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thesilmarillionblog · 6 months ago

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𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 9

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18!(MINORS DNI), heavy angst, hurt, male masturbation, language, Soldier Boy is an asshole, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4290

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Ben's chest began to feel colder beneath your fingertips, and the intense glow gradually subsided. Ben continued to stare at you in a way that defied explanation. It amazed you both that you were able to prevent the dangerous warmth in his chest, or perhaps he was controlling it subconsciously. But you knew you were the one who diverted his attention. While the heat beneath his body seemed under control, one of his gloved hands held yours on his chest, giving you an intimate look.

You muttered, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. “What happened to you?” Until you were certain he was indeed alright, you ignored the firm grip he had on your hand. You realized that he was probably not the one who intentionally exploded New York and that there was something very wrong with him.

“Well, baby, I'm not sure.” He gently put his palm closer to yours and remarked, “It's probably just a side effect of the things that happened to me in that fucking lab in Russia.”

You persisted by stating, “This looks dangerous, Ben,” despite his attempts to downplay his predicament and his continuous holding of your hands as if you were going to push him at any moment. “You might continue harming innocent people if you don't find a way to stop.”

Ben felt a wave of uneasiness pass over him, and his fingers tightened around yours. Because he was unsure of how to use his newfound abilities, he felt like a freshly empowered teenager, and you treated him as though you were a parent cautioning a careless youngster, which disturbed him and caused a sense of insecurity to take over.

“It's not a big deal,” Ben muttered in a harsh voice, trying to give the impression that he was stronger than this—even though at the moment he didn't feel like it. “As you can see, nothing happened. I suppose you were able to handle this for me in some way.”

You pushed his hands away and withdrew immediately when you verified that his body temperature had returned to normal. Ben scowled at the fact that, in contrast to him, you weren't very excited to be near since you two met again, but he felt as though his body would explode if he didn't get to touch you right away. His balls felt particularly heavy under his supe suit, and he didn't jerk off

for days—actually, years. Maybe you just needed to be alone with him to make a step.

“I think it's best that we remain together for the time being,” you stated in a serious tone. “Ben, it won't be good if you blow up again and can't control yourself.”

When you finally agreed to stay with Ben, he felt a sense of satisfaction that kept him smiling nefariously. He reasoned that maybe his newfound abilities weren't all that useless after all.

Ben grinned slyly and replied, “Course, sweetheart, since you're persisting in being with me that much. It would be better if I didn't stay alone.”

As he scanned your upper body expectantly and dismissed the situation with humor, you rolled your eyes.

“I believe there's a problem with his powers,” you turned to Butcher after you pushed Ben aside before he trapped you again and you sat down on the coach. “It is better if I stay with him.”

“If that's what you want, of course. Because of the situation going on in his chest, his ass gave us all enough trouble.”

Sitting on a coach with a coke in his hands, Ben followed you while you had a small talk with Butcher, his jaw clenching with jealousy, but he didn’t say a thing to make you feel uncomfortable.

Ben said, “It's not a big deal,” with an unkind glare in Butcher's direction.

Butcher said irritably, “It might not be for you, but it's a fucking big deal for us and all the people out there. In addition, I was wondering if the two of you could convince your former buddies to kill Homelander.”

“What?” you exclaimed, stunned. He spoke as though your guys had not always held hostility toward Ben. When he abruptly vanished, they most likely celebrated his absence. “Why do you believe they would offer Ben any kind of support at all? Everyone despised him.”

“Are you able to track them down?” Ben asked abruptly.

“They would hate to see you,” you murmured, your eyes widening in disbelief.

“When I find them, they fucking better piss in their suits,” Ben stated in a stern tone. “Noir will be the first person I'll fucking slaughter out of all of them.”

You cut him off, glaring at him, saying, “You stay away from Earving. You caused enough suffering for them all.”

“Why do you defend those who betray pathetic losers with such devotion?”

Since you've already been through a lot, Ben tried not to lose his temper when he was speaking with you, but he couldn't help but become enraged when he saw you standing up for betraying shitheads over him. He had great intentions for the two of you and was the only one who truly cared about you.

“Not them, Ben, but Vought was the one who betrayed both of us.”

You sighed and tried to seem empathetic and nice so as not to get on Ben's nerves too much because his new powers were already causing difficulties.

“Where were Noir or others when you were in that lab while the doctors were torturing you?” Ben pointed a finger in your face and demanded furiously. “You continue to defend those bitches against me, even though I am the only one who fucking saved you.”

“Ben, I won't argue with you.” With a wink, you teased him, saying, “You seem too sensitive for a proper conversation right now.”

Ben responded, “You are not making me angry, sweetie,” glancing at your body as your smile vanished and your cheeks turned crimson. “I want to take my meat off and jerk off at the moment because of you.”

Butcher replied, “Not on my fucking coach,” as you crossed your arms over your chest and averted your gaze from Ben's keen gaze.

Ben stated, “You tell me,” in a serious manner. “Where am I going to spend a week with Y/N?”

Ben was kind of relieved that he and you were both saved, even though he had not trusted Butcher and the others at all. He would have the opportunity to express how much he missed you in every way and would definitely help you start a second time by spending an entire week with you. You could speak, fuck, and do all of that for an entire week.

Feeling his balls getting tighter under his suit, he shifted on the coach, thinking of you in nasty positions, just like in the good old days.

“The location is arranged. Despite the little place to stay, I believe the two of you can get by for a week without needing any extra care.”

“What about Homelander?” Ben confidently inquired, widening his legs and placing his arm up to the coach, his hardness visible through his supe suit.

He saw you glancing at him and smiling mischievously. You wanted to say something offensive, but you knew that he was utterly without shame right then and there and that he would say something nasty as soon as you talked about his bulge.

Butcher sighed. “He's probably scared the shit out of his pants. Let's give him and you two a short break until the thing that happened in New York and Ohio is forgotten completely.”

You said, uncomfortable, “I don't think it will ever be forgotten, Butcher. Vought will try their hardest to capture us once more since the harm is too immense. They may even be looking for us at this very moment.”

It concerned you that Vought wouldn't just let you and Ben live on your own, unaccountably. It was not what you wanted to return to the lab to be tormented and examined for the future of other supes. But you had no idea how to get out of this difficult dilemma. Ben and the rest of Butcher's squad were not people you would trust with your life, so you realized you needed a plan to protect yourself from what was happening.

You also didn't want Ben to be tortured in Russia again like you were, but his main goal was to take revenge and murder Homelander. Despite never having laid eyes on the man, he was prepared to slaughter him. They would never allow Ben to touch Homelander if Vought was that supportive of him. That meant you had to first convince Ben to cease his collaboration with Butcher.

“People in the modern world are easy to forget, I promise you. Also, they could've already found you two if they had wanted to,” Butcher mumbled, trying to soothe you. “Remember, a week is full of possibilities, so try not to dwell on it too much. They won't remember for very long, and Vought is currently dealing with its own issues.”

When Ben realized how terrified you were of having to deal with the fallout from his actions and everything that transpired, his heart began to melt with regret. He was aware of your constant need for a house, a place where you could feel secure and at home, so it disturbed you to know that you had nowhere to go while Vought looked for you and that you might fall prisoner once more.

Ben understood that it was his responsibility as a man to ensure that you were protected and to keep you away from danger. You needed to spend time together before he could help you forget the unpleasant and harsh things he had done to you. He intended to start over with you, and whatever happened was all in the past. Homelander and Vought weren't that big of a concern, and things would be considerably simpler if he learned to use his new abilities. You were needed by him for both.

You leaned back toward the coach and questioned, curiously, “Why do you want to kill Homelander that much?” placing one hand under your head.

Butcher's heart clenched as a mixture of regret and affection overtook his body as his thoughts were filled with Becca's memories. Not that he even knew if he would survive.

He quickly cleared his throat and replied, “He hurt my wife,” cutting it short.

You understood, judging by her voice, that she had passed away, and you were at a loss for words. Homelander must be Vought's newest evil toy, as they have a history of hurting people and getting away with it. Somehow, you wanted to soothe Butcher, but all you said was, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

Butcher turned to face you, perhaps trying to persuade you, saying, “She is not the only one he hurt and won't be the last. He must die.”

“Even if he dies and you take your revenge, there will always be a new one, and you know this,” you insisted. “When it came to supes, Vought always had a backup plan. In the same way that they treated Ben and me. Not even the power worries them. All they want is a toy that they can play with that is practical as well as obeyant.”

“And they'll fucking pay for it,” Ben exclaimed with hatred.

“Ben, this is not going to end well for us. We are unable simply to overthrow the government or whomever in charge.”

“We'll see about that, sweetheart.”

You sighed, realizing that Ben had already made up his mind and that you two would have to talk about it at another time. He would hurt you once more if he carried on acting recklessly, but based on his actions, it didn't appear like he gave a damn. Even though you knew he was always self-centered, you were disappointed to find that he didn't give a damn about what would happen to you if he kept acting like an enemy of the state.

“Everyone had been told that you were a traitor and that you would be placed in a lab to be tested for potential superpowers. How were you treated by them? What did they do to you?” Frenchie narrowed his eyes and asked with curiosity.

You moved in the coach, pushing back the images in your head as you recalled the horrible memories. But you didn't let others see you as powerless or fragile.

You wanted to smile at him, but the traumatic images were just too overwhelming.

“I guess they kind of wanted to take off my womb to create a natural supe baby, but they simply couldn't as they couldn't go through my skin with their needles and everything,” you said.

While Frenchie was obviously at a loss for words while attempting to comprehend the years of agony you had endured, his face turned white.

Ben tried to dismiss the images in his mind, which ranged from vicious hands on you to someone trying to rip your body apart and kill you, while his heart was filled with hate and fury. He vowed to kill anyone who even slightly assisted in your torture, regardless of whether they were Homelander or Vought.

“Every single of them will die,” he declared with assurance, as if guaranteeing you, his compassionate green eyes locked on yours. “I promise it to you.”

You were briefly stunned, speechless, by the intense expression on his face, but you soon gathered yourself and joked, “It's better if you just do nothing,” attempting to break off the seriousness of the moment.

After glancing at the supe woman next to him, Frenchie remarked, “It's getting late. Will they be staying here tonight?” He asked Butcher.

Butcher grumbled as he looked at his watch. “Yes, this is where we'll all spend the night. There are probably enough rooms for them.”

“How about Annie and Hughie?” Frenchie asked again, observing the supe woman make her way to the nearest room; she seemed weary and exhausted.

She said nothing since you entered the house, which confused you. Although you were eager to start up a conversation with the new supe women, it's possible that she felt unsafe in the same room as Ben. It wouldn't surprise you. Even though you felt a little uncomfortable, you decided to try talking to her later. They might realize that you were no different from them in this situation if they truly wanted to take down Homelander's tyranny and those people weren't supporting the Vought like you were.

“They'll stay too,” Butcher cut it short.

Frenchie shot you a hesitant glance as his hand ran through the top of his head. “Is it possible for you and your friend to share a room? It seems like Annie and Hughie appear to be staying. There would be enough rooms if they didn't.”

“Yeah,” Ben responded abruptly, getting up before you could reply. As it turned out, you just gave Frenchie a brief nod.

Butcher responded, “Perfect,” and stood up. “Good night, ladies.”

You thanked Frenchie when he showed you the room you'll be staying with Ben and took a quick look at the cramped, dim room filled with old pieces of furniture.

Ben slowly unfastened his belt while he observed you searching inside the wardrobe for something to wear. His blood had been burning in his veins for an hour now, and he just wouldn't stop coming toward you. He was about to go crazy from his desire to touch you. You were alone for the first time in a very long time, so it's been a fucking long time since you've fucked properly. Ben's balls hurt from missing your gentle moans and seeing you beneath his body. You were finally alone to speak, fuck, and discuss things tonight about your future and all.

You turned your back to Ben to change after finding a pink t-shirt. Just after removing it, anxiety and the chill in the room caused your nipples to harden, and you felt Ben's eyes on your back.

Ben turned you quickly, crushed his warm lips on yours, and began to kiss you frantically before you had even put on your shirt. He was moving too fast for you to react, and you were too shocked and perplexed to do anything. He urged you to kiss him back by pushing your back against the bed and climbing on top of you, aggressively using his tongue in your mouth. The moment the chilly material of his suit touched your bare chest, you shivered.

Ben kept kissing you, getting lost in his pleasure, not able to understand if you were responding to him or not. His hardness was hurting beneath his supe suit. He put his hands around one of your tits and gave it a firm squeeze, pressing his shaft firmly between your legs.

You were in shock at how quickly everything was escalating. Only when you heard Ben unzipping his pants as his mouth filled yours with low growling did you come to your senses.

You stopped his tough hands from reaching your underwear and saved your burning lips from his. As you struggled to catch your breath, his lips slid quickly over your body, finding one of your nipples and aggressively sucking it until you forgot how to breathe.

You finally managed to say, “Ben,” in a trembling voice. “Stop it.”

When you forced his mouth away from your tits, he continued to press his firm shaft between your legs. He irritably asked, “What the fuck? It's been fucking so long.”

Ben placed his strong arms over your head and stared at your nipples that were covered with his spit through darkened eyes for a long moment until you finally gasped out and exclaimed, “I can't fucking believe you.”

“What now?” he asked, speaking as though nothing was wrong between you and that everything was normal.

“Are you a fucking rabbit in heat?”

He questioned incredulously, “Why are you so mad?” as he continued to delicately rub against your pussy with his shaft through your sweatpants.

“Ben, it has been practically decades since our breakup. We didn't even end our relationship properly because you remained silent and basically cheated on me by dating Crimson.”

Ben frowned as you mentioned the past, stopping his motions on you and trying to maintain his composure.

He just stated “We can talk about such things later,” sounding displeased to hearing his relationship with the Countess. “Let us get off some steam first.”

You whispered, “No,” and used all of your effort to push him away from you. “There is nothing left to talk.”

Ben watched your tits disappear from sight while you took the pink t-shirt he threw onto the floor, and you hastily took it on from your head with trembling hands. As soon as you moved away from him, he eventually stood up.

“It's all in the past now,” he remarked, regretfully glancing at your fragile appearance. “We can fuck first and then talk it out.”

“I don't want you to ever touch me again.” You were enraged at how he continued to neglect everything else in favor of only wanting to fuck you and added, “I mean it.”

Ben said, “I know you don't mean this,” as he approached you with confidence. “You and I both have the same desires for this. We both want each other so badly. The way your body reacts to me even now makes it very clear to me.”

You glared at him angrily and ignored his idiotic, enormous ego, saying, “I don't want you in my life ever again.”

He touched your arms and asked, his voice annoyed, “Why have you suddenly gotten angry?”

Observing his continued blindness to you, you sighed. Though it didn't seem to be as essential as you anticipated for him, you hoped that at least he talked about all that happened. But he was the same selfish man who acted like he cared about you, then betrayed you and hurt you. There was no need to make your hopes up.

You said with an irritated tone, “I can't believe I'm so blind when it comes to you. You don't even care how much you cause me pain in every way possible, and all you want is to have fun. Am I just a fucking toy for you to play with as you like it?”

Ben abruptly interrupted you, saying in a serious tone, “Of course not,” as his powerful arms moved slowly over your shoulders. “I want to discuss and work out everything that went wrong between us. I simply..missed you so much.”

Even though you wanted to believe his sincerity, you felt nothing at all moved by it. It was difficult for you to believe him at all since he had so many lies to tell you and so much sorrow in his words. It was difficult for you to remember the joyful emotions you had for him in the past, but though you tried to recall the wonderful times you had together, they felt like memories belonging to someone else now. Something had died in your heart for him.

You softly pulled his hands off your arms and murmured in a solemn tone, “I wish I could believe you, but I don't.”

His voice was low as he questioned, “What do you mean?”

With a heavy heart, you stated, “Everything that happened between us is in the past. It is no longer there. You only want me by your side now because I was faithful to you the day I came to help you, even though you have really hurt me.”

Although it was difficult to acknowledge his selfishness, it was best to face the facts straight away and prevent him from hurting or abusing you in the future.

“It's not like that,” Ben cut you off right away in a harsh voice.

He felt confused, not knowing how to convince you of his seriousness. You were right to hold such low expectations of him; he would not deny it, but he also understood that nothing would change if you hadn't been there to save him that day.

You said, “I'm tired, Ben,” indicating that you didn't want to talk about it more. “I really need to sleep.”

He let it go and sighed, realizing you weren't all that keen on talking at the moment. After all, this was your first day in the modern world, so it was understandable that you were a little lost.

Ben muttered, “Okay, but this isn't the end. We'll discuss it afterwards. For now, you take a rest.”

As he watched you turn your back on him and slip under the sheets, you remained silent. Ben began removing his supe suit with a growl. The way you felt excited and moist at his slight touch told him you didn't mean any of it. He knew that you were nonetheless deeply in love with him. Every part of his body

felt the presence of it. However, he realized that before he fucked you, he had to convince you that he cared about you.

He went into the bathroom, growling angrily as he felt his bulge kicking his suit. Ben could finally touch himself because you were safe now. Knowing that you would find out what he was doing in the bathroom caused his lips to twist into a smile.

You tried to fall asleep, shifting on the bed to a more comfortable position as you heard Ben turn on the water. But as soon as you closed your eyes, you heard him growling low as he stroked himself under the water. He was touching himself furiously because he knew you would hear anything he was doing, even if you weren't trying to listen.

Ben was moaning your name and moving faster as you cursed your supe hearing. As you moved into the bed, your cheeks flushed, yet you kept quiet.

Ben noticed that you were pressing your legs together as though your body were trying to find relief, so he growled and beat his cock more.

Feeling closer, he passionately exclaimed, “Fucking touch yourself. I fucking missed you and your little pussy so much.”

As he continued to talk dirty about how hard he would fuck and how many times he would come inside of you if you let him, your cheeks grew red, and you finally muttered, “Stop it.”

He trembled and whispered while wet sounds filled the bathroom, “Almost there, sweetheart,” as if hearing your voice were to give him pleasure.

Ben groaned and began to cum while murmuring your name. Your walls were tightening around nothing, and even though your body was screaming for you to touch yourself, you ignored the aching between your legs as he kept spilling his thick white ropes in between his powerful strokes that filled the bathroom. It took him long to empty his heavy balls. It was only when he let out a satisfied moan that you realized you were holding your breath.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Ben knew you still cared and desired him as much as he did, and he would fucking do everything to show to you that you and he were meant to be together.

Next Chapter

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl2 @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @jenn-777q

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

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merrybloomwrites · 1 month ago

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Safe and Sound

Summary: Being an online personality on a well known Youtube channel comes with it's fair amount of attention. But when one fan starts to get too close for comfort, Spencer is there to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.6K

CW: stalker, getting drugged

AN: Another story for Whumptober! This has been in my mind for awhile so I'm happy to share this protective Spencer story with you all! It's a bit of a heavier story again so please make sure to note the content warning and please don't read if those topics make you uncomfortable or trigger you in any way.

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You always knew that there are people on the internet that are creeps. Or are just plain weird. Getting a job as a cast member as Smosh only confirmed that fact.

It doesn’t happen every time you're in a video, but you’ll occasionally see some odd comments about you. People who hate you, people who love you a bit too much, people who notice the tiniest, most random things about you. It’s a bit off-putting, but not enough to really concern you. They’re just randos on the internet you will never interact with in real life.

But then you start to get this weird feeling whenever you leave your apartment. You figure you’re just being paranoid, but still, it’s uncomfortable. Almost as though you’re being watched.

It’s disconcerting, but temporary, and by the time you arrive at work, or the grocery store, or the local bar to hang with friends, you’ve forgotten all about it.

And then the letters start. Letters sent to your apartment with no return address. They’re typed, even your address isn’t handwritten but rather stamped on.

As though the anonymity wasn’t bad enough, the content of the letters had your anxiety spiking. The person was clearly unwell, and obsessed with you. Sentences like, “I need to have you,” and “you will be mine” are all too common in their writing.

You bring the letters to the police and explain what your job is to give context of how this stalker probably found you. They say they’ll look into it, but there’s not much they can do.

Disheartened, you try to protect yourself as much as you can. You get extra locks for your doors and windows, as well as install cameras to catch anyone who may get close to your home. It’s not much, but at least you can feel a bit safer when you’re at your apartment.

You tell Ian and Anthony as well as a couple other higher ups at Smosh to make them aware of the situation. They ask if you want to take a step back from appearing in videos for the time being, but you want to continue on like usual. Whoever this person is, you refuse to let them force you to change things about your life.

The letters continue, roughly one a week for a few months. You bring all of them to the police, trying to help get to the bottom of this, but you have nothing else to go on.

Then one day as you leave for work, you have that feeling of being watched once again. You scan the area and notice a person sitting on a bench in the park across the street. Which wouldn’t be weird, except this man seems to be looking directly at you. It could be a coincidence, but something has you feeling like it may be something more sinister. You take out your phone and try to discreetly take a video of this person.

You debate over sending the video to the police officer you’ve been in contact with, but since the person isn’t doing anything obviously nefarious, it would probably be a waste of everyone’s time. You do show it to Ian when you get to the office. You’re not sure why you share it, maybe you want him to validate you that it’s weird, or maybe you want him to tell you it’s totally normal and everything is fine.

What you don’t realize is that it isn’t just you and Ian in the kitchen, but that Spencer has overheard the conversation as well.

“Wait, what’s going on?” he says, walking over to you, a confused look on his face.

“I, uhm, well I kind of seem to have a stalker,” you state.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? Are you safe?” he asks worriedly.

“Yea. I mean, I think so. Mostly it’s just letters getting mailed to my house. But I’ve been having this weird feeling like I’m being watched. And there was this guy looking at me from the park this morning, but I think that’s just a coincidence.”

“Y/N, that’s-” he stands there at a loss for words. “That sounds dangerous, like bad news waiting to happen.”

“I’ve gone to the police,” you explain. “They have all the information I have. But there’s nothing they can do, at least not yet.”

“You mean not until something bad happens. I hate that.”

“I’ve done everything I can to protect my home so I feel safe there. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t stay.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But if you ever don’t feel safe, you can come stay with me,” Spencer says.

“Or me,” Ian adds.

“Thanks guys. I promise that if it gets worse then I’ll take one of you up on that offer.”

It’s nice to know that they have your back, that you have places you can go if anything were to happen. Because while you try to stay positive, you can’t lie. You’re scared. You’re scared that whoever this person is will do something more serious. And as terrifying as that is, you’re less anxious knowing you have people you can turn to.

More weeks pass, and the letters continue. You see the same man twice more at the park, taking videos each time. After the third, you do send all of them to the police, since there now seems to be a pattern. The officer you speak with assures you that they’re looking into it, trying to identify the man. She also asks you to call them if he shows up again.

The following Friday a group of your friends decide to hang at a local bar to celebrate the end of a long filming week. You have a drink, dance with some friends, and for a moment, you forget about your problems.

But the feeling of being watched comes back. This time it’s worse than ever, your skin prickling with anxiety. Scanning the room, you notice a man whose eyes are locked on you. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t place where you might know him from.

Brushing it off, you go up to the bar to order another drink. It’s a busy night, and the bar is crowded so it takes a few minutes for you to get served. You scan the room, trying to find that guy again but you’ve lost him amongst the sea of people.

When you look back at the bar your cocktail is waiting for you so you place down your cash, grab your drink, and head back to your friends. You dance with them again, taking sips of your drink and just letting loose.

After a little while you start to feel a bit dizzy and figure that the cocktail must be pretty strong. You slow down, drinking less and trying to take deep breaths to combat the lightheadedness. It doesn’t seem to be helping, and you start to feel a bit nauseous, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You walk to the hallway on unsteady legs, and miraculously are able to use the restroom. You slowly wash your hands, concentrating deeply on the task.

On your way back to your friends you get confused, taking a wrong turn and going down the wrong hallway. It’s dark back here, and if you were more coherent you’d realize that customers aren’t supposed to be here, and the only door leads to a storage room.

Turning around you find that you’re suddenly not alone. A tall man is there smiling at you. It’s not someone you recognize but you have a vague sense that you should know him. He steps closer and you start to feel anxious, not liking the situation you’ve found yourself in.

“Excuse me,” you try to say, but your mouth feels almost numb, and you’re not sure the words actually came out.

“I’m glad I found you Y/N,” he says. You stare at him, trying to figure out how you know him. “It’s time to get going, sweetheart.”

He starts to lead you away and you follow, unable to come up with a reason to stay. The music gets louder, lights are flashing in your eyes, and you’re becoming more and more disoriented.

The next thing you know, a group of your friends are frantically speaking to you, the man nowhere to be found. You desperately try to focus on any one thing, but it’s chaos all around you. Hands cup your face and you flinch before meeting the eyes of the person who placed them there so gently.

“Spencer?” you ask, needing confirmation that your muddled mind has at least one thing correct.

“Yea, it’s Spencer,” he replies as he moves his hands off of you, relieved that he now has your attention. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You shake your head no.

“Do you know who that man is?” Spencer asks.

Again you just shake your head.

You sway on your feet and Spencer quickly steps in and helps you sit on the floor. You lean your head back against the wall, but you find that makes the dizziness worse, so you rest it on your knees instead. You’re turned to look at Spencer, needing to focus on something safe right now.

There’s more commotion, and you watch as Spencer speaks with a couple of people in uniform. He places a calming hand on your back and tries asking you more questions, but everything is too murky for you to understand.

You’re so drowsy, and you stop fighting your heavy eyelids, letting them close as the world around you finally goes quiet.

You’re not out for long, waking up a short while later in the ambulance. Spencer is still there, now holding onto your hand.

At the hospital a lovely doctor checks you over to make sure you’re not injured. She takes blood and gives you some IV hydration. By the time you’re discharged, the world has stopped spinning and you’re able to understand and answer the questions you’re being asked.

Two of the police officers come to the hospital to speak with you now that you’re more coherent, and you tell them about the man. One of the officers is the woman you’d been in contact with regarding the letters and the stranger at the park and she pulls up the pictures you had taken as well as a still from the security footage from the bar.

Your blood runs cold as you realize that it is absolutely the same person. Just a moment ago you were reeling from the fact that you had been roofied. And now you find out that it wasn’t just some random guy that did it, but instead one who has been stalking you for months. You weren’t drugged on some whim. This had to have been planned, thought out for who knows how long.

You keep it together until the police officers leave and then you turn to Spencer, eyes wide and filling with tears.

After taking a deep breath you say, “Thank you so much for finding me. I can’t imagine what he would have done if you hadn’t come looking for me.”

“I would never have been able to forgive myself if anything happened to you,” is his reply.

You can’t think of anything to say in reply, so you choose to lean into his side instead. He wraps an arm around you, and it might be your imagination, but you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

“C’mon. The guys dropped my car off, let’s get you home,” Spencer says.

“No!” You quickly shout. “He knows where I live. He’ll find me there.”

“Y/N, they have him down at the police station. But I actually didn’t mean your home. I meant mine, if you’re alright with that.”

“Oh. Yes, please, I’m good with that.”

Spencer keeps his arm around your waist as he leads you out of the hospital and to his car in the nearby lot. He opens the passenger door and pulls out a sweatshirt. He helps you pull it over your head before you sit in the seat. You struggle a moment with the seatbelt, and he leans in to click it for you. It’s embarrassing, him having to do all of this because you’re still so shaky, but he doesn’t see it that way.

He talks the whole way to his place, and you’re grateful for the random stories that fill the silence. It keeps your mind from slipping into the dark fearful thoughts that keep trying to pop up.

Once at his apartment he asks if you want to take a shower or get some sleep.

“Shower first, if that’s okay?” you answer.

“Of course it’s okay. Whatever you need,” he replies. “I’ll get some breakfast ready as well. Anything particular you want?”

Your stomach is still unsettled so you ask if it’s possible to just have toast.

“I think I can handle toast,” he says with a smile, causing you to giggle. “I’ll make you a smoothie too, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

Spencer leads you to the bathroom where he starts the shower and shows you how to change the temperature of the water. He steps out for a moment and comes back with a stack of clean clothes for you to wear.

“I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything,” he says before he leaves the room.

You shower as quickly as you can, wanting to get back to Spencer. Being alone is the last thing you want right now, but you also need to wash last night off of you so you can feel clean.

It feels amazing to slip into Spencer’s cozy sweats, his old, worn t-shirt, and soft hoodie.

He’s in the kitchen and you watch as he butters toast and pours the smoothie into two cups. Breakfast is quiet as you focus on eating slowly so as to not upset your stomach. You finish as much as you can before the exhaustion really sets in.

“C’mon, you need to sleep,” he says. The polite part of you wants to help clear the dishes as a thank you, but he’s right. You can barely stay upright on the way to his room. He closes the blinds and tucks you in, and you fall asleep almost immediately.

You’re not sure how long you sleep before a nightmare has you jolting awake, screaming.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks as he runs into the room.

He sits on the bed beside you and you try to explain the dream you’d just had in which Spencer hadn’t saved the day and you’d ended up with that man. But as you go to speak nothing comes out except a shattered sob.

Without hesitation he pulls you to him and holds you close. He gently rocks you as he tells you, “You’re safe, you got away, he can’t get you,” over and over until the message sinks in.

You don’t say anything, but slowly your tears fade away and your eyes start to feel heavy once again. You want to lay back down and rest some more, but you don’t want Spencer to leave again.

“Stay. Please.”

It’s all you get out before you fall back to sleep.

You wake up hours later with Spencer still holding you, and for the first time in months, you know that you’re safe, and that everything is going to be okay.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you for reading! I only have one or two more Spencer story ideas so lmk if you have any requests!

#spencer agnew x reader #smosh x reader #smosh fanfiction

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andy-wm · 1 year ago

Text

I have thoughts about the Watch with Jimin livestream...

How do i love thee? Let me count the ways...

I did in fact do some counting. I counted Jimin's blink rate during the almost two minutes he watched JK recording the back-up vocals for Letter to Army. And yes, it was a labour of love, especially since I don't enjoy numbers... they're tricksy squirmy little gremlins that do sneaky things like divide themslves in two, or become imaginary.

But for the sake of science and Jikookery, I counted how many times - and when - Jimin blinked during this sequence.

Overall, nothing unusual to report. The average number of times a person blinks in a minute is approximately 15. In the 1m55s of video I captured, Jimin blinked 33 times. Unremarkable.

Except...

The pattern of how much he blinked changed markedly depending on who was on screen.

When Jmin was watching himself, he blinked far more than when he was watching JK. Frequent blinking can be a sign of stress, and there were a number of other clues too, that Jimin wasn't all that comfortable watching himself: giggling, hiding his face, selfconsciously flicking his hair, playing with his hands etc etc.

When JK was on screen Jimin sat still, his gaze fixed on JK. Often his mouth fell open just a little, his lips parted as though he was entranced. In fact, during the first 20 seconds of the footage when he's leaning forward staring intently at JK, he only blinks 4 times.

And that's a clue to another factor at play here...

There's a phenomenon in the psychology of attraction called a COPULATORY GAZE. When someone stares intently at a person they find attractive, that's what it's called.

It's a COPULATORY GAZE.

So it's not just a minor fascination he has going on, or a bit of focused admiration.

Translated to the coloquial, I guess you could call it EYE FUCKING.

Yes, eye fucking is a scientific phenomenon.

But wait, there's more...

Towards the end of this segment of Watch With Jimin, when JK is done recording and he and Jimin are on screen together, something happens to our dear Jiminie on the livestream.

It involves a bit of eye fucking and lip licking (licking, tongue movement, swallowing, all necessary to deal with the saliva that accumulates in your mouth when you're aroused.) Yes, it seems our boy has a visceral response watching the doco, particularly when JK plays around with him on screen.

JK says he's going to feature in Jimin's concert, and he then moves towards Jimin and says (you can't make this stuff up istg) "I will do this behind you." Right, he's just talking about singing the back up vocals.

Jimin is absolutely transfixed though. He swallows with some difficulty. His chest is visibly rising and falling. He's breathing hard and I'm sure that's not all.

Now realistically we've seen them flirt and tease each other so many times that what they're doing in that studio isn't even worth mentioning. And we know Jimin pushes JK's buttons on screen far more than this, apparently just for fun. So why is this little te-ta-te getting Jimin all hot and bothered (because there's no question, that is what's happening).

There's only one thing i can think of.

It's because he's watching it on screen.

I cannot think of ANY other reason that this lukewarm bit of playfulness would make him literally breathless.

And ya know, because i'm a dirty boy with a wild imagination, this leads me to think of all those times they've flirted onscreen...

Does Jimin go home and watch Bangtan TV clips and get all shook up?

Is he bookmarking all the YT complilations of him and JK doing questionable things, and using them for his own nefarious purposes?

I don't even want to think about the footage that gets deleted, the stuff that's too risque to put in a Bangtan Bomb. I picture Jimin scooping it up off the cutting room floor and stuffing down his shirt to smuggle home.

And what about all the on-stage shenanigans at concerts? Kitty Gang Jimin comes to mind immediately.

Does he search for fancams - from LY Hong Kong maybe - and use them to cam his fan in the privacy of his bedroom?

Ok, I've reached that invisble line.... I'm going to stop RIGHT HERE.

You can decide for yourselves whether our mochi has a lil bit of an exhibitionist streak - whether the thought of doing questionable things in public with his buff boytoy revs his engine.

I'll leave you with this nugget of barely suppressed lust, and I'm not just talking about the goings-on on stage. The whole vibe of this concert is feral. I am forever sorry to have missed this one...

(The two women in the bottom right corner are amost as entertaining as the boys imo... pretty sure one of them drops their army bomb haha...)

#jeon jungguk #park jimin #jikook #kookmin #국민 #jungkook #true love #copulatory gaze #kitty gang jimin #Letter to Army #Jungkook vocals #watch with jimin #jimin documentary #jimin weverse live

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her-satanic-wiles · 5 months ago

Text

Dawn Chorus - II

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6k.

Reading Time: 24 min.

Warnings: blood drinking, blood syphoning/collecting, body horror,caging a living being, feelings of abandonment, graphic injuries, near-death experiences,needles, suggestion of sexual assault (but nothing happens), torture, violence

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @antoniamarie1989

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

Whenever the door was closed, the room was so dark you could barely see a thing. With the exception of your halo in the corner, there were no lights, no sounds, nothing to see or do save feel the tingling of hellfire beneath your skin, seeping through your white robe like water and soaking the very fibre of your being. You were sure that your wrists were red raw by the metal that had strapped you to the crucifix, but you only knew this because of the pain you felt from them. Time was irrelevant in this room, and you were unsure of how much of it had passed until the door would open and the Sister and Cardinal would walk in.

They’d never formally introduced themselves to you, as was usually customary of the mortals two-thousand years ago. But they always referred to each other as those titles, bastardising the roles of the Almighty’s most sacred for their own personal enjoyment. Imagine that, a vampyre parading as a cardinal, in the uniform and everything, fangs bore proudly as he cited unholy scriptures and said the Infernal One’s name as though it were a blessing. You weren’t sure which was worse: the followers of Satan parading around in sacred clothes and playing games with the Devil, or the sacred committing the sins of the Devil on hallowed ground. Either way, your stomach churned at the thought of it.

You’d lost count of how many times your faith had wavered and been restored and wavered again, repeating the process in the darkness of the basement, growing madder and madder with each hour that passed. Sometimes you wondered if this was all a test, His way of making you come to your senses and believe in Him again. The rest of the time, you were convinced that this was a punishment - that for the first time since eternity began, He personally liasoned with the Devil and gifted you to his followers to atone for your sins, and punish you for your crimes. Your resilience never faltered, though; either as a credit to your bravery, or your foolishness. Perhaps there was a part of you deep down that was convinced you’d be rescued and rewarded for your silence. You would never give them what they wanted, no matter what they put you through.

Every day, they’d both unleash a fresh version of Hell onto you, finding new ways to bring pain to your physical body as though they were experimenting because, as you’d come to learn in the many hours of being trapped down there, they were experimenting. In all the years they’d been alive, never once had they got hold of an angel - not until you came crashing down into their yard like a gift from the universe. They’d read books, referenced them, even brought them down to practice on you to see which things would work. They’d stand there, arguing with each other about which methods were best and why the other one was wrong.

“We should freeze her wings,” the Sister suggested, eyes fixed on the book in her hands, “it’ll be easier to chip them off if we need some cash.”

“Be real,” the Cardinal scoffed, “how are we gonna bring an entire ice machine down here to freeze her wings? This part of the Ministry doesn’t even have any electricity… and they’re huge.”

The Sister, still fixated on her book, muttered with determination, “Then we’ll find another way. We can use cold water or dry ice. We need that information, and if chipping off her wings is the only way to get it, then so be it.”

The Cardinal sighed, clearly exasperated by the older woman, “They’re made of feathers, Sister.” He walked over to you and plucked another feather from your wing. At this point, you were almost used to the sensation, and barely flinched. “They probably won’t freeze.”

The Sister, undeterred by the Cardinal’s scepticism, retorted with a hint of frustration, “Then we’ll find something else to break her spirit. We can’t let her keep withholding information from us.”

The information they wanted from you today was how to use your own halo against you, as if you’d offer up that information at all.

“And that’s why I suggested we get creative about where we burn the hellfire,” the Cardinal responded.

The Sister’s eyes gleamed with a dark intensity as she considered the Cardinal’s suggestion. “Yes, creative indeed,” she replied, her voice low and calculating. “Perhaps we start with the tips of her wings. It may not freeze them, but it will surely send a message.”

“Nah. Did you see the way she didn’t flinch? Her wings are pretty much desensitised at this point.”

The Sister’s expression hardened, her determination unyielding. “Then we’ll find another way to make her talk,” she declared, her tone resolute. “There must be something that will break through her defences. She’s gonna have to crack at some point.” She looked at you and closed the book, her hand reaching out to your hair and grasping the strands. “What makes you tick, Angel?”

“I shall not divulge aught unto thee. Thou might as well relent and set me free.” You hissed, your tone oozing with hatred. Another sin to add to your growing collection.

The Sister still looked at you, but addressed the Cardinal as she spoke, “Do we still have those pokers? The ones with His sigil on them?”

“Somewhere,” the Cardinal replied, nonplussedly.

“Get them.”

“But they’re all the way-”

“Get them.” The Sister’s tone was vile, filled with disdain and anger. “And bring some hellfire while you’re up there.” She let go of your hair and took a small step back.

The Cardinal rolled his eyes like a petulant child and left the room, only to return moments later. “A ghoul will get them.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Mine.”

The Sister nodded, never taking her eyes off you. Suddenly, a dark flicker passed through them. “The feral one?”

The Cardinal nodded, “Why?”

“Maybe we should leave him alone with our guest. The feral one has a lot of Lord Asmodeus in him, maybe he’d be useful.”

The Cardinal shook his head. “No, he’s too unpredictable. He wouldn’t ravage her in the way we’d like, he’d devour her.”

Your heart rate picked up, “What dost thou mean by this?”

The Sister smiled, an unsettling grin that sent cold shivers down your spine. “Oh, Angel. This demon is truly feral, trained by the Dark Lord Asmodeus himself.” She reached her hand up to stroke your cheek. “He takes great pleasure in the fear and pain of others. A visit from him would ensure your purity is shattered.”

In her gloating, she didn’t realise she’d allowed her hand to wander too close to your mouth. The second you were able, you leaned into her touch and sank your teeth into her flesh, hearing her scream echoing off the walls of the chamber. She managed to tear herself away from you, and clutched her aching hand in her other one. You caught a look at the wound and silently thanked yourself for not drawing blood, concerned about what would happen to you if you ingested the blood of a vampyre. In no time at all, the Sister’s uninjured hand (now clenched into a fist) charged at you and struck your cheek, causing your head to spin to face the other side of the room, where the Cardinal was watching the exchange with a grin on his lips.

“You bitch!” the Sister exclaimed, going back to nursing her injured hand.

The Cardinal sprang forward towards you and lifted your lips, inspecting your teeth. “Sister, she’s got fangs, too!” He shouted, almost excitedly. “Tiny little fangs. Kitten fangs. Adorable.”

“Yeah, I just found that out, you idiot! You’re welcome.” The Sister punctuated her sentence with a whisper. A small sound of pain like a wounded animal.

The Cardinal remained smiling, clearly enjoying this, “That wasn’t very kind of you, Angel.” He placed the heel of his palm on your chin and lifted your head to expose your neck. “You’re not the only fanged creature in this room who can bite, though.”

You felt his breath on your neck, and then you felt it: a sharp, searing pain as the Cardinal’s fangs sank into your neck, piercing your flesh with a vicious intent. The taste of your blood filled his mouth, warm and metallic, as he greedily drank from your veins. Each gulp sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of agony and horror washing over you as you realised the depths of depravity to which they had sunk. Helpless and powerless, you could only endure the torment inflicted upon you, your body growing weaker with each passing moment.

Your initial struggles against the Cardinal’s assault were futile, as the bonds that held you captive rendered your movements feeble and ineffectual. Despite your desperate attempts to resist, the restraints held you firmly in place, leaving you utterly vulnerable to his predatory advance. Each tug against the chains only served to tighten their grip, further entangling you in a web of helplessness and despair. Forced to endure the violation against your will, you could do nothing but endure the agonizing ordeal, your cries drowned out by the darkness that enveloped you.

The Cardinal pulled back, the sound of his lips smacking together in your ear as he delighted in the taste of your blood. “Sister, I think it’s time for some payback. You’ve gotta try this.” He suggested, before diving back in for another bite.

The Sister’s presence loomed over you, a sinister shadow in the dimly lit chamber. With a chilling calmness, she approached, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. Without a word, she positioned herself beside the Cardinal, mirroring his predatory stance. In unison, they descended upon you, their fangs sinking into your flesh with a savage hunger. The sensation was unbearable, a symphony of pain and violation echoing through your senses. As they drank deeply from your veins, their insatiable thirst seemed to know no bounds, consuming you with a relentless fervour.

You could feel your strength ebbing away, your consciousness fading into darkness as they continued their merciless assault. Each bite felt like a cruel mockery of your suffering, a reminder of your powerlessness in the face of their depravity. Their little grunts of delight at your evident deliciousness echoing as your eyes began to close, giggles coming from their throats as though they were somewhat inebriated. Those giggles were the last thing you heard when your consciousness slipped away entirely, and you were plunged into a darkness worse than the one they’d left you in.

When you woke up, you were in complete darkness. Your neck throbbed in agony in the two places they were the last time you saw them, and you remembered what they did to you. You still felt groggy, like you hadn’t completely rested. Your arms were stinging from where you fought against the vampyres, your wings felt dead where they’d been hanging for so long without movement. You tried to flap them just to stretch them out, but your body just wouldn’t respond. You felt your eyes grow heavier again, and soon you were slipping off into the abyss a second time.

You woke up again and some time had passed, and this time you felt more refreshed. Your bones still ached and your wings still felt dead, but your whole body had healed. You were sure if you looked in a mirror, the bite marks would be gone, and all of the feathers they pulled would have grown back. Your halo had worked quickly from the corner of the room to bring you back to full health, and you intended to use that to your advantage as much as you could. You started squirming in your binds, fighting against the metal chains to free yourself from them. You kicked your feet trying to free your ankles, too. But your feet were well and truly tied. One of the chains however, the right one, allowed you with just enough wiggle room to scoot your hand halfway out, being trapped in the palm. Your skin burned anew under the hellfire forged material, but time was of the essence and your health and strength would only deteriorate again and leave you trapped there for who knew how long. And so, you pulled, and you pulled, and you pulled.

Suddenly, with a loud clanging of the chain against the metal crucifix, your right hand pulled free. You still could only see the areas where the light from your halo was shining, but that was one hand that you’d managed to save. You reached across your body, as difficult as it was to do, in an attempt to free the second hand. You fiddled with the chain, pulling both your hand and pushing the chain as much as you could, wiggling it when it wouldn’t give, until your second hand was free. You rubbed your raw wrists with you palms, trying to soothe the ache as much as you could without ointment or your halo doing all of the work for you - an instinctual movement that helped nothing except your peace of mind. Your skin did feel incredibly warm from the irritation, almost like an allergic reaction you’d seen in mortals over the years you’d spent with them.

Your ankles were the next to attempt freedom, but they were tied the tightest. The position that you were in meant it was difficult to try and pull the chain off and apart without falling off the raised structure and doing some serious damage to your body.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you carefully manoeuvred your body, inching further down until you resembled a frog, and gripped on tightly to the chain that strapped you down. With your free hand, you reached down, feeling along the cold metal links for any signs of weakness or opportunity. Gritting your teeth against the pain, you began to tug and twist at the chain, using all your strength to pry it apart. Each movement sent a jolt of agony through your body, but you pushed through, determined to break free from your bonds. As you worked, beads of sweat formed on your brow, mingling with the burning sensation of your irritated skin. With each passing moment, your efforts grew more frantic, your desperation driving you onwards despite the odds stacked against you. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggle, you felt a faint give in the chain. With a surge of adrenaline, you redoubled your efforts, pulling with all your might until, with a resounding clang, the chain loosened enough for you to slide your ankles out. But victory was still far from your grasp.

With your sharp sense of hearing returned thanks to your full bill of health, you could hear people descending the stairs just outside your room. You had to think, and do so quickly. It sounded like five people, and you were without your halo with a weakened holy light. There was nothing you could do that wouldn’t end in disaster for you - you couldn’t fight them off and make a run for it. You remembered the Cardinal dragging you into the building when you first landed, and you saw just how big it was. Of course there would be hundreds of mortals here keeping it clean and working. If you miraculously managed to escape the basement, how many more mortals would you face? How many more of the Almighty’s creations would you send to His enemy? With a deftness and a speed, the likes of which you’d never seen in yourself before, you worked to put yourself back into the chains as much as you could so as not to arouse suspicion. The time to escape would come soon, but it wouldn’t be now.

You quickly tucked your ankles back where they were, making sure that the chain was loose enough in the future for you to attempt a second escape.

The sound of keys clanking outside drew your attention to the door. Someone had put a key in the lock.

You quickly put your left hand back in the chain.

The door unlocked, and the handle jiggled.

You fought with the chain and your right hand, trying to tuck it in as the door began to open.

“Ah,” the Sister said when she looked at you, giving your body a once over, “look who’s finally decided to join the land of the living again.”

You’d done it. You’d sighed out your relief. “Art thou here to imbibe more of my life’s essence, vampyre?”

“I’ve had my fill, thank you. Very delicious, though. I’ve not drunk anything like that since my youth. ghouls?” As you watched the Sister pick up your halo, the ‘ghouls’ that were mentioned before came trudging into the room. There were four of them in total, and they’d clearly been briefed before they entered the room as they began to work quickly. Two went to the chains on your wrists and two went to work on the chains around your ankles, loosening them and freeing you. As soon as the chains were off, though, they wrapped their hands around your body to stop you from running.

For the first time in a long time, your bare feet touched the ground, the cold, stone floors freezing your soles to the point where it felt painful. The floor was damp, too. It was only then, in the light of the hallway, you were able to see that the floor had been haphazardly cleaned, and the red coating was your blood from when the vampyres had feasted on you before. Someone had tried to clear it up, but had missed several spots.

The Sister was the first to exit the room, carrying your halo tightly in her grasp. The ghouls were practically carrying you out of the room and up the stairs, away from the torture chamber that you’d currently resided in. You felt nerves wash over you, dread pooling in your stomach at the unknown. “Whither dost thou convey me?” You asked, trying your best to sound assertive but hearing your voice crack towards the end.

“To your new accommodations, my liege,” the Sister said, her voice in a mocking tone.

“If thou permit me to depart now, I shall not cause thee any distress. Simply restore unto me my halo, allow my departure, and thou shalt never encounter me again.”

The Sister stopped on the staircase, in turn forcing her ghouls to do the same thing. “Let you leave?” she asked. She ran her fingertips over the side of your neck where she bit you. “And why would I do that?”

“Perchance there lies some goodness within thee, after all.”

She laughed. “In me? How stupid of you. You do realise where you are, don’t you?”

“This be the domain of the Devil, and thou art a disciple of his.”

“Smart angel.” She tapped your cheek twice, patronising a being far older than here because she could. She turned and continued to walk up the stairs, allowing the ghouls to drag you after her. “You’ll find no goodness in me, Angel. I can promise you that.”

The staircase you were travelling on gradually became grander and grander the higher up you went. They were in a spiral shape, and gradually faded from uneven stone steps, to smooth, white marble. Eventually, you were pulled through a door and into a flat corridor.

The walls in this corridor were smaller than the walls of the basement hallway, and were so pristine, they acted as a perfect reflection for anyone who passed them. The walls and floors were made of the same white marble as before, except this time, there was a pattern on the ground. Black marble outlined the floor, creating a separation between the walls and the ground, and there were black diamond tiles placed strategically in certain areas to provide some visual break up between different sections. At the very end of the corridor was a window, made entirely from painted glass. This painting was in the shape of a rose, surrounded by flowers of other colours - those colours ended up running along the ceiling’s windows, giving the room a colourful glow, or rather, it would if the sun were shining. This was not at all something you’d expect to see in the House of Satan. And, given the cleanliness of the walls and floors, the colours of the windows reflected perfectly on the marble, making the hallway feel brighter.

You all continued on the journey, going down more and more hallways that looked vaguely similar to the first, except this time it was on the second floor. You could hear the ghouls panting in your ears as they were exhausted from carrying you all the way up from the basement, and up multiple storeys before they were able to fully let you go.

The Sister walked into a room with an open door and disappeared inside of it, waiting for you and the ghouls to enter after her.

This room was almost entirely in stark contrast to the hallways you’d just been dragged down. It was a living space, designed with dark trappings and wooden furnishings to make the rich colours pop. At the centre of the room stood a grand fireplace, its ornate mantelpiece carved with intricate patterns of gargoyles and grotesque figures. Above, a massive mirror stretched from mantle to ceiling, its antique frame gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. Furniture crafted from dark, polished wood filled the space, their intricate carvings adding to the room’s dark allure. A velvet sofa, upholstered in deep shades of burgundy and black, beckoned you to sink into its plush cushions and lose yourself in reverie.

In one corner, a towering bookcase stretched from floor to ceiling, its shelves lined with leather-bound tomes and ancient manuscripts. A brass candelabra stood sentinel atop the highest shelf, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Against another wall, a grand piano stood, its ebony keys gleaming in the dim light. A few steps away, a small writing desk nestled in a pool of shadows, its surface adorned with pens, notebooks, and papers.

The walls were adorned with rich, velvet tapestries, depicting scenes of medieval knights and mythical creatures in intricate detail. Heavy, brooding drapes hung from tall windows, and remained closed to keep the sunlight at bay.

“Where doth our current location lie?” you asked, eyes scanning the entire room.

“Copia’s quarters,” the Sister responded matter-of-factly, “the Cardinal’s, I mean.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at the Sister, almost forgetting the feel of the ghouls hands on your arms. “Copia?” You tasted your captor’s name on your tongue, and it tasted strange. “Is that the appellation of the male vampyre?”

The Sister rolled her eyes. “Not just a pretty face, are you? Yes, that’s his name. Copia. And he would have shown you here himself but he’s busy.”

“Am I destined to dwell herein?”

“Until we decide to kill you - this way.”

She moved to the left door and walked through it, holding it open for the ghouls to drag you through.

As you entered the bedroom, an atmosphere of haunting elegance enveloped you, transporting you to another era. The walls were draped in heavy, brooding tapestries, adorned with intricate patterns of pointed arches and twisting vines that seemed to writhe in the flickering candlelight. The curtains of the windows inside this room were closed just as the others were.

At the heart of the room stood a grand four-poster bed, its towering canopy shrouded in layers of dark velvet that cascaded to the floor in a tumble of luxurious folds. The bed itself was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, with intricately carved wooden panels depicting scenes of dark romance and mythical creatures.

Beside the bed, two cages captured your attention. The first, a small birdcage, stood delicately adorned with ornate scrollwork and delicate brass accents. Within, a single black, velvet pillow sat at the floor, not at all big enough to humanely fit a bird inside, but as the Sister moved towards it, you realised it wasn’t meant for a bird at all, not as she rested your halo inside of it. The Sister left it there, and closed the door, locking it and pocketing the key. She turned to you with a smug expression on her face. “This cage was forged in the pits of Hell themselves,” she told you, “it was designed specifically for a halo, and to keep a halo away from creatures like you. You can try to get in there as much as you like, but you’ll be burned so badly, you’ll scream for death.”

You stared at her, disbelief evident on your face, “For what reason hast thou brought me hither?”

“This is your new home. The door will be locked with a key only me and the Cardinal have. All of the windows are made from a similar forging as the cage, meaning you can’t escape out of them either. And, just to top it all off, the room itself is encased in Hell-forged metal. Do you feel your powers weakening already?” You did, but you didn’t want to tell her that. “We’re still going to get the information we need out of you one way or another, little angel.”

“But wherefore wouldst thou provide me with a chamber such as this? Wherefore not keep me bound below in the cellar?”

The Sister sighed, clearly exasperated by your questions. “Something, something, free range chicken. Apparently food tastes better when it’s less stressed.” She looked at her watch. “Unless you’d rather stay down there?”

“Is that to be mine?” You asked, pointing at the cage beside the birdcage.

Its golden bars gleaming in the dim light. Unlike its avian counterpart, this cage exuded an air of opulence and grandeur, its detailed design hinting at a darker purpose. Fashioned from gleaming gold-plated metal, the cage radiated a luminous glow that bathed the room in a soft, golden light. Its imposing frame rose majestically from the floor, reaching towards the ceiling with a graceful elegance that belied its inherent captivity. Decorating the cage were precociously woven into patterns of delicate vines, twisted filigree, and pointed arches that seemed to dance and intertwine with one another, representing just how trapped you were going to feel. The bars of the cage were thick and sturdy, yet delicately wrought, forming a lattice of gleaming metal that enclosed the space within. Each bar was meticulously carved with ornate details, from intricate floral motifs to intricate patterns of leaves and tendrils that seemed to sway with an unseen breeze.

At the top of the cage, a domed roof rose in a graceful curve, its surface adorned with shimmering crystals and polished gemstones that caught the light and cast dazzling reflections across the room. It was tall enough for you to stand in, and wide enough for you to sit in, but it didn’t span the height of the room like you would have hoped if this was to be yours. You couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you gazed upon it, the contrast between the delicate birdcage and the imposing golden cage adding to the room’s eerie ambiance.

“Right again,” Imperator said, opening the door to the cage and expecting you to walk in, “in you get, little birdie.”

“I am thankful for the offer, but I believe I would prefer the cellar.” You struggled to try and get out of the ghoul’s grasp, but they held on far too tightly, there was no way that you could.

“It’s not a suggestion. Either you get in willingly, or we force you in. And this bad boy was made with hellfire too,” the Sister cackled, “strong stuff. If we force you inside, it’s going to hurt.”

You had never really experienced the sting of hellfire before - not anything stronger than the crucifix in the basement, anyway. There was a part of you that wanted to test it, to test her, but perhaps now wasn’t the best time, especially when there was so little room to move. You took a step forward and shrugged the ghouls off you, deciding to play her little game for now. Carefully, you wrapped your wings around your body, tucking yourself in, and took a step in. You noticed that the floor of the cage was carpeted, meaning that they’d at least tried to keep you comfortable and give you some respite.

The Sister slammed the door shut behind you, locking it securely when you were completely inside. “Enjoy your stay,” she told you as she turned to leave the room, “we don’t care if you need anything.” And with that, she left, closing all the doors behind her to hide the rest of the world from you.

Immediately you loosened your wings enough to relax as much as you could, and placed your hand on the cage and tried to open the door, foolishly believing that she tricked you and it wasn’t actually locked, or even made with hellfire. The white hot, searing pain you felt as your skin touched the cage was worse than anything they inflicted on you in the basement. You could practically hear the sound of your skin sizzling under the intense heat, and soon enough small red welts appeared on your fingers where you’d touched the metal. You cried out in agony, doubling over with the pain and collapsing onto the carpeted floor. The hand that hadn’t touched the cage, applied pressure to your wound in a futile attempt to stop the pain, and when that failed, your body curled in on itself, putting you in the fetal position and praying that would stop the pain. Eventually, it subsided, and when you felt confident enough to look, you watched as your body began to slowly repair itself. What would be an almost instantaneous heal took at least two minutes before you were back to full health and the pain had completely subsided.

In that moment, though, everything felt bleak, and for the first time since crashing down to the planet, tears began to form in your eyes and spill out onto the carpet. You needed to leave, you knew that you did, but the lack of compassion from the undead beings that had captured you and the near-inescapable fortress you found yourself in had made you feel entirely hopeless. Abandoned by your creator, only to fall into the hands of sadistic vampyres that already had a taste for your blood, it truly felt as though you had nowhere left to turn, that you were stranded with beings that considered you more of a meal than a living and breathing creature. You wondered if you ever would escape, or if you’d be forced to spend your eternity here.

“Looks like someone didn’t listen to the good Sister when she told you not to touch the cage.”

The Cardinal’s voice snapped you out of your despair, forcing you upright on the floor and to look at him through wide, yet blurry eyes, broken up visibly by the bars that separated you both. You didn’t want him here, you didn’t want him to see you like this. “Why art thou present?” you sniffed, trying to hide your face from him. “Why canst thou not leave me in peace?”

“Aw,” he crouched down in front of you so that he was level with your eyes, “Did we finally break you, little angel?” His tone was filled with condescension and absolute disrespect. You could feel the joy oozing from him as he watched you like this, enjoying every tear that spilled over your waterline and was rubbed away by your hand. “You know, if you would just tell us what we want to know then all of this would go away.” He placed his hand on the door and unlocked it, moving out the way only enough to open it fully. He reached his hand inside, running his thumb over one of the stray tears that fell from your eyes and pulled his hand back in pain, the sound of sizzling echoing in your ears. Your tears had burned him, even just a little. It was good to keep in mind, at least.

“But, in the meantime,” he continued, shaking off the wetness from his finger and rubbing it on the carpet to ease the pain. His hands moved to your shoulders underneath your wings, and pulled you closer to him, making sure your neck was level with his mouth. Your uninjured hand propped you up on the carpet, trying not to rest your entire weight on him just in case he moved and you fell onto the bars. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

His fangs pierced your neck and you felt his tongue lave over the wound, his mouth sucking all the blood from your veins fervently. He groaned in appreciation when the first drop of your blood touched his taste buds, the kind of groan that would usually be followed by eyes rolling. You tried to push him off you again, but every time you did, he would just sink his fangs in harder, and make the whole experience more painful to you.

You tried to fight off the unconsciousness that was threatening to take over your body, truly you did. But once again, the familiar coldness of your very life essence being sucked from your body and the numbness that followed dragged you into a blackness you wished you’d never see again.

You woke some time later, curled in a ball on the carpeted floor of your cage, your entire body aching from the ordeal, but also from the many hours you’d spent on the ground. You still weren’t back to your full health, but because you were closer to your halo this time, the healing process was faster. Dawn had broken over the world, and sunlight had begun to seep into the room dulled by the thickness of the curtains, providing you with a comfort you’d not realised you’d needed.

You stood with a groan, stretching your limbs out one by one until the stiffness had ebbed away, following that with your wings. The two, extra limbs that hung from your back and span the length of your body were certainly grateful for the movement, even if you couldn’t properly spread them and get the exercise your body so desperately craved. In the bed, you saw the Cardinal, laying on top of the blankets and sleeping, your blood still staining his mouth. You’d always assumed that vampyres could only sleep in the coffins that they were buried in, but as it turned out not all of them were forced to have such an affliction.

Days begun to pass in a blur, causing you extra pain as now you could witness the passage of time from the comfort of your prison. You’d come to learn in that time, that angel blood was a particular delicacy for vampyres and demons, an intoxicating elixir that took the sobriety from the creatures of the underworld and allowed them to behave in all manner of ways. The Cardinal had decided to generously supply the rest of the supernatural beings with your blood, but wouldn’t allow any of them to come near you, meaning that every day he would come in with a plethora of empty wine bottles, lie you down, and stick two needles in the two crooks of your arms, directly into your veins. Each syringe connected to a tube which would gradually syphon your blood into those empty bottles, entirely uncaring of you or your wellbeing and almost killing you each and every time. He wouldn’t come in daily to do it, though he tried. Your body, without wearing your halo, just wouldn’t recover fast enough to do so, and he couldn’t risk your permanent demise, not when he had so much at stake. He would only come back when you were well enough, and reminded you how you ought to be grateful for that as he pricked the needles into your veins.

One evening, while you sat in your cage, a man entered the room. At first, he was simply cleaning the room, eyes focussed on his task and paying you no mind at all. But you noticed that every so often, he’d look up at you, briefly making eye contact, then turning his head away quickly as though he’d just done something wrong. Every other day from then on, you saw him, watched him, looked onto his face as he went about his business and then left a few short hours after.

And one day, you finally plucked the courage to wave at him.

Prev. ⛧ Next

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howlingday · 8 months ago

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Lord Taurus

Adam: Hello, ningen~!

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Adam: Ha ha... Your threats are as empty as your title.

Adam: All hail Weiss Schnee, heiress to nothing!

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Adam: Well, well, this could be quite salubrious for me.

Corsac: I'm not sure I...

Fennec: ...know what that means.

Adam: It means "beneficial to one's health and well-being," you dolts!

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Yang: Thanks for the assist, Ozp-AGH!

Adam: ...Oops! How rude of me. The pommel of my sword has slipped into your chest~.

Yang: Heh heh... No problem.

Adam: HURGH!

Yang: Sorry 'bout that. My fist just happened to punch your chest "on accident," too.

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Harriet: It's a simple fact; I'm the fastest member of the Ace Operatives!

Adam: So you're a master of retreat, eh? You must be so proud.

Harriet: (Activates Super-Speed) Get ready for a surprise!

Adam: ...

Harriet: (Running in place) My semblance will allow me to dodge your sinister and nefarious attacks with the greatest of ease! JUST TRY AND HIT ME! (Blinks out)

Adam: ...I'm just going to let that play out.

Harriet: (Attacking Adam, Missing)

Adam: (Backhands Harriet)

Harriet: Rgh! B-But how?!

Adam: That's funny, because I was about to ask the same to you. As in, "But how do you expect such pitiful attacks could do any damage to topple a top tier titan like me?"

Adam: (Grips sword) A grievous insult I intend to pay back tenfold.

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Adam: Is Yang not here yet?

Penny: No, but she's on her way!

Adam: Oh, look at that; the toy robot from Atlas. I remember watching you die on-screen before Cinder took over. I guess the Maiden's powers can bring back both the powerful AND the pathetic!

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Weiss: YOU'RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME HOLD ADAM'S HAND?!

Adam: Heh heh heh... There's nothing for you to be scared of Schnee. I won't bite.

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Adam: Well, well, it seems the woman of the hour has finally arrived! I've been waiting a long time for you! And I see your Schnee friend is with you, too. I would be surprised, but ningen never were good at fighting alone, were they?

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Ruby: Huh? It's you...

Adam: Salutations, ningen~!

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Adam: I remember when Nikos' partner was just a shrimpy, little thing. It's so touching to see boys becoming men.

Jaune: Adrian, stay back!

Adrian: But Uncle Jaune-

Jaune: You don't stand a chance against him, so just leave him to me!

Adrian: (Pouts)

Adam: What tender love~! I can barely stomach it. When I'm done with him, I'll kill the brat, too, so you can hold hands together in Hell. (Blinks out)

Jaune: Huh?!

Adam: (Behind him) NOTHING PERSONAL, KID.

Nora/Ren: JAUNE!

Jaune: AUGH! (Falls to the ground)

Adam: ...I'm sorry, but I don't think you understand how this works. Once you're on the ground and can't move, you're supposed to beg me for mercy! Say you'll do anything to spare your nephew's life!

Jaune: Ngh!

Adam: Come on! Let's hear it, boy! Cry for me! Scream! SOAK YOUR FACE IN TEARS AND TEAR OFF YOUR ARMOR IN FRUSTRATION! AHAHAHAHAHA! Not that I would let you live, but it's all part of the fun for me!

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Pyrrha: (Struggling)

Adam: Oh, I do respect powerful fighters. But there's one other facet to my character, which is...

Adam: THERE'S NOTHING I DESPISE MORE THAN NINGEN.

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Adam: That's it, Xiao Long! Keep getting stronger! Be your best lizard!

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Adam: Care to put her to the test?

Adam: (Draws blade)

Willow: (Shakes head)

SHKT!

Adam: (Sheathes, Ahem)

Adam: ...WINTER, LOOK! IT'S SUCH A TRAGEDY!

Winter: Huh?!

Adam: IT'S YOUR MOTHER! SHE'S BEEN FATALLY WOUNDED BY A STRAY ATTACK!

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Ozpin: There must be something you care about! The White Fang?! Loved ones?! Memories?! Everyone has SOMETHING they want to protect-

Adam: You're pissing me off! I don't care about anything or anyone. Hm... Except for myself, of course.

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Adam: I can't stand the sight of your pitiful, broken faces wearing MY masks...

Adam: (Grips handle)

Blake: (Eyes widen) EVERYONE RUN, NOW!

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Yang: You're definitely not a pushover, that's for sure. If you weren't so evil, you'd actually be a fun sparring partner. What a waste of talent.

Adam: It's exactly that kind of small-minded drivel that makes ningen like you so especially intolerable.

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Adam: WAKE UP! Torture isn't any fun if I can't hear you scream! (Stabs Yang's prone body)

Yang: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

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Adam: Attention, brothers and sisters of the White Fang...

Adam: (Points)

Penny: Huh?!

Adam: I will grant ownership of any human settlement to any one of you who can slice that Atlas toy in half!

Penny: What?!

Adam: Ha ha ha! History repeats, with only certain details that change. And when Xiao Long shows up, she'll give in to her rage again, leaving her wide-open for me cut not just her arm, but her head off, too!

#rwby #dragon ball #dragon ball super #adam taurus #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #blake belladonna #corsac albain #fennec albain #penny polendina #ozpin #adrian cotta arc #willow schnee #winter schnee

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oneatlatime · 11 months ago

Text

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #lake laogai

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theunbearableweightofpedropascal · 1 year ago

Text

Mother Knows Best

Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: (angst, fucked up family dynamic)

A/N: This is the dress I had in mind in case my description doesn't do it justice. All credit to the artist here. and hair inspo (top right). Also I'm not sure why I keep writing that Blaise hates yellow but it feels right, idk.

Summary: With your parents abhorrent views you doubt they could choose a decent partner.

Word Count: 5.6k

The wizarding community was small which meant that Hogwarts was even smaller. Thankfully you had been able to slip under the radar, which in hindsight was easy since your classmate was Harry Potter. Either way, people wrote you off as timid and boring but the truth was far worse.

Growing up everything seemed fine you came from a prestigious family that was more than respected. With that came expectations as you were told but understood, you made sure your magic was comparable to no one. You had practiced so much that there were cramps in your hand and wrist regularly. However, the expectations that your parents meant were far more nefarious than being a prefect.

For your sorting ceremony, you had come from a family of Ravenclaw’s and Slytherin’s so when the hat called out Hufflepuff it seemed a slight pause was taken. There wasn’t explicit disappointment written on your father’s face but you knew what he would have preferred. But in his words at least you weren’t Gryffindor.

Motivation thrummed through your body to make up for less than adequate house. You’d managed to become quite knowledgeable on many subjects, even things as taboo as muggle studies. You’d never dared to take the class but had read a few books out of morbid curiosity. There was never anything explicitly anti-muggle spoken about in your household but deep down you knew better. The kind of family you were born into would never be outspoken about that sort of thing, it’s unbecoming in your mother’s words.

After the death of Cedric Diggory, more talks of he who shall not be named permeated the community. Some believed it was an unexplainable tragedy while others were in complete denial. Not only were you disgusted by what they did to him you also felt sad for Harry, it was crystal clear what happened. Your parents on the other hand seemed unaffected, that should have been the first sign but you were too busy giving condolences to Harry.

Next was the stream of people they contacted in the coming months. At first, none of them rang any alarm bells but more and more suspected Death Eaters would permeate your childhood home. A small riff formed between your parents and you, the seemingly loving people who raised you held such nasty views. Visits to your childhood home soon became limited to mandatory holidays under the guise of you studying for your O.W.L.s.

Soon enough you could see exactly where they stood and it terrified you. There wasn’t anyone you could turn to without fearing it would get back to your parents.

……..

On your scheduled visit home you were indifferent to finding certain members of the Ministry leaving your parent's home. However, as your father stood before you in the foyer expectantly you couldn’t help but wonder why. Usually, it would just be your mother receiving you due to the constant stream of ‘meetings’ your father held. No words were exchanged between you two before he gestured for you to follow him to his office.

The once warm memories that this house provided now gave way to shivers down your spine. It felt like the closer you were to approaching his office the harder your heart thundered in your chest. Uneasiness settles within you because of your father’s seemingly cold nature.

Inside his office, he gestured to the seat across from his chair and your heart sank. Although you didn’t feel at home anymore, you didn’t have the heart to fully distance yourself. For so long all of your work was due to upholding the family name and reputation and if you let that go there was nothing else. Your mother gave nothing away while she stood off to the side.

“As you know darling a war is brewing, and now is the time that our Dark Lord needs his loyal correspondents.” His hands on your shoulders send a cold shiver over you. “And it worries me that my daughter seems to sympathize with mudbloods.” Even though you couldn’t see his face you could only picture the defeat on his face.

“I-” Before you could attempt to defend yourself you were interrupted.

“I thought I had made my expectations for you obvious child.” Your father’s fingers dug into you causing a grimance across your face. “Only for you to embarrass me after I put all of my hopes and dreams into you.” Tears well in your eyes from the pain of both his words and his harsh grip.

“Have I not given you everything?” In spite of how you’ve felt about his purist ways, his words cause you to scramble to reassure him. After all, you didn’t put in as much work as you had to disappoint him.

“You have and I-” The words become stuck in your throat because of how much you are trying to say at once. “I’m so sorry.” Shame has your head hanging low while your tears wet your pants. “I saw Cedric as a friend and I let my judgment get clouded.” Sobs wrack your body and your father lets his death grip go to comfort you.

“It’s okay darling sometimes we become a little misguided. As long as we find our way back that’s all that matters.” The same hands that caused your breakdown are now nursing you back with slow circles. Your breathing begins to even out and your father takes that as his cue to continue with what this meeting is really about.

“Now that we’ve taken care of that, I wanted to talk about what we are gathered here for.” His hands clap together in what you assume is excitement, and a glance at your now-smiling mother confirms it. “Tonight we are celebrating your impending nuptials.”

Never has your head swiveled so quickly, you weren't privy to any marriage conversations. As far as you knew you weren’t promised to anyone but you knew better than to question anything in this moment. From the corner of your eye, you see your mother leave the room and the thundering in your heart amps up once again.

“And what better family to be joined with than the Zabini’s?” Your mother is the one to drop the name of your future husband as she glides into the office again. Behind her, you see the infamous Zabini’s. Everyone is familiar with the Zabini’s, more specifically the rumored black widow Domenica Zabini. Her track record of 7 dead husbands speaks for itself. There was nothing short of perfection about their appearance, not that you expected less.

The joy on your mother’s face feels like you’re in an alternate universe, one that involves a happy family. Somehow you didn’t see the gilded cage that had slowly been closing until it was too late. If there was food in your stomach it would have been thrown up by now.

“Don’t play coy darling, they’ve come all this way to meet you.” As if your breakdown didn’t just happen your mother ushers you out of the seat before urging you closer. “This will be good for you, for us.” The low tone of her voice leaves no room for opposition.

Domencia’s keen eyes take you in and you almost can’t believe this woman killed her husbands. There’s nothing overtly cunning or evil-looking about her presence as one would think. Her son, on the other hand, had a menacing demeanor for someone who you’d never heard utter a word. Since Hogwarts was small his best friends Theo and Draco more than made up for his silence.

His brown eyes are calculated while he takes you in and your heart betrays you by skipping a beat.

“You’re even more breathtaking in person.” Were the first words you ever heard him speak and you hated to admit how your whole body fluttered. The low register of his voice made it feel like only the two of you were in the room despite your parents lurking off into the corner.

“So the mythical Blaise does speak?” You keep your voice low like his.

“Considering you are my future wife I’d say it’s imperative.” And just like that the reality of your future comes crashing back to you.

Blaise gently grabs your hand and brings it to his lips before running his thumb across your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours and you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to disarm you. Either way, you remember to keep your guard up around him.

“Is there anywhere for us to talk, privately?” Although you doubt your parents can hear you he still goes the extra mile to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Your eyes dart around the room in an attempt to get out of the situation you’ve landed in.

“Afraid you’ll actually come to like me, sweetheart?” Blaise, as observant of ever, notices your hesitation to him despite his very convincing charm.

“No.” Even you weren’t convinced by your answer however, you refused to give him the satisfaction.

An amused smirk plays on his face and he finds himself more than pleased with this arrangement. The air between you was thick with undeniable tension.

“You know,” Your mother places her hands on your shoulders gently but that doesn’t stop the small wince on your face, “You should show Blaise around the grounds since he’ll be around a lot.”

“That would be lovely.” His award-winning smile splits his face in agreeance with your mother.

Seeing no way out of this you tell him, “Stay close to me.”

Many would say that your familial land is almost as grand as Hogwarts, but that only applies if you enjoy greenery. The house is incomparable to the vast amounts of land you can explore and observe. Your mother favored her garden and maze, so much so that the familial home was inconsequential to the lands she demanded.

“I take it you weren’t as up-to-date as your parents led me to believe?” Now that you two were truly alone Blaise saw no need to hold back.

“I wasn’t but I can’t say I’m completely upset with their choice.” The truth is they went far beyond your expectations.

“So I still have a chance?” He pulls back before the two of you are more than a couple feet from the house. “I must plead my case.” His general nature gives you pause, you’ve never met someone so magnetic.

“And what exactly is your case?” Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“We could make this a long engagement, I don’t mind a wait. Frankly, I enjoy your presence and I wouldn’t mind growing from that.” His hands reach for yours, and somehow it doesn’t seem desperate.

“You’re making this feel so easy.” As much as you wanted to reject any man sent your way through your parents, Blaise was different. Not to mention you weren’t in a position to bargain.

“I don’t want to force you, but I will promise absolute devotion.” This time when he kisses your knuckles there’s no prying eyes, making the moment much more remarkable.

Truth be told above all else you wanted someone exactly like Blaise, but your parent's involvement sort of ruined the moment. Emotionally you were still reeling from your father’s outburst, and you know it won’t be the last. If you could keep him off your back with this there would be less pressure surrounding any future mistake.

But that does peg the question of how you’ll fare should this relationship get serious. Would you be the first of many wives for Blaise? The thought sent a chill down your spine and there’s no way you could outright ask. For the time being you decide being a team player is most important and string Blaise along until he tires of you.

“I would love nothing more.” Maybe you laid it on a little thick but Blaise doesn’t seem to notice or care.

………….

With news of you and Blaise’s engagement spreading amongst the parents, you knew it wouldn’t take long for the gossip mill at Hogwarts to circulate. By the time you return from your visit whispers follow you through the corridor.

“So you wanna tell me why everyone is talking about your engagement to Blaise?” Madeline, your closest friend, saddles up next to you as you barrel down the hall.

You slow down your fast pace to pull her into an empty classroom. “I knew my Father held some anti-muggle ideals but now he’s talking about doing the Dark Lord’s bidding. I went home this weekend to find out they had me betrothed to Blaise Zabini.” Your hands find their way to your face in an effort to rub the emotional distress out. “Not to mention he completely freaked out on me for expressing my sympathies for Harry. Mads I’ve never seen him like that, it scared me.”

“Godric,” She made her way to stand beside you before rubbing your back in gentle circles. Madeline was first assigned as one of your dormmates, she took it upon herself to adopt you. She'd seen first-hand the immense pressure your parents put on you, and in turn the pressure you placed on yourself. “You know you’re always welcome around mine?”

Although you did know that it would only prolong the inevitable with your parents. Nevertheless, you thank her and rest your head on her shoulder.

“The worst part is the fact that I don't completely hate Blaise, I mean he would be perfect if my parents hadn’t been the ones to arrange it. Now it feels tainted you know?” Your eyes are glued to the floor while you pour out everything you’d had to hold in this past weekend.

“Of course, not to mention his mother has an interesting romantic history.” You are glad that you’re not the only one who noticed.

“But he’s so gorgeous.” You tilt your head away from your best friend with a whimsical sigh.

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Her agreeance has you craning your neck to blink in surprise at her.

“Not too much, he’s still my fiance.” Playfully you narrow your eyes at Mads before bursting into laughter with her joining you.

With your spirits back up the both of you head back into the hall and make your way to the grand hall. Studying would help in taking your mind off of everything else, somehow it was relaxing. The table was decorated with textbooks as you and Madeline delved into your academics.

“You look even more radiant when you’re focused.” That low drawl had your head quickly swiveling to meet Blaise’s eyes in surprise.

“There’s a lot I need to stay up to date on.” Your answer must have been enough for him to take a seat next to you. But you don’t let his presence deter you from your agenda. Madeline squirms in her seat across from you to get your attention only to give you a knowing look.

“I’m sure there is,” He lets his eyes fall over your form, and warmth spreads throughout your body at his brazenness. He clears his throat before continuing, “ My mother’s hosting a party next weekend and I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of being my date?”

From the corner of your eye, you could feel Madeline’s widened eyes taking in this conversation. You’re not sure why you expected Blaise to ignore you once you returned to Hogwarts, but strangely you’re pleased he didn’t. Finally, you set your quill down to properly address him.

“I would love that,” You school your features to not look as giddy as you feel. “Any specific dress code requirements?”

“If you don’t mind I got your measurements from your mother and had a dress commissioned.” He had the gall to look sheepish.

“And what if I find the dress ugly? What if I had said no?” The questions fly out one after the other.

“Your mother promised me you had no shortage of beautiful gowns, and if you had said no I would have found another way to gift it to you.” His eyes peer down at you while you bashfully glance towards Madeline. Once he leaves you know you’ll never hear the end of this.

“Well thank you,” For once you are truly rendered speechless and there is no other feeling more embarrassing.

Blaise, as observant as ever, senses the end of the conversation and readies himself to leave. Before he completely takes off he places a folded piece of paper in your palm and closes it. When his back faces you you let your eyes wander after him with a stupid smile splitting your face. You realize too late that once he reaches his table his friends have already caught you grinning like an idiot. They proceed to clap him on the back and you quickly face Mads only to be met with a teasing grin.

You resign yourself to laying your head on the table until the smile on your face calms down. When you unfold the piece of paper you find a rough draft of a fluffy green gown. His penmanship impressed you but his eye for detail on the various layers of dresses solidified your opinion.

…………

The box holding the dress Blaise commissioned is sitting on the ottoman by the foot of your bed. It was a deep emerald green with a light green bow wrapping around it. Your mother delivered it with a bright smile as soon as it arrived in the morning. She was adamant about opening it but you wanted to wait, even if the anticipation was killing you too.

Your parents were attending as well but they had been rather agreeable lately. Just as you assumed once you showed interest in being with Blaise they seemingly backed off. The last thing you want is a repeat of what happened.

With the sun setting you begin taking down your hair, and the curls bounce as you rub oil on them. You deliberately save the front braids for last while you finish individually placing each curl. The front of your hair is parted to the right side, and you begin gathering half into a small ponytail. You decide to leave a small piece of hair out from the right side that is curled away from your face.

A smile graces your face at the finished product and you turn to the box that’s been calling to you all day. The note attached to the bow was the first thing you read.

I hope the dress is up to your standards -B.Z.

You place the note on your bed and untie the bow before lifting the top. A lavish hunter-green bustier greets you, before fully pulling it out you take note of the silver and black jewels lining the entire top. You carefully grab the strapless top to pull it out of the box and a gasp involuntarily leaves your mouth at the mass of the dress.

Flowers made of sheer fabric litter the waist and sage green fabric lines the sides of the dress. Layers of tulle overlap with leafy designs that feature silver accents. You had never seen a dress as beautiful as the one in front of you, Blaise clearly had an eye for fashion. The drawing he gave didn’t do the dress enough justice.

Progressively you place the dress on the floor and step into it. Perfect is the only word to describe it as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Even in low light, the jewels sparkle enticingly and you note that he used his house color on you. You do a spin before heading to your jewelry box, only to find that you missed a matching necklace and earring set at the bottom. The dangly earrings remind you of snowflakes and the necklace matches the gems atop your dress.

“Please tell me you’re rea-” Your mother bustles into your room but pauses mid-sentence at you. “My, you look stunning.” She slowly circles you before noting the jewelry in your hand and she gestures for you to face the mirror. She delicately takes out your stud earrings and replaces them with the one Blaise gifted you. When she reaches into the box for the necklace a gasp, much like your earlier one, leaves her red-tinted lips.

“When he asked me about your measurements I never expected this.” She circles her arms over your head to gingerly lay the necklace over your sternum. Her polished nails circle your shoulders for a gentle squeeze, “Let's finish up before your father storms in here.”

She sits you down on your vanity chair before pulling out a brown lipstick and gloss. You tilt your head back to allow her an easier time and her sweet perfume fills your nostrils. Once she finishes she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile. She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your father’s call.

“We are now thirty minutes late,” The both of you share a silent laugh before heading downstairs to put on shoes and meet your father.

………..

Blaise is bored out of his mind waiting for you, he was surrounded by friends but it was clear he was anxiously awaiting your arrival. Although he thought you would like the dress he couldn’t be sure, maybe it was a bad idea to not consult you.

“Oh cheer up Zabini your girlfriend’ll be here soon.” Theodore’s quip was met with laughter from Draco.

“Not girlfriend, fiancee.” Malfoy corrects Theo before Blaise can open his mouth to say the same thing. While they laugh Blaise rolls his eyes before scanning the hall once more. Theodore could sense how his friend felt despite him trying to downplay it.

“Is there an actual ring or is this a vocal agreement?” Draco decided to push his limits

“There’s plenty of rings but we aren’t there yet kind of like you and Astoria.” Draco rolls his eyes at the reminder of his love life. “And who knows when a woman will become agreeable to your presence Nott.”

Both boys exchanged looks of amusement at Blaise’s snappy tone.

Time seems to stand still when he spots you at the entrance of his mother’s grand hall. His heart thunders as he realizes you are wearing the dress he helped create. The low light of the room captures the shimmering jewels that line the dress and he can’t recall anyone as lovely as you. For once he is rooted in place unable to fulfill the greeting he had prepared.

“I think I understand now mate.” Theodore is stumped in place as well when he follows Blaise’s line of sight.

Everyone in the hall spares a glance at you, how could they not? The dress gives the illusion that you are gliding across the floor. His mother intercepts your family and focuses on you. It’s obvious she’s fawning over how alluring you are. Your eyes scan the crowd scantily and Blaise takes that as his cue.

“I’ll catch up with you two later.” He doesn’t spare his friends a glance as he makes his way through the crowd to you.

When your eyes lock with his he internally melts, the closer he gets the more you steal his breath away. A symphony with booming music plays in his head to match his beating heart.

You straighten your posture when Blaise stands before you in a three-piece emerald green tailman suit. His hand collects yours before bowing to kiss your knuckles, and after he comes up you curtsey before him. Your dress pools around you in the most elegant way before you slowly come up again. It was nearly impossible to rip his eyes away from you but he had to greet your parents before whisking you off.

“Would you mind excusing us?” Blaise’s polite manner brings joy to your mother’s face and approval to your father's.

“Of course not,” Your mother and Domencia are quick to shoo you and him away.

His hand glides around to the small of your back while he guides you to the refreshment table. The array of food makes it hard for you to pick anything and he senses your indecision. He hands you a plate to pick as much as you want.

“Thank you, for the dress it really is amazing. Your drawing was beautiful but I never expected anything like this.” The sparkle in your eyes is all he wanted to see.

“Anything for you.” His declaration left you speechless once again so you focus on picking your food.

He then leads you to your table to eat but you hesitate before moving to sit. Blaise angles your body and dress to sit comfortably in his lap. Your stomach flutters for the umpteenth time and you try to look anywhere besides his face.

“This was your plan all along huh? Create this elaborate dress so I’m woefully dependent on you.” You begin trying the various foods on your plate while Blaise watches you.

“If I’m being honest I wish I had come up with that, but I did want to see you in a beautiful gown. Maybe steal a dance or two.” His complete focus was on you enjoying your treacle tart.

“Nobody else is dancing though,” You spare a glance around to find everyone mingling while the live band plays quietly.

“So?” His head was being cradled by his large hand as he searched your eyes.

“You must be the fiancee, we’ve heard so much about you.” Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott step into view on the other side of the table.

“I kind of miss Zabini when he was quiet and mysterious.” Theodore jokingly pouts his lips at Blaise before taking his seat.

“Fuck off,” Blaise tries to look annoyed but everyone catches the slight crack in his face.

“The only Blaise I’ve encountered is the lovesick puppy variant.” The boys roar with laughter at your one-liner.

“As much as I love this conversation, I should probably do a couple of laps around the room,” He places his hands on your hips before addressing you, “You think you’ll be okay with these vultures for a couple of minutes?”

“I think I’ll be alright,” The mischievous grin on your face convinced him and you stood up so he could fulfill his hosting duties.

“That's the spirit,” Malfoy clapped his hands at your willingness to entertain them. “Shall we get you a drink to catch up with us?”

“As long as it’s fire whiskey.” Your agreeance has them flagging down the nearest server for a round of glasses.

Surprisingly talking with Draco and Theo is easy, mostly because they’ve been shit-talking Blaise. You keep your intake of whiskey to two glasses to keep your wits about you. This wasn’t that kind of party.

They tell the story of how Blaise was knocked off his broom by an ex-girlfriend's spell. A re-enactment of how he flailed for 30 feet ensued but luckily the table was toward the back. You’d been breathing in short bursts for the past few minutes and you hope for a reprieve.

“Alright if you all don’t mind I’ll be stealing her for a dance,” Blaise’s hand stretches out to you before he calls, “M’lady.”

One last giggle escapes from your lips when you place your hand in his and slowly rise from your chair. On the way to the middle of the floor, you realize the band is playing a much louder tune than before. Blaise’s steps slow and his hand guides you around to the front of him while your dress flows flawlessly.

Each of you repeats the bow and curtsey from earlier but this time you keep eye contact. Once both of you are upright you wait for the musical cue to begin your first step. When the violinist begins their solo you step forward attaching one hand to his right shoulder and the other in his left hand. His hand envelops yours before sliding down to the small of your back, just above the flowers.

Just like you thought you two were the only ones about to dance, and people were quickly realizing that.

“Don’t look around, I want to see those beautiful eyes aimed at me.” With warm cheeks, you gaze up at Blaise who smiles back at you taking the first step in the dance. Completely confident in your steps, you follow his lead while he guides you in circles.

“This dress is the best gift anyone’s ever given me and don’t even get me started on the jewelery, thank you.” You step back as Blaise raises his arm to spin you, showcasing the multiple layers of tulle whirling around you.

“Does this mean I need to begin drafting another?” The moment you step back into each other’s space it feels as if the whole room is empty save for you two.

“If I could make a request, would you mind yellow?” The slight grimace crossing his face makes you laugh.

“And your very first flaw rears its ugly head.” You swallow the chuckle that wants to escape so that you can back away from Blaise once more. This time you both take a step to your left before holding your palms close but not touching. With your left hand behind your back, you keep your eyes on the only person in the room as you walk in a circle.

“Where would I even wear another dress like this?” Events like this don’t exactly happen every week.

“I’ll plan another party for you.” His words cause your heartbeat to thunder in your chest you almost thought he could hear it.

All playful banter between you ceased and all that could be heard were the strings of violins increasing in tempo. At the same time, you turn so that your right hand can hold a sliver of space between them. Something within his eyes made a jolt run through your body as if you took Amortentia.

With the tempo slightly decreasing it was time for you to stand side by side, facing the fireplace and his hand guiding you backward. Now that the both of you are facing each other once again you circle the other in a figure-eight motion. If you were thinking about anything other than Blaise you would feel ridiculous but there was nothing else running through your mind.

His mouth firmly remains in a smile and yours mirrors his if the strain in your cheeks had any say. Your dance comes to an end when you face each other before your last curtsey. Applause fills the room and you remember you’re not alone.

“I think it’s time for a tour.” Blaise bends down to speak lowly into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

“I would love that.” You place your hand on his bicep and follow his lead out of the ballroom.

The corridors are dim with only candles lighting your path. Your heels click rhythmically in time with Blaise’s steps, echoing off the walls.

“You’re enjoying yourself I take it?” Even though he meant to sound sure you could hear the doubt in his voice.

“I love it, I love this dress, and spending time with you isn’t terrible.” Everything about tonight has been great and you were starting to come around to the idea of actually being with Blaise. Maybe the deal with his mother’s dead husband had a logical explanation.

“That sparkle in your eye tells me it’s a little better than terrible.” He slows to a stop before sliding his arm around your waist. An alcove that has stained glass lets the moonlight shine through allowing the colors to reflect off your skin.

“It would kill me to admit my parents are right.” Your whisper causes the biggest smirk to split his face and you almost retract your statement.

“It would kill me if you were to let that stop you.” Both of his hands find themselves planted on your waist playing with the jewels.

After a moment of looking at you his thumb and forefinger lift your head so he can press his lips delicately to yours. You tilt your head to kiss him back while your hands find purchase on his biceps. The way his thumb caresses your cheek makes you lose all inhibitions. Suddenly your hand wraps around the back of his neck to bring his lips closer, your poor dress getting squished in the process.

It felt like the two of you were molded together, if someone walked past they wouldn’t know where you end and Blaise begins. A groan sounds from him as he slides his hand from your face to the back of your neck, balling his fist full of your hair. When he pulls a gasp leaves your lips and allows him to slide his tongue in.

“Godric, save that for the honeymoon.” Theodore’s voice and Draco’s laugh feel like cold water being poured over you. Blaise’s hand leaves your hair but stays around your waist while you keep both of your hands at your side. Lip gloss makes his lips irregularly shiny and you're tempted to wipe it but you're interrupted.

“Your mother’s asking for the both of you, so we did you a favor and came ourselves.” Draco smiles before raising his glass of fire whiskey and tipping it back.

You and Blaise begin leading the long trek back to the ballroom.

“They’re going to breed like gnomes.” There was no telling who mumbled that out but it resulted in laughter spilling out from everyone.

#blaise zabini x female reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #hufflepuff #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff reader

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choster33 · 6 months ago

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Gambit- X-men 97's Romantic Hero

I love Gambit and after watching X-men 97 I'm sure that he's a lot of people's favorite right now. After watching and rewatching, season 1 I think that the writers have set him up as the Romantic Hero which is not just that he's a main part of a love triangle which he is but Romantic in the Byronic literary archetype way of "possessing the qualities of being larger than life, enjoying suffering, being isolated from society, being always haunted by an unseeingly unidentified sin and is known for being quite cynical" according to Brainly.com. Not to mention having a long suffering love interest!

He is not in the series for a lot of time, but his arc through episode 5 and the impact that he has throughout the whole show is monumental. He begins with a splash looking hot in his iconic pink crop top. I mean, there are very few people who would make this look good and he really does. He also comes off as way more interesting than Scott who bores me to tears. I sometimes skip Scott and Jean stuff to be quite honest and that comes from Remy being a good guy, but not boring. He has a sense of humor, a sense of adventure, and an all around down to earth personality. He is a strong fighter and loyal X-men, but even from the beginning he is seen as charming, funny and right. There is less of a threat after Xavier's death and Scott, Bishop and Ororo did have it handled.

Then we get to the club and Gambit is the ultimate lover in that he pairs up with Rogue and then proceeds to look at her lovingly whilst telling her what any worthwhile man would do to be with her. Swoon.

Then we have episode 2 where Rogue and Magneto reestablish their connection. We may cheer Rogue for being able to touch someone, but look at Gambit's hurt and sad eyes. Long suffering relationship indeed. Romantic heroes seem to love suffering and what is more painful and self inflicted than falling in love with someone who can't touch, but also is full of insecurities about love and commitment. I love Rogue, but she's afraid of love and terrified of hurting someone else which shows in how she handles relationships.

Mon dieu, it's freaky Rogueneto telling him what he tells himself, his deepest fears. A good Romantic hero always has demons and haunted by past sins and who is more haunted by his past than Gambit. I have to say here that some people might be thinking who is more tortured than Magneto, but I disagree. Magneto has a dark past, but he thinks he's right. Whereas Gambit is wracked with guilt and feelings of not being worthy of being called a X-man and being Rogue's man. He grew up a Cajun swamp rat from a Thieves guild raised by thieves, assassins and other nefarious people and lived most of his life as a thief. What makes him interesting is the tortured guilt and modesty that Gambit has.

He goes to Genosha because he's jealous and wants to make sure that there is nothing going on between Rogue and Magneto. Magneto even says as much. He wasn't even meant to be there and might have been safe on Earth, but we know what happened to him tragically. Plus we see how he is not cowed by Magneto and willing to ask questions no one else is willing to ask. Another reason why Magneto is not the Romantic hero, is that he is mutant MVP in this show, the heir to the X-mansion and the X-men, asked to be king of Genosha, and etc. where Romantic heroes are on the fringes of society like Gambit, who is a hero as a X-man but not wanting fame, glory, or power like Magneto.

Kurt is so observant and sees instantly the connection the two have and calls Gambit out on being theatrical. Gambit calls himself a scoundrel and yet again dismisses the possibility of a happy ending for himself. Then we get that iconic line of "There is no love without sin. Love is best measured in what we forgive." Gambit again falls into the Romantic hero trope of thinking he is too low for love, but isn't going to necessarily change his ways, just accepts that he is on the fringes of society and all that entails. One of the things I love about Romy is their understanding about one another. They both have murky pasts and are filled with self loathing and self doubt. They are strong attractive X-men but they are best friends because they GET each other.

Oof, the breakup scene. How more Romantic and tortured was this? He showed how amazing a man he was by patiently listening to her tell her story and then at the end not blowing up at her or making her feel like shit, but just wanting the truth from her and showing how much it hurt him. He played the Swamp Rat, because a lot of that was a game, a way for her to feel OK with keeping him at arm's length, dangling on a string, never fully letting him in because intimacy was too scary.

It's scenes like this that make me wonder if they have touched before even accidentally because Gambit as a character is so self loathing that if she touched him even by accident, she is holding so much of that loathing in her which may be something contributing to her doubts. A part of comic!Rogue leaving Gambit in Antarctica was because she absorbed him and was filled with self loathing.

He is such a gentleman that he even kisses her hand and agrees to be friends. And granted that the Magneto and Rogue dance was hot, but that must have been torture for Gambit. Then our Byronic hero becomes a man of action and hot damn we get James Bond level action and heroics. He shows his strength and does whatever is necessary to save his lady. Despite his differences with Magneto, he doesn't petulantly sulk but does what is required of him because he is a hero at the end of the day. He is brave and selfless and chivalrous. He is giving old school knight chivalry here and I'm here for it.

Then my heart breaks as does every other viewer at the death scene and the "can't feel you" line. It's very soap opera-y and dramatic to kill him after breaking his heart, but here we are. Rogue is the long suffering love interest and most Romantic stories don't necessarily have a happy ending. He wasn't even meant to be in Genosha and because of love and circumstance ended up dying tragically as the ultimate hero. He died a hero's death dying to save thousands, but more importantly to save the love of his life.

In later episodes, his death is a catalyst for Rogue taking action and even turning darker. Her love for Gambit shows more when he is gone and is going to be a fundamental chapter in her life. One that might make her think twice about being commitment phobic and using her abilities as an excuse not to feel intimacy and how wrong she got it with Gambit. It was love, true love and she didn't see it until she was too late.

This may just be a chapter in their story and we may have more drama and angst with Deathbit in Season 2, but even dead Gambit was the troubled Romantic lead that made X-men 97 work and be so interesting. Episode 5 was my favorite and probably the best episode next to the finale and that's due to Gambit. We relate to him and feel deeply in his pain, self loathing, jealousy, and love of Rogue. I find Magneto interesting and Rogueneto is fun to read and write about, but Romy is the OTP and Gambit is Lancelot.

#x-men #x men #x men 97 #rogue #magneto #gambit #remy lebeau #romy

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formula-nyoom · 7 months ago

Text

Stars Racing Past-2

Summary: After managing to escape the phantom on Tatooine, (Y/N), Seb, and Kimi head to Coruscant to meet with the Jedi Council to hopefully allow (Y/N) to become a Jedi and be assigned a teacher.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on the first chapter. I'm really glad people liked it and I can't wait for you guys to read what I've got cooking. While I don't really like taglists, I will have one for this series. I think the max I can tag is 50(ish) people so I will have to cut it off at some point. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

~~~

The ship seemed to remain in one piece as it traveled through lightspeed. And with nothing indicating that the hyperdrive would fail, Kimi switched on the autopilot as he and Seb focused on the girl that was now with them. Now that things were calm, she seemed to be processing everything that just happened as her eyes stared at the light rapidly traveling past the ship

“(Y/N)...” Seb gently said, drawing the girl’s attention to him. “Can you tell us what happened? Why was this person chasing you?”

“I don’t know. He had come into the store after closing…he…” The girl trailed off.

“Can you tell us exactly what happened?” Seb quietly asked. (Y/N) took a breath and nodded.

“I was working on repairing my speeder when I heard Mr (L/N) tell a customer to leave. He mentioned the two of you…I thought you guys had come back to get me or sent someone to come get me. But when I peered in… there was just something about this person that felt wrong.”

“What did you sense from this person?” Kimi asked.

“Sinister…and dark.” (Y/N) said. “He didn’t feel anything like when you guys had come in earlier.”

“You said that he killed them…did he kill Mr and Mrs (L/N)?” Seb asked. The girl nodded. Her eyes started to water as the scene of the phantom driving his red lighted blade through their chests replayed in her head.

“I ran as soon as he saw me. I jumped on my speeder and took off. I didn’t know where I was going at first, I just knew I had to get far away from this…this phantom.”

“Lucky you were able to find us then.” Kimi said.

“I don’t think it was luck.” Both Seb and (Y/N) said. Seb looked at the girl perplexed.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked

“I..I felt something. I don’t know how to really describe it, but I felt something guiding me in a certain direction. It led me to you guys.”

Seb smiled.

“I knew The Force would make our paths cross again.” He said. (Y/N) tried to mirror Seb’s sentiment, but her mind kept going back to the phantom.

“Who…who was that person that chased me. What did he want with me?” (Y/N) asked.

“He was a Sith.” Kimi said. Seb looked at him with concern.

“Are you sure? The Sith hadn’t been seen in ages.”

“Everything about him screamed Sith, from his lightsaber to the way he fought.” Kimi said. “I don’t think this was a random occurrence.”

“What do you mean?”

“On a previous mission, I was investigating rumors of potential dark side activity. I didn’t have enough evidence to warrant bringing this matter up to the council. But now I think we should.” Kimi said.

“What’s a Sith?”(Y/N) asked.

“Dark side Force users.” Kimi said. (Y/N) still looked confused. Seb kneeled down next to her to be eye level.

“There are two sides of the Force. There’s the light side that the Jedi use to try and bring peace, and there’s the dark side that the Sith use for conflict and nefarious purposes. Before the age of The High Republic, the Jedi and Sith would fight constantly before most of the Sith were wiped out and hadn’t been seen since.” Seb explained.

“But it seems like they may be trying to come back or rise to power.” Kimi said.

“What would the Sith want with me?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m…I’m just a slave.”

“You’re not a slave. You’re so much more than just a person.” Seb said, gently clasping the girl’s hands. “(Y/N)...I believe that you can become an exceptional Jedi. You seem to be well in tune with The Force. I saw you use it in the shop, and you were able to channel it to help you find us. You seem to have a much better grasp on it than any other untrained force sensitive person I’ve come across.”

The girl was silent for a couple moments.

“Are the stories true? That the Jedi fight for the good of others? Bring peace to the galaxy?” She asked.

“Yes. The Jedi stand to be guardians of peace and justice. We use the light side of the Force to help protect and fight for others who can’t. And you could be that kind of person…” Seb explained. “But I also don’t want to pressure you into coming with us back to the Jedi Temple.

“Considering the circumstances, you’re no longer a slave.” Kimi said.

“He’s right. You’re free now to do whatever you want, go wherever you want to go.” Seb said.

“But that Sith we encountered will still try to come after you.”

“Kimi’s unfortunately right about that too. Whatever the Sith may have wanted with you, it’s not good. You would be safer with us back at The Temple. But again, I leave the decision up to you.”

(Y/N) looked back towards the flying stars, taking in all that was said. Seb and Kimi were right, she was free. She could make her own choices now.

“I’ll come with you. I want to train to be a Jedi and fight for those that can’t.” (Y/N) said. Seb smiled.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” He said.

(Y/N) smiled. Seb looked like he believed in her. That’s the first time someone has looked at her that way.

“Don’t get too excited, Seb.” Kimi said. “We still have to meet with The Council about this matter. They may think she’s too old to start training as it goes against The Code.”

Seb didn’t seem deterred by Kimi’s words.

“I have faith that they’ll make the right decision. Besides, we'll have to inform the Council about our encounter with a Sith. I think once they hear about that, they’ll see how important the matter is.” Seb said.

The time traveling to Coruscant wasn’t long, but it took enough time for (Y/N) to doze off, the events of the past few hours finally catching up to her. When she woke, she was met with blue sky and the sight of city skylines.

“Have you ever been to a planet like Coruscant?” Seb asked when he noticed the girl was awake. (Y/N) shook her head.

“I’ve lived on Tatooine for most of my life.” She said.

(Y/N) tried to take in all the new sights as Kimi piloted the SF-16. She watched as other smaller ships flew past various buildings and apartments. There seemed to be so much hustle and bustle in Coruscant. A stark contrast to Tatoonie. Eventually the SF-16 flew towards a giant structure that seemed to stick out compared to everything else in the city. It had various towers while looking very square. (Y/N) could tell that this was The Jedi Temple that Seb and Kimi kept mentioning.

Kimi piloted the ship onto a landing pad and the three began to disembark.

The ship door opened and (Y/N) was hit with a blast of cool air and no humidity as she followed Seb and Kimi off the ship. Now seeing the Temple up close, it was way more imposing with an almost wing-like symbol displayed on banners that hang from the front.

A young man greeted the three of them as they made their way closer to the temple entrance. He wore the same clothes as Seb and Kimi, minus the robe, and had short blonde hair with one long braided strand.

“Master Vettel! You're back! How were the negotiations?” The man said.

“We had some complications. Could you alert the Council of our arrival. There are matters we need to discuss with them.” Seb said.

“Certainly.” The young man said. He turned around and started to hurry off.

(Y/N) followed Seb and Kimi past the entrance and into the temple proper. Various people greeted Seb and Kimi as they walked past while also giving curious glances towards (Y/N). (Y/N) tried to stick close to Seb, not wanting to draw any attention herself while also trying to take in all her surroundings. The temple was big and open with high arching ceilings and architecture (Y/N) had never seen before. Some of the adults that passed by were accompanied by kids (Y/N)’s age, having the same braid as the young man that greeted them at the entrance. And the atmosphere of everything, it felt the same to (Y/N) as when Seb and Kimi first walked into the repair shop but multiplied by 10.

It felt both safe and suffocating at the same time.

Soon the three of them made it to a set of tall double doors with the same intricate symbol as the ones on the banners. The young man that greeted them when they landed stood in front of the doors and smiled at Seb as they approached.

“They’re inside ready to meet you.” He said.

“Thank you Mick. Will you wait out here for me? I need to talk to you about some things regarding your training.” Seb told him. Mick nodded.

Standing in front of the big doors, (Y/N) suddenly felt very nervous. The idea of having to meet with people only referred to as “The Council” seemed very nerve wracking to the young girl. Seb seemed to notice this as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I just want to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about. The Council may seem intimidating to you at first, but they aren’t.” Seb said.

“I was intimidated by them when I first met them.” The young man, Mick, said. He gave (Y/N) a reassuring smile. (Y/N) tried to give one in return but she was pretty sure that nervousness still showed on her face.

“You can stand by Kimi while I talk with The Council. I don’t think I’ll have to do much convincing to have them allow you to become part of The Order, but they may ask you a couple questions.” He said. “Are you ready?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath to try and steal her nerves.

“Yes.” She said, Seb smiled and nodded his head before opening the door.

The circular room was much smaller than (Y/N) expected it to be.

Nine chairs were arranged in a circle that took up most of the room. All of the seats except for two had someone sitting in it: Men dressed in the same attire as Seb and Kimi.

Most of them greeted Seb with a smile but all of them seemed to look at (Y/N) once she stepped into the room. She moved closer to Kimi, almost trying to hide behind him.

“Master Vettel. It’s good to see both you and Master Räikkönen back in one piece. Master Alonso informed us that the negotiations with the Trade Federation didn’t seem to go well.” Master Webber, one of Seb’s fellow councilmen, spoke. Seb nodded his head.

“You are correct, Master Webber. The Trade Federation was not up for negotiations in the slightest. We tried to have an open discussion with them but after a couple minutes the Leader left the room and me and Kimi were soon swarmed by battle droids. We had to fight our way out of there and during our ship’s retreat, the hyperdrive ended up being damaged, causing us to crash land on Tatooine.” Seb explained.

“Seems you may have picked something up while on Tatooine.” Master Ricciardo said, glancing behind Seb at (Y/N). He wore a friendly smile, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but try to make herself seem smaller due to nerves.

“We encountered a member of the Sith while on Tatooine.” Kimi said. Some of the men looked at each other with either confusion or concern.

“The Sith haven't been seen in ages.” Master Bottas said.

“What was a potential Sith doing on Tatooine.” Master Rosberg asked.

“That was the other matter I wished to discuss with you. I had mentioned to Master Alonso earlier that me and Master Räikkönen believe that we have found The Chosen.” Seb said. He turned around and gestured to (Y/N) to come join him in the center of the room. (Y/N) quietly walked over and stood next to Seb. The tone in the room seemed to shift once (Y/N) stood before them, as if they could sense something she couldn’t. (Y/N) wished she could be as small as possible with all these sets of eyes on her.

“What��s your name, young one?” Master Webber asked the girl.

“(Y/N).” She quietly said.

“You’re from Tatoonie?” He asked. (Y/N) shook her head.

“No. I was sold on Tatooine. I don’t know what planet I'm originally from.”

“You were a slave?” A different man asked. He had darker skin and wore his hair in braids. The girl nodded.

“(Y/N) said that the trader who sold her only dealt with Force sensitive. That’s a matter I feel we should discuss as well but at a later time." Seb chimed in.

“How old are you?” Master Webber asked her.

“11.” That answer caused some of the men to whisper to each other. (Y/N) tried not to think about what Kimi had said earlier about her possibly being too old to join The Order.

“How old were you when you were sold?” The man with braids asked.( (Y/N) would learn later he’s addressed as Master Hamilton)

“Five.” She told him. Master Webber took in the girl’s appearance, how she stood and how her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt to try and ease her nerves. But (Y/N) felt that he was trying to sense something else.

“(Y/N), with all that's happened to you in the past hours, you don't seem to be upset about being away from what was your home planet.” He said. (Y/N)’s face seemed to harden at his observation.

“Tatoonie never felt like home. Neither did the people who owned me.” She said, her voice now at an even and clear volume.

“So you have no attachments to the life that you had on Tatooine?”

(Y/N) didn’t need to think hard about that question. The people she belonged to were dead. She never made any real friends on that planet and besides repairing old speeders, she felt there was nothing to call her back to Tatooine.

“No. There’s nothing left for me back on Tatooine.” She said firmly. Master Webber looked to Seb

“You think she should join the Order.” Master Webber. It didn’t sound like a question, more so like Master Webber already knew Seb’s intentions.

“She’s too old.”Master Rosberg said. “She hasn’t been taught the proper teachings like every youngling must learn.”

“I understand that but I’ve seen how she uses The Force and how she’s been able to channel it. I believe if given time, proper training, and a good teacher, she can become a great Jedi.” Seb explained. (Y/N) wanted to smile at Seb’s words, but as she took them in, she also remembered that Seb had referred to as “The Chosen" earlier. (Y/N) wanted to know what he meant by that. It sounded like something with high expectations.

The men broke out into whispers amongst each other as they debated on what decision to make. Seb looked down at (Y/N) and gave her a reassuring smile and her shoulder a gentle squeeze. It comforted her a bit.

“The Council has decided…” Master Webber spoke after a few more moments of hushed whispers. “...that despite her age and considering the circumstances, (Y/N) will be allowed to join The Order and train in the ways of The Jedi.”

Both (Y/N) and Seb seemed to let out a relieved breath.

“Master Räikkönen will be her teacher.” Master Webber said. Kimi cleared his throat, having stayed at the back of the room the whole time.

“With all due respect, the missions I go on are not fit for a padawan.” He said.

“I’d be happy to take her on as my padawan.” Seb said.

“You already have a padawan Master Vettel. You can not take on another one.” Master Button said.

“I believe that Mick is ready to take on the trials to become a Jedi Knight. I’ve trained him for many years and feel he is prepared to handle his own missions.” Seb said. A few of the Council men glanced at each other.

“The Council has seen Padawan Schumacher’s progress. While he has learned and grown over the years with his abilities regarding The Force since becoming your padawan, recent months have cast doubt on if he is ready to become a Knight. Unfortunately we will have to deny your request.” Master Webber said.

“Not to mention that there are more younger Jedi Knights who are ready to take on padawans. I understand that with you believing that this girl is the Chosen one, that she should have a more experienced teacher, but The Council have not yet seen anything from her that truly proves so. Therefore she will be treated like every new padawan that comes into the Jedi Order.” Master Alonso explained. Seb nodded his head.

“I understand.” He said, hiding his disappointment inside. “If that is the case…then I believe I may know of a suitable teacher for (Y/N).”

~~~

The sounds of lightsabers clashing echoed throughout the training room as Seb entered. Once the council meeting had ended, Seb had asked Mick to show (Y/N) to what would be her new living quarters while Seb headed to the training room to look for a certain Jedi Knight. One or two people training greeted Seb as he entered, but most were engrossed in the sparring match that was happening in the middle of the room.

Two young men were engaged in a fierce lightsaber duel. One had dark blonde hair and wielded a blue lightsaber with intensity. His opponent deflected the hits with his own two green lightsabers. They seemed evenly matched, each deflecting hits that came their way. One may suspect that the young man wielding two lightsabers would have the upper hand, but a subtle feint and quick force powered shove from the dark blonde sent the brown haired young man he was fighting down to the ground, dropping one of his sabers.

“I win this one Charles.” The dark blonde young man said as he held his lightsaber in front, almost as if stopping the brunette from getting up. But the two smiled at each other and the blonde lowered his lightsaber to offer Charles a hand up. Those around that watched the sparring match applauded the two of them. Seb included.

“Max!” Seb called out. The dark blonde turned and, after giving Charles a pat on the shoulder, walked over to the Jedi Master.

“Yes, Master Vettel?”

“I know we haven’t spoken about this matter in a while but I wanted to know if you still had your objections about taking on a padawan?”

“Like I’ve said before Master Vettel, I don’t think it would be fit for me to take on a padawan. I’m-”

“-not a good teacher. I know, you’ve said that multiple times. However, I’ve just met with the council regarding an important matter.” Seb said.

“The Council can’t assign me a padawan. I have to be the one to choose.” Max said.

“I know that, but we think you and her would be a good pairing. You know what it’s like to have high expectations placed upon you.” Seb said. Max gave him a confused look.

“What do you mean by that exactly?”

“Come with me. I think this matter should be discussed somewhere more private.”

(Y/N) should expect that everything on Coruscant was going to be better than what she had on Tatooine. Yet she was still surprised by the living quarters that Mick showed her. The room had a proper bed with a mattress (Y/N) felt she could sink right into, a window with a view looking out at the Coruscant skyline, and a closet filled with garb like the ones everyone in the temple was wearing. It was all so much more than (Y/N) ever had.

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate in changing from her old, Tatoonie clothing into a fresh set of tunic and pants, throwing her old pair into a trash can without hesitation. The clothes fit perfectly, like they were meant to. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window’s reflection. Her hair was still messy and there was still some dirt and sand left smudged on her face, but everything else she saw looked nice, looked new.

“This is different.” She thought to herself. “This place feels safe.”

She looked again at her new living quarters. (Y/N) assumed that she was supposed to wait for Seb or someone else to come get her. But after traveling with Seb and Kimi for the past couple hours and having to meet with The Council, (Y/N) finally had some time to herself. And even though (Y/N) could spend hours on end sitting by the window staring at the skyline, there was a whole Temple to explore. And that’s what she was going to do.

~~~

At the moment, (Y/N) had no idea where in the temple she was. Honestly she should have expected this, being in a big and elaborate building she’s never been in before. (Y/N) had managed to find the temple’s library, mess hall, and the same entrance she had entered in with Seb and Kimi. But in trying to find her way back to her living quarters, (Y/N) seemed to have gotten a bit turned around.

‘Maybe if I double back and try and retrace my steps-’

(Y/N)’s thought process was interrupted as she accidentally bumped into the back of someone.

“Oh, sorry about that.” (Y/N) apologized as the person turned around. It was a boy about her age, with brunette hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t alone, as a blonde boy with blues stood behind. Both of them had the same singular braid in their hair that Mick had.

“No worries.” The brunette boy said. His voice had the same accent as Master Webber. He looked at (Y/N) with curiosity. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around The Temple before.” The brunette boy said.

“Oh, yea I’m new...just arrived today.” (Y/N) told him. The boy smiled.

“I’m Oscar. This is Logan.” The brunette boy held out one of his hands for (Y/N) to shake. (Y/N) shook it and held out her hand for the blonde boy to shake. He hesitated before shaking her hand with one of his gloved ones.

“It’s nice to meet you Oscar, Logan. I’m (Y/N)”. She said, “I was trying to explore around but ended up getting a bit lost.”

“It is a bit hard to find your way around this place when you first get here.” Logan said.

“Well me and Logan were gonna head to the training ground. Maybe we could show you parts of the temple on the way there, if you want to join us.” Oscar said.

“Sure. That would be great!” (Y/N) said.

Following the two boys, Oscar and Logan showed (Y/N) parts of the temple she had missed, like some of the teaching rooms and outdoor atrium. Just as she was about to follow Oscar and Logan into the training room, someone called her name.

“(Y/N)!” It was Seb, who walked over with someone in tow. (Y/N) waved goodbye to Oscar and Logan before walking over to meet Seb.

“I was wondering where you may have wandered off to.” Seb said. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

The girl standing before Max wasn’t what he expected. Master Vettel had told him how he thought Max would be the perfect fit to train someone who was expected to become a great Jedi, that there was some prophecy involved with the person he was supposed to train.

“Max, this is (Y/N), she just arrived today. (Y/N), this is Jedi Knight Max Verstappen.” Seb said, introducing the two. The girl, (Y/N) as Seb introduced her, had started fidgeting with one of her sleeves as soon as she walked over. But she seemed to steel herself and held out a hand for Max to shake. It had smudges of dirt and a bit of dried oil left on it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She said. Max shook his hand.

As soon as their fingers touched, Max felt The Force wrap around him, as if it was trying to tell him something. He tried to steel himself, and hone in on the feeling. And he found that it was coming from the girl in front of him. Did the girl feel it too? Max couldn’t tell as she pulled her hand away. He did the same.

“I was just discussing with Max on how I think he would be a good teacher for you and that you would make a good padawan for him to train.” Seb said to (Y/N). “However the decision does come down to Max, so I thought it would be best for you two to at least meet before any decisions are made.”

Max didn’t think he was the type of person that would be a good teacher, that he wasn’t fit to train a padawan. He’s admitted multiple times that he’d rather spend his time training and going on missions where he could use his lightsaber a plenty than be in the temple teaching a youngling the ways of The Force.

But there’s something about the girl in front of him. Not only with The Force but with just everything about her. Max looked at (Y/N) and saw his younger self staring back.

“Now Max, you don’t need to make a decision now, but I advise that you and (Y/N) try to get to know each other before-”

“I'll do it.” Max said, interrupting Seb. Seb looked at Max with surprise.

“Really? “That’s wonderful to hear!” Seb said, now smiling. “Well my previous suggestion still stands that the two of you should get to know each other before you guys start training. I'll leave you to it.”

Seb gave (Y/N) a reassuring pat on her shoulder and a nod to Max before walking away, leaving the pair alone. The two stared at each other.

“So I assume I address you as Master Verstappen?” (Y/N) asked. Max grimaced.

“Don't call me that. Max is fine.” He said. (Y/N) could now pick up that Max spoke with an accent, one she had never heard before. “Have you eaten at all since you’ve got here?”

(Y/N) shook her head, now realizing how long it had been since she had last eaten.

“Well I can show you the dining hall and we can talk, “get to know each other” as Master Vettel said. Is that ok?”

“Yea, sure. I’m starving.”

Through the windows of the dining hall, (Y/N) could see the sun slowly setting on the Coruscant skyline. After putting various food on her tray, (Y/N) followed Max as he led her to a more secluded part of the dining hall.

As she followed though, (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the various stares or hushed whispers from people as they passed.

“Is that Verstappen…with a youngling?”

“Verstappen said he would never take on a padawan.”

“Do you think The Council forced him to take on one?”

Max took a seat at one of the tables tucked into the corner. (Y/N) sat across from him and looked down at her food.

“Master Vettel told me you lived on Tatooine. I’ve never been to that planet. What’s it like there?” Max asked. While Max was trying to skirt around the unfortunate circumstance the girl was in before she was found by Sebastian and Kimi, Max still wanted to try and get to know the girl. So he thought asking about the planet where (Y/N) grew up would be a safe question to ask.

“Hot. Sandy. Hot and Sandy is the only way to really describe it.” (Y/N) said with a neutral face as she poked at the food in front of her.

“What was your favorite thing to do there?” Max asked. (Y/N) took a bite of her food and smiled a bit.

“Trying to repair an old speeder that someone left behind.” (Y/N) said. “A bunch of races are held almost every month on Tatooine. I was hoping to get it fixed and enter some of the races. Win enough money to get me off the planet.”

“I prefer racing ships over speeders. A lot more action and opportunity.” Max said. (Y/N) looked at him curiously.

“Is that what I’ll be able to do at some point? Pilot a ship and race it past the stars?” (Y/N) asked. Piloting was something (Y/N) always wanted to learn. Properly. She learned bits and pieces from the pilots that would come into the shop for parts or repairs, but (Y/N) always wanted to learn how to fly a ship. Probably to better her chances of getting off Tattoonie. But (Y/N) no longer had to worry about that.

“Maybe. What I’m supposed to do is teach you how to harness The Force.” Max said. “But you are my padawan, so I can teach you things The Council may not want you to learn when you’re just starting out.” Max said, giving the girl a slight mischievous grin. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back.

After the two had finished eating, Max walked (Y/N) back to her living quarters. Whispers and stares seemed to follow them as they walked and (Y/N) tried to brush it off.

“We’ll start your training tomorrow morning.” Max said as they stopped at the door to (Y/N)’s living quarters. “I know it may feel strange sleeping in an unfamiliar place but try to get some proper sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Ok. Goodnight.” (Y/N) watched Max walk away. As he passed by a group of younglings with braids in their hairs, they looked at Max with awestruck faces. But he didn’t pay them any attention. (Y/N) remembered what she felt when she and Max first shook hands. Something seemed to pull her towards Max, The Force trying to tell her that something about him was important. She couldn’t help but wonder…who exactly did Seb assign as her teacher?

TAGLIST: @fangirl-dot-com @chasing-liberosis @miarabanana @vicurious28 @mayo-0-o

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #max verstappen x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 star wars au #stars racing past

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dreadsuitsamus · 1 year ago

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hi! i’m not sure if you’ve done this before but.. could i please request a vegeta x human!reader who’s heavily tattooed (legs, arms)? i have no real idea for a plot line for it but gather it’s not something he’s seen a whole lot of since coming to earth - if at all! happy for either SFW or NSFW, completely up to you if you don’t mind the idea? have a lovely day!

For Fun | Vegeta x Reader |

author's note: this idea has absolutely made my day. it just begs for a sweet little vegeta learning moment, since normally it's him explaining saiyan culture. i have chosen the sfw path here! it's also funny bc i've been contemplating tattoos lol and a vegeta tattoo has been on the brain for some time now. thank you for your request!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: sfw, reader has tattoos, some nudity but no smut or anything remotely nsfw, post-namek but pre-androids and cell

You can feel Vegeta's eyes on you as you work on his suit, Bulma's lab being the only place you feel comfortable sharing space with him in— the racket of the tools at the very least would alert somebody of something nefarious happening. Your dear sister just had to have a soft heart (or rather, quite the boner) for the Saiyan, and now it's you that suffers the consequences while you patch up the blue suit with a precise needle and thread.

"I'm not going to ruin it." You snark at him, not exactly happy to be in his presence. He's a murderer! "I've fixed it for you before without an issue." Bulma's doing her best to copy whatever material this suit is made of, but she's having trouble competing with alien technology— though she'll certainly have it figured out soon. She's a petty thing on the regular, but test her intelligence with a challenge like this and she's more stubborn than acne on an asscheek.

"Mm." He never talks much, at least. But as you stretch your arm out to pull the thread taught, Vegeta moves to take your wrist in his hand. While strong and easily capable of smashing your poor bones to smithereens, his touch is on the softer side.

"What in the world are you doing?" Are aliens unaware of personal space??

Ignoring you initially, Vegeta's gloved fingers curiously glide along your forearm, eyes focused on the artwork adorning your skin. "Your tattoos make little sense. What sort of culture is this?"

"Culture?" You repeat the word dumbly, fighting the urge that lingers just under your skin, heart rate picking up as you will yourself not to shiver at his touch.

"These flowers and symbols, what do they represent? I've been on Earth long enough to know the culture here is nothing like these— furthermore, the lab rat has none at all."

The laugh that bubbles from your chest is easy. Perhaps Earth is the only planet, or one of few, with inhabitants that indulge in tattoos for pleasure rather than cultural representation. "They aren't part of any culture, Vegeta."

"Then what are they?" His brow furrows rather adorably, his lips pulling into a pout as you laugh at his ignorance.

"For fun."

"You marked yourself permanently for fun?"

"Sure did. I got tons of 'em. Some of 'em mean somethin', but for the most part they just bring me joy."

Vegeta releases you finally, shaking his head in a way that reminds you of your father when you first started inking up. "Silly Earth woman…"

"Oh come on. Tell me they aren't pretty." You smirk softly, eyes glittering with the twinkles of mischief. This is a new light on Vegeta, one that perhaps drew Bulma's generosity his way in the first place.

"Tch." A blush rises to his cheeks and he looks away, staring a hole into the wall. "They're not ugly."

A not-so-pretty snort escapes you as you resume patching the suit up, tying and clipping off the end of the thread after the hole is closed up. "I got my first tattoo when I was seventeen. I was young and dumb and in love with a guy I thought I would be with forever." You murmur softly, pulling up the leg of your sweatpants to show off the heart by your ankle. It's old and faded by now, but your lips still pull into a smile at it.

Vegeta takes the moment to examine it, brushing a curious knuckle over the tattoo. His curiosity is sweet, and this must've been on his mind for ages now— it's not like him to get handsy or remotely talkative at all. "Saiyans never took part in these."

It makes all the sense in the world; from what you've pieced together by Vegeta's quiet, rarely spoken about tales of home and with the love for fighting that gushes from both his and Goku's hearts, Saiyans aren't exactly sentimental. "Well… You're on Earth now. You could get a tattoo just for the hell of it."

"I have no need." Vegeta looks away again, and you shrug to yourself.

"They're not for everyone, I guess." You hold the repaired suit out, feeling a tad bummed out that the sight of him in a tank top and sweatpants will be gone soon, but a lilt of surprise thrums in your heart when he sets it on the table and looks at you instead.

"Do you… have more of them?"

You laugh and tug at your t-shirt, pulling it off in the face of the blushing prince and revealing several more tattoos, most of which he's never seen before. "You got time?"

"You could certainly warn a man before you start stripping." He grumbles out, forever the prude even in the face of a gorgeous woman and her body.

"So sorry." Your tease bounces off of him as his curious fingers run along the lines on your tummy, sides and just below your breast. You're bare to him almost entirely, as you've never worn a bra at home and certainly didn't intend to start just because a man moved in, though his eyes and touch are calmly curious and genuinely interested in the artwork you're laced with, rather than the perky breasts and soft skin that would have most men acting a fool by now.

It almost has you feeling ugly, though that near-permanent tint of red that dusts his cheekbones reminds you otherwise.

"Don't forget the one on my back." Your murmur is gentle, only there to invite him further into the journey without jostling his concentration too much. And he takes your advice, stepping behind you while tracing the intricate linework of the massive tattoo, pausing at the sight of the gorgeous mural on your back. You've spent quite a bit of money on this, suffered the pain of the needle piercing and permanently scarring your skin to the patterns that'll forever mark you, and the admiration Vegeta has for your commitment alone is monumental.

Even gloved, his touch warms your skin in the lab's cool conditions and that little spot on your back, the one that had you shaking and embarrassed as your tattoo artist that, bless his resilience, dealt with with more care than a fucking surgeon to properly tattoo, flutters against the accidental tickle. You shift, muffling a laugh into your palm and there's a pause before Vegeta drags his fingertips over the spot again, and then once more.

"Your laugh isn't ugly either." He mutters and steps away, the warmth of his proximity erased and goosebumps covering your body now.

Standing ten toes down and looking over your shoulder, your lips twist in gentle glee upon catching his dark eyes with your own. It's taken some time, but you've finally found what Bulma saw in Vegeta that allowed him into your shared home.

He's flustered by such intimacy and he quickly snatches his Saiyan suit up before rushing towards the door. "Put a shirt on, you vile woman, or you'll catch a cold." Vegeta grumbles out, hightailing it towards the comfort of his gravity room and far away from whatever the hell just happened.

"Must be the first time he touched a woman." You snicker, tugging your shirt on and cleaning up the mess, lest your sister properly bitch you out for it later on.

The ghost of his touch remains, and even under the duress of several times Earth's gravity, Vegeta's palms fondly remember the feeling of your skin.

#vegeta x reader #vegeta x you #dbz imagine #vegeta imagine #vegeta #x reader #x you #reader insert

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sapphireshineonao3 · 9 days ago

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I just finished reading your "Of saplings and embers" and "The bat, the hunter, and the vet" and I would like to know how you think Chasca and Ororon would react to arlecchino and Kinich knowing each other?

Do you think that they would probably try to spy on them to make sure Kinich would be okay? If so how long would it take for either of them to notice they're being watched? How would they react to when they talk about their pasts, like when Kinich's mom left him or how she became a harbinger? (Personally I don't think they would last that long without being noticed but it's possible)

What are your thoughts? 🤔 👀

My immediate thoughts is that I'm tempted to turn this into a fic now XD

In all seriousness, both Chasca and Ororon would be concerned for Kinich and would try to follow after them if given the opportunity. It would likely occur shortly after the events of "Of Saplings and Embers". With Arlecchino whisking Kinich away for some reason during her stay. Chasca sees this and gets suspicious, and gets Ororon to help her tail them to make sure nothing nefarious is happening. Ororon has his own concerns and follows along.

Since Kinich never mentioned anything about it before, and likely didn't give much info after he returned the first time, both of them have their suspicions in regards to Arlecchino. Perhaps recalling the "rumors" regarding the title of "The Knave" and mislabels some deeds that were Crucabena to Arlecchino. Chasca tries to think that she shouldn't worry, Kinich can handle himself quite well after all, but can't help but worry since they are dealing with a HARBINGER, one who isn't too far away in ranks to Capitano. The danger seems obvious.

Ororon tries to look on the bright side, but can't help but feel concern since Arlecchino is acting so close to Kinich despite not seeing him in literal years and their initial meeting all those years ago was merely a single month. Not to mention the fact he likely senses that Arlecchino is carrying some kind of curse.

So, they try to tail them. Unfortunately, Arlecchino notices them immediately. However, the attempt is amusing, so she keeps it to herself. Wondering when Kinich will catch on to their eavesdropping. She keeps certain info under wraps, and even prompts some unusual questions for Kinich to answer to see how Chasca and Ororon would react.

Once Kinich realizes they're being followed, he manages to get Arlecchino and himself out of sight and expresses his concerns. Arlecchino then reveals she knew they were being following from the get go, amused by the attempt. After a tiny discussion, Arlecchino outs them and demands they come out to have a "proper discussion".

As for what happens after that... well........

I have a few different ideas XD

But that's how I'd think it'll go.

#genshin impact #kinich #genshin ororon #chasca #arlecchino #genshin chasca #answered asks

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sheeple · 1 year ago

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Miracles don't exist | 9: Something fishy

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None this chapter A/n: Did I use dialogue of Catching fire. Maybe. But that scene is so damn cute and I love it how Peeta looks at Katniss. Ugh [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The days grow slowly less cold but wetter when the second task approaches in February. It's been weirdly quiet. No letters from your aunt or uncle and no letters from your father. You're very relieved that he hasn't written to you in such a long time. That means he is too weak, he's too occupied with something evil and nefarious, or he's dead. You highly doubt the last option.

You walk with your cousin and his friends to the dock so you can take a boat to one of the three platforms. You see Harry walk not much further from you next to Neville and you speed up, catching up.

"Hey", you say, making both boys turn towards you, "Good luck with your task. Please be safe, yeah?"

Harry nods shakingly, obviously anxious about what's to come. You reach out for his hand and give it a squeeze. "You can do this. I believe in you." You give him a small smile, hoping it gives him some sort of comfort.

"Where are Hermione and Ron, by the way?" You look around but don't spot the redhead and the brunette that's usually not far away.

"I don't know", he mumbles. "They've been gone since yesterday. McGonagall asked to talk to them and since then they haven't returned."

You frown. It's not like them to just disappear. "I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe they are a part of the task?"

Harry looks solemn towards the water. "I rather hope not."

Arriving at the boats, a hand on your waist steadies you as you step into the wooden boat. You look up and see Theodore glaring at Harry, who looks too anxious and concerned with the second task that is minutes away from happening to even bother.

The other Slytherins fill the remaining seats in the boat and you wave goodbye to Harry.

Nobody says anything but you feel the glares from around you. "What?", you snap.

"Seriously, Potter?", sneers Draco, his bottom lip curled up. "You know what I have said about fraternizing with the enemy."

You sigh, massaging your temples. "For Merlin's sake, Draco! The boy is terrified! Who knows what he is going to encounter down there. If it were you, you would already be screaming and crying to your father to put an end to the tournament."

Draco's jaw ticks but it seems to shut him up effectively.

The boats stop at the raised platforms and you immediately get out, not accepting the outstretched hand of Theodore. Seeing your opportunity to get away, you climb the first set of iron steps to get to the top deck. There you have a nice overview of the water and the surrounding landscape.

Your head rests on your hand as you lean against the railing, waiting for the contestants to get ready to dive in the water when Theodore slides into the empty space next to you. "I've been thinking─"

"Congrats on using your brain, Theo. You didn't strain it?"

Theodore stops and looks at you with raised eyebrows. Quite perplexed.

You bite your bottom lip. You've grown too comfortable too quick at the idea of Theodore being your friend and you've overstepped boundaries. "Sorry. I've never been really good at being friends."

He smiles, obviously enjoying your little quip. "For starters, it helps when you know the person. I hardly know anything about you except that you love muggle books and that you have the most amazing smile, even though you rarely show the real thing."

The comment about your smile makes your cheeks heat up but you decided to push it down. "That about sums me up."

"There is more than that, you just don't want to tell me."

"It's like I said─"

At that moment Professor Dumbledore starts his speech to explain what the second task contains and with the sound of a cannon firing, the contestants jump into the water. Harry follows after them a couple of beats later.

Theodore leans close to you and says, "Listen, Black, how the whole friend thing works is that you have to tell each other the deep stuff."

"The deep stuff?", you whisper back, your eyes focused on the murky water.

"Like...", he glances up at the sky, "what is your favourite colour?"

Turning towards him, a smile adorning your face. "Now you've stepped over the line."

The both of you laugh. You slap a hand over your mouth and hit Theodore in an attempt to quiet him down before it attacks the attention of the people around you.

Still smiling, Theodore props his head on his fist and says, "seriously though, what is it?"

You think for a moment. What is your favourite colour? Most of the clothing that you own is black and dark green, but that's more to blend in with the rest of your family and the Slytherin students. Your room back home is also mostly black. The only colour you can think of is-

"Pink", you decide.

It makes Theo's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Pink?" He looks perplexed. He for sure expected you to say some variating of green or something.

"Pink", you confirm. "But not old pink. More like… a tulip pink."

Theodore hums, a large smile forming on his face. "Tulip pink?"

He bursts out laughing and you push his shoulder smiling. "It's a nice colour! What is yours anyways?"

He doesn't hesitate for a moment. "Green."

"And you're critiquing my colour of choice?"

Theodore bumps against you with his shoulder. "Shut up. The Whomping Willow leaves colour nicely in spring."

One corner of your mouth twitches up and you snicker. "Whomping Willow leaves?"

The comment earns you a look from the brown-haired boy.

The first to get up to the surface is Fleur ─ who didn't finish her task ─ next is Krum, followed by Cedic. At the last minute, Harry shoots up out of the lake and lands on the platform. The crowd goes wild and you jump up and down, happy that Harry is safe and well.

The task ends with Victor getting the most points and Fleur the least, but the winners are Harry and Cedic.

There is this restlessness in your body, going down all the way to your core. You've been tossing and turning for hours and flipped your pillow over too many times. With a huff, you sit up and decide that you are not going to do this any longer.

You swing your legs off your bed and scramble ─ as quietly as you can as not to disturb the peace of your sleeping roommates ─ for your sneakers and make your way out of the Slytherin common room.

It's quiet when you roam the halls. Of course, it is, it's after curfew after all.

Something in you tells you that something is coming. It festers deep within your soul, twirling and whizzing around. It makes you anxious.

Hearing steps coming from the hallway adjacent to yours, you swiftly hide in an alcove. You suck in your breath in the hope to appear as a shadow. You release it once you see it's Harry that's passing by.

"Harry!", you whisper, making the boy turn his head. His stance relaxes as soon as he sees it's you, and he slides his wand back into his pocket.

"What are you doing out of bed?", he whispers back in the same tone as you walk next to him.

You shrug. "I couldn't sleep. Again. You?"

Harry looks at the ground, searching for the right words. You grab his wrist as a sign he can tell you.

"Barty Crouch is killed. I found him in the forest while walking with Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione. Turns out, Crouch's son was a Death Eater and responsible for torturing Neville's parents."

You hold a hand over your mouth in shock. "Oh, poor Neville. Does he know?"

"No. At least - I don't think so."

You frown. It was never a question of why you felt remorse for the boy. It was your mother after all that tortured the Longbottoms to the point that they are now. And, in your opinion, it's far crueller to leave a boy behind with parents that don't remember him than to leave behind an orphan.

As the two of you pass a hallway filled with portraits, arguing voices cut through the silence of the night before a door flies open and reveals Professor Snape and Professor Karkaroff ─ who has his sleeve pulled up and revealed his dark mark, which slowly grows more intense.

"It's a sign, Severus. You know what it means as well as I."

Karkaroff snaps his head towards the two of you and angrily storms off, sneering.

Giving each other a wide-eyed look, the both of you decide it's for the best to just continue walking. But Snape has other ideas.

"Potter! Black! What is your hurry?"

You sigh and turn around, not daring to look at Snape's harsh glare.

But the Professor's attention is focused on the boy next to you. "Congratulations. Your performance in the Black Lake was inspiring. Gillyweed, am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Ingenious. Run along, Black, you mustn't be caught roaming the halls after curfew."

You nod, giving Harry a sorry look before you get house points deducted for whatever Snape is irritated with.

As you round the corner, you know what you have to do. There is no denying that something is going to happen, with the Dark Mark on Karkaroff's arm and the uneasy feeling in your bones. You have to go to Dumbledore. To at least report to him, as you promised.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @pietrobae @literallyobessed @vanishingcherry @lestat-whore @harrysnovia

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thatsuccessfulpokemontrainer · 5 months ago

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Sprite: wow I'm really struggling with change at the moment I sure hope nothing else happens

The nefarious eelektrik

#mushroom musings #rotomblr #rotumblr #sprite chroma

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invinciblerodent · 6 months ago

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I just learned today, after a good 700 hours in-game, that it's possible for Aradin and his crew to attack you at your camp in act 3 (through someone saying, paraphrased, that if you enjoy him as a character you must not have played act 3), and I'm honestly so bloody into this possibility now.

Like, sure, on one hand that's textbook fantasy thug behavior and I like that he has the chutzpah to do it, but also... yeah, go on and tell the person you learned was hired to capture the Nightsong maybe three hours into the game, about how the Nightsong is chilling at your camp. Truly, the man who was offered enough money for this contract to have him set for life, and who'd abandon an archdruid and some of his own crew because they got attacked can be trusted with that information.

I'm sure nothing can go wrong if you tell him, he's such an absolutely 100% trustworthy individual. Surely this man has not done anything nefarious or underhanded (such as attacking a person at their camp) in his life. You should also give him a copy of the key to your room at the Elfsong in case he wants to drop by later for tea and crumpets...??????

I know this person likely meant that this is a reason one shouldn't like him, but if anything, I honestly enjoy his character like three times more, now that I know this can happen. He's a greedy, cutthroat, an kind of stupid man who is only an adventurer because his daddy was one, and all he wants is money enough to retire.

He's barely- to moderately hinged. I'm obsessed with him now.

#squirrel plays bg3 #aradin #aradin beno #which; really cute last name #certified fucking baby boy that one #i bloody love this asshole #i'd give him a key to my room for a completely different reason #.... but for real though i thought it was obvious that you *shouldn't* tell him??#like on my first game iirc i just told him glhf; giving no further info; and walked right past him to lorroakan #on my second i was with Iona and that woman rolls 40s on deception in her sleep #and i think petyr just rolled ridiculously well as is his habit and curse #i do NOT for the life of me remember what my partner did on his own game; and aradin didn't attack then either #how the hell do you get that outcome by ACCIDENT #(i keep saying “thrust” in my head instead of “trust”)#(yeah man he sure is thrustworthy)

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missveryvery · 1 year ago

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FengQing dynamics, book vs fan interpretation, General Thoughts about Clown Generals:

Mostly me trying to stare at canon and figure out what these dumbasses think about each other and what their actual relationship is, what's actually written instead of my hopes and dreams for clown love.

we all keep writing/drawing Mu Qing being the mean one and Feng Xin as the nice one but....Feng Xin is the one that relentlessly says horrible things to him, usually unprovoked.

Feng Xin's insults:

That he hates him, that he never wants to see him again, that he's lying, that whenever he sees him doing something it absolutely must be for personal/nefarious reasons, that he's happy when xl does crimes, he's untrustworthy, that he's always scheming, that he thinks he's better than he is, that he wouldn't be where he is without Xie Lian.

Mu Qing's insults are:

that Feng Xin is just as "disloyal" as him for leaving. Basically, his usual argument is "you are just as bad as me." This is his big thing, arguably his only thing.

He maybe thinks the bathhouse is Feng Xin's fault, like he took them somewhere perverted on purpose

His statues? whack.

Says Feng Xin made a big deal about nothing about Xie Lian stealing.

I'm wracking my brain here because a lot of them aren't personal insults so much as making fun of him for something rather than saying he's a bad person. Like he tells Xie Lian about the Ju Yang thing. That's not something Feng Xin did wrong, it's something embarrassing that happened to Feng Xin.

Here's one:

Actually, rereading this, I wonder if he meant Xie Lian...? Since that's the person who they felt like couldn't tell who was a ghost. And Feng Xin has always been able to discern ghostness so far so that seems weirdly specific. Which is nuts because I think we all feel like Mu Qing should insult his intelligence all the time (Feng Xin isn't as dumb as I wish he was, though so...)

I'm extremely guilty of all of this, to be clear. And I don't know why. Sometimes I carefully have Feng Xin realize he was awful and be apologetic, sometimes deal with it.

But probably most of the time, offhandedly, I'm like "Ah yes mq wouldn't catch him in a trust fall", which is something I just saw on my dash. when it's demonstrably, literally untrue, right?

They would both catch each other without hesitation. They literally do! Even when it's at a great risk to themselves!

I think the difference is what they think will happen:

Mu Qing, idk I could go either way. He might know that Feng Xin will catch him because Feng Xin is Like That. Or he might think it's a big question mark.

By Tong'lu he says something to the effect that he's running from them because they'll just kill him if they get ahold of him. But by then things have been escalating. Feng Xin hit him during the avalanche thing off screen and Mu Qing was surprised by it and asked why he'd hit him. We saw Feng Xin punch him before (after ghost city arc), but Mu Qing wasn't confused as to why that time. In other words, normally he might completely trust him but the events of the book threw everything out the window.

But I can't say for sure what Mu Qing would think would happen.

Weirdly, Feng Xin's response is the more complicated one.

Feng Xin does NOT think Mu Qing will or has serious doubts. Except...that's just what he'll verbalize. Literally what happens in the book, he gives no visible indication that he even remotely believes Mu Qing's explanations at Tong'lu.

It's only after Mu Qing suddenly disappears that the narrator tells us that he wasn't as convinced of Mu Qing 's guilt as he acted. He was just pissed and being an asshole. Mu Qing's disappearance is what actually shakes Feng Xin's belief in Mu Qing.

They have another argument earlier about JL:

-Feng Xin assumes the worst

-Mu Qing explains

-Feng Xin backs down for the moment (and goes to have a nervous breakdown)

-but when he sees him again he starts attacking him (avalanche scene), and this fight is bad enough that they've actually pulled weapons on each other

-This fight/argument continues until Hua Cheng shows up and they have bigger things to worry about

Then we have this:

Feng Xin's pattern might be:

Get mad, assume the worst, say things he doesn't mean, eventually calms down about it/acts like it's fine.

There are a couple times where he's argued into shutting up. It's just that he will bring that thing out, that he has been acting like he calmed down about and accepted, when he's mad.

I think he actually does at least subconsciously believe an Mu Qing Explanation PowerPoint. Why? Because that's what his overall behavior reflects. Or, even if, let's say he doesn't believe anything Mu Qing says ever, thinks he's the fucking worst: he still goes on little adventures with him and hangs out with him.

He doesn't suffer people he dislikes very much, does he? He doesn't even want Xie Lian to hang out with Hua Cheng! He's very "don't associate with those kinds of people." Actually, basically everything you "know" about Feng Xin, is not quite accurate by the end of the book, just like it is with Mu Qing.

Anyway, he still happily puts Xie Lian in a dress with Mu Qing. That's basically the definition of a sworn brother.

But at the end of the day, even though I think this is all very shitty behavior on Feng Xin's part and jail for Feng Xin, jail for Feng Xin for One Thousand Years, their relationship is something Mu Qing likes. He cares what he thinks about him. He doesn't want Feng Xin to think badly of him. Despite Feng Xin being the least generous person with benefit of the doubt, he still defends himself with him and the only other person he does that with is Xie Lian. Everyone else he's accepted he can't do anything about.

Like they must be having good times together that they both find worthwhile or they wouldn't be together. He must find things about him that he values.

Best guess is: he admires Feng Xin's selflessness and devotion to "what's right", the same way he thinks Xie Lian is cool. He wants to be around these two people. These are also the aspects he fucking hates the most and says are stupid and pointless and will get you killed. He hates this behavior, he rants about it, he is horrified by it, and yet he is someone who does it over and over and over again. And it always comes back to bite him in the ass.

As for what Feng Xin likes about Mu Qing...I don't know. Like I can't even guess. He likes the Queen a lot who is gentle and kind hearted and he likes the bravery and toughness of JL. He idolizes Xie Lian. But at no point does he assert Mu Qing is anything but the opposite of those people. Even when he has evidence to the contrary he forgets it or dismisses it. So I really have no idea what a canon reason is for him to like Mu Qing.

Maybe he thinks "I'll go with him because it seems fun or interesting" and "I have to protect him" and doesn't consciously attribute any part of that to Mu Qing.

It's possible he doesn't actually like him, as much as I hate to admit it, this would be mind-numbingly realistic for a guy that doesn't like thinking deeply about things. I think a lot of people don't think too deeply about friendship, because most of the time it's about familiarity and proximity and availability. We both like this activity, you're the person I know, we do it together. I'm sure you've met people, even married couples, that when it comes down to it don't actually like each other, they're just together out of familiarity and habit.

I do wonder what it would have been like if Mu Qing had died, that's kind of the usual outcome for a character like this, I feel like I rarely see in an adult book where a character like this has a suicide mission and then is ok or not, idk, very fucked up by it at least.

I do think they're friends, canonically, but I think their relationship is very unlike what we're used to seeing. But I also think mirrors closely a lot of relationships you see in real life, especially with dudes who hang out but don't figure out a Very Important Subject Ever.

Mostly this was just me making notes to myself and then I thought I'd share.

#tgcf meta #fengqing #feng xin #mu qing #xie lian #I added alt text this time like a good human being

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