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myapathyhaspeaked · 3 months ago

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Platonic Sides Week Day 4: Inside Jokes

Back in the day, yearly Halloween decorations were less holiday fun and more a force of nature. The Core Sides would wake up on October first to find the Mindscape common room covered in gore and grime. Blood seeped from the floorboards, and impressions of haunting faces were pressed into the wall. Posters for horror movies were plastered all over, and cobwebs crowded each corner. It was the result of Virgil and Remus sneaking in late at night. Inspired by Virgil listing off the scariest things he could think of, the Duke would bring it all to metaphysical reality.

But then Virgil was accepted, and instead of ambushing them, he was invited to collaborate with Roman. The decor wasn’t nearly as scary, now consisting of cheery jack-o-lantern lights and plastic skeletons, but now that they had more than a late night raid to set up (and Remus wasn’t involved) it was a lot more cohesive, and the others could tell that real thought was put into how it was all arranged. Unlike before, when it looked like the Exorcist throwing up everywhere scene equivalent of a Spirit Halloween. It was also a lot more relaxing for Virgil, who didn’t have to face the consequences of telling Remus of all people (why did he used to think that was a good idea?) what he saw as shit-your-pants worthy the morning after. And despite what one might expect from someone who loved making himself a nuisance and inviting himself where he wasn’t welcome, Remus didn’t crash the decorating or switch out the cartoony ghost banners for goopy intestines. He just went back to his tower in the Imagination, and did his worst.

Because of recent “developments”, they were now making an effort to not force any Side out (though some were more excited about this prospect than others). Since Halloween was soon approaching, Virgil had hesitantly decided to dig up an old tradition, and invited the Duke to join Roman and him in decorating. After all, with two Creativities bouncing ideas off each other and two safer Sides to keep His Disgrace in check, it had to turn out great, right?

Yeah that silly idea was thrown out the window as soon as the twins’ opposing tastes lead to them butting heads.

“Why the hell would I use plastic knives? This isn’t a school cafeteria, I’m using high-quality, stainless steel, blood covered knives!”

“You’d use plastic knives because we don’t want someone to poke their eye out!” Roman argued. In his defense, he wasn’t suggesting they use the dinky plastic knives found in fast food restaurants that can’t actually cut anything, but plastic molded to look like the kind of bloody knives you’d see in cartoons, with bright red blood painted onto a right triangle on a stick.

“Maybe you would, but I have some goddamn artistic integrity. The glorious season of Halloween deserves nothing less than real knives.”

Having had enough, and really needing a hand with hanging up the witch on a broomstick, Virgil decided to get involved (which was never a good idea, but being smart was Logan’s job).

“Yeah, because we totally want a repeat of Crochet Night,” he interrupted with a snicker as he struggled to get a loop of string onto one of the hooks they’d stuck onto the ceiling. It didn’t help that he really didn’t feel safe standing on a chair for this, so he was shaking a bit.

“Crochet Night?” Roman asked, interest evident in his voice, because one would assume that crocheting was a very mundane activity, the kind of thing you’d expect grannies to do while talking about the latest bingo game. But the combination of yarn, needles, Remus, free time, and perhaps a lack of supervision had some interesting possabilities, and he was intrigued.

“It’s a long story,” Virgil answered, and he wasn’t lying. It would be a task of its own to even describe the end result.

“Yeah dude, get your own fucking noodle incident!” Remus jeered, stabbing some rusty nails in the wall to hang decorations from. The nice thing about the Mindscape was that they didn’t have to bother finding a stud.

“Excuse me, Rudey Gloom and I have so many ‘noodle incidents!’ Just last week was spaghetti Sunday!” the Prince protested, and Virgil just shook his head and went back to trying to hang the witch (because that’s how it actually happened). He’d explain it later.

It was a while later, and they were debating if adding fake eyeballs to the blood red Hawaiian punch was too much. In Remus’ opinion, there was no such thing as too many eyeballs, but the others didn’t fully trust him not to put in real ones. Maybe one of two though, ones that they verified were just ping pong balls or something before they were put in, that might be fun.

One might think the first week of October is too early to start putting out party snacks. But since food in the Mindscape didn’t expire unless they (just Remus really) wanted it to, a table of them served just fine as decoration.

“We could make them outta jelly, then it would be like eating an actual one.”

Roman cringed at his brother’s suggestion, before hiding his face behind a sip from a red solo cup. Yes, like in the movies.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who’d want that,” Virgil said, setting down a tray of those sprinkle covered sugar cookies that have pictures of pumpkins and ghosts on them.

“You say that,” the Prince replied, looking more excited than the situation called for.

“You say that,” Virgil mirrored, laughter barely contained by the grin on his face.

“What the fuck are you two saying?”

“Oh, it’s uh…” he trailed off, because really to understand he’d need to explain about five weeks’ worth of context, the history of ferrets, and the plot of an obscure kids’ show episode.

“You had to be there, Angus Boredom!” Roman boasted, gesturing his solo cup at his brother. Remus groaned, wanting more than ever to know what that was all about now that he was being denied the knowledge.

Several minutes later, Virgil gawked when he walked in with paper mâché supplies to see the twins working together to stick spooky gel stickers to the ceiling. Them working together for once wasn’t what he was reacting to, though that was also unusual. No, the real weirdness was that Roman was sitting on his brother’s shoulders.

“Hey Emo,” Remus waved, causing Roman to brace himself against the ceiling so he wouldn’t fall off. “You got the sauce?”

“For the last time, glue is not a condiment. And what are you two doing?”

“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” Roman asked as he removed the backing from a squishy spider sticker. “We’re putting up stickers. They glow in the dark, it’ll be fabulous!”

“I can see that, I’m not blind,” he rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t you use a ladder or something?”

“Nah, do you know how many people die from ladders? This is much safer,” he answered, and normally Virgil would argue that there was no way that was true. But really? They were quite good at it. Roman could stretch and reach and maneuver however he needed to, and Remus had no problem adjusting so they didn’t come crashing down. And, as long as he was given a bit of warning, Remus could stroll over to where they needed to be next and Roman wouldn’t so much as sway, balancing himself with his twin’s gait. It was obvious they had done this before. Multiple times.

“When did you even learn how to do that?” he queried, because before Remus revealed himself to Thomas, a majority of the interactions he used to see between the Creativities consisted of medieval duels.

“Oh, well we were on this quest in the Imagination,” Roman began, and that was already a plot twist. Last he checked, each brother was banned from the other’s side unless given explicit permission to enter. Of course, that didn’t mean the rule was actually followed (it wasn’t). But before he could continue, steam started escaping from his ears.

“Unfortunately, a wizard banned us from ever saying what happened that day, so it’s a pain in the ass to explain. I’d try writing it down, but I don’t want my morningstar to be dyed pink.” Usually Remus was immune to curses, since he didn’t mind if horrible or weird things happened to him. But the bastard of a wizard had personalized the curse to do things that actually bugged him, like covering his sketchbooks in cute cat stickers. He was tempted to donate it to Patton, but the paternal Side probably wouldn’t have been too appreciative of the drawings within.

Virgil looked up from where he was spreading out a tarp in preparation for the messy craft. “So I’ll never know?” The twins just shrugged in unison.

“Eh, I guess that’s fair. Three Sides, three things we refuse to explain, all checks out.”

---

@platonicsidesweek

#platonicsides2024 #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

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danielmolloystits · 2 months ago

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reprise. (armand/daniel, 1/3)

Summary:

Armand thinks himself great at first impressions. He ought to be, having spent so many years twisting himself into whatever shape most pleases. But when he met Daniel, he had already shattered into the pieces of himself that are loud, insincere, cruel. The pieces that are not worth loving, some part of his mind whispers, in a voice that could belong to Louis or to Lestat or to any number of others whom he has tried to fit inside of himself and keep, an endeavor which has only ever ended in the same blistering disappointment. And now—as he is sitting in the wreckage of another failed attempt at shaping himself into a home, covered in plaster dust from an outburst of rage only a fraction as bright as that which he deserved—now all there is left in front of him is Daniel. — Armand, Daniel, and the monsters memory makes of us.

Pairing: Armand/Daniel (Devil's Minion) WC: ~2,900 Rating: T (for now)

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew. –Jack Gilbert, “Failing and Flying”

Armand thinks himself great at first impressions. He ought to be, having spent so many years twisting himself into whatever shape most pleases.

However, he fears he is only ever capable of rendering a portrait of himself in stained glass; a fragile composition of disparate color, something which might trick the eye into perceiving beauty in the right light, from the right distance. But up close, he is far less compelling, nothing more than a collection of contrasting elements fractured along plainly visible fault lines. Liable to fall apart at any moment.

When he met Daniel in 1973, he didn’t even get the mercy of a good first impression. When he met Daniel, he had already shattered into the pieces of himself that are loud, insincere, cruel. The pieces that are not worth loving, some part of his mind whispers, in a voice that could belong to Louis or to Lestat or to any number of others whom he has tried to fit inside of himself and keep, an endeavor which has only ever ended in the same blistering disappointment.

And now—as he is sitting in the wreckage of another failed attempt at shaping himself into a home, covered in plaster dust from an outburst of rage only a fraction as bright as that which he deserved—now all there is left in front of him is Daniel. All there is left is the impression he was never able to get right.

But oh, how he tried. Though of course, Daniel doesn’t remember any of that. Doesn’t remember the moonlit nights spent meandering down countless city streets, doesn’t remember the breathless conversations about art and poetry and philosophy, doesn’t remember how their bodies slotted together nice and neat like one of those puzzles Daniel enjoys so much. All he remembers is that first botched introduction and the messy present. The pieces of Armand that are not worth loving.

He doesn’t remember the fact that he managed to love them anyway.

Daniel’s first words to him after Louis quits the apartment are, “I’m not staying.”

“Okay,” Armand replies, voice empty of anything other than consonants, vowels. He didn’t expect him to. Why would he? Armand has had more experience than most in being left.

“I mean it,” Daniel says, clearly irritated. As though he thinks Armand doesn’t believe him. “You’ve made your own goddamn bed here, and it’s about time you lied in it.”

“Okay,” Armand repeats. “Then go.”

And Daniel turns to leave, and Armand closes his eyes and steels himself in preparation for the sound of another door closing. For the void in his life where Daniel is supposed to be to once more be occupied by grief. But the seconds tick by and it never comes. When Armand opens his eyes again he sees Daniel’s trembling hand hovering delicately over the knob.

He doesn’t face Armand as he asks, “Is there more? That you took from me?”

It’s been a few days since he last fed, so when Armand’s heart begins to flutter an anxious rhythm beneath his breast, the beat of it is soft and silent like a hummingbird’s wings. But he can feel it nonetheless, the feral hope that seizes in him at Daniel’s question.

Because he has long since squandered the opportunity to make a good impression on Daniel; this much he knows. (Not that he’s certain that he even still wants to, with everything the man has taken from him. Every castle of Armand’s that he has unbuilt, every careful tower rent asunder.) But perhaps he can make him remember, make him understand the extent of what Armand has lost here. Perhaps that is something he can hold onto, in his forthcoming solitude: something that is, if not redemptive, then at least explanatory of why he went to the lengths he did.

It will make no difference in the end, of course; Armand will still be alone, still drowning in sorrow, still lost and without any direction as to solid ground. But he will be seen, and he thinks that might be enough.

Ten minutes later and Daniel is sitting across from him, hands gripping to either arm of his chair. His fingers are flexing and tensing, as if it’s the only thing keeping him from doing something more destructive with his energy. “So.” He says it like he’s hammering a nail into a coffin. “You erased more of my memories.”

“Yes,” Armand agrees. He does not elaborate; he will only give Daniel as much as he asks for and no more. This is the bargain he has struck with himself, and in the more docile parts of his consciousness he can pretend it is so as not to overwhelm the man with too much information at once. In truth, the part of him that is an animal knows it is because the longer he can drag out his explanation, the longer Daniel will have to stay here with him.

Still, it is difficult to contain all of it within himself. So much emotion to hold, and he its sole beast of burden for nigh on forty years.

“How much more?”

“A lot.”

Daniel doesn’t appreciate his obstinance and makes no secret of it. “Are you actually planning on answering any of my questions, or do you get off on wasting my time?”

Out of spite, the vampire waits a little too long to respond to that. “Twelve years worth, give or take,” he says when he finally relents. Daniel’s eyes bore into him, frigid and unimpressed. Armand pauses before adding, “I didn’t erase all of it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Daniel sighs, exasperation written like a litany into every line of his face, with horror carved underneath it like an ode. “As if that makes it any better.”

Armand thinks it does, but he supposes it isn’t his place to decide.

“When did it start?” Daniel asks. “The twelve fucking years of my life that you robbed from me.”

In the privacy of his own mind, Armand repeats the conclusion he can’t help but come to every time he tries to answer that for himself. Out loud, he says, “You already know when it started.”

“1973.” It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” The word curls around Daniel’s tongue slowly, deliberately. Measured with the same attentiveness as one of his infusions. Measured with an attentiveness he never afforded to any of his other doses. “Why?”

“Because Louis was right,” Armand tells him, and his lips almost slant upwards for a moment before he smothers the expression; the smile feels too much like it’s been stolen for him to be comfortable wearing it. “You are fascinating.”

“Yeah, right.” Daniel scowls, and Armand doesn’t need to read his mind to notice the spike of anger that runs through him. “Quit stalling; just tell me how it happened.”

As best as Armand can summarize it, their story started like this: Daniel nothing more than a receptacle for his worst impulses, all that had long been broken between him and Louis made manifest in flesh and rapidly-dwindling blood. A scared boy in an apartment in Divisadero, on his knees and on the ground and altogether so beneath Armand that he hardly even warranted a second thought.

It started as a revenge plot or a horror film, depending on your perspective. An ending or an ending narrowly avoided. A tattoo or a scar.

It also started like this: the aftermath of obsession, a quest to understand a captivation that belonged more to himself than it did Louis. Hiding and observing from a distance until Daniel finally caught him. Until he finally caught Daniel.

And then it started again, with every gentle touch and every smile earned and every single breath that Daniel ever took when they were together. It started again, and again, and again, a perpetual novelty of shared experience. A fathomless depth of feeling. A life rebuilt from the ashes of an eternity of death.

But in those moments of weakness where he lets himself prod at the still-tender wound Daniel’s absence has gifted him, he thinks it truly started when Daniel first said I love you.

This is not the version of the story that Armand tells him.

“At first, I was just trying to keep an eye on you, out of precaution,” Armand says, matter of fact. He doesn’t enjoy this part of the story. “Louis had insisted I allow you to retain the memory of what we were, and it concerned me.”

“So you stalked me,” Daniel concludes, not incorrectly. “Couldn’t let your precious secret spill because some stupid kid has a big mouth.”

“Not how I would have phrased it, precisely, but yes.” Armand does smile now, a small, wistful thing. “You were a risk. A loose end.”

“Then why didn’t you just kill me?” Daniel leans forward somewhat, his elbows on his knees. “It would have been a hell of a lot more convenient.”

“Louis requested that I not,” Armand says, even though it’s only half true.

Daniel, as ever, is too clever not to notice. “Bullshit; you could’ve just wiped his mind, made him forget I ever existed. It’s not like you’re above it.”

Armand can’t pretend that doesn’t smart a bit, even if it is merited. “I don’t know,” he amends, and it is the most honest answer he can give but he can tell Daniel is still skeptical. “All these years later and I’m still not sure why I didn’t.”

“All right, then what happened after, once you realized I wasn’t a threat?” Daniel asks, though it is clear he intends on circling back to hunt fruitlessly for a more satisfying response to that question. That is fine by Armand; more time spent on useless inquiries allows him to delay the inevitable for longer. “Because it sure as shit didn’t take you twelve years to figure that out.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Armand retorts darkly, eyes cutting to the dent in his wall. If he weren’t so desperate not to be by himself right now, he might expend more effort being angry about everything of his that Daniel has willfully destroyed. “I think you have more than proven yourself a capable threat, Mr. Molloy.”

“Answer the question,” Daniel says insistently, his mounting impatience evident. “And cut the ‘Mr. Molloy’ crap.”

Armand would roll his eyes if such a vulgar gesture were not so beneath him. “Fine, Daniel.” He means it to come out biting, but the familiar intimacy of using the name softens the word as it falls off his tongue. There’s a reason he’d been avoiding it. “One day, you noticed me following you and confronted me.”

This is the version of the story that Armand tells: he had been trailing Daniel for months, lurking from the depths of the shadows in alleyways or staying a comfortable number of paces behind him on the street. He had tracked him halfway across Europe, from Lisbon to Madrid to Vienna to Berlin. Until one night, with a lurch in his step from the liquor and a restless bouncing in his legs from the cocaine, Daniel lumbered his way to a bench on the sidewalk and plopped down onto it. Then, he looked Armand directly in the eye and gestured for him to join him.

“I know you’re there,” he had muttered, low and flippant under his breath. “I know what you are. You might as well come sit.”

Taken aback by the bluntness of the accusation, Armand hadn’t moved.

“You’ve been following me for a while now,” Daniel continued, presenting a front of bravery despite the frenetic vibrations in his nervous system, so sharp and chemical that Armand could almost taste them from a block away. “And I don’t just mean tonight; I saw you in Vienna, too. Why?”

(In that moment, Armand had been struck by Daniel’s curiosity in the face of danger, his overpowering need to know, to discover; even now, he finds it one of his more laudable qualities. The same drive that compels mankind to the depths of the ocean and the reaches of the cosmos. To build a plane and fly it, too; a surety in one’s own hands, one’s own mind, that Armand has never quite mastered in spite of all his years. He declines to say as much out loud, however.)

The vampire ignored Daniel’s question in favor of speaking inside of his head, issuing a warning borne of mercy and little else: You do not want me to come over there.

Daniel, in his infinite irreverence, let out a startled laugh. “Dude, how did you do that?”

In spite of his habitually neutral exterior, Armand could not quite hide his incredulity. Is that sincerely your greatest concern right now?

No, Daniel thought slowly, loudly, clearly testing out the waters of their telepathic connection. My greatest concern is the vampire that’s been following me around like a lost puppy for weeks now.

Five months, actually, Armand corrected, and he could feel a bemused grin settle over his features at the strange boldness of the interaction.

Shit, really?

Yes.

Bafflingly, Daniel seemed to have exchanged any lingering fear for a nervous sort of excitement at the prospect. Why?

I’ve been… Armand paused, unsure of how to finish that particular sentence. He tried again: You intrigue me.

At that, Daniel raised an eyebrow. You need to find a hobby, man.

Armand grinned wider, baring his teeth. I have.

***

“‘You intrigue me’ was not a real answer to that question,” Daniel interjects in the present. He doesn’t have his legal pad, but Armand can see his hand twitching in want of taking notes. It’s oddly flattering, he thinks, to be the subject of that impulse; perhaps, with the benefit of hindsight, he can understand some of Louis’s attraction to the interview process. “So what was?”

“It’s as real of an answer as I was capable of giving,” Armand says. “As I am capable of giving.”

After a beat, Daniel deadpans, “Nah, I call horseshit on that.”

“Is it really so difficult to believe that I might not know everything of my own motivations?” Armand cocks his head, before laughing quietly to himself. It is a sound altogether more resigned than it is haughty. “I know you think me a monster, Daniel—and a cold and calculating one at that—but you must remember I was a person once. I am cursed with all of the inadequacies and contradictions that that entails.”

“Don’t sell yourself so short,” Daniel quips, harsh and sarcastic. “Your inadequacies run way deeper than any human I’ve ever met.”

Armand graciously decides to let that slide. “You didn’t answer the question, either,” he says instead.

“Yeah, well.” The journalist shrugs. “I’m the one who’s meant to be asking them.”

“I suppose I’ll grant you that,” Armand replies, tone thoughtful. “But perhaps you could indulge me just this once.”

He can tell Daniel wants to snipe back at him, can hear the uncharitable words on the tip of his tongue as clearly as if he actually voiced them: Your spoiled ass has been indulged enough for ten lifetimes. Aloud, he says, “All right. Fine. Let’s say I believe you.” His gaze is unwavering where it meets Armand’s. “How did five months turn into twelve years?”

The truthful answer to that will be no easier for Daniel to swallow than the last, he knows. He says it anyway. “We fell in love.”

Daniel barks a disbelieving laugh, and Armand was expecting it but it still spears him through the gut. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m happy to leave.”

The pain twists, contorts. He is hollow and aching, like his bones are bird bones, like he’s being carved out from the inside. “I am being deadly serious.”

“Okay, well maybe you had some fucked up, stalker-y sort of obsession, but—”

“You loved me back,” Armand interrupts, because he doesn’t care if Daniel believes him, because in the end it doesn’t really matter whether he says it or not. It is already leaking out of him, a drip in a faucet that beats a steady rhythm until it pounds into the skull. “We were in love, regardless of if you choose to accept it.”

“I don’t.”

Armand takes a steadying breath, bears down against the hurt and powers through. He’s done it before, after all. He’s done it through worse. “I can show you. I can make you remember.”

Daniel is quiet for a long time, and Armand knows he’s trying to come up with a reason to say no. Eventually he settles on one: “How could I be sure you’re not just manipulating my mind again?”

The vampire shrugs. It’s a fair question. “You can’t. But you can’t be sure I’m not lying about any of this, either, and that hasn’t stopped you yet.”

Another beat that is too long for Armand’s liking. Then, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

A shaky exhale, followed by a resolute nod. “Yeah.”

Armand smiles, a fragile little thing that feels entirely too vulnerable for his liking. He can’t help it. “Okay.”

#iwtv #my fic #devil's minion #devils minion #armandaniel #iwtv armand #daniel molloy #iwtv daniel #armand x daniel

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goodluckclove · 8 months ago

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Edgar Gallows Blog Takeover - Intro Post!

Uh - hi! Hello!

I don't really know what I'm doing here or why I'm doing it, but Scott told me there's no way he's trying this unless he sees me do it first. And if Scott's not doing it Tenzin won't be comfortable enough to try either - really, Katy's the only one here comfortable chatting to strangers. It's a delicate web otherwise.

But yeah, my name is Edgar. I'm 30 and I live in New Orleans. Scott and I looked up what people put in intro posts like these and a lot of them had genders and pronouns, so let's just say I have both of those and not go any deeper than that.

I've worked in a few tourist-y traps in NOLA, mostly back of house doing prep and assembly work. Right now I'm a bartender and I'm great at it. I'm the best in the world. I've won awards. You can lie on the internet without consequence, right?

I should say that I am ex-Academy. I won't say which one for the sake of anonymity (And - let's face it - my own safety as well). I wasn't expelled or discharged or whatever. Technically I wasn't even released. I don't practice anymore, or really keep up with the news and politics of Academic witchcraft, so don't expect me to get into it unprompted.

Interests

I don't think there's a genre of music that I don't love, but I'm a big fan of funk, disco, new wave and Japanese city pop. Talking Heads is my favorite band of all time.

I'm a self-taught chef. I think I'm pretty good at it. I also bake, which I am less good at. Those skills do not transfer like you might think they do.

Scott's looking over my shoulder and he's telling me to mention that I like birds. I do. I feel weird saying that because I don't really know that many bird facts for anything other than my few favorites (Goldfinches and Buntings). I just like looking at them.

I say that I play video games but the only video game I'm remotely good at is Old School Runescape, which I don't think is that cool to say.

Things to Ask me About?

I would love to talk about cooking or food. This could be to give advice, recipe suggestions, food pairings, knife skills - ask me something as simple as how to scramble an egg and I'd be happy to share my technique.

In regards to the Academy, I will say that I'm Legacy and so I never actually enlisted. If you're thinking of going down that path at your own branch, I worked at the University of mine as a librarian for maybe five years, so I got a good perspective as to what the process looks like. I'm open to offering insight and tentative guidance if you aren't weird.

Scott says I should mention that I'm also a birthright. He's really the one that has more authority to talk about that since he actually grew up in a witch town, but apparently he has a lot of opinions on how I should do this for someone who barely understands how the internet works.

He's watching me type now. Fuck it, you can ask me about Scott too if you want. I assumed I was straight until about a week ago. Now I seem to have bagged myself an ethereal magical boyfriend. He saw me use the voice command on my Pixel and now he makes me say goodnight to my goddamned cell phone before we go to sleep. I love him.

DNI List

I heard admission rates for Academies hit a major spike recently, and I'm just putting it out there that I really would rather not debate anyone super invested in the "mission statement" of their local University. The newer members never seem to realize that the culture of the Academy differs like crazy depending where you are, and because of that there really isn't the kind of centralization they claim exists to Junior Members.

Also - and this might be a divisive take - but I was born into this world. I spent decades of my life in the Academy. I truly do not care about the opinion of someone who trained for two years after joining straight out of high school. I won't block you, but I will send your username and any comments you make to my friend who is far more Anti-Academy than I am (Hi, Katy).

Anyway that's all! I look forward to posting things today and maybe talking to some new people! I hope everyone is nice and not weird and I do not regret this happening!

who is this? why is this happening? check out the pinned post on my blog to learn more!

#songbird blog takeover #writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #authors of tumblr #queer writers #actually writing #blind trust #writing #oc rp #edgar posting

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goshdangronpa · 9 months ago

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Sayaka Maizono!!

Hi, anon! I'm so glad someone asked about her, she's always fun to think about. A character you can really play around with in different contexts and interpretations. It's weird that I haven't written a story about her yet.

Sexuality Headcanon: Sayaka is straight-up gay. I saw that one bit from Danganronpa S, they're no way she could like Makoto as more than a friend!

Gender Headcanon: Cis, but the type who's actually thought a lot about gender rather than passively assuming that vagina = girl. I believe she'd support a transfem idol ... so long as she remains the Ultimate.

A ship I have with said character: I recently wrote about a couple of reasons why I find ikuzono so appealing! It can be a real mutually healing relationship, with two people who've hurt and been hurt finding solace and sympathy and redemption in each other. It can also be a relationship where they bury bodies together. I've also read a truly great (and tragically incomplete) series that anyone who likes Sayaka, Mukuro, and good writing in general should check out: Sing Me a Song of Despair!

A BROTP I have with said character: Sayaka's goal is to be an inspiration for girls and women. All girls and women. As a transfem Chihiro supporter, I quite enjoy the idea of this embodiment of femininity helping Chihiro reconcile some of her gender hang-ups. Women with strength don't have to be ripped like Sakura, athletic like Aoi, or scary like Genocide Jack. They can be beautiful, sweet, girly, confident, and determined like Sayaka. I think her support would really shake Chihiro's worldview ... though Sayaka might still agree with her that it's a dog-eat-dog world out there.

A NOTP I have with said character: Sayaka is virtually the only female Danganronpa student I wouldn't ship with Ibuki, mostly because I'm really committed to a rather detailed sayabuki arc that ends in turmoil. Two teen girls hit the big time at the same time, and their managers get the bright idea of pairing their acts in a summer package tour. As they travel across the country and work hard to one-up each other's performances, they show each other the weirder sides of themselves that the public doesn't get to see. They bond over a mutual passion for music ... and, one night, discover a mutual passion for girls. It doesn't take long for them to start exploring their sexuality together, snatching kisses and cuddles in the rare moments when they can evade their bandmates and entourages. Ibuki lets herself fall wildly in love ... but Sayaka's keenly aware that the tour will end. One night, after sneaking onto the roof of a supermarket after hours to have a truly private moment and watch the stars, Sayaka asks, "You know this won't last ... right?" She lays it out: idols aren't allowed to date anybody, much less someone of the same sex, and she won't compromise her career or her dream over a little summer affair. Ibuki’s devastated. It proves to be the last push she needs to drop her own pretenses and be her true, freaky self, ultimately splitting the band and creating the rock iconoclast we know and love. Sayaka would still think about her sometimes, even listen to her new singles when few former fans would, wonder if that girl was right that prioritizing her career over her relationships may bring success but not fulfillment ... She doesn't regret anything.

A random headcanon: Sayaka didn't accept the invitation to Hope's Peak immediately because she feared it would eat up precious time in a career that's already expected to end in her late 20s at most. She eventually accepted for precisely that reason: that Ultimate status will open doors long after the industry stops seeing her as youthful enough to sing on stage.

General Opinion over said character: I'm of two minds, and both are extremely positive. 1) How can anyone possibly dismiss Sayaka as a loathesome snake when the entire goddamn point of that first murder trial is that the killing game, one of the most stressful and extreme situations a human being and especially a literal kid could ever face, could compel even an otherwise kind person to commit murder? You don't have to like her for her attempt at murdering Leon and framing Makoto, but if you don't buy that Sayaka was ever a nice person, I reckon you've missed the point of Danganronpa. 2) Sayaka has a devious and coldly pragmatic side ... and that's fun. I like the idea that she's generally kind and sweet, but a bit of a sneaky bitch when she really wants something or really doesn't care for someone. In a non-despair AU, this would be ripe for drama and especially comedy! Let her be little a snake, as a treat🐍

#sayaka maizono #danganronpa #trigger happy havoc #thh #Sayaka is a snake (positive)#ikuzono #mukuro ikusaba #chihiro fujisaki #ibuki mioda #sayabuki (break-up arc)#thanks for asking!!#headcanons

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btm-txt · 4 months ago

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Love the Sonic movies or hate them I think the most important part about them regardless is that they bring Sonic as a whole into the popular mainstream. Ultimately creating more content and merchandise for the franchise.

As a kid/teen that was OBSESSED with Sonic even though the games and comics were popular enough it still was a rather niche fandom.

Merchandise was hard to find which always made me incredibly heartbroken, and the few pieces of merch that I could get my hands on were plain T-shirts or shitty quality plushies that I treasured.

Not only that, the fandom itself wasn’t as accepted either, I can’t tell you how many times I got mocked for liking Sonic or gotten the odd looks and disappointed eye rolls from my family, which ultimately made me distance myself from the fandom all together as I got older.

And that’s not even getting into the online space surrounding the fandom as a whole, the mocking, the harassment, and bullying of young artists for committing the atrocious sin of making -gasp- mary-su ocs and -double gasp- shipping them with their favorite canon characters ‘Shadow the Hedgehog would never!!’ -clutches pearls-

All joking aside it was a shit time to be a kid that liked Sonic, everyone thought you were either cringe or the goddamn fandom antichrist.

I bring this up because in a way the second Sonic movie sparked my interest back into the fandom. The first movie came and went and I couldn’t care less about it, I had moved on from the fandom for years now.

It wasn’t until my sister really wanted me to watch the second movie with her in theaters because she remembered how much I loved sonic that I caved and watched it with low expectations. I know it’s silly, but watching it reminded me of the little things that I loved about Sonic and the fandom behind it, seeing Super Sonic on the big screen really resonated with me and really made me rethink about these characters in a way I haven’t thought of in years.

Now as an adult I can really see the shift in the pop culture surrounding Sonic and it’s mostly because of the popularity of the movies. Now I can find sonic merch essentially anywhere, from the mall, to the grocery store, shit even Amazon has same-day delivery Sonic merch. It’s incredible! I now have the ability to collect all the sonic action figures my teen self would cry over, on top of so much cool stuff out there from stickers, to clothing, to plushes, lamps, stationary supplies, literally anything both fandom made AND official merchandise. My inner child is thriving!

But beyond that, the effect of these movies resonating with kids just creates a whole new love for these characters. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve overheard kids in the mall talk about sonic and sonic characters with genuine excitement and have somebody else join in the excitement from their peers to their parents, its really heartwarming to see honestly.

I hesitantly wore one of my Sonic shirts to work expecting some snarky comments from my coworkers about me liking Sonic, only to have them respond in excitement from ‘omg Shadow? I love him he’s so cool!’ To ‘omg my kids LOVE Sonic and are so obsessed with him!’ which genuinely took me aback at the sheer positivity of it all and the great conversations I’ve had with people over it rather than being joked on.

All this to say is that I understand the autistic hyper fixation on certain pieces of media and characters in general (trust me I love the Archie comics but looking at KP’s new work literally gives me psychic damage and I avoid it like the plague) but you have to realize that Sonic at the end of the day is a franchise its not just one thing, and in regards to the movies they aren’t made for the old school fans they are made FOR CHILDREN, specifically children who don’t know who or what Sonic is. I know it can be hard to forget especially with all the easter eggs and inside jokes for the fandom but these movies are for kiddos to get introduced to Sonic as a whole.

Is there better Sonic media out there? YES. But realistically not everyone has access to the video games, or the comics, or have Netflix to watch a show. While going to the movies is a dying breed its still one of the most accessible ways of getting family entertainment and introducing kids to new stories and new pieces of media. I don’t usually post my thoughts out there but seeing the fandom discourse over the movies just makes my eyes roll. Don’t like the live action stuff? cool totally valid, move on, there’s no need to shit on other people’s fun or ruminate on things you hate.

This fandom already has a sea of creators doing their own projects and storylines with these characters that in my opinion are leagues better than anything canon can come up with.

I like Sonic, I like Sonic merch, I like seeing the excitement of new people coming into the fandom and making their own fun. While I personally hate Sonic interacting in the human world and having human companions (hated it since Sonic X baby) If the movies is what’s keeping the Sonic train alive and thriving fuck it we ball. At the end of the day the movies aren’t made for me they are made to make money for kids to be entertained.

I personally can’t wait to see Shadow on the big screen regardless, I’m interested to see how they end up adapting his story for the movie. I know in my heart of hearts that’s not the same Shadow I grew up with but honestly Shadow hasn’t been the same since they took away his guns.

Actually none of the characters are the same for each interpretation of their stories from the comics, to the video games, to the big screen they are not the same and I’m at peace with that, its like everything has its own AU and I love multi universe stuff in general.

Ramble over, just wanted to put some thoughts out there that were rattling on my mind. I get that this is the complaining website but seeing post after post of this discourse feels like there’s a point that is missing, I understand emotional attachment to a franchise but keeping a franchise alive is also a huge plus for the fandom as a whole. More movies fans = more people in the fandom, more people in the fandom means more interest in the content, more interest in the content means more content wether it be in more movies, shows, comics, video games, merch, ect.

I like Sonic content and I want to see more of it. 💙

TLDR: Whether or not you like the sonic movies it keeps Sonic as a franchise alive in the pop culture and ends up creating more content and merchandise in general. The movies themselves aren’t made for diehard fans they are made for this generation of children who are new to the franchise as a whole who probably didn’t have access to the video games or other forms of media to discover Sonic. I understand the emotional attachment to this franchise and its characters but making post after post complaining about a piece of media you don’t like is generally unproductive and shits on people’s fun unnecessarily. You’ll have a better time cherishing and celebrating the pieces of media or headcanons you love most as opposed to ruminating on things you hate or upset you.

#You are not compelled to form any opinion about this matter before you nor to disturb your peace of mind at all...#...Things in themselves have no power to extort a verdict from you.#@ me says ramble is over -> keeps on typing #genuinely thriving in this Sonic era #-Marcus Aurelius #here's my 10 cents my 2 cents is free #btm.txt

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inun4ki · 1 year ago

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i was thinking a bit about the shikabane massacre.

the shikabane clan was isolated from jujutsu society for a very long time ( we're talking a couple centuries ), so even after they were reintroduced in the 1800s, they'd have been extremely secretive about how they operate. trust issues are a feature, not a bug, literally bred into their bloodline so as to maintain a certain degree of separation from other sorcerers, especially when it comes to any who would try to exert authority over their clan. they avoided external influence clear until the 1990s, really only cooperating with other clans and sorcerers in ways that made sense to them. because of this inherent reluctance and lack of trust, they're sort of an 'island' - on their own, with too few sorcerers to provide to the pool and keep hold of their position as a once 'great' clan.

hence why it was so easy for them to collapse. and when they collapsed, i'd say the news was less of a shock and more of a depressing but fitting end to them as a whole. even after reintroducing themselves to jujutsu society, they couldn't get over certain aspects of their character and so were left to figure their shit out on their own - to literally everyone's detriment. they had no allies, only tentative acquaintances too put off by their overbearing attitudes and unreachable expectations to go any further than that ( each clan head was sort of impossible; the good ones just wanted the absolute best and nothing else for their loved ones, and the bad ones always had ulterior motives (as we can see with taisho), so arranged marriages never happened, the clan did not expand unless it went outside where they could sort of bully whoever into doing what they wanted ).

but how much would jujutsu society even know? enough. i think certain people would know everything about it - namely the higher-ups, maybe people who have a knack for knowing things they probably shouldn't. but most would probably only know that there was a massacre at the shikabane estate resulting in the almost complete annihilation of the clan. they did everything in their power to obfuscate the truth, clinging to what dignity they still had - going so far as to omit taisho's role entirely from any explanations. they were too prideful to admit one of their own chose to succumb to the influence of a curse, and that they were entirely ignorant to the curse overall. kurai went especially hard on this, since kaede is as strong as he is ( reputation and all that; they let other sorcerers believe something truly tragic befell the shikabane clan, lying by omission to save face ). i imagine when the news broke, it was surprising so many of them were killed when there'd been plenty of sorcerers in the family to fend off the curse, so they called it a 'handful of 1st grades' and left it at that.

anyway, this secretive and distrusting behavior inevitably extended to kaede, though this has less to do with general clan attitudes and everything to do with how he was treated following the massacre in 1998. everyone set the blame on his shoulders, forced him to accept the responsibility of fixing it, so he's never spoken about it and probably never will, not even to set the record straight when he's got nothing left to lose. external blame became internal and personal, and why would he want anyone to know he 'allowed' his clan to be destroyed? why would he tell anyone that what happened was his fault, that he could've done something but simply chose not to? he really couldn't have done anything, he was goddamn 6, but that's not the point; he believes it's his fault. he believes he could've done something. he believes it's his responsibility. and in doing so, this inadvertantly protected the clan's pride, allowing yet more to fester within it.

anyway, all i'm trying to say is that it would be extremely difficult to get this information out of kaede, and that most people just wouldn't know any of the specifics about what happened. just that there was a curse that massacred most of their clan on account of how tight-lipped, prideful, and secretive they are. i think, though, it would be reasonable to assume some details would leak, like, say, taisho was involved and was also very mentally unstable. 1 + 1 = 2 type shit. it wouldn't be especially difficult to connect the dots, but no one is gonna say 'you're getting hotter' when whoever's drawing the lines figures it out. s'all i'm saying.

#死/// Headcanon.#death /#/ like if it takes being 4 seconds away from death for him to admit he loves someone #/ it'll take actually dying for him to admit anything about his family history r.i.p.

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zerochanges · 2 years ago

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2022 Favorite Video Games

Another year, another instance of me not really putting in the time I used to for this favorite hobby of mine. Yup it’s true, 2023 was once again a year I really did not play a lot of games in. I found myself fairly busy and not having as much time as I would have liked to play games. Sadly it has been really difficult for me to manage time in my adult life as of late, and often I see what free time I do have going towards other hobbies with more immediate pay off. With all that said though I really wish I could be back to gaming like I used to be when I was younger. I like to think what I did play was at least of high quality but with my taste that might not quite be true. I suppose I should let you be the judge of what I wasted my 2022 on. What I did play I wanted to talk about , so although it’s not really much, I hope it still makes for an interesting read.

AI the Somnium Files: nirvanA Initiative

The first the AI the Somnium Files was a revolutionary title, no it didn’t do anything to change the landscape of visual novels, and no the narrative wasn’t ground breaking, it was revolutionary because of one thing: Kotaro Uchikoshi finally got a game with a good goddamn budget! Woo boy, you dunno how good that felt, the man is a legend and has created some of the best visual novels in the industry but the last couple generations seemed like no matter what he just couldn’t get major backing.

I’m really glad the first AI happened, and I generally had a lot of fun with this second entry in the series as well, but I couldn’t help but feel a lot of the magic was gone from the first game. That isn’t to say, AI Ni, as the game has been dubbed, is a worse game; just that the first AI was exciting and I didn’t know what to make of it but now I have certain expectations from a sequel and AI Ni more or less met them all just as I thought it would. The game play is a bit more polished, and some puzzles felt a little more fair this time than in the first but besides that, under the hood it’s just what you’d expect.

I definitely did enjoy a lot of the new characters introduced in AI Ni, it was a smart decision to really center about half the game on an all new cast--and I thought they were just as dynamic and interesting as the characters from the first game. It helped that their interactions with the original cast made for some material that we couldn’t have see in the first AI game too. The main premise and murder behind the game is also some grade-A fun Uchikoshi, the man is always able to write great sci-fi goobly gunk in such a fun way that I just will always love the his work. Basically, if you liked the first AI you’ll like this one. And that’s all I have to say about AI Ni for better or for worse.

Chaos;Head: Noah

The year was 2008 and I was nearly finished with High School. I was in the peak of my youth, and at the time couldn’t be a bigger weeb if I tried. I stumbled across this one interesting anime, based on a game I never heard of. It’s a visual novel and I had only just recently got into those games because of the many excellent ones released on the Nintendo DS. I can’t wait to try this out. That anime was Chaos;Head and oh boy did it begin a new chapter of my life.

I don’t know how to stress this enough, there was no market for this stuff back when it came out. Fan translations were incredibly slow too, and often involved having to run some Japanese's version of windows and even then only certain routes had English patches and the other parts of the game were still in Japanese and it was a mess. I can’t even fathom that I finally can own this! And that it is in English!

Chaos;Head is the original and progenitor of the science; adventure series otherwise known as that series that Steins;Gate was in. In a way it makes a lot of sense why Steins;Gate took off to such explosive levels of popularity and overshadowed this game, but that also is kind of what makes Chaos;Head special.

It’s so much grittier and more violent, it has a lot less mainstream appeal to it than Steins;Gate with an immediately lovable and quirky cast. Instead you have an incredibly flawed protagonist like Takumi who is an insanely flawed individual that manages to grow into somebody better. He has no self esteem, agoraphobia, and chooses to run away into fantasy from anything difficult. Plus he exhibits all the toxic traits of the fandom at that time but that makes sense since he completely devotes himself to said nerd culture in his attempts at avoiding reality. He’s a difficult character but honestly one of the best examples of a flawed protagonist and unreliable narrator in video games, hands-down.

Light Fairytale Episode 1

I ended up stumbling upon this game completely by accident. Being a love letter to the classic PSOne era JRPGs and essentially being made by one guy really endeared it to me. Episode 1 is pretty short, maybe only 2 hours or so but it’s a brisk well produced vertical slice of a realized game, and I had my fun with it. No, it’s not fantastic or anything, but it really helped to entertain me one weekend and I ended up playing it twice even, the second time with the perspective of the main heroine. There’s a lot of personality in the game and it’s obviously a passion project which really shows. Trust me, I buy Kemco RPGs I know the whole “cheap profit off nostalgia” grift better than anyone, so when true passion is there, you really have fun with the game.

Pokémon Violet

It’s really easy to dunk on Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. I know I did. These games are a mess!!! What a glitchy and bug ridden, unfinished, and lacking polish game. And this is one of the most profitable and beloved IPs the world has! What even is going on?! It’s easy to feel jaded and hate the game for it. Honestly the game does nothing to win you over when you start playing it. But if you give it time, damn, they really did deliver a good game after all. I know that’s a bit shit, right? “Oh the game is bad, but if you play it enough it becomes good!” I know, I know. If anyone told me that about any old random game I wouldn’t want to bother with it and think they’re an obsessed fan that doesn’t want to admit the shortcomings of their fave series. But in Pokémon's case, it’s true! Or shit, maybe I am an obsessed fan that doesn’t want to admit the shortcomings of one of my fave series. One or the other.

Honestly it’s a tragedy the development was so rushed and that it runs as poorly as it does with so many glitches. By the end of the game you can really see how creative and inspired GameFreak was. They begin to do stuff I always wanted to see them do in Pokémon games. The story begins to really take shape and becomes one of the best plots the series had since Sun & Moon. The game play loop becomes even more fun and rewarding, and worth all the bugs to get through for just one more minute. Just one more! I found myself utterly addicted by the closing hours of the game. It’s a shame all this great stuff is tied to such a poorly made game.

Sega Genesis Mini 2

The model of Genesis I grew up with was actually the Model 2, in fact I was so accustomed to the Model 2 I legit never saw the Model 1 Genesis in my entire life until the internet came along. It’s weird, I owned the Model 2. My best friend owned the Model 2. My cousins owned a Model 2. I just thought this was what a Sega Genesis was and that was how they all looked. I didn’t even know it was a Model 2. So naturally, another Sega Genesis Mini console after the incredibly well made first one, and it’s shaped like the Model 2? Sign me the funk up, brother!!!

It also helps that this time around the mini console is packed full of tons of Sega CD games, something the original was lacking in. If anything you might even want to call this the ‘Sega CD Mini’ instead. The game list is pretty solid, though I am bummed about the lack of Lunar games which the Japanese version got and which we didn't. That shit is whack. Also no Snatcher is just downright infuriating, c’mon you negotiated the rights to Castlevania Bloodlines, get off your asses and go back to Konami for Snatcher, it’s only the most prized and expensive Sega CD game ever made, like you know, an easy console seller. I usually never hack my mini consoles and just keep them stock, but yeah if a hack ever comes out I’m adding Snatcher, screw it.

Okay, enough complaining, I love this little guy, it’s a gorgeous mini console, and I know I’m going to end up playing it tons when I can. I love how well it emulates the game, the borders look snazzy on it and the selection has some truly great choices like Crusader of Centy a game I definitely need to play one day. I also appreciate the extra mile M2 went just to get this thing made and how they gave us some quality of life improvements like the ability to switch from the North American and Japanese soundtracks of Sonic CD in menu and a new easy mode for Phantasy Star II.

Shenmue

Like I mentioned in my anime thread, the recent Shenmue anime had me replaying this game again this year and man was it a blast! I really appreciated the insane amount of details the game had and in general the less-than-stellar elements that haven’t aged well only make the game more charming–especially the voice acting. But at its core is such an engaging and ambitious title that really just screams Dreamcast. This was an era full of experimentation and doing things like no one else had. It was an era where companies threw insane money at projects that they would definitely never make it back but who cares, it was now or never. Shenmue encapsulates all of that.

It’s at times a really dumb game with some really jank controls. But it’s also at times a game that feels alive. The sandbox world it represents is tiny, hell even its sequel makes Shenmue 1’s world feel like a joke, and today we have sandboxes the likes of which they couldn’t even dream about when this game was in development, but still somehow everything feels so alive. Interacting with the cast is so good. Learning new martial arts or just about their day, it doesn’t matter, seeing all these NPCs grow and change over time is still special, even today. There’s an insane amount of detail to everything and the amount of interaction the player can have is just stupid at times. You can open cupboards to pull out shelves to pick up an item to turn side item around to read the bottom inscription on said item. It’s a whole lot, games today don’t do that amount of detail, I really appreciate it so much today in 2022.

Who knows if Ryo’s journey will ever find its ending, the future looks just as bleak now as it did when Shenmue 2 originally flopped, but I think anyone who enjoys this era of games should definitely experience the start of this journey.

Xenoblade Chronicles 3

Xenoblade 3 feels like the crowning work of Monolithsoft. It is as if they perfected almost every aspect of their core identity as game developers in this one title. It’s a masterpiece and I don’t mean that lightly. The game provides easily the best combat in the entire Xenoblade series, hell maybe even all Xeno games, I am feeling just that bold. It manages to be just so incredibly fun to play and yet constantly finds ways to keep evolving, even towards the tail end of the game after 60 or 70 hours or so, the game still throws plenty of new elements and refreshes the system and how combat works. It never gets stale and on the flipside never feels overwhelming. Xenoblade 3 is the cumulation of years of work all coming together, even if that wasn’t intentionally so, as a third in a line of games, and as how well crafted as it is, it feels that way--it can’t help but to have that impact. If it weren’t for the staff working on the game being vocal that it isn’t an end to their Xeno games I could even swear this was some grand finale.

Oh and also did I mention you can combine and transform into giant robots?! Like hell yeah, what isn’t there to love about this game?!

The game has one of the most realistic and personal feeling cast in the series. I personally related a lot to the character Taion all throughout the game, but every character manages to be fleshed out and brings an interesting perspective to what we are seeing. At times the plot can get a bit heavy, I kind of swear Tetsuya Takahashi really wanted us all to check out his pretty sweet Gundam fan fic, but this is the kind of stuff I love with these games. The return of super long and well animated cutscenes like the Xenosaga games had really surprised me as well. I know some people aren't crazy for 30 minute long cutscenes, but I dig this stuff.

Overall Xenoblade 3 is very easy for me to call my favorite game of this year. I know I didn’t play many but at least with all the hours of this game behind my belt I feel I can say I chose quality over quantity in this situation. The entire game just feels like a magnum opus for Monolithsoft and Tetsuya Takahashi. I honestly don’t know how they’ll top this one any time soon.

#new years #video games #ai the somnium files #ai the somniun files nirvana initiative #chaos;head #chaos;head noah #light fairytale #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon #pokemon violet #sega genesis #sega genesis mini #sega genesis mini 2 #shenmue #xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade 3

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madefate · 10 months ago

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“You really don’t realize just how many people love you, do you?” @Blitz / Stolas / @hlylight

❝ - Chrissake, Stolas. ❞

He really, really does not want to fucking be here right now. And, of course, it's all his own fault that he is, because that is just a fundamental universal rule at this point that he's unwittingly written into existence by now. Fuck, has he actually always been a life ruining piece of shit ? Blitz assumed that it was a learned thing, but fuck it, maybe it was inevitable. Just something in his blood - maybe Cash's ghost haunting his bones.

Yeah, okay, that's pretty self pitying, but he's too far into his somethingth whiskey to stop himself.

It's been ... quiet. A full moon has come and gone, and his simple u up? text had been met with a polite brush off of busy and he'll just collect it. Which - cool, great, one less night of catering to that needy, feathered ass, and he could just - take a night off. Which may or may not have consisted of sitting on his couch and staring at the wall above the television until day broke, but that's his goddamn right.

This is better. This is what he expected to happen eventually. And at least he's been able to hang onto the book.

It's under his hand right now - another full moon, but when he was met with a diplomatic no to his proposition, Blitz hadn't just ... let it go. In hindsight, he can see where he'd been testing the limit - testing Stolas. That maybe there was an unearned bitterness in his challenge, then cum and get it. if u have ur ways of finding me. And maybe there was a gruesome satisfaction in bringing the fancy grimoire to one of the shadier bars in Imp City, the kind that doesn't care enough to cut you off.

But he knows it's a dick move. He knows he hasn't said anything either - and he knows that anger has always been easier. So Blitz had almost, almost let it go, chalked it up to another screw up in a long list, then the prick had to open his beak and say that.

And he sees a little red.

Liquor has loosened him up. He can hold his own really fuckin' handily, but no one is immune to alcohol entirely, so Blitz sways just a little when he snaps his gaze over to Stolas, boring down on him before slamming his eyes shut. ❝ You don't know shit about me, Stolas. And you sure as fuck don't know about anyone who loves me. ❞ The last of it drips off his tongue like poison. [ does anyone love you, BLITZO ? ]

[ unfortunately, they did once. ]

His claws tap an agitated rhythm on the cover of the book, but he stops himself from making marks. He can't look up at Stolas - at that stupid fucking face that's so soft - he's sure Stolas has been through plenty of his own shit, so how does he get off looking so ... open ? Showing so much feeling ? Speaking in a tone that sounds like he CARES ?

Blitz waves a hazy hand in Stolas' direction. ❝ You made it perfectly clear what you want out of this - so why the fuck do you need to dig deeper right now? God, you really are a masochist if you want to pull the stopper off this and get drenched in the shit that comes up. You're a fuckin' - a fuckin' prince of whatever the hell. ❞ He doesn't quite know where he's going with that, just that the rising tide of bullshit and emotion is starting to rise and his lips are too loosened and his throat aches too much to stop it.

❝ So I get it ! Like, fuck, it's my fault anyway - if anyone does want me, I make sure as shit to make sure they don't by the end. Just because I wanted a night off doesn't mean - it was fine. The arrangement was fine. ❞ He doesn't think about high thread sheets and the smell of lavender and incense in the air and the pillowy down of feathers, except that he does - ❝ And you should know better than anyone how fuckin' terrifying it is to be loved, Prince Feathers ! To have people count on you so you can't just fuck off and disappear. I know that - I know I have people who need me. I thought you were - ❞

Blitz feels his tail lash viciously away from himself in alarm and his face heats up as the words collect behind his fangs, see me, want me, need me.

He stands suddenly, hopping off the bar stool and stumbling for a moment before reaching up to press the book into Stolas' hands, against his chest, looking decidedly at the floor. ❝ Just tell me what you want, okay ? I fuckin' need you - I - fuck, shit, I mean ... ❞ Shit, Jesus Christ Blitz. ❝ ... Just tell me the new arrangement. ❞

#hh tw #( ic. )#( answered. )#( blitz. )#hlylight #well well well. looks like i played myself huh.

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grimmywrites · 2 years ago

Note

what ya think of the new re4 remake? c:

I love it! (Everything below is the opinion of a nerd who is way too into the RE world, btw.)

OG RE4 is my favorite video game ever, and like many I was worrying over every bit of information we were fed. I didn't expect it would be, but the worry that it would be like the RE3 remake was there. Thankfully, I think Capcom knew they had to do this one right.

For me, the game is 10/10. They really upped the horror, the story, and made the difficulty feel welcome. Great enemies, great use of the cult this time around, and the game is absolutely beautiful. Not to mention the sound design is so goddamn perfect. I also love how the soundtrack is similar to the original with the old leitmotifs in some of the music. I love the addition of requests and the expansion of the maps and the exploration in certain chapters.

As a remake 9/10 - I'm aware this is just because of nostalgia filters. It's only because I have a few problems with some of the characters. While I think the tweaks to the story made it stronger and a lot of the characters are so good (I've always loved Ashley even in the OG but I'm glad everyone is taking to her in the remake), some got a raw deal.

It's a touchy subject right now, and I'm going to state: I don't condone harassment or bullying. I do think you can criticize something without being cruel. I'm not a fan of Ada's voice acting, but I can recognize what the actress was going for. I'll leave it to others to speculate. That being said, I feel like they gave her character a lot less to do. I'm hopeful the Separate Ways DLC fixes that. Krauser is... okay. Just okay. (Which disappoints me as someone who likes the metaltango ship; none of that tension was there this time.)

That being said, I think Nick (Leon's VA) did much better this time around for me. Really appreciated the fine line he played between Leon's depression and his cocky jokes. Luis is great with a correct accent and he's very playful (and all the new backstory for him and his involvement in Umbrella is S tier shit). VA for Ashley is very good. Merchant is CHEF'S KISS, god I loved him, I'd go to the shooting range just to hear him praise me in that accent.

I guess my biggest complaint is the big bads? They just feel so removed from the game. I know it's realism they're going for, but I really liked the hacking of Leon's comms in the OG so we could have conversations with them. It showed personality.

Mendez was... there. Tbf he was there in the OG, too. At least he chased us a bit this time. I hated that I didn't SEE his transformation in his boss fight. He didn't feel like a big threat. (And yes, I missed Leon charge kicking him and getting thrown on his ass, god that was so good.)

Salazar talked at me a few times, but he was so much more of a puppet and tool and thus FUNNY in the OG. I liked how frustrated he got. His remake version, again, is fine. I like that Leon just gets fed up and shoots him all the time. He's at least more present than the other two. The change in his boss fight is good, it has more mobility and I like all the tricks to it.

Saddler is probably my biggest disappointment. I love Saddler in the OG. He has so much personality. He's SO charismatic. He's confident and is a presence from when you first meet him in the Church (and before) until you defeat him in the end. He's in the castle and handles shit himself. He *jokes* with Leon and laughs at him. His fight with Ada in Separate Ways is the hardest thing in the game. I dunno, I'm bummed for him, haha. I think making him this devout cult guy as his defining feature kinda diminished him.

One last thing: I wanted the U3 fight. I'm in the minority, I know. I also know rumors and some of the game's files indicate it might be a DLC thing, but that was the only boss fight in the OG that scared me. It was so different than anything I'd ever done, so I wanted to see how they'd tackle it. All well.

Even with these critiques, I genuinely really enjoy the game. I had a huge smile on my face the entire time. I'm not mad about anything; the changes all worked for a remake and a new generation of people playing it. It's great, no matter these few nitpicks. That's all they are, nitpicks, because the game is spectacular. It's beautiful and it's fun and I really recommend people to play it because this is what a remake SHOULD be.

#lol sorry for the long rant #a little too nerdy when it comes to RE #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 remake spoilers #re4 remake #re4 remake spoilers #spoilers #re4 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #my opinion

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cupcakesmoothie · 1 year ago

Text

Liveblog!

Goddamn those must be some sharp ass nails

Wait. CAN they see it??

Yo I'm like half sure those guys are dead MC

LMAO yeah Pantalone is probably listening to all this tea

Is Kappa ok? Probably scared as hell poor baby

MC!! She's so cool omg. Get his ass

????????? Did Theta just fucking LICK her? Taste her blood?

What the fuck is happening. Can he actually not see the thread so he's not sure? Can he actually see it but doesn't quite believe?

!!!

MASK OFF??!!

FUCKING PANTALONE. Grabbing her waist too goddamn

Ahahaaa is that jealously I smell?

Oh shit ok didn't expect him to say that

Like every single goddamn time I read the dialogue I'm like wow these people suck, Theta you good bro?

MC he is not. I wonder if all the segments (or even some of them) got delusions though. I know uh, Rho(?) was using ice powers during the whole Diluc thing though…

Oh ok never mind I guess he has something else

Is. Is that the Archon reside??

What indeed. WHAT JUST HAPPENED

OH SHIT. OH FUCK. DOTTORE!!!!!

DOTTORE POV!!!!!

UGH fuck this guy he's so whipped omfg can only focus on MC mf

Oh wait yeah they still got the senses thing, he could fucking FEEL Theta hurting her

Dottore she's met like. 3 of them. 4 if you count the one who tried to kill her. You are doing a terrible job keeping your secret buddy

Hmm yeah, the way the soulmate system works, a single word could keep reappearing on both of them cause maybe the other is wondering what the hell it's about

Ahahahaaa he's not even give MC the ointment himself. Coward. Thought counts tho

Kappaaaa

Oh Dottore have you TRIED getting a child to let go of something before? That boy is glued to her now. Not yours anymore

I mean, given that MC is the one holding him rn and she's got the tendency to ask questions, I don't think she'd let go of him so easily either

Mmhmmhmmmm :]

HAhaaa question time

EPSILON!!!!!

????? DID THIS GUY JUST- Goddamn Epsilon got rizz

Today just has NOT been Dottore's day, how many of them are left? Lambda, Rho, Delta? Is there anyone else?

Oh, Zeta, forgot about him

Damn the segments don't even treat each other well, and Lambda wants to fucking kill her

Oh this bitch, lock her up??

Bro Pantalone heard EVERYTHING. And he barely did anything

It's very real buddy

Also MC is with the segments right now. Like when this goes back to MC's POV I think it's going SO fun

Pantalone speaking up for her, let's go

Prototype? What's this about? Have I just forgotten something again 💀. I'll check later

MC POV!!!!!!!!!!

Ughhhhhhhhhhhh these kids are so cute. Kappa not letting go of her is PEAK child behaviour. They're all so attached I can't

MC is picking up on a lot of stuff. Also, I like that while she has less information than us, the audience, the things she notices while she tries to figure stuff out gives us more information. I really love how that's framed, idk

EPSILON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's my guy. My man

GENTLE

UGHHH the perks of actually having feelings fr wtf

HE'S SO NICE COMPARED TO THE REST OF THEM!!!

MC is about to get her questions answered very fast and like. I'm not sure if she handle it. To her, this is some crazy shit. This is her real life, you know

I'm like, really wondering now what the thread can do. Can they all see it? Can every single person in that room see it?

Wait. Wait that's so cool actually, that's a great way to put it?? She's the soulmate of all of Dottore's segments, but only Dottore is her soulmate. That's a great explaination actually

These fucking kids. The only nice things in this entire story, I love them, they're so precious

EPSILON!!!!! HE'S SO!!!!

HE'S SO!!!!!! He fucking REALISED. HE COULD TELL!!! THE PERKS OF ACTUALLY HAVING FEELINGS FR!!!!!!!!

Epsilon I love you. Thank you for existing. ANSWERS!!!

AHAHA Gamma is so cute, tsundere. He's a teenager, man.

Epsilonnnnn, still my favourite though. I love him

WHAT. WHAT THE FUCK. Dottore I'm gonna kill you

Noooooo they're leaving.

OKAY BUT THE KIDS ARE STILL THERE

Dottore POV

Ahaha Epsilon you bitch

Dottore fuckin tsundere doesn't want to seem interested

Object? The hell is Iota holding

GFHGFHHGFHGFHGFHFGHGFHGFHGFHHGFHGFHGHFHGFHFGHFHGHFGHFGHFHBGFHGFHFGHF I thought Epsilon would do this for her but I guess he has more respect, but the cleaning wounds trope is hard to beat

Awww Iota

Wait actually this means Iota goes under Pantalone's care when he gets overwhelmed?

PFFFFFFT you can't just hit me with that joke

God, this guy. You think he was actually studying for a PHD?

You can't just drop me line that Dottore lingered on her lips and just MOVE ON

Oh she's asking DOTTORE this question

"They are me." is SUCH a line.

This is such a well written conversation actually. It's just very short lines, but the QUESTIONS and ANSWERS they embody are just. So much

And Dottore is such a NERD. He totally loves talking about his research

AND MC can keep up! Of course she can cause she wanted to know more about what he was sending her.

Oh Dottore just admit that you like that she's smart

Wait. Actually. What are the segments made of. They haven't been described as inhuman, so is this where the human experiments come in? But they look like exact clones of Dottore?

Dottore is so fucking weak to this soulmate thing and he KNOWS it.

Oh shut up you liked it

Oooo, she's asking about the (probably) Archon residueeee.

He doesn't even really want to leave

And that's all! This is my second attempt at reblogging because apparently I went too insane for Tumblr to process my tags, but

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, theta hurts reader but only a little, this was not edited sorry for mistakes 😭

notes: alrighty guys, this is officially the last chapter of the regular schedule—after this one, updates are going to be sporadic but they will at the very least be monthly. wish i could keep up the schedule but its not going to be feasible considering i start law school this upcoming wednesday </3 i'll update the masterlist to reflect the change too

SPIT IN MY FACE

“Excuse me?”

The masked man—had Gamma called him Theta?—kept a tight grip on your wrist, holding it up in front of you so he could look at it himself. He was stronger than he looked, you tried to rip your wrist out of his hold but failed. His nails dug into your skin in response to the attempt, drawing blood. You grimaced as you watched a thin line of red seep down your forearm.

“You heard me.” Theta’s smile didn’t budge as his other hand came up to grab your chin, turning your head away from where Kappa was still buried in the crook of your neck to face him. “Was he trying to keep you hidden away or were you trying to hide from us?”

He wasn’t looking at your hand. He was looking at your finger or more specifically… where your thread was hanging from it, leading off somewhere to the left of you wherever Dottore was. You remembered how Kappa had looked down at your hand curiously before deciding to come over to you, the way he was so at ease with you for no reason. And Gamma. Gamma had looked at your hand before he started panicking and ran off.

Could they… see it?

“Hm?” Theta’s nails dug into your cheeks now, just like how he had with the aristocrat—you didn’t even know where they went, if they had taken the opportunity to flee or if he had done something to immobilize them, you couldn’t turn your head to check. You grimaced as you felt his nails break skin again. “Answer me.”

How was that possible?

You could all but taste the poison in his words, the impatience and the frustration. You were at a loss as to how to proceed—your arms were tied up with Kappa, one of your hands was stuck in his and he was forcing you to look at him, and that unhinged look in his red eyes was causing your brain to fog with fear.

Think. You had to think. You had to free your wrist from his hand. You had to get back to your room, or to Pantalone’s.

Where was Pantalone? Livid, you realized that the man was probably still listening in on the show, not getting involved, leaving you to deal with this unstable bastard.

Think. What did he want to hear? What would make him settle down at least enough to loosen his grip on you?

But how the hell were you supposed to know what he wanted you to hear? Even with just the way he spat out those two questions, you knew both answers were wrong and would set him off more. But you had to say something, the longer you went without answering his question, the more his eyes flamed with impatience—you didn’t want to know what would happen when that thin thread of patience snapped.

“I came here, didn’t I?” you asked quietly. You tried to relax your shoulders and upper body, exuding a type of faux-comfort with the man. “I came looking for you.”

Theta’s red eyes narrowed with suspicion, watching you carefully—his grip did not waver, much to your distress.

“You don’t even know who I am,” he said coldly, speaking the one truth you’d hoped he wouldn’t. His grip on your wrist tightened and his nails dug deeper into your cheeks. “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” you told him, grimacing as his nail dragged against your skin. Kappa shifted in your arms, bristling, you couldn’t tell if he was watching or not. “You can see the thread, no? I may not fully understand how you can see it but the fact that you can speaks enough.”

Theta hesitated, the corner of his lip dipping in doubt as he tried to decide whether or not he thought you were lying. You watched with bated breath, tongue kissing the inside of your teeth, as a flurry of emotions rushed through his eyes ranging from anger to hesitancy and hope. Then his eyes hardened, decision made, and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Liar.”

Again, his grip tightened but it was painful now and your body begged you to pull away or do something but he was stronger than you. He forced you closer to him, turning you so that if Kappa wasn’t between you, you would’ve been chest-to-chest with him. You wondered if you should let him go, let him flee somewhere safe, but he was still clutching your shirt.

Theta leaned in close, you could feel his breath hot against your cheek and the cool ceramic of his mask nudging against your skin where his nose would have been. You grit your teeth together as you felt something warm and wet press against the skin of your cheek where his nails had broken through, lapping at the blood.

Your face felt hot, anger and humiliation curdling your blood as Theta let out a puff of amused laughter against your skin.

“You taste like a liar too,” Theta crooned. “Lambda thinks you’re a fake sent to distract us. Are you a fake, little liar?”

Us. He kept saying us but you don’t know what that meant or how it was possible—they could see the thread but as far as you could tell, they did not have a connecting one. You had never seen anything like that before, nor had you ever read about anything like that.

You thought you should say something but your mind was reeling as you tried to piece together the puzzle and figure out what was going on.

But before you could do or say anything, Kappa squirmed and twisted in your arms, hanging over you to whack his small fist hard against Theta’s mask—with more strength than you expected from the boy.

Theta grunted stumbling back—he wasn’t hurt but the force of Kappa’s swing had partially knocked his mask off, revealing thick scars similar to the ones you had seen on Gamma. He fumbled trying to straighten out the mask and as he did, you whirled around to rush to your room.

You didn’t get far.

Not because of Theta, who was cursing as he fastened the mask back on, but because you slammed right into someone else’s chest, broad and dressed in dark clothes. You glanced up as a pair of gloved hands grabbed your waist, irritation rising at Pantalone’s thin, close-eyed smile. You wondered if you had passed or failed whatever test he expected from this situation.

The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist as he shifted you over to the side and behind him, leveling his attention on Theta as the man straightened back, narrowed eyes still trained on you instead of the Harbinger.

“Theta.” Venom dripped from Pantalone’s words as he spoke his name. “I suggest you make your way back to the Doctor’s labs instead of bothering my guest.”

“Your?” Theta spat out, taking a step forward. His eyes were wild again now, far gone from the hardened look he had directed toward you after he made his decision. You stiffened, watching as Pantalone lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, challenging Theta. “She is not your anything, banker. Go back to counting your coins and sucking noble cock to get further in the world, stay out of our business.”

Pantalone, to his credit, did not look bothered by the dig—the only sign of anger was the way his lip twitched before he spoke: “Take it up with your maker, fraud. You have no authority here, you are not the Doctor.”

“I am-”

Sharp and loud, Theta’s voice rang up and down the hall as he took two long steps forward as if to attack Pantalone but the Harbinger only let out a huff of amusement as he cut Theta off mid-shout.

“I am not one of the subordinates who you can fool into believing you are him. You are a rabid dog running a thin line between life and death. It is only a matter of time before you’re put down, I again suggest you leave before I make that day come sooner.”

You thought that you shouldn’t feel anything for the man standing a few paces away but something deep in you clenched when Theta drew back as if he’d been physically slapped, red eyes wide with shock. The feeling did not last long though because as quick as the hurt appeared, it was gone, twisting into something far more sinister as a wide smile spread across his lips, teeth bared much like the rabid dog Pantalone claimed him to be.

“You think you can kill me?”

Something manic stained his words, deranged and challenging as if he meant for Pantalone to back his words right then and there. Theta did not have a vision, not one that you could see or feel at least, but you knew in your bones that he was far, far more dangerous than he looked—he was strong and he moved faster than any visionless human you’d ever seen. Briefly, you wondered if he even was hu-

Pantalone stepped forward and the air around the four of you crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl. You let out a shaky breath, eyes widening as you took a step away from the man, unconsciously trying to get away from the source of the energy, an unnatural and uncomfortable feeling spreading through you.

What is that?

It felt sick. Corrupted. The air tasted stale and rotted as it seeped down the halls like poison. Your vision was reacting in response to it, the purity of the hydro energy trying to repel the new, malefic energy but it was curling all around you, trying to find chinks in the thin shield your vision was providing you from the decay.

You had to get away from it but your feet were rooted to the ground, watching the scene play out before you. Neither Theta nor Pantalone looked bothered by the energy—in fact, Theta looked thrilled, eyes alight as his impossibly wide smile widened even more, a giggle slipping from his lips as he raised his hand as if to summon something, but before he could snap his fingers, his eyes dulled and his knees hit the ground hard. Almost like he had been turned off, just like that.

What-

At once, the energy around Pantalone dissipated and you could move, confusion riddling your mind as you tried to figure out what happened to Theta and what that disgusting energy was. You took a step forward, eyes wide and trained on Theta first—was that Pantalone’s doing? But as you turned to look at him, your gaze caught sight of a figure down the hall.

Dottore.

You were bleeding.

Dottore could feel his cheeks stinging but he hadn’t been sure what it was until he got to the hall in Pantalone’s wing where Gamma had left you. Theta was on the ground, empty-eyed and still, turned off courtesy of Dottore, and Pantalone was standing to the side of you, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation.

But you were looking at him, and only him, and he could only focus on you, eyes tracing the blood as it dripped down your cheeks to your neck, dribbling down your skin. With creased brows and lips pressed together tightly, he couldn’t tell if the look you were directing toward him was suspicion or anger or something else entirely. The only thing he could feel from you was what he assumed were the remnants of the confrontation with Theta: fear, anxiety, skepticism, confusion, disgust.

Disgust, was that directed toward him or Theta or both of them? It didn’t sit well with him. He wondered how much Theta had told you, and he wondered how much you’d been able to piece together from what he had. Dottore had been hoping to keep the existence of the segments a secret from you.

The last thing he wanted to have to do was get into depth about what they were because if he knew you even half as well as he thought he did, he knew it would turn into an interrogation of all that he’d been up to with his research. Even when you were young, when the third phase of the bond had first manifested, he had to be careful about what he was thinking about so that it wasn’t transcribed to you. Countless times he received words from you that could have only been originally given by him: the names of the segments, residue, deactivate, and Dottore knew that you must be taking every word he sent you to relentlessly research into them.

“Doctor,” Pantalone finally drawled as Dottore came to a stop in front of them, forcing his attention away from you just for a second. “It’s about time that you’ve leashed your mad dog, I’m quite tired of dealing with him.”

Dottore didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he focused his attention back onto you—the only apparent wounds were the deep scratch marks on your cheek and wrist, painful but mostly superficial. It would heal in a few days at most, he would pass along an ointment to Pantalone so he could give it to you to speed along the healing process.

The issue for Dottore laid in the boy tucked neatly in your arms, hiding his face against your skin.

The Kappa segment.

Dottore exhaled. That would be trouble trying to handle. The Kappa segment was skittish and nervous. He usually only stuck around Epsilon, Iota or Gamma, he even tried to avoid the other segments if he could. Dottore had a feeling that it was because they reminded him of their father but he couldn’t be sure.

Either way, he had never latched onto someone like this before and Dottore had a feeling it would be an issue trying to get him away from you. He didn’t like shutting down the younger segments—or any of the segments for that matter because it tended to mess with their wiring—but he thought he might have to in order to get the kid back to the estate without alerting the entire palace to your presence and relationship to him.

His eyes lingered on you, only for a few more moments, watching the way you held Kappa close, arms wrapped around him tightly as if to shield him from danger. Kappa seemed like he was on the verge of dozing off, his shoulders rising and falling steadily—he’d never seen him so comfortable with someone that wasn’t Epsilon before. Something unfamiliar tightened his chest. Longing? Desire? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

He looked away sharply, finally turning his attention to Pantalone.

“Regrator, don’t act as if you spend all of your free time reluctantly handling my segments. You are usually asking for them, in fact,” Dottore said dryly. He barely spared you another look as he said: “I’ll handle this. Go back to your room and rest.”

Your face twisted and Dottore bit back a sigh, realizing that round three of his war of words with you was about to begin.

“I am not a child,” you shot back, voice tight. “You can’t just send me to my room. I have questions and you will give me answers now. I’ve waited long enough.”

Dottore had a feeling that you were not just talking about the past few hours. You were talking about the decade he had spent ignoring your existence. Unfortunately for you, he had no interest in answering your questions, not now or ever.

He turned his attention back to Pantalone, ignoring the furious look that spread across your face at being blatantly ignored. Luckily—or unluckily, time would tell—Epsilon stepped in. He watched as your brows dipped in suspicion, looking between Epsilon and Dottore warily. If you hadn’t put together something was very, very wrong with the existence of Kappa, Gamma and Theta already, he had a feeling that Epsilon’s appearance just sealed it.

Dottore turned away as Epsilon took your hand in his to press his lips to your knuckles before he gently led you in the direction of the door on the left. Gamma and Iota followed behind, the latter far more excited than the former. Gamma cast one last pleading look in Dottore’s direction just as Iota slammed the door shut behind them.

Dottore, as he turned his attention to Theta’s still body, thought this might just be the worst case scenario. All three of the children. Theta. Epsilon. The last segments Dottore wanted meeting you all somehow managed to do just that within hours of you being in Zapolyarny. This would spread to all of the rest of the segments in no time and then he would have Zeta demanding to see proof of your existence and Rho lurking about curious; he’d have Delta bashing down the palace door to get Iota away from you, convinced by Lambda that you were only here to deceive them. And he’d have Lambda doing god knows what to try to remove your existence from their lives so they could continue their research without distraction.

He needed a plan of action and he needed it fast but first, he had to deal with this.

“What happened?”

“Two aristocrats came up looking for the Kappa segment,” Pantalone said off-handedly. “Your soulmate interfered.”

“Interfered?” Dottore demanded. “What was she doing wandering around?”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows. “Was I meant to lock her in her room?”

Dottore looked at him coldly, silently telling him yes, he should have. They could not afford to have any of their subordinates run into you, much less any of the Harbingers and he knew that some of them would be searching for you. He remembered Columbina’s cryptic comment about you a few months ago, Sandrone’s fury at your presence in Snezhnaya, Arlecchino’s odd interest in you—and if Arlecchino was interested, it was only a matter of time before she sent her attack dog after you to find out whatever she wanted to know. Keeping you isolated from the rest of the Fatui was paramount.

“What happened with Theta?” Dottore asked after Pantalone let out an exaggerated sigh of agreement.

“What always happens with Theta,” Pantalone said dismissively. “He gets set off and lashes out. Was going on about her faking the bond, apparently Lambda is going around convincing them she’s lying.”

Of course, Dottore thought bitterly. He knew that Lambda had been talking to Zeta, Delta and Rho but he thought the segment knew better than to get Theta wound up about this.

He took a deep breath, taking a step away to calm himself down. Well, that made that decision: the first thing he had to do was talk to Lambda, he couldn’t have him turning the segments against you, least of all Theta, who was very liable to attack those that he thinks did him wrong. After that, he would figure out what to do with the rest of the segments because in stopping Lambda, he would have to admit to them all that you were his soulmate, that this was all real.

That this was all real.

Dottore shut his eyes briefly, unconsciously looking in the direction of where you, Epsilon and the kids had disappeared behind the dark door that led to your room. His body itched to follow them in there—the bond in work, surely, but he could feel it was getting stronger. It was stronger than it was while he had been dancing with you, and even stronger than it had been while talking to you outside of the washroom. He should just grab Theta and drag him back down to his lab, leaving Epsilon to deal with your interrogation, but his feet weren’t cooperating.

“You should speak to her,” Pantalone said as he turned to go back to his own room. “If you’re going to have me confine her to this wretched place, you should at the very least, explain to her why… lest you have a very unhappy soulmate on your hands. I doubt that would be conducive to productivity.”

Dottore hummed dismissively, glancing back at the door once. He supposed should, he didn’t want to deal with your turbulent emotions, especially when he was going to be dealing with the segments.

Distantly, a part of him wondered if he was just using that as a logical excuse to give in to the pull of the bond.

“And Doctor, do get me that prototype by the morning as promised.”

You felt overwhelmed. The older boy, Gamma, was sitting in the corner of your room, knees tucked to his chest as he watched you with the younger two. Kappa was fast asleep now, tiny arms slung around your neck as he slept—you had tried to place him down on your bed but whenever you tried to pull him away from you, his arms tightened and he started stirring awake. The other one, you didn’t know his name yet, was kneeling on the floor next to the bed where you were sitting, big red eyes peeked above the comforter, watching you with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust and longing.

He had the same scar on the upper half of his face that Gamma did, you couldn’t help but notice, down to the burn patterns and wrinkles. And they were identical, if Gamma was a few years younger, he’d be the spitting image of the kid. It was impossible. Not even brothers can be so similar as to be identical down to the wrinkles and patterns in scars.

So, what were they?

You had to have been onto something when you thought it was some sort of experiment—Kappa was too young to have been born eight years ago, Gamma and the new kid were too similar in appearances, if you saw correctly when Kappa partially knocked off the mask even Theta seemed to have some scars on his face, and Theta and Kappa both showed a strength that did not reflect in their body.

A throat being cleared knocked you out of your thoughts, your eyes drew up from the kids to where the man was standing near the door. He gave you a small, apologetic smile as his eyes met yours—red and gentle.

Who was this?

You watched the man with thinly veiled suspicion. He looked just like Dottore, silvery blue hair styled the same way and even wearing a similar dark button-up that he did.

Except unlike Dottore, he was not wearing a mask.

His skin was smooth compared to the scars of the children and instead of the ever-present frown of Dottore, the corner of his lips were turned up. You had grown used to the cold aloofness of your soulmate over the years, it unnerved you how someone could look so much like him and yet feel entirely different.

You raised your chin as Epsilon came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, keeping your expression stony, studying him to try to figure out what he wanted from you.

“Peace,” he murmured. “I’d just like to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

He had a white handkerchief between his fingers and you were acutely aware of the blood still dripping down your cheeks and arm. He raised his eyebrows, but sighed when he realized you weren’t going to budge, placing the handkerchief back in his pocket.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them if you’d like.”

Of course you had questions, but could you trust him to answer them?

He didn’t appear as if he was trying to deceive you, his eyes were warm and his lips were lax, he had none of that tightness that Dottore usually had. Was he faking it? Or was he wanting to help you? You couldn’t tell, his demeanor was throwing you off.

“You’re really her?” a new, young voice said softly, voice hesitant but tinged with the slightest bit of hope that had your heart aching. You looked back toward the kid as he peered up at you through thick curls of hair cautiously. “Our soulmate?”

Our.

Your ears rang, distantly watching as the boy reached out for your hand, thin fingers playing with yours until he reached the one your thread was looped around. From the corner of your eye, you looked at the older man, who was watching you with a knowing expression.

Our.

How was that possible? He could clearly see your thread, trying to play with it and tug at it in the same way you used to as a child, but he had no connecting one, like the Doctor did. Did that make you his soulmate but he was not yours? Was there such a thing as unrequited soulmates? But you didn’t think it was that simple, there was a critical piece of information you were still missing.

But the kid was looking at you again, anxiously awaiting your response, and you didn’t have the heart to deny him. Even if you weren’t sure what was going on, he could undeniably see your thread.

“Yes,” you finally said, watching as he lit up, red eyes pooling with tears and lips trembling as he flung himself forward, burying his face into your lap. He jostled Kappa, who kicked his foot out instinctively, but the kid was unbothered.

“I knew you were real.” His voice was muffled into the cloths of your dress. “Everyone said you weren’t but I knew you were.”

Your throat tightened and your now free hand twitched from where it was laying on the comforter of your bed, coming up to pat his head.

You let out a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to focus on the man still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an indecipherable expression.

“I’ve never seen them take to someone like this before,” he said softly. “I suppose it’s just further proof that you are who you claim to be. Some of the others thought it might be a ploy.”

Others, you wondered distantly but you were more focused on the last thing he said, face twisting.

“I would not fake a soul bond,” you said tightly, mind turning to your stepfather and your mother, your dead father and your destroyed family.

“I insulted you,” he realized. “My apologies, it was not my intention. I was not one of the ones that thought that way but I figured it was best for you to know and prepare, some of them might doubt you when they meet you.”

“How many of you are there?” you asked, but the more important question that you just couldn’t push out was what are you?

“Excluding the Doctor, there are nine of us. I’m called Epsilon. Kappa is the youngest, then Iota, who is on your lap, and then Gamma, who’s sitting over there,” he explained.

You looked back over to where Gamma was sitting. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out the window into the dark night… or maybe he was. Amused, you realized that he was still watching you carefully through the reflection of the window. As soon as he realized that you noticed what he was doing, he turned his head away quickly.

“He’ll warm up,” Epsilon said quietly. You looked back toward him, watching as his lips turned up, red eyes glittering, as if sharing some secret with you. “He’s nervous.”

You couldn’t help the way you let out a puff of amusement, studying Gamma and the way he was digging his nails into the palm of his hand and tapping his foot against the wood of the window nook incessantly.

“I don’t… really understand all of this,” you finally admitted, relaxing a bit with Epsilon. You let yourself lean back against the large, decorative pillows set up on the bed, watching the man that looked eerily similar to Dottore, wondering if this was what he looked like beneath the mask as well.

“This is new for all of us too,” Epsilon told you, “so I can’t really explain to you what all of the bonds might be or mean… but I’m sure that is not what you’re asking right now, is it?”

“Not entirely, at least. First I’d like to understand…”

What you are. What they are. Why you can see the thread and why the children think that I’m their soulmate too.

“Well, I’ll do my best at explaining then. You deserve that much at least.”

The heavy weight on your chest lifted, if only a little. You thought that this might be the first time in weeks, months, that someone was actually giving you answers. Your father passed and left you with only questions, the masked person from the inn gave you even more questions and not a single answer, and now even Dottore refused to answer your questions, he just sent you away for Pantalone to deal with.

“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes meeting his again.

Epsilon gave you a small smile, lips parting to speak but before he could say anything, the door to your room opened again. Your gaze shot up, eyes falling upon a familiar masked figure standing in the frame, lips pressed together tightly.

“Epsilon,” Dottore said coldly. “Bring Theta down to the lab.”

Epsilon sighed heavily, shooting you an apologetic look before rising to his feet. “Another time,” he offered, and you nodded, disappointed, ignoring how Dottore’s lips turned downward.

Epsilon made his way out of the room, slipping past Dottore, and Gamma threw himself off the nook and scampered after Epsilon, fleeing the room without another look toward you.

The door slam shut behind them, an eerie silence sweeping over the room as he left you with Dottore.

Dottore’s already sour mood worsened when Epsilon flung him a triumphant look as soon as his back was turned to you. He wondered what he said to you in those few minutes he was in here alone with you but for some reason, he doubted that you would tell him and he by no means wanted to add more fuel to the fire by appearing interested in you. Narrowed eyes followed Epsilon as he left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him and the Gamma segment so he could speak to you without unwelcome ears listening in.

The Kappa and Iota segments made no move to leave—one being fast asleep and the other now watching Dottore suspiciously, shifting behind you to peek over your shoulder at him. Dottore could see the boy clutching something in his hand, knuckles white around the object and arms tensed as if ready to throw it. Dottore raised his eyebrows, albeit knowing neither of you could see the action anyway.

He ignored Iota and drew closer to the bed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the mattress that Epsilon had been sitting on as he observed you. You looked exhausted—your eyes looked heavy and tired, they didn’t have the same spark in them that they had earlier in the night, and the blood from the scratch marks on your was smeared messily, staining your skin and dress.

Irritated, Dottore wondered why Epsilon hadn’t cleaned it up, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and shifting a little closer. He grabbed your arm first, ignoring that tingling sensation as it reappeared as soon as the pads of his fingers were pressed against your bare skin, and especially ignoring the red thread tied around your finger.

He could feel your eyes on him as he carefully wiped away the blood, distantly noting that Iota had shimmied out from behind you and was darting to the opposite side of the room.

“He will not bother you again,” Dottore finally said, sparing a look to the side as Iota approached from the side, this time with bandages. He eyed the boy curiously, wondering if this room was one of the places he fled to those rare times he was stuck in the palace and got overwhelmed by the amount of people. Iota turned his head away pointedly and Dottore just shook his head, taking the bandages and wrapping them neatly around your wrist and forearm.

You didn’t respond to him and Dottore glanced up at you, waiting for you to say something. You looked away, Dottore bit back an irritated sigh, tying off the bandage and moving a bit closer to look at your face.

“Thought they just called you a doctor for the irony,” you snipped half-heartedly, keeping your eyes averted as his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning your head to the side to see just how deep Theta had cut you.

Dottore let out an amused puff of air. “They do,” he drawled, “but I’m usually presented as one to acquire more willing test subjects. I must at least know the basics.”

You gave him a withering look from the corner of your eye, bottom lip pushed out. He was grateful for his mask hiding the way his gaze lingered on it, focusing back on the scratch marks. They weren’t too deep but he didn’t have an ointment with him to spread over them, so instead he just pressed the handkerchief to the skin, cleaning up the blood.

“What are they?” you asked, eyes steeled for an argument.

Dottore sighed heavily, considering briefly trying to avoid the subject but you did not seem keen on letting this slide and he was not in the mood for an argument. He wanted to get this done and get out of your room as soon as possible, even if his body was betraying him by allowing his fingers to linger on your cheek as he wiped away the blood.

“They are me.”

Concise and to the point, as he always was, Dottore waited for the explosion of questions and demands to come from you but you only stared at him, studying him. Again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because he did not like the way he felt beneath your gaze.

“How?” you finally questioned.

“Experimentation,” Dottore said dryly, your eyes narrowed as if that was an obvious answer. His lip unconsciously pulled up into a smirk. “I was able to isolate and extract my consciousness at specific periods of my life after years of study into-”

“Irminsul,” you finished for him, voice little over a breath and eyes darting down to your forearm.

Dottore’s lips pressed into a thin line, watching you carefully—he did not like that, or did he? A part of him was impressed that you’d managed to put it together so easily just from the little he said and the words that had been transcribed to you through the bond. But on the same note, he thought that the fact that the bond had given you enough words to so easily string together how he had gone about his research was unnerving.

Not for the first time since the bond appeared, Dottore felt distinctly violated.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Study into Irminsul. All I had to do was create vessels for the consciousnesses after extracting them.”

“And they are… you?”

You were looking at Kappa with a different expression now, Dottore couldn’t figure out what it was but it made him uncomfortable, vulnerable. There was a reason why he made sure to keep all of the younger segments far, far away from people. Dottore let his hand drop back to his lap, folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket.

“Yes.” His voice came out colder and sharper, and you caught the change in tone, looking up at him quickly with furrowed brows. “I’ll be taking them back to the labs.”

You didn’t look pleased, frowning as you looked down at Kappa, who was still fast asleep. Behind Dottore, Iota let out a noise of protest but Dottore only had to turn his head to the side to stop the boy from speaking his complaint out loud.

“So what? You’re just going to leave again?” you asked harshly.

“Did you think I was going to stay?” he quipped back, sarcasm dripping from his words. “That you and the younger segments and I were just going to be one happy family?”

To your credit, you didn’t look too perturbed by the harsh words but he knew it affected you, if the way your grip tightened on Kappa had anything to say about it.

“You can’t just keep me here,” you spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not-”

“You’ll find that I can do whatever I want,” Dottore corrected, rising to his feet.

You didn’t hesitate, shifting Kappa down to lay on the bed next to you as you moved forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist to hold him in place. A commendable effort, but all it would take was one quick snap of his wrist to free it from your hold…

But he did not snap away his wrist. As easy as it would have been, instead he just stood there, staring down at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. He tensed as if to pull away but his body didn’t cooperate—he blamed it on the bond but he wasn’t so sure that was the case.

“I’m not done,” you said. “I have more questions.”

“Another time,” he dismissed, finally forcing himself to pull his wrist back. Again, he felt a strange void as soon as the pressure of your fingers was removed from him. “I’ve wasted enough time tonight.”

Wasted?

“Wasted?” you echoed his very thought, scoffing loudly before shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t really care. What I do care about is knowing what that energy was around Pantalone—what was that?”

Dottore looked at her steadily from beneath his mask. “That is none of your business,” he said coolly. “Do not go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong lest you find yourself a guest here forever.”

The look you gave him was nothing short of murderous. “As if I won’t be already,” you spat, rising to your feet to take a few steps closer to him after he moved away. Dottore remained rooted in place, looking down at you. “I will not be kept here like a caged animal.”

“Then maybe you should not act like one.”

“Excuse me?” Dottore’s words held no weight, but he did very much enjoy goading reactions out of you, watching as your face twisted in fury at the insult. “I came here for a reason, Doctor, and that reason was not to be imprisoned by you. I have information I need to find and one way or another, I will acquire it. You can either-”

“You will do as I say so long as you’re in this palace,” Dottore said, cutting you off by pinching your cheeks between his fingers and tilting your face up to look at him. “Just because we have a bond forced on us by Celestia does not make you untouchable, control that tongue of yours before it lashes at the wrong person. Once I get the information I want, I will consider getting you what you want. Then, we will never have to see each other again. Until then, you have reaped what you sowed and it is no one’s fault but your own that you were not adequately prepared for the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”

Just for a second, he watched as a helpless expression spread across your face, eyes glassy and lips pressed together tight as you stared up at him. His tongue itched to say something else but no words formed on it before you snapped your face out of his hold, looking away.

“Get out.”

A part of him wanted to refuse just to be spiteful—was it spite? Or was it something else, that heavy feeling weighing at his chest? That was a question he was not ready to answer, so instead, he smiled thinly:

“Gladly.”

i promise they’re going to start warming up to each other soon more than just in their internal narration <.< soon as in very soon wait til you see the scene i have planned

RBS APPRECIATED!

#long post #tw caps

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missetbilu · 3 years ago

Text

A LITTLE HELP*

cedric diggory x fem!reader, smut

you walk in on cedric trying to discover the egg’s clue and he asks for help. how could you deny it, this is what friends are for, right?

warnings: nsfw, handjob, fingering, penetrative sex

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORK! MINORS DNI!

You grabbed your towel and a bag with all the products needed for your bath. Putting on a robe, you made your way to the prefect’s bathroom. Cedric, one of your closest friends, had mentioned it was a great place to relax in the tub. Since then, you wanted to go check it out for yourself really badly and had decided to do it tonight.

Entering the room and closing the door, the first thing you noticed was the beautiful mosaic on the glass windows. You were so astonished by it that you paid no mind to the tub that was already filled with water and bubbles, nor to the golden egg set on its edge.

You undressed quickly, under your robes you had a bikini that you planned on taking off once you got into the tub, but before you could do so, a boy emerged from the water.

“HOLY FUCK!” You screamed loudly and thought about running to get your things and leave. Then you recognised him. “Cedric?!” He ran a hand across his face and shook his head, the wet curls of his hair dripping like tears back into the tub.

“Y/N?” The boy babbled, just as confused as yourself.

“Merlin! You almost gave me a heart attack.” You said in a playful tone.

“Well, I can say the same.” Cedric chuckled. “I wasn’t really expecting any company; still trying to figure out this egg, you see…”

“Weren’t you here yesterday to do that?” You questioned, trying to play it cool to make the situation less awkward.

“Yes, but I had no success. Hence why I was almost drowning myself here.” He laughed at his own joke and you mimicked the action, mostly out of nervousness.

You let your eyes wander to his strong shoulders peeking out of the bubbles. Cedric had some scratches and bruises here and there, from what you could see. Probably from fighting a goddamn dragon just the other day, you thought, mindlessly biting down your lip.

Your mind shutted off for what was nothing more than a few seconds, but when it came back, you felt his eyes on you. Cedric looked you up and down, and you couldn’t help crossing your arms in front of yourself, now much more aware of your exposed skin. Maybe I should put my robes back on…

“Hm… I’ll...leave you to it then… Bye.” You turned around to go, but Cedric called you.

“Y/N, wait!” You looked back at him, a little uncertain of what he was gonna do next. “Perhaps you could help me?”

You froze on your spot. His voice was soft, it was almost a plea, like he was embarrassed to ask. Your gaze was set on his puppy eyes. He did appear to be stressed out, the boy seemed like he could use a little help.

“Okay, sure.” You didn’t know what you were doing, but your body had a will of its own. You approached the tub, slowly getting in. His eyes never leaving your figure. The water was warm and you couldn’t hold back a smile from the bubbles touching your skin.

You sat next to Cedric near the edge and allowed yourself to relax a bit. Then your mind went somewhere you didn’t intend to. What if he’s naked?? I mean, he could be, people are usually completely undressed when they take a bath. But then again, he did invite me in here, I don’t think he would do that if he wasn’t wearing anything...

“You wanna take a look?”

“What?” You gasped in shock with the question, but then realized he was talking about the huge golden dragon egg in his hands. “Yes. Yes, I do.” Shit, I hope he didn’t notice that. He put it in your hand and you almost dropped it, not expecting its weight. “Wow, I didn’t know it was this heavy.”

“Heavy and loud.” Cedric opened it, the deafening sound immediately filled the room.

This time, startled by the squeal, you did drop it. The egg sunked to the bottom of the tub.

“Oh my, I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” He guaranteed. “It’s pretty strong, I guess. But look.”

“What?”

“It stopped.”

“The sound… It stopped completely. And it’s still open.” You pointed out the egg deep under the water. It was shining, now without the unsettling scream, you could see how beautiful it was inside.

“Wait, I’ll get it.” Cedric said and dived in to pick it up. He came back up after a second. “Wow! You gotta check this out!” He immersed himself back in and you took a deep breath before doing the same.

"Come seek us where our voices sound

We cannot sing above the ground

An hour long you will have to look

To recover what we took"

The voice was so beautiful that you almost forgot about your surroundings. You just wanted to admire the shining egg and the lovely singing.

The two of you came back up for air and Cedric let out an amused chuckle.

“That’s it! This song is the tip for the next challenge.” He smiled from ear to ear, setting the egg aside. “Merlin! I’m so glad we figured it out! Now we need to go over the words and find out exactly what it means, but the hard part is past us!”

Us. The way he talked about it like you two unveiled the mystery behind the egg made your heart melt. He had always been the sweetest boy. Seeing him all excited was not a new thing for you, but there seemed to be a new light to it. You couldn’t tell what, but something switched in the way you perceived Cedric.

“Thank you so much! I’m really grateful, Y/N!”

“Ced, come on, no need to thank me. I did nothing but clumsily drop the egg.”

“But that’s exactly what took me to the answer I’ve been seeking!” He took your hands in his and looked deeply into your eyes. “Seriously, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I was just lucky! My silly mistake could have ruined it.”

“But it didn’t!” You two were laughing at each argument thrown out. It had become somewhat of a playful fight rather than actually trying to convince each other of anything.

“But it could have! Turns out I’m not as strong as the dragon slayer, Cedric Diggory.” He threw his head back with laughter.

“Maybe not, but you can’t deny that, as incredibly strong and intelligent as I am, I still couldn’t figure out the egg without you.”

“You would have done it eventually, you golden boy.” His grip on your wrists tightened at the pet name and he pulled your body closer to his.

“If you don’t take credit for helping,” his voice was lower, he was still teasing, but it felt like there was a new shade to it, “I’m gonna have to…” He stopped himself, an unsure look on his face as he glanced at the water.

“What?” You said in a provocative tone, much like his, coming closer. “Brave enough to fight a dragon, but not brave enough to look me in the eye?” You chased his gaze with your head, since you were unable to move your arms to pull his face in your direction.

“Stop or-”

“Or what?” You cut him off with a smirk. When he did look at you, there was a spark to Cedric’s eyes, a fiery…lust maybe? You couldn’t tell, but you were so deep into character to break things off. “What are you gonna do about it, Diggory?”

“This.”

He pulled you in one more time, now even closer, and pressed his lips to yours.

You kissed back immediately. It was rather contained at first, like neither of you knew what you were doing. Cedric was such a beautiful boy, that was undeniable. You always thought of him as an attractive person, but you never actually considered anything with him.

Cedric on the other hand, had thought of you like that before. And not only once, actually more times than he would like to admit. When you would laugh at his jokes, or absentmindedly take his arm on yours to walk to class, or even when you just smiled proudly at him after a good Quidditch game. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you walked into the bathroom that night. Even now, feeling your lips against his, it still felt like one more of his daydreams.

Your heart was beating so fast. You felt Cedric was uncertain, like he wasn’t fully sure if you wanted that. But you did want it. You wanted him. More than ever. It was like he opened your eyes for something so obvious, and yet you had never noticed it before. So you allowed yourself to show him that, pulling him closer by wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Cedric’s hands flew to your waist, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t help a moan as he did so, tightening his grip on your skin. He stopped for a second to give you a cocky smirk.

“Wow, I knew I was a good kisser, but this…” he teased.

“Shut up, Diggory.” You chuckled and took his face in your hands and connected your lips together again.

You let your hands slide to his neck, gripping on his hair. It was his time to groan into your mouth. His grip also shifted a little bit, now much softer as he touched your hips, playing with the strings of your bikini. Your hands sliding down again, now roaming his muscular chest.

He broke the kiss, only to attach his mouth to your neck. Leaving a trail of kisses there and across your collarbone. Your hands trailed further down, reaching the elastic of his swimming trunk.

The effect he had on you was fogging your mind. Once again it was like you had no rational control over your actions. Your body was moving solely on the desire you felt. That’s exactly why you touched his growing hard on, gasping at the contact and pulling a shiver from Cedric.

“Y/N…” He grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand from moving. “What are you doing?” He was short of breath, you could see it in his eyes that he wanted it as much as yourself.

“What?” Your tone was teasing and it made Cedric’s grip tighten. “You don’t want this?”

“I…” he mumbled, “of course I want it.”

“So let me.” You stroked his shaft, still trapped inside the fabric.

“Shit…” He let out. “Are you sure?”

You only nodded, pulling his dick out of where it was trapped. You looked deep into his eyes as you started pumping him.

His hands make their way up on your body, stopping under your breasts.

“Touch ‘em, Ced.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He feels you up through your bikini, only to put it to the side a second later, lightly pinching your nipples. You moan at the feeling and grips him stronger.

Cedric can’t stop a groan. He leans down and takes your tit into his mouth, massaging the other with his hand. Your pace jerking him off falters a bit with the pleasure he sends through your body.

“Ced…” You whimpered.

“What, kitten? You like this?” He didn’t stop what he was doing, but glanced up to check for your reactions. Your eyes were screwed shut and you nodded your head.

“I like it, yes.” Your words encourage him, switching to your other breast.

You run your thumb over his tip and Cedric bucks his hips up into your hand.

“Fuck…” He says under his breath. You smile at the reactions you’re pulling from the boy. But then he stops you. “Wait, stop.” He takes your hand off of him.

“Why?” You started feeling a little insecure. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Cedric eagerly responds. “Merlin, no!” He pulls you into a kiss. “But I want to finish inside you.”

His words go straight to your core. He pulls your body closer to his and you can feel his boner against your stomach.

“Do you want that?” You nod at the question, still a bit nervous. “You don’t seem so sure, princess. Words, please.”

“Yes. Yes, Ced, I want it.” You can’t help the whiny, desperate tone of your voice. Once you admit it, more to yourself than to him, it is almost impossible to hold back the need for the boy in front of you. “I want nothing more than to have you inside of me.”

Cedric sits back and guides you to sit on his lap. You shiver from anticipation. He pulls your bikini bottoms away and places a finger on your folds, running it there. You kiss him to keep a moan from falling from your lips. He inserts that finger into you and you hold him tighter.

“Ced…” You breathe out.

He bobs it in and out slowly, making you grow more and more aroused.

“Just getting you ready, bunny.” You throw your head back at his words and at the sensations that his hand on your clit is sending.

You grab his dick and look him in the eye, like a silent request.

“Already?”

“Yes, please.” Cedric takes his finger out of you and you position his member on your entrance. “Can I?” He nods, biting his lip with the feeling of his tip going inside of you.

He guides your hips and you sink down. He fills you up so good, and you let out a high pitched moan.

“Fuck..”

“I’ll start moving now, okay?” He asks after a moment and begins to grind up.

Only a couple of thrusts are enough for you to adjust to his size and move to meet his movements. You bounce on him, keeping somewhat of a rhythm. It’s almost hypnotizing.

Cedric wants to see the point where your bodies meet so perfectly, but he can’t seem to stop looking deep into your eyes. Only when you screw them shut, he does it. He looks down. The view makes him whimper and his dick twitches.

“So good, you feel so good around me.”

“All for you, Ced.” Your tights burn a little from the effort, but you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to. “You’re making me feel so- fuck!” You’re a moaning mess at this point, interrupting your own line of thinking. Cedric presses his thumb against your clit, seeing how you’re approaching your orgasm. He has to use every ounce of self control inside of himself not to cum from sounds you’re making.

“Feel what, baby? Tell me, how do I make you feel.”

“Fucking amazing, Ced.” You kiss him sloppily. “You’re my golden boy.”

The praise goes straight to cock. He can’t hold it anymore, coming with no warning. His eyes closed and his head was thrown back with the bliss he felt.

“Shit, I’m..I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You reassure him immediately. “It was hot.”

“Your turn now.”

He attaches his mouth to your neck, using one hand to hold your breast and the other to brush on your sensitive bud. The stimulation is too good. You bite your lip as hard as you can. You’re close and you know it, but you’re holding back. Cedric can tell and demands it.

“Let go, kitten.” His tone is sweet, but you can sense the dominance in it. “Right now, cum for me, now.”

And you do so. Finally letting go. You throw your head back and chant his name. To Cedric, it sounds more delightful and angelical than the singing of the sirens could ever be.

You collapse into his arms, hiding your face in his neck. Almost embarrassed for how you had screamed for him. Ced lets out a chuckle, amused by your manners.

“Princess, let me see your face.” You pull yourself up, kinda shyly staring back at him. “So beautiful.”

“So are you. And I…” You considered whether you should say it. What the hell, he’s still inside of me, I guess I can open up. “I never really noticed it. Not like this I meant. Now it has sort of hit me like a truck.” You chuckled slightly.

“Well, I noticed how hot you were from the get go. But I’m glad you’re now coming to your senses and realizing I’m absurdly attractive.” He said.

“Shut up, Diggory!” You smacked his arm and laughed with him, admiring the smug grin splattered across his face.

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A/N: This is my first smut, I'm still a little self concious about it, but I hope you like it! Any comments on what you liked, or what you think maybe I should improve on, are welcomed! ☻

#cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter smut #fifi-writes

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