't help but smile, at the situation and at the boy who is about to become your husband and who shares your same happiness. Everything is going so well that you don't realize it's time for the vows, starting with yours. You clear your throat, taking with shaking hands the note you wrote last night, when you were alone in your room, and you were dying from the anxiety

"Micheal Kaiser, Mihya for me, the one who has been accompanying me for so long in the strangest and at the same time serious things that life reserves for me. To my best friend, to the boy who loved me for so long without me knowing, to the boy who made me understand what it really means to be loved. To you I want to say thank you, because I don't know how else to explain my gratitude. Thank you for being there, existing, being yourself" you say shakily, letting the most important words come when you speak tonight. The audience gives a small round of applause as Kaiser takes your hand and kisses it, Ness muttering something to him about how he shouldn't do that. You giggle at the gesture, tears now slowly rolling down your pink cheeks too. When the situation calms down, Kaiser takes a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, clearing his throat "If I had to describe how my life has improved since you've been a part of it, I couldn't explain it. You've improved everything around me, but also myself, not being afraid to get your hands dirty with a complicated piece like me. I'm not the best boyfriend, maybe I won't even be the best husband, but let me hope that my superiority complex helps me, because I really care about being that for you, for us" he says, eliciting a few laughs from the audience and also from you for the last sentence. You know perfectly well how much he cares about you, about your relationship, so you can't help but burst into even louder tears at his words, while you notice how he also lets out a few tears

As you both wipe away each other's tears, the man tell you it's time for the kiss. You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear the man's words officially confirming that you are husband and wife, and as the audience erupts in thunderous applause, you feel Kaiser's hands rest on your hips. You look up, meeting with the one who is now officially your husband "Mrs. Kaiser, may I?" he whispers with a smirk, as you place your hands on his cheeks; you chuckle slightly, nodding "You may" you whisper, but you don't have time to finish the sentence before his lips land on yours in a hungry kiss. The crowd increases the level of the roar, while you meanwhile feel in heaven with his arms holding you tightly. The kiss you share is bitter, but sweet at the same time: bitter, for everything you've had to go through; sweet, for everything you've experienced since that day in the hotel and for what awaits you from this moment, which you're so fucking ready for. Now, with his lips on yours, you realize how much you've really moved forward, how much you didn't give up even when there was little hope. The goal was to be happy, and you are. You're so much. When you pull away, the noise from the crowd confuses you a bit. You smile as you turn to people, waving to your family and friends while your husband’s arms make no move to let you go “Shall we start with these things right away?” you ask playfully, and he rolls his eyes in amusement, increasing his grip on your waist “You say this like you're not used to this or much worse things”

Sitting next to your husband, his arm around your shoulders as you cuddle up to him, the sound of the violins stops when you see your brother near the table you've set aside for speeches. The party has been going on for several hours now, and the blue of the sky has been replaced by the orange of the sunset, which is slowly giving way to the night. The chatter of the guests stops, as a microphone is passed to the man. Your brother has never been one for talking so much

"Good evening... does this thing work? I hope so. I was saying... good evening. I think everyone here knows me or at least has an idea of who I am, otherwise let's say I'm simply the older brother of the beautiful woman who today took another man's last name, abandoning the one she carried with extreme pride for 28 years. My sister has always been the little one of the house, the little sister that everyone wants and that I hated a little, because she was always better than me at school. But I've loved you since you were born Y/n, you know that well, don't make me say sentimental things too much. I was lucky enough to always be accompanied by my family and therefore by my sister when I started coaching Bastard Munchen, more than 10 years ago. I never expected that thanks to me she would have met the man who today has become her husband, and who at the time was my favorite player. I mean, it was kind of noticeable how he looked at her... but let's keep that private, right Kaiser?. She too, however, always looked at you with an air that she didn't give to others, even though she was loved by all the boys on the team. It was now noticeable how, even while continuing to maintain a facade of almost hatred, you both had grown fond of each other. I wasn't particularly happy to see my sister with someone like that... but I understood when they changed my team how much you really cared about her, Kaiser. There my uncertainties fell, that day you came to say goodbye to her at the airport before leaving. There I understood how much you actually loved her, even though I was still just her best friend. And I was happy, happy to know that there was someone who would have her back when I, at a certain point, could no longer. You've maintained the facade of best friends for far too long, in my opinion... but now you're here, you're husband and wife, something has obviously worked. I don't know what else to say, I think you both know how much I love you and how happy I am that you're together. I'm just happy to know that someone loves my sister the way she truly deserves. Good luck"

The crowd erupts in applause, and you run into your brother's arms, holding him tightly to you. You notice how he and Kaiser exchange a look, as if Michael is confirming to him that he will always be there for you; but your brother already knows this after all. Since you are both standing now, you decide to give the speech that has been on your mind for a long time now, and that can finally come out. You take the microphone, clearing your throat while you taking a light breath

"Before I begin, I would like to thank everyone for being here, for participating in such an important day for both me and Micheal... thank you for loving us. I would start by saying how much I love my now husband, but I think I would bore everyone and also sound a bit repetitive, since everyone knows that. So I say... thank you, Mihya. Now, looking at where we are, I can't believe I've reached such an important milestone with someone like that, who I met by pure chance and who I didn't even like very much at first. But changing my mind about you was probably the best choice I could have made, because you gave me the chance to be close to you and to be able to count on you in moments when even I hated myself. But you taught me that love doesn't try to drown you, destroy you, make you someone else. You taught me that love supports you, makes you happy, is cultivated over time as you did for so many years without me knowing it. You taught me that if one sad the other must be there, and not be the reason why one is sad. I was used to this, you know it perfectly, and yet you showed me a completely different shade that, today, always makes me so so so happy. I guess I still have to apologize for reading your letters that time... but hey, I think if I hadn't, we wouldn't be here, and maybe we wouldn't even have the relationship we have now. I made a mistake, but it was the mistake that brought me the most happiness of all, so I ask you to forgive me without feeling too bad. I love being able to be next to you, touch you, just feel the presence of your hands or lips on my body when you're stressed, happy or whatever just feels right. Let me be what you have been to me, an anchor, because my goal is to make you as happy as you have made me in these years. Let me love you as you deserve, Mihya"

When you look up, along with other applause, Kaiser's seems to sound louder than all the others. You know your husband, you know how much these words affect him even if he doesn't show it very much. But you know how much he really needs confirmation, which you absolutely want to give him from now on. The microphone moves from your hands to his, while one is positioned at your waist to hold you closer

"If you had told me that I would marry my coach's sister, I would have laughed in their face. Or at least that's what I thought for the first two minutes after seeing her for the first time. After that time my view has definitely changed, and the results are these. I think I fell in love with my wife now pretty much right away, but I kept it a secret for so long that maybe, at a certain point, I started to doubt whether I really loved her or whether it was just an obsession that had grown with me. But then I looked for her in places, in girls, in everything. So I realized that I was really too much in love with my best friend... but tell her? absolutely not. What would I have done if I had ruined everything with the woman who in my dreams had already been my wife for a long time? I would be dead, metaphorically and not. I don't think there's anyone who loves her as much as I do, as much as I want to be sure that she's mine. Y/n has always supported me in every possible situation, in soccer and in personal life, where her words have often saved me from choking. Her support, and after her love, became my reason to explain the impossible. No one knows me as well as my wife knows me, as well as she knows my flaws and my virtues. She has been everything, she is everything and she will always be everything. I'd rather lose another World Cup than see you sad for a single second because of me, because I've already seen you suffer enough for bastards who didn't even deserve a shred of your attention. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty with you, because I know how much your love is worth. Until I die, she will have what she can safely call the greatest of her loves. But don't die before me, Y/n, because I might go crazy"

After hearing his words you can't help but cry. He laughs as he puts down the microphone, running a hand down your back as you smile through your tears, which are obviously tears of joy. You've suffered so much, too much, to levels that you don't even think are legal for one life to live. But it was worth it, if now you can finally say that you are loved and respected by the man you love most in the world and who you know for a fact has made your life better. It was all so unexpected, but also so fucking beautiful

And you can't help but smile, now that you've made it. But you won't smile alone anymore, now, but with your lovely husband, Micheal Kaiser

tag(s): @rroxii ; @kittenish0 ; @bungoustraydogsno1fan ; @sabrina-senpai ; @vannilaa16 ; @kaz-0e ; @tamashithe2nd ; @x3nafix ; @sleepycatswise

this was officially the last chapter, and wow, I didn't think I'd make it or at least make the first chapter a real story 😭 I have to thank everyone for all the love the story received, I hope I satisfied the ideas you had! love y'all 🫶

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