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violettelueur · 4 years ago

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE FIFTEEN || KYOTO SISTER SCHOOL EXCHANGE EVENT - GROUP BATTLE 1

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 22 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.6k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 0

↳ next episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 2

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit...i can’t wait for my school term to finish...i am so done with education at this point ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ but other than that, i will continue my best to study for my last four exams (ugh) and get the best grades that i can ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ i hope you enjoyed this episode and let’s be excited for your coffee orders (requests) to be given at the 31st of March or 1st April ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“We’re starting in one minute”

“Now, let’s hear a few words of well-appreciated encouragement from Iori Utahime-sensei,” Gojo suddenly declared, leading the mentioned teacher to look at her colleague in complete shock before quickly beginning to sprout out whatever came into her head.

“U-Uh...Um, some degree of injury will be unavoidable, but, um..now and then, help each other out..or something…” Utahime stuttered out causing you and everyone else from the Tyoko team to look up at the speakers in both confusion as well as fed-up expressions since all of you knew that it was one of Gojo’s teasing antics again.

“Times up,” Gojo quickly stated in a playful tone leading you to look off to the side as you began to look around the area since you were wondering how the principals, teachers and possibly other jujutsu sorcerers were observing you since there were no cameras located to which caused you to suddenly come in eye contact with a pair of piercing pure onyx eyes that were staring down at the group you were with now making you come to the conclusion that someone was using a technique that allowed them to share sights with crows or have their sense being shared with them...either way, it was like having someone watching you 24/7.

‘Creepy...it’s like they’re sensing my death’

“Hey! Gojo, you little…” Utahime yelled out, irritated that she was interrupted out of her little encouragement speech - well, it wasn’t like she had a lot to say to you all anyways.

“Now, let the sister school exchange event...begin!” Gojo enthusiastically yelled out like it was a sports match, encouraging everyone in your team to start running forward in order to gain a head start on whatever the plan was.

“Respect your seniors!” the Kyoto teacher exclaimed loudly through the speakers after since it seemed like she wanted to remind your adoptive father that she was older than him, which can to a surprise for you since she looked much younger than you thought she was - well...you could say Gojo was a bit of the worst end when you found out his age, he seemed completely younger than he had mentioned to you when he took you out to a dessert place after a mission he set for you.

“Ichiro?!” Itadori questioned as he turned back to look at the speakers as if he was going to get the answer he wanted while Fushiguro looked at him with a non-chantant look on his face.

“So stupid,” Kugisaki commented as she gave off a disappointed look as she continued to run.

“Where do you think the cursed spirit boss is?” Itadori asked both Panda and Maki as he came toe to toe with them as he ran since he was truly determined to win this event as soon as possible.

“It was probably unleashed halfway between both schools, but it’s not just going to sit still, we just need Gojo to get there first to exorcise it since she isn’t allowed to fight anyone,” Panda answered, as you managed to catch up to your first-year classmate leading him to question how fast you could actually run since you didn’t show any athletic signs back when you and him were students at Sugisawa Municipal Highschool.

“At the time we agreed upon, we’ll split up into the Megumi squad and the Panda squad for scouting, we’ll be counting on you after that, Yuji,” Maki stated while turning her head slightly to look at the younger student leading Itadori to give her an encouraging salute and smile informing her that he knew what he had to do.

As you all continued to run, the black demon dog was running in front of all of you while barking to indicate where he was going leading you to quicken your speed to make sure you didn’t lose track of it since you now had the role to exorcise any curses that were around with the help of Maki, no matter what grade they were.

“Where are you going?” a spider curse questioned as it began to hang down by a string of its web, trying to seem intimidating when in reality it really wasn’t.

“That's a small fry,” Panda commented, leading you to unhook your katana that was behind your back from its position as you prepared to exorcise the thing by sliding it with the wooden stealth one since it was an extremely weak curse anyway. However, before you could even push yourself forward to cover the remaining distance that was between you and the disgusting spider curse, the demon dog that was in front of you turned it’s head to the side as if it had sensed something else from a distance.

“Gojo, stop!” Fushiguro shouted at you causing you to turn back to him before pressing your front foot to the ground to help slow down and halt your movement causing the demon dog to stand proactively in front of you as a sudden eruption of broken tree trunks as well as a huge cloud of debris covering the remaining path that everyone was running in leading them to pause around you.

Rapidly, as fast as the destruction came was as fast as the instructor appeared from the mist as Todo struck everyone was a confident grin since he was joyful that he had found everyone from the Tokyo team right in front of him - it was as if he had struck gold.

“Great! You’re all here! Come at me altogether! I want a re-match, Gojo!” Todo declared ambitiously as he pointed at you, leading everyone to go into a fighting stance since they didn’t want the possibility of losing you even when you knew that they knew that you could defend yourself, just not attack your opponent back at all.

As expected, Itadori took the first step as he ran towards the large student before suddenly jumping up to reach and grab onto Todo’s face as he proceeded to slam it against his knee, causing you to slightly cringe since you didn’t want to know how much pain his nose might be going thought at the very moment in time.

“Gojo! Don’t worry, I got Todo in check!” Itadori informed you, leading you to smile and nod at him as a way to thank him, causing Maki to shout out the command that everyone needed to do right now.

“Scatter!” Maki yelled out causing everyone to run off in two different directions with Kugisaki, Panda and Inumaki going to the left side of the forest, while you, Fushiguro and Maki took the right side, as you all needed to go in different directions to cover up a large amount of area you all had to cover in order to find the grade two cursed that was released for the players to exorcise to win the event for today.

“Todo was alone, it seemed like he really wanted to fight Gojo though,” Fushiguro commented as he turned back to look at you and Maki, while still running since there was a possibility that the grade-one sorcerer would come looking for you.

“We were right to swap Gojo with Yuji into that role,” Maki stated as she turned to you with a confident smile on her face leading you to give her one back before shifting your eyes to the dark blue metal pole that was dangling on the side of your hip, where you held it in place with a black belt that Kugisaki had gifted you one day during one of your random shopping trips.

‘I’ll thank her again later when all of this is done’

ꕥ

BEFORE THE EXCHANGE EVENT STARTED:

“Todo will absolutely be out to crush us straight away, Mai might follow behind him to come after me, too,” Maki mentioned to everyone, as she held her chin in a thinking posture as you sat next to her with your arms placed behind you to help support your upper body.

“Todo’s a monster, the worst possible outcome would be that we all face him and get wiped out,” Maki explained before turning to look at you before letting out a sigh of disappointment since she needed to change the current plan due to the fact there was a few new little rules being placed upon you to make the game fair. “So our plan was to leave just one person, that’s why we wanted Gojo to take him on since she is the most capable of keeping him at bay or more like knock him out to give us some time but rules are rules. Itadori, we’ll leave that role to you,” your senior classmate declared as she took in yours and Fushiguro’s suggestion from before leading to the mentioned sorcerer to point at himself with a little uncertainty.

“We’d rather not lose anyone who can scout out our enemies, you don’t have to beat him, just hold out as long as possible and buy is time,” Maki said with a smile as she lifted a thumbs-up to somewhat cheer up your classmate since she wasn’t completely sure on how well this plan would work, but she had a gut feeling that it was going to go well due to yours and Fushiguro’s previous statements.

“But you can be daring against him! To be blunt, we weren’t counting on your abilities anyway, so it won’t affect us too much if you have to quit,” Panda teasingly commented while giving him another thumbs-up, leading Itadori to inform his upperclassmen on how ‘mean’ his comment was in a whining tone.

“Sorry, Y/N. You wanted to face Todo, didn’t you?” Panda asked as he leaned his body forward to get a quick look at you.

“I’m good either way, it’s such a complete drag to fight him again anyways,” you answered before leaning your head back to face the ceiling as it seemed like a wave of unnecessary tension has been lifted from your shoulders - even though you knew you were more than capable of beating Todo, you weren’t too keen on fighting the close-ranged sorcerer since he was just plain annoying in your mind.

“But Senpai, if I’m gonna do this, then I’m gonna win,” Itadori declared with determination laced in not only his tone but his posture as well, leading you to look back down at him before gifting him an assured smile that quickly displayed itself of your face as you then gave him the final thumbs-up of approval that he needed.

‘Yeah, he’s got this’

ꕥ

While you, Fushiguro and Maki continued to run in whatever direction you three were going in, you were more focused on locating the second-grade curse you needed to exorcise to get this event done and over with since today you weren’t really in the mood to get into many first - you didn’t even have a single drop of orange juice today, and that already made you irritated.

However, as you continued sensing for the cursed spirited that you required to know the location of, your mind couldn’t help but get distracted by the amount of cursed energy that was looming around the area Itadori and Todo were located before at least four people from the ground and one person from above started to unexpectedly move away from leading you to become perplexed but slowly beginning to understand what was happening as you looked up to the sky to find a familiar blonde-haired sorcerer as she rode a broom across the sky.

“Fushiguro, use Nue right now,” you commanded, leading your classmate to look at you before looking up at the direction you were staring at to finally understand what you meant, which caused him to quickly summon the owl-like shikigami right in front of you.

“Take her down,” Fushiguro demanded his shikigami leading to the bird to unexpectedly appear behind the flying sorcerer with purple electricity enveloping his wings before flapping them down to transfer the high voltage lighting bolts to the third-year student leading to her falling from the sky into the maltitude of trees below to break her falling or possibly help her land somewhere that was not the ground to have a lighter impact than it should really.

“That’s strange,” Fushiguro suddenly commented, as you and Maki halted on your sprint since you all knew you couldn’t discuss the matter in hand while running to god knows where you three were planning to head to.

“All the Kyoto students are moving together, they’re all going to the same location,” you mentioned as you continued to survey where they were heading off to with your sense still enhanced.

“You mean that’s where the target is?” Maki asked you since she didn’t have the ability to see cursed energy at all, unlike you and Fushiguro, while the divine dog decided to nudge his snout against the back of your hand leading you to rub its head causing it to emit a rubble/purr as it begins to lavish on the affection it was receiving from you.

‘Not really the best time, but why not…’

“No, unless the second-grade is especially cunning, my demon dog would have noticed it,” Fushiguro said in a stern tone causing the dog to bark once in response before returning back to the attention you were giving it. “They’re trying to kill Itadori, aren’t they?” Fushiguro rhetorically questioned, leading a sigh to come out of your mouth before you turned your head towards the predicted location where you could sense the Kyoto’s students' cursed energies.

“It’s possible,” Maki replied as her gaze moved downwards, trying to understand why they would attempt an assassination during the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event, especially since the act of killing was prohibited as one of the main rules.

“I don’t sense that much hostility from them, but due to Itadori’s surprise survival, it is possible that Principal Gakuganji ordered then to that but to be honest, that was quite stupid of him since they don’t have the strength to even fully commit the assassination,” you quickly mentioned to your teammates leading them to look up at you with confusion on their faces.

‘I have to thank Gojo for this information later as well’

“Zenin Mai: grade three, Miwa Kasumi: grade three, Nishimiya Momo: semi-grade two, Muta Kokichi: semi-grade one, Kamo Noritoshi: semi-grade one and Todo Aoi: grade one,” you listed as you adding in their grades to make sure Fushiguro and Maki got an idea on what you were about to explain to them. “Out of all of them right now, Todo is the only one that has the capability to fight Sukuna, so Principal Gakuganji was willing to sacrifice his other students really quickly for the execution of Itadori since the rest of them wouldn’t survive,” you informed your schoolmates causing them to shudder at the fact on how informed you already were about the other students without them even ever mentioning about them to you.

“We’re turning back, guys,” Maki stated, causing you to turn to look at her before giving a nod to indicate to her that you understood what she wanted.

“Sorry,” Fushiguro unexpectedly apologised, while Maki just turned away and started to walk back in the opposite direction where everyone was running from.

“What are you apologising for, dummy? There’s no point in winning or losing the exchange event if your friend dies,” Maki said in a disappointed tone, leading to both you and Fushiguro to look at each other before starting to slowly follow her from behind leading you three to go back into the wooded area in search for the other Kyoto students, who were technically on the run now since they seemed to have failed to execute Itadori from what you could sense in the back of your mind.

‘Team Panda is probably doing the same right now since I can faintly sense Panda and Kugisaki going into the forest again, where is Inumaki though?’

ꕥ

“They’re up ahead,” you informed both Fushiguro and Maki since you could feel a stronger presence of cursed energy that was in front of you, leading you to realise that there were at least two Kyoto students since the rest of them seemed to split off somewhere.

Maki turned back to you and gave you a nod before fastening her pace as she suddenly noticed a shine of blue hair coming into her view leading the weapons specialist to prepare her red spare before quickly appearing out from your guys hiding spot to attack Miwa, who quickly managed to notice your upperclassmen as she pulled out her katana from her sheath to deflect Maki’s surprise as well as incoming attacks.

“Gojo, go ahead and find the curse, I’ll take care of Kamo-san,” Fushiguro informed you to which you replied to him with a nod.

During that second, Fushiguro came out from the side and headed towards Kamo leading you to take the small time that you were given to go on ahead and search for the grade-two curse that you needed to exorcise, only to suddenly feel a presence coming from behind leading you to rapidly turn around while raising your katana at the same time, only to discover Kamo standing right in front of you with his bow making direct contact with your weapon, leading you to become confused on why the semi-grade one sorcerer would even try to sneak attack you from behind.

‘Huh?’

“You didn’t even unsheathe your weapon, that’s strange,” Kamo commented, leading you to give him a deadpan look since you didn’t want him to notice or sense your confusion right now.

“Didn’t your little principal inform you to not fight with me or are you just getting a little too confident? That attitude of yours is going to be a drag,” you stated back in a nonchalant tone.

“Kamo-san, are you guys planning to kill Itadori?” Fushiguro asked from behind causing the mentioned sorcerer to turn his head back to view the erratic-haired sorcerer, leading you to smirk before you switch your hand that was holding the katana as you swiftly pulled it back to thrust the tip of your katana into Kamo’s stomach causing him to widen his eyes in shock as an immense pain started to engulf him as his body was pushed back with vast pressure causing Fushiguro to move out of the way to avoid his body colliding with Kamo’s.

‘Don’t get distracted next time, you drag’

Holding onto his stomach, Kamo slowly looked up at you and Fushiguro before coughing out in pain since your attack was more than what he had expected.

“And if I said we were?” Kamo answered, causing you to look at him with massive suspicion in your eyes.

“You failed, then. Itadori wouldn’t go down in such a short time,” Fushiguro declared with a small praise for his friend as he raised his tonfa in a defensive pose while you just straightened yourself up since you had no worries about being attacked again.

“We have no reason to kill him,” Kamo stated with a smirk on his face causing you to turn your head to the side and scoff at him since it was hilarious that he was acting so confident after just barely managing to withstand a simple physical attack from you before you turned back to face him again.

‘What a drag~’

“Yes, you do. The higher-ups and the three major clans have plenty,” you mentioned before resting your katana over your shoulder to relax for a second since you could sense that this fight was either going to be easy or too easy for your liking.

‘It’s surprising that he is attempting to fight me though, I wonder if Gojo-sensei forgot to inform them about this little extra rule but I still need to find out about that mole...’

ꕥ

“Ah~ I thought I told you to tell your students to not attempt to fight Y/N? they’re only going to get hospitalised in the process,” Gojo playfully asked, as he turned to look behind his seat to be eye to eye with the Kyoto Principal, who was in charge of informing his students about this new rule that he and Principal Yaga implemented.

“Well, she attacked Kamo, so she’s breaking the rule isn’t she?” Utahime asked as she took a sip from her cup leading Gojo to turn to look at her with a slight frown on his face.

“Well, your student did attack her first, she can’t help but retaliate since that was her normal strength right there. If it was any other student, they would have been eliminated real quick,” Gojo informed his colleague causing her eyes to widen before turning back to the screen to only discover your eyes were directly looking at her since you were directly looking at the crow that was inspecting you right now.

“She’s quite an interesting girl,” a sorcerer from behind commented as she proceeded to open her eyes. “Not only did she notice my crows looking at her since the start of the event, but she’s also quite strong, no wonder you took her in,” she mentioned as she faced forward to notice Gojo looking at her.

“She’s a tough cookie, isn’t she Mei-san?” Gojo said with a proud smile on his face before he processed to face the screens again with the smile now straightening.

‘I don’t know what he’s trying to do, but I know Y/N won’t fall for it naively, she’s more the type to manipulate his plan...besides, it’s as if she’s giving him a death glare right now’

This thought of his caused him to giggle lightly, creeping out Utahime as she stared at him in pure confusion.

‘I know she can do it’

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aro-is-gay-af · 4 years ago

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The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 3

I reckon, that if you’re reading Part 3, then you know two previous ones. In case you didn’t read them yet: Part 1 | Part 2

Thank you for all warm words and praise! It means world to me.

I also love this series, folks! I need to admit, I did get addicted to it a little, so I thought it’d be great to set updates schedule. It won’t be precise, but you can expect another part roughly in two weeks time from now.

As per usual, sorry for any confusion and grammatical mistakes.

Warnings: Rape (mentioned), Depression, PTSD, Forced Pregnancy, Blood

Word count: 6200

No summary this time. Also, this one has very sweet parts in it!!!

ENJOY!

The next day, you had your appointment with the doctor. A doctor was apparently a woman and you were sure the kings were paying her something extra for the visit to be immediate. Unfortunately, she didn’t know any English, as she was a local gynaecologist. Your mates didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, so before the visit, Aro asked you, who you’d like to be the translator for you.

The ideal situation would be a woman, but you didn’t trust anyone in the castle, except the kings. For this reason, your first shot was Aro, as he had already seen your memories. There was nothing that would shock him, you also didn’t need to hide anything from him and you knew, he was the best at dealing with others. You figured it’d be an ideal solution and you had to admit to yourself that you simply wanted him to accompany you.

The whole visit took place in your room, which meant a lot of carrying the necessary equipment, but more mental comfort for you. In those two days, you managed to get quite settled in and didn't want to leave the castle. You felt safe and secured in your suite. Kings seemed to notice that, as it was Marcus, who proposed, it would be a great idea to have an appointment without the need of leaving your room.

While you both were waiting for the doctor to come, it was the first time you had seen Aro with brown eyes. He looked really out of place. You shared this thought with him, by saying you prefer when his eyes are normal. That’s what it took. Two days, to consider red eyes normal. As usual, he was polite and revealed to you that he also hated the colour, let alone the lenses.

When the doctor finally arrived, you were already a nervous wreck. Aro tried to distract you, asking questions mainly about your house in Forks and whether you had already spoken to Bella about family heirlooms. He succeeded for a while, but it couldn't last forever, could it?

The lady was extremely kind and gentle. The truth was, it was hard to hide how stressed you were about this visit. You didn't want anyone to touch you, not when you weren't ready, and this time you definitely weren't. Despite the doctor's initial efforts, you were unable to shake her hand in greeting. She only smiled sadly, as if understanding perfectly what you were going through. Aro assured you beforehand, for he had not told her anything and only if you wanted to, you should share your trauma with her.

The doctor, seeing your nervousness, decided that you should talk first. While she asked you questions, you noticed that she chose her words carefully and only then did you realise that she was also stressed, but in her case it was probably Aro's presence that made her uncomfortable. Although Aro tried not to impose his presence on her, you understood why it might overwhelm the doctor. You felt confident being in the same room with Aro, while she probably sensed danger, even if she could not rationally explain it to herself. You promised yourself that you would try to learn at least the basics of Italian before the next visit.

She needed to ask you about exactly everything since, unfortunately, you didn't have any medical records with you - neither from the obduction, nor from the subsequent visit to the doctor, where you confirmed the pregnancy. You made a mental note to tell Bella about it, so she could send your documents, along with the things she was supposed to take from your house.

Aro was great in his translator role. Of course, you were still looking at the doctor, while answering the questions, but Aro’s voice, at least, soothed your shattered nerves just a little bit. When the questions started to get more complicated or more intimate, Aro used such words as to not make you feel uncomfortable, while still conveying the meaning. The more difficult part started, when you had to describe the situation from the hospital and how long it took for the bleeding to stop. Every word seemed linked to a particular image or smell from that night, until finally, you were unable to say anything at all.

The doctor was very understanding, probably having already guessed what exactly was your weird behaviour all about. You didn't say anything directly, you only described the situation from the hospital and then told her the details of this strange bleeding after the rape. Mainly because the doctor was very concerned about it. She explained to you that it was definitely not normal, even if you had wounds inside.

The worst part, however, was the examination. You didn't even want to think about whether you would have to undress, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The doctor had a great intuition, even if she herself was under a bit of stress. You told her that, indeed, you had been to the check-up before and that was how you found out you were pregnant. And that the doctor then checked if all the wounds had healed. The lady didn’t discuss the issue, for which you were very grateful.

After the interview, the doctor told you to lie down on the bed and only pull your blouse up, high enough for your belly to be visible. You didn't feel comfortable with this, but you preferred this way to undressing from the waist down. This was the first time you didn't feel comfortable lying on that bed. You knew that once the visit was over, everything would return to normal, but it wasn’t meant to become a memory you would return to with pleasure.

As it turned out, your first trimester was long over. The pregnancy was about 14 weeks old and that would explain the slight curving of your belly. Before the appointment, you were not sure if you would even look at the monitor to see the baby, but you did. You could not deny yourself this. The room fell silent and you could not tell what you were feeling.

The doctor pulled out some kind of a strange device and after a moment, you could hear the baby's heart. You glanced in the direction of Aro, who was obviously alarmed by your face. You grimaced, too overwhelmed to say anything to him. Up until this point, you were sure that the decision, if you should terminate the pregnancy or not, would be fairly easy. Now, you were certain that nothing in your life could be simple enough.

Over the next few weeks, your day usually looked the same or similar, yet you managed to do something completely different every day. You were glad you had so much to do, because you didn't have time to think about what had happened. You didn't want to analyse it over and over again. The kings respected your choice - unless you yourself mentioned the traumatic events, not a single insinuation or implication about it fell from their lips.

Your days were filled with various activities. Every day you spent at least some time with each king in private - you knew you needed this to create and strengthen your bond. To keep you from being inundated with information, you learned something new from each of them about vampires and their lifestyle. After all, it was supposed to become your lifestyle in the nearest future. You discovered that thinking about your transformation caused you far less anxiety, than any memory associated with rape. Even after you learned that it more or less consisted of burning alive for a few days.

During your time with the kings, you tried not to show the insecurity you had acquired about your body, and yet, you were sure they knew anyway. However, the time spent with them was what you treasured most. With each of them you did something different, as you wanted to know what they like to do in their free time. Marcus, as he had promised on the first day, taught you Italian for two hours every day. It was not easy, but after a few weeks of intensive course and communicating in broken Italian, not only with Marcus, but also with the other two, you were able to maintain basic conversation.

Marcus was a great teacher, but that wasn’t the only reason why you loved spending time with him. He was the one who had the most time for you - he wasn't as busy as Aro or Caius, and besides, he had countless amounts of patience. He wasn't tired of your constant questions, not only about vampirism, but also about his past. You would often sit for hours in the library or in the gardens, which, by the way, were breathtaking. You both loved books and your only regret was that you weren't able to read most of their vast collection. Marcus assured you, you would have all eternity to do so. You could talk with him endlessly, as these conversations were truly effortless – even the most difficult topics seemed simple and uncomplicated.

You were surprised to learn about a gift of his. Your human mind was unable to comprehend it in the full sense of the word. Mostly because of this, he was the one to explain to you, what your bond even was and how exactly it worked. You have learned that after your transformation, you will feel the bond even more strongly. It is not often that one person has as many as three matches and is able to feel the bond while being human. Marcus explained to you that for now, both your mind and body are only subconsciously sensing the presence of the mates, as it’s impossible for human senses to do anything else.

It was so remarkable to you that you discussed it for hours. You also learned that the bond can be broken, as it is not forced in any way. However, this would be emotionally painful and very few vampires would choose to take such a desperate step.

One afternoon you were spending time in the garden again. You loved being outdoors, but for your own safety you did not go outside the castle grounds. Together, you decided that it would be safer to do only after your transformation. Besides, you didn't want to go anywhere. You were safe under the watchful eye of your mates and Renata, who, apart from the time spent with the kings and in your room, followed you in a constant manner.

The gardens were gorgeous and you wondered, who was taking care of all those magnificent flowers. You were strongly convinced that this was exactly what Eden might have looked like. You and Marcus had your favourite bench. You spent a lot of time outside, especially on sunny days. When you first found out why sitting in the sun might be a problem, you couldn't take your eyes off Marcus. He shimmered brilliantly, but your eyesight couldn't stand it for too long, because of the blinding effect. The gardens, however, were fenced off and inaccessible to the common passer-by, so you were safe to stay, as long as you wanted to.

“I asked Aro recently, if vampires can be killed in some way,” you began cautiously, not wanting to scare him away from this conversation. No one had talked to you about it, however, it still crossed your mind what state Marcus was in when you first saw him. You were willing to swear you looked exactly the same after your mother died. Now, knowing what all the mating bond was about, you were convinced that Marcus had lost someone dear to his heart.

As per usual, he smiled gently at you.

“I'm sure his answer was sufficient, my dear. What are you aiming at?” he asked, looking at you obliquely.

You took his hand in yours. With Marcus, physical contact was as easy as a conversation. He, however, never initiated any touch. He waited for you, just like he was waiting now, to reach for his hand or gently grasp his arm. The only movement he allowed himself was to stroke your hair every now and then, but only when he was absolutely sure you were willing.

“I wanted to ask what happens to the bond, when the vampire…is no longer here,” you said bluntly, not taking your eyes off him. Your understanding was unique. Marcus was gentle in manner, patient and extremely caring towards you. In no way did you want to ruin, what you had built over those few weeks.

His smile turned into one of the saddest you've seen on his face. By the time he answered, you regretted asking at all. You didn't want to cause him pain. You squeezed his fingers in your palm.

“Until you came to Volterra, I was sure that a vampire could only experience this special, unique bond once in a lifetime. I did experience it, yet this story does not have a happy ending,” he said, with utmost sadness in his voice.

Your heart ached, as you watched his suffering and grief. You had asked the question unnecessarily, but now there was no turning back. You continued to stroke his fingers, holding his hand securely in yours.

“When one of the vampires connected by mating bond dies, it does not mean that the bond disappears. It exists, but only on one side. It cannot be cherished, it cannot be repaired in any way. It isn’t reciprocated. What remains are the memories, and they are the only reminder of what the bond really meant, when it existed,” he explained in a distressed voice, slowly and carefully.

Holding his hand, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed heavily.

“I'm so sorry this happened to you,” you whispered after a moment, feeling tears stinging under your eyelids. Even now, you couldn't imagine losing any of them and you couldn't possibly envision the amount of pain Marcus had gone through.

He embraced you carefully and gently hugged you to his side.

"Don't fret over it, cara. I've made my peace with it. However, that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I still miss her, after all these years," he said with longing in his voice, stroking your shoulder gently.

After a long moment of silence, you were in a genuinely poor condition. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your breathing quickened. Not only because of the pain Marcus must have gone through, but also because of your own yearning. You had come to terms with the death of your parents, but you missed them so much. You wanted to have them at least a little longer. Now, standing on the verge of immortality, you wished you had spent more time with them.

Marcus placed a kiss on your hair.

“Sob it out, dear. Nothing helps the soul more than honest tears,” he whispered, and you were ashamed, because you should be the one providing comfort for him. However, the memories were too fresh and you couldn't hold it back.

Once you had calmed down a bit, he handed you a handkerchief to wipe away your tears.

“I wish I could change my memories. Even if it was only for a brief moment to be able to forget that I will never see them again. To be able to forget what this…this monster did to me,” you whispered, snuggling tighter into his shoulder.

You heard his sigh and his embrace around your shoulder tightened.

“You have been terribly abused, cara. No one deserves such a fate. The most important thing now, is to get on with life. Our loved ones would not want us to dwell on their deaths,” he said, as wise and thoughtful, as ever. The hatred towards your abuser was palpable in Marcus’s voice.

“You are so good to me. I don't deserve this,” you whispered after a while, your voice swollen with emotion. He only smiled indulgently.

“You deserve the very best, dear. I've already lost one mate. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you,” you said with compassion, after another moment of silence.

“I’m not quite certain about that,” he said, placing another kiss on the top of your head.

But you were sure. You were also sure, you would do anything to prevent Marcus from experiencing something like this again. You knew all too well the taste of grief.

You truly had little time to think about the rape and pregnancy at all. If you weren’t with Marcus, it was Caius who loved to kidnap you, so he could spent some private time with you. Caius was the complete opposite of Marcus – absolute chaos, you could say. You had no idea how the brothers even got along. You had already noticed that Marcus rarely spoke, while Caius was rather impulsive and liked to discuss things in detail. However, until you started spending time alone, you had no idea what he was really passionate about.

It turned out that his greatest passion was art. He would show you countless paintings he himself had painted throughout the centuries. He could talk for hours about types of paint and how to mix colours properly. Although you were not very good at painting, you tried to learn a little with Caius’ help. When he was alone with you, he was still abrupt and impulsive, but in a charming way. He never imposed himself on you and you discovered that annoying him was really great fun. So banter and frequent teasing were the order of the day.

You often spent afternoons and evenings with Caius. He taught you how to paint, but not only. Art history was his passion and you loved to listen to him tell stories. His voice was mesmerising and hypnotic. He also eagerly answered all your questions about vampire race. You listened about the horrible children of the moon and how Caius singlehandedly had almost slaughtered them all. He warned you that after the transformation you would be violent and impulsive, that you would have nothing on your mind but to satisfy your thirst. This frightened you slightly, but at times when things got weird or dangerous, Caius assured you that you would always have full support of your mates. You never doubted that. You knew they would help you to grow accustomed to your new life.

Caius loved every variety of art you could name. When he asked you for permission to sculpt you, you were so surprised that you made a strange sound. He said that, of course, he wasn't going to overstep your boundaries and you yourself would choose some beautiful casual attire, so he could portray your beauty in sculpture. All you had to do was dress once as he asked and stand in the right pose. He remembered every detail of your posture, including your facial expressions. Often, he would sculpt you, while you would talk about insignificant things also learning how to sculpt...well, things that didn't resemble anything. Yet, you wanted to be as good as he was.

You were in your nineteenth week, when he invited you for a long painting session. His studio was huge and consisted of nothing but breathtaking works of art. You were decorating some random sculpture that you had never seen before. Caius also loved contemporary art, so you could go wild. Taking classes with him was better, than any therapy. You could smear paint on everything - the canvas, the sculptures, yourself, and even him, because he was usually in a good mood and you could enjoy it. He never showed you even a trace of anger, and you, fooling around with him like that, were genuinely pleased and happy.

When you finished, the room looked rather bad, not to mention the clothes or your hair. Caius would never have appeared that way to the guards, let alone on trial, but with you it was different.

“I wanted to show you something,” he said, wiping the paint off your cheek.

You took his hand. Caius, like Marcus, did not invade your personal zone, unless you specifically gave permission. However, carnality and touch were important to him, and so, once you were more comfortable in his presence, he liked to show you affection by stroking your cheek or your back, and intertwining his fingers with yours, when you held hands. You didn't mind his cold skin – by now you were accustomed to it, as three of them had similar body temperature. You were the hottest here. Literally.

You walked slowly to another room.

“I didn't tell you, but I finished craving” he said, and you could hear the excitement in his voice. You smiled at him. That was the main reason why you had agreed to have yourself sculpted in the first place. You wanted to get close to him on a level, which was inaccessible to do in any other way.

“Before you show me, will you tell me as to where you even got the idea of carving me?” you asked, amused. Caius was much taller than you, you had to slightly lift your head to look him straight in the eye.

At first, he smiled archly, but immediately his smile softened. He pulled at the material that covered the sculpture, so that it fell to the floor. You were simply speechless. The woman, who stood opposite to you was over four metres tall. The sculpture was made of marble and the woman looked, as if she was an actual person. There was something elusive about her. Her face, thoughtful yet serene, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders onto her back. She was clad in a fine fabric that flowed in waves down to her bare feet. She looked nothing like you and yet, you two looked exactly alike.

You had no idea that you started crying. The woman was beautiful. You could feel the power and dignity emanating from her, and on the other hand, she seemed to you as if... fragile and ephemeral. Caius had captured in this sculpture all the feelings you had been feeling, without even knowing it.

You felt his hand on your cheek, his fingers gently wiping away your tears along with some paint, which remained on your face.

“I thought I would like you to see yourself through my eyes. Exactly as I see you – without a single flaw, yet with all your imperfections. I don't want you to be unable to look at yourself, because of what this animal did to you. I don't see it. I only see you, [Y/N]. The real you. Beautiful and fragile, yet powerful, without inhibitions or scruples. Capable of anything.”

The words were trapped in your throat. You wanted to say something, but you were sure, that as soon as you were going to open your mouth, uncontrollable sob would come out. You looked first at Caius, then at the woman carved in marble, then back at Caius. He only smiled gently.

“Who we are – we decide that ourselves. No one else does. To me, you are beautiful. Pure. Never think otherwise, dolcezza.”

Without warning, you hugged him so hard, that it hurt. You forgot that his skin was different from yours. He embraced you without hesitation, even though you were all covered in paint. You wept, cuddling into his chest, as he soothingly stroked your hair and back.

Once you had slightly calmed down, you looked up at him. His blond hair looked like a halo over his head. He amazed you in every sense of the word.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me see this,” you whispered poignantly, and then went straight back to hugging him.

“There's nothing to thank you for, my lovely [Y/N]. I would like you to accept yourself as you are. Because you are truly magnificent.”

The only person you talked straightforward about pregnancy was Aro. Was it because of his gift? Most likely, and you simply felt you could trust him. From the moment you first found yourself in his arms, the bond between you two only strengthened. Also, a memorable visit from the doctor was also significant, and then, together with him, you went through the documents that Bella had sent you. To say he was furious, was an understatement. Yes, Aro saw your memories, but the reports were written from a third-person perspective. And the other evening was really awful – you couldn't stop crying because you couldn't block out the flow of memories.

You were close with each other; close enough for you to try to overcome your insecurities, to talk about how you really felt about this whole situation you found yourself in. It was far from easy, but Aro was a really patient specimen. In the course of these talks, you discussed practically everything. You knew that every scenario had to be worked out and discussed, because there were many different options of the outcome.

Despite many conversations, you were still unsure about keeping the baby. You didn't know if you wanted to, if you would be able to raise it and then tell it that it would forcibly have to become a vampire. After the doctor's appointment, things did not get any easier for you. You heard the heart and knew that the child was not to blame for its father’s actions. You were raped, but this child had nothing to do with it.

So you waited. You waited for a miracle to decide for you or for the baby to move when you were thinking of having it removed. It’d be a sign not to do it. However, nothing of the sort was happening and fate was not deciding for you. Aro convinced you that, even if you decided to have an abortion, there was nothing wrong about it. No one would blame you for it. The only person to blame here, was the monster who raped you.

You hadn't decided what you would do about the pregnancy, but you and Aro knew what would happen, if something went wrong. For your mates, it was your health and life that came first. Aro assured you of that a thousand times over. Because of this, if anything went wrong with the birth or if there were any complications, you were to be changed immediately. Also because of this, Aro talked to you about all aspects of your transformation. He was the one who introduced you to what transformation actually looks like. He didn't scare you with the pain you were about to go through, but only gave you the facts. Facts that you needed to know.

When you weren't talking about such serious matters, Aro also loved to spend time talking to you, but about different topics. He seemed to know all your thoughts, but you were still able to surprise him. He explained to you, that the human mind was more disordered and chaotic, than vampire one and that he certainly didn't see everything. Your brain chose the memories, often associated with strong feelings and emotions, which were meant to be remembered. You were joyful about this, because you could talk endlessly and he kept finding out something new about you. And you kept finding something new about him. You knew from the first moment that he was extraordinary, and the more you talked, the more you became certain about it.

Besides, Aro adored dancing. You were not convinced about this form of activity, but it was the intimacy of this act that convinced you. In his arms, no one was able to hurt you. You felt safe and, after many attempts, quite confident in your movements. He literally beamed, being able to teach you to dance and to be so close to you. You found nothing in his eyes but the infinite adoration he had for you. When you found out the reason behind this, your heart almost broke with sorrow and compassion.

“I must confess something to you, cara mia,” he whispered, holding you securely in his arms. It was evening, you had long since been prepared for sleep. He found your long nightgown to his liking, when he came to check how you were doing and if you needed anything. You rested your head on his shoulder. There was no music, he was the one giving the rhythm to your movements, yet it was the most wonderful dance you had yet had the chance to dance with him.

“Do tell, please,” you said, trying not to lose the rhythm. You were tired, as throughout the day you sorted through the things Bella sent you from Forks. In addition, you worked with Marcus to sell your house, because you were, after all, a little concerned about what hands your family home would pass into.

“I have been bound over the centuries to both men and women. My ex-wife, Sulpicia, whom you know and, to the best of my knowledge, whom I permitted to leave, was my faithful companion, basically from the beginning of my immortality. However, until now, I did not know what it meant to have a true mate.”

He tilted you gently, wishing to look into your eyes. You continued to sway to a non-existent rhythm, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You furrowed your brows.

“Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper, not wanting to ruin the moment. The light emanating from the candles, illuminated half of his face. He smiled, and you were unable to take your eyes off his red irises.

“Yes, my dear. I have waited over three thousand years for you. I must tell you, that I could wait another three millennia, only to see your beautiful face,” he said affectionately, holding you tighter against him to stroke your flushed cheek with his fingers.

Your eyes welled up with tears and he slowly bent down and kissed your forehead.

“That's enough for today, cara mia. You must rest well. Caius has something planned for tomorrow, but he didn't want to reveal what, under any circumstances,” he said amused, giggling under his breath. You loved when Aro was in a good mood, because then you were in a good mood too. Before he walked you to bed, he wiped away your tear. You squeezed his hand in yours, then climbed onto the bed. He covered you carefully with a duvet and stroked your hair.

“I'm glad I came here,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never want to leave you,” you said with force. He smiled softly at you and stroked your hair once more.

“We will always be by your side, [Y/N]. Good night, cara.”

His voice so soft and tuneful that as soon as he snuffed out the candles, you drifted off to sleep in an instant.

Apart from the fact that almost everything was going great and your mental state was in constant improvement, your relationship with Bella had severely worsened. In the beginning you talked every evening. She still couldn't understand why you were selling the house and why you wouldn't, at least, want to visit Forks. After a while, you got fed up with explaining it to her. There were an awful lot of things she wasn't happy about and she didn't hide it. She kept criticising the Volturi without knowing them and having no idea, what they were actually doing.

You loved her like a sister, but because of that, she could annoy you exactly like one. Because of her pinching remarks and your lack of patience, you called each other less and less. You didn't want to keep getting annoyed and you were tired of explaining things to her. Besides, you didn't like that she didn't say a single good word about your mates. You at least tried to accept Edward. Suddenly, what he did to her was all forgotten and you couldn't understand it. You didn't know, what was happening to your sister and your stay in Italy didn’t exactly make things better. You still hoped that once you saw each other after the transformation, you would be able to explain it all to one another. You didn't want to lose Bella, the last person you considered family.

So you talked less and less or not at all, and when you did, you avoided difficult and sensitive topics. It was not like with Bella at all and it made you anxious. You were at ease with each other, almost always, and you didn’t get why she was so bitter and hateful towards your knew, chosen life. Especially, because partially your presence right then, in the trial chamber, was the reason for her to be alive at all.

Shortly after Caius presented you with your sculpted self, you were to spend the whole day together, the four of you. These were the days you loved the most. Although you cherished the time spent with each of your mates separately, the presence of all three put you in an ecstatic mood. You usually spent your afternoons like this – there were still a lot of things to do and solve, and a lot of trials to carry out.

Being in Volterra for so long, you learned a lot about the existing laws and how to enforce them. You knew that kings were not flawless, but it was logical to you that keeping the entire vampire world in line, required some sacrifices. Some greater than the other ones.

You usually sat down in the study, where you had ended the very first day, at a round table. You listened to the discussions and arguments, but also just spent time with your mates. You often sat on Aro's lap or tried to calm Caius down, when he became too agitated.

You were extremely excited since the morning, because they promised you a whole day outside. It wasn't often that all three of them wanted to spend time with you in the gardens, so you couldn't restrain your exhilaration. However, there were also days, or rather moments, when, under any circumstances, you could not leave your room. Such a moment was to occur today, after breakfast. You slept for a long time, almost until eleven o'clock. When you ate your breakfast, it was Renata who informed you that it was time to eat. Of course, you knew what it was about.

The only situation, in which you could not leave your chamber, was at lunchtime. Not yours, though, but the lunchtime of all the vampires, who inhabited the castle. For your own safety, usually for about two hours, you were not to leave and to occupy yourself with whatever you wanted. The only two hours, in which Renata or anyone else was not around you. Not many people knew about your stay in the castle and because of this, the kings decided that Renata should eat with the rest of the company.

You did not consider it strange in the slightest. Of course, you tried not to think about the fact that people would die, but you knew that they were chosen at random. Which meant that they could just as well have been run over by a car or they could have died in a fire. You did not think about it. You were just enjoying your two hours of freedom. Sometimes you sunbathed on the balcony, prepared your outfit or just played on the computer. These were little things that still reminded you of being human.

This week, when Renata told you that she would be gone for a while, you were already enjoying a long soak in the bathtub. The home spa was one of the favourite things you and your mum liked to do together. You poured hot water into the tub, applied a mask that you had prepared yourself with a few ingredients and relaxed.

Since you had no idea when, you were no longer afraid to look in the mirror. Sure, your body shape was far from ideal, but at least you weren’t terrified to look. You weren’t terrified to acknowledge that, yes, your body was raped, but you were recovering from it. And that you started to think that your body didn’t cause any of this.

After some time you spent in the bathtub, you felt a little dizzy. It wasn’t exactly a good sign, so you figured it’d be wise to get out of the tub. When you rinsed yourself off with clean water, you stood up, and that was the moment of terror. The room immediately started spinning, like you were on roundabout for the last forty minutes. You felt nauseous, but there was nothing near you to which you could cling to. You managed to step out of the tub, on the marble step, and then you felt it. Pain, excruciating pain, suffocation. Streams of blood went down your legs and before you fell onto the ground, you could only see white marble floor all covered in sanguineous blood.

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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

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Once again, I am thinking about the dubious claim that people make from time to time that Renji would have gotten better character development in the TYBW arc if Byakuya had died. The thing is, though, that Renji did get excellent character development in this arc, particularly with respect to his relationship to Byakuya, it was just very subtle and I want to talk about it.

So, the first thing I want to point out is that the captain-lieutenant relationships is one of the major themes of the TYBW. A lot of this is sort of weird and awkward, but this is perfect, actually, because captain-lieutenant relationships are, for the most part, weird and clunky and awkward. Take for example, the part that I always make fun of, where the captains are told not to go to bankai, and Hitsugaya, Komamura, Byakuya and Soi Fon immediately go to bankai-- but they all do this on the assumption that they are luring their opponent into a trap to see how this works, and that their lieutenant will somehow ??defeat them anyway?? (well, except Soi Fon who seems to think she can one-shot her Quincy). There’s Sasakibe’s funeral, where we find out that Yamamoto cared far more for him than we ever imagined. Kyouraku returns Nanao’s zanpakutou to her and stands behind her as she defeats an opponent he can't. Iba carries Komamura’s body off of the battlefield as he loses the last of his humanity. Isane struggles to keep her head above her grief because that’s the burden Unohana left her with. Rose avenging Kira. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto fighting and (sort of) dying together. The Zaraki-Yachiru thing. The Mayuri-Nemu thing. Momo and Shinji actually got to have a relatively normal one, which they each deserved, but at least they got to have normal one together. Anyway, that could be an entire essay, but as usual, I only want to talk about Renji and Byakuya.

Renji’s introduction as a character happens in stages. Initially, he sort of appears to be Byakuya’s sidekick-- he's here to do the dirty work during Rukia’s arrest, while Byakuya stands by and calls the shots, but even early on, it’s clear that Renji’s a little hung up on Byakuya. He’s trying to impress him, and gets more embarrassed and self-conscious as things go progressively pear-shaped. When Byakuya finally enters the action, Renji’s thought bubbles reveal that he’s watched Byakuya for a long time, that he knows all his moves. When we get the Renji backstory reveal a few issues later, we learn that Renji’s goal is to defeat Byakuya, which he seems to feel is necessary to seeing Rukia again, even though there has never been any sort of causal link revealed between these two things. Don’t get me wrong, if Young Academy Renji had tried to continue to be friends with Rukia, I think Byakuya would have kicked him out on his ass, but it’s clear that a lot of Renji’s hang-ups are internal-- he doesn’t want to face Rukia again until he can stand against Byakuya. I think the origin of this is that he simply wants what’s best for Rukia, and he can’t stomach the idea of asking her to leave her rich, noble family for him, unless, of course, he’s somehow better than Byakuya in some dimension, and the only thing Renji’s ever considered himself good at is fighting.

Even more interesting is that he’s chosen to go about this by... studying the man’s every move and becoming his lieutenant. But for as much energy as Renji has put into learning Byakuya’s favorite combat moves, he doesn’t actually know anything about him as a person. He’s shocked when Rukia predicts that Byakuya won’t lift a finger to help her, and then horrified when this actually comes to pass. A few chapters later, as he’s running Hinamori through, Aizen comments that “Adoration is the state furthest from understanding.” I would probably classify Renji’s feelings towards Byakuya more as admiration or idolization, rather than adoration, but I think this statement is also very true of Renji and Byakuya’s relationship. Unlike poor Momo, Renji gets a little more time and opportunity to do something with this information. With a little Ichigo-forced soul searching, he realizes that he’s not going to come out the hero of this story no matter what, but if he doesn’t do something, Rukia’s not going to come out of this story at all, and even if he’s not really ready, he’s spent 40 years trying to figure out how to beat Kuchiki Byakuya, let’s hope all that was good for something.

The Byakuya-Renji fight has no direct impact on the events of the Soul Society Arc. It makes Byakuya show up to Rukia’s execution 5 minutes late and without his scarf. Renji gets healed, so it really doesn’t matter all that much to him, either. You could argue that they both wasted a bunch of energy (that they could have used to fight Aizen later) but it’s primarily a character-driven moment of them both drawing lines in the sand about where they stand, vis a vis Rukia. Byakuya wins this fight, and he wins it handily, but he’s wrong, as he comes to realize a few issues later, when Ichigo kicks his ass and tells him he’s a bad brother, a lesson that Byakuya will take to heart for the rest of the manga. Byakuya claims that the difference between Renji and himself is class, but the real difference between is the heart, and in the long run, Renji is the real victor of this fight.

The hospital scene is an interesting footnote to this. Byakuya defeated Renji, but Byakuya was the asshole and everyone knows it. There’s an expectation that perhaps Renji will quit or perhaps Renji will give him an earful and perhaps even Rukia will choose to leave the family, either to go to the Living World or to be with Renji (and Byakuya would deserve this), but instead, both Renji and Rukia give Byakuya another chance, which is not, I think, a place Renji ever expected to be.

Rukia and Byakuya building up a sibling relationship after this is fairly straightforward (although I’m sure it had its weird moments), but Byakuya and Renji now have this profoundly awkward relationship where Byakuya is obviously in charge, but he sort of depends on Renji as a personal compass because he’s shit at dealing with people and he doesn’t want to screw stuff up with Rukia again. Take for example, the part of the Hueco Mundo arc where Orihime is kidnapped and Rukia and Renji desert their posts to come help rescue her. Kubo takes to the panel-space to tell us that Byakuya has tacitly approved this. As a clan head and a captain, a person who is entrenched in the hierarchy of Soul Society, Byakuya couldn’t possibly go to Hueco Mundo-- but he can turn a blind eye while his sister and lieutenant scurry out through the Kuchiki family senkaimon. Renji, for his part, tried to go to Hueco Mundo through official channels and got shot down. We don’t know what Renji would have done if Byakuya had explicitly forbidden him from going, but it doesn’t matter-- Byakuya enabled Renji to follow his heart here, because Byakuya can’t. Rukia would have gone to Hueco Mundo regardless. She cares about Byakuya, but she doesn’t depend on him for validation the way Renji does.

I said this was going to be about the TYBW, so let’s get to that. Early in the arc, we’re shown several scenes where it’s clear that Byakuya respects and values Renji as a lieutenant, but he’s also pretty damn patronizing to him. Renji is the first one to engage As Nodt, and when Byakuya shows up, he acts surprised that Renji hasn’t taken him out yet, but then proceeds to take over the fight (real, “stand back, fives, an eleven has arrived” energy). After Byakuya then loses his bankai like a doofus, Renji wants to take point so that Byakuya can figure out As Nodt’s attack and Byakuya won’t let him... and then proceeds to get thrashed.

This has to be one of the most emotionally charged fights in Bleach. Byakuya is losing, and Renji jumps in, absolutely incensed that As Nodt would use Senbonzakura against Byakuya. Renji isn’t doing great, but he’s not doing terrible when Byakuya gets up and tries to help Renji, even though he’s a big bloody mess. As Nodt reacts by shredding Byakuya into chunks, and Renji just loses it, and if Mask de Masculine hadn’t shown up and kicked him halfway across the Seireitei, I daresay Renji would have killed himself trying to take down As Nodt.

This is where I usually make the point that if Byakuya had died to here, it would have broken Renji into little pieces, but that’s not today’s essay. Instead, everyone goes to the Royal Realm, and by virtue of the fact that Byakuya is injured worse than everyone else, Renji has to go forward without him or his approval.

In typical Renji fashion, the thing that motivates Renji here is not glory or heroism, but the desire to accompany Ichigo, the need to be with his friends in their times of trial. In fact his companionship here is absolutely essential-- at Hikifune’s, Ichigo expresses deep doubts that he’s doing the right thing, and Renji reminds himself that if he wants to protect others, he has to take care of himself first.

At Nimaiya’s however, Renji and Ichigo are split up because they must follow their own paths. The other extremely interesting thing that happens here is that Renji’s sword is reforged. Byakuya shattered one of Hihio Zabimaru’s joints the very first time Renji used them in combat. Renji brushed it off at the time, saying that he could get by without it. Even though Byakuya has long been his motivating force and his mentor, he’s also been held back by his connection to him. And at this point, it’s gone.

I really wish we got to see where Renji and Rukia meet up again, but we don’t. Unlike with Ichigo, though, Rukia doesn’t seem to need anything from Renji. They travel together, fight together as equals, wear matching outfits, like you do. Oh. Wait. After all this time, in the 493 chapters between Needless Emotions and Blue Stripes, Renji can finally see himself as an equal to Rukia. They get. bankai. Together.

I want to emphasize that it’s not really anything about Rukia herself that allowed Renji to make bankai, it’s the fact that he’s finally managed to move past the feeling that he’s not enough. Defeating Byakuya would not actually have solved this problem, and having Byakuya dying in front of him wouldn’t have either. Renji gets criticized for losing a lot of his fights, but that’s such a key to his character. He’s not always the strongest, he doesn’t always win, but he keeps fighting for what he cares about. He struggles with his need for approval, for external validation, but Renji is at his best when he doesn’t have time to think about that, when he’s just fighting by his friends’ sides against impossible odds, doing what he knows in his heart is right.

I think people tend to make a little more than is strictly necessary of the line where he tells Mask that he’s “a villain”, I think he’s most just making fun of Mask’s own self-aggrandizement. On another level, though, this is just Renji being at ease with himself. Byakuya typically enters a fight bloviating about the honor of Soul Society and “how dare you raise your sword against me, the 28th Head of the Kuchiki” and even Ikkaku had the whole deal about telling people your name before you kill them, but Renji is more like “you beat up my friends, so I’m gonna break your face,” like there’s no ego in it, just you’re there, and he’s there, and then you’re lying on the ground and he’s taking a nap somewhere. This is so different than the insecure, posturing young man he was at the start of this series and I love this growth for him.

Even after he eventually meets up with Byakuya again, something has changed about their dynamic. The group gets split up and rejoined two or three times, and Renji and Rukia always stay together while Byakuya ends up fighting alongside others, Hisagi and later Hitsugaya and Zaraki. This is cemented in their last scene together, where Rukia and Renji try to stay with Byakuya and he sends them off to fight with Ichigo by saying “your help is not needed here.” In some ways, it’s an echo of Byakuya sending them off to Hueco Mundo, but in other ways, it’s acknowledging that they are their own people, not just an extension of him.

Hitsugaya follows it up with this:

There’s more here than meets the eye, though-- Byakuya and Renji have maintained a pretty strict superior-subordinate relationship, because that’s the easiest way for them to make sense of the world, but the fact is, they do care about each other and are important to one another.

I know there would be a certain narrative satisfaction in seeing Renji make captain at the end-- he’s one of the hardest working people in Bleach, and it frankly seems weird to see Iba get the haori when he doesn’t. But Renji has never wanted to be a captain. Renji becoming captain would, in some ways, be a failure. He spends years pre-canon chasing rank and prestige because that’s what he thinks will make him worthy, and it didn’t. Instead, he found worth in being himself, in loving his friends and being there for them, in learning things from Byakuya and teaching him things in return. Renji doesn’t need to be Byakuya’s lieutenant anymore, he just does it because he likes it. It makes him happy. What better character development is there than that?

#renji abarai #byakuya kuchiki #tybwa #god i love to get up on a saturday and write essays about renji's character development #tldr: renji checks off all the gotei career milestones *except* making captain and then proceeds to lean in to his true calling: malewife #we stan legends only

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silmarillionwritersguild · 2 years ago

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SWG Site Is Back Online!

The site is back up and live! As is probably evident from the fact that this took FOUR DAYS (I'm not sure the site was down that long when we moved from eFiction to Drupal!), this was a labor-intensive upgrade for us. We updated our software from Drupal 8 to 9, which was itself an important change. However, in doing so, the directory structure changed, which meant that all old links would not work. We were not okay with that. So we attempted to redirect the old links to the new, which to be blunt about it, turned out to be a massive pain in the ass. At multiple points, we discussed restoring the D8 site and going back to the drawing board with redirects (which is now a four-letter word to Russa and me).

I think we are, at last, there. I will be fixing broken links and images in the days to come. If you run into a broken link or image (or anything else that is weird), please let me know. (If you are on our Discord, I am keeping a running list in #town-hall.) If you get an error about "redirects to external URLs are not allowed," please clear your cache.

To make this whole situation even more interesting, our host has been promising for months that we are due a major upgrade, which they have decided to do tonight. So the site will go down again, briefly, sometime in the next day, and we may see even more odd behavior.

Of course, we want you to go back to using the site right away. But we also know we're going to run into problems in the days to come, so now might not be the best time to spend four hours archiving your epic novel with us. Just in case!

Finally, so much gratitude to Russandol, who has been researching and planning this upgrade for weeks and gave up most of her weekend to struggling through it. Again, please reach out to me with any questions and please report any issues to me.

(Posted by @dawnfelagund)

#silmarillion writers guild

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irenedubrovna · 4 years ago

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A post regarding Euphoria for the benefit of myself and basically no one else

So, it really bothers me when people say Euphoria is groundbreaking, progressive media. Here’s a dissection of why I don’t think it is, because this is what I feel like doing at work:

The character of Rue is objectively great. She by far receives the least overt sexualization, and is treated neutrally in terms of active sexuality. She’s treated like a normal teenage girl with mental issues and an addiction to drugs. She falls in love with a girl who she pines for and places on a pedestal. The reason I think she is written this way is because she is a Sam Levinson proxy. She written with gender ambiguity and with little regard to the experiences she’d go through as a black gay female, probably because Sam Levinson has no insight to that aspect of life. Her performance is heightened of course by Zendaya, who breathes unique life to the Sam Levinson’s artistic extension, and without her performance this show would not get even half the acclaim it gets. Attribute that to Zendaya of course, because the director has done little to deserve this acclaim.

The rest of the females, sans Lexi, are pornified to a disgusting extent, not only due to the fact that they are supposed to be underage, but also because their existence as people is treated as being absolutely secondary to their sexual appeal. They are foremost presented in terms of their relation to sex. Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Kat cannot be removed from their sexuality without disrupting the plot or their journeys in relation to the plot. Why are the females so intrinsically linked to uber fetishized versions of female sexuality, or uber fetishized versions of blossoming female sexual identity?

Maddy is presented not only scantily clad 90 percent of the time, but also dressed in a precariously unattainable sexual fashion. At any given time she is styled to look straight out of, simultaneously, a high fashion editorial, and a “barely legal” porno. She is airheaded and profane, and promiscuous, her mannerisms dictated by the adult films she’s “studied” in order to project an image of perfect hyper sexual femininity. She’s complacent in becoming a prototypical housewife because it will earn her a comfortable place as a trophy wife. She has no aspirations beyond that. So, let’s unpack all of that. Maddy’s role in the show is mostly passive. The most active thing she does in the plot is revenge fuck a man in the pool of a party. Nearly everything else she does in the show that is plot relevant is of someone else’s volition. Even less of what she in the show is related to anything other than a man. She is abused and then pressured into framing another man for said abuse. She has no agency as a character. The only notable difference to this rule is when she takes drugs at a carnival, knocks a pot of chili over, and calls her ex’s mom a cunt. Removed from her active sexual life and carefully cultivated aesthetic, she’s a trite stereotype of an unambitious girlfriend who gets treated poorly. I see people call Maddy iconic, but if she wasn’t gorgeous and well dressed, I doubt anyone would even think twice about her, let alone create fancams and Instagram pages dedicated to her. She exists as a plot device, and as pretty set dressing to build up the shows aesthetic. Her emotions are not well explored, her motivations are sexist, and she is often there to be demeaned, objectified, or to say a bad word. The most damning part of her involvement in this show is her episode where it is stated that she, as a fourteen year old girl, lost her virginity to an adult man, and it is stated she was in control of the situation. This is a dangerous thing to say about a character, to any audience, but especially a young one. To imply that a precocious young girl was in control during her first sexual encounter with a much much older man implies things that frankly border on rape apologist ideology. This show states this unflinchingly and with no further elaboration. If there’s one thing that tells you that Euphoria is a bad show, let it be that. Also, if there’s one thing that tells you about Sam Levinson as a person, and the way he views girls and women, let it fucking be that.

Jules is a young trans girl. She also likes to have sex with men as a means to “conquer femininity”. Scratch that, she likes to have degrading sex with older men in order to “conquer femininity”. This mindset is shown to be toxic, of course, but I think the problem with this idea in general is that there’s no deeper exploration for what this mindset means. It implies that she believes women are the sum of their intrigue and degradations. This mindset I can only assume would be a cultivation of dysphoria and internalized misogyny, which this series is absolutely not prepared to address in a tactful manner. Jules is a teenager with mental illness, trauma, and is undergoing an identity crisis. There’s something powerful in her character, something worth saying, however we only get trimmings of those meaningful things, and are ultimately left with a hurtful depiction of a trans girl because all of her musings on womanhood and identity are incomplete, and they fail to reach beyond the surface of their thesis statement. She wears colorful clothing, is overtly feminine and artistic in her presentation. Everything about her screams insecurity over her own womanhood. That is the crux of her character. Now, I think we should ask ourselves, is trans person who is insecure about their identity peak representation? Is this what trans people deserve? Is it “groundbreaking “? If this show was run by someone else, I might be inclined to say that there’s nothing insidious about this, but this is the guy that made Assassination Nation, so I think we know what he thinks of young women, the way they should be portrayed (that is, for the capitulation of a man) and realize his inclusion of a trans woman in his cast is no more meaningful than the inclusion of any other woman. Women to him are made to be categorized and should, at the end of the day, be easily palatable for the capitulation of a man. The device of having Jules being interested in older men and rough sex for identity reasons is transparent. Trans women are exploited and objectified with a similar fervor to cis women, the caveat being that they are “a forbidden fruit” of sorts to straight men. Jules is sissified, her presentation fetishistic. Her role in the plot is more involved. Her relationship with Rue is sweet, though toxic on both sides. She is ultimately betrayed, blackmailed, and snowballs into something of a manic episode, all well portrayed by Hunter Schafer, but I don’t think her inclusion in the show absolves it of any of its many sins.

Let’s talk about Cassie. Cassie is the Eurocentric beauty standard exemplified. She is the blonde haired blue eyed girl next store, and her boobs are of course always on display. She is notably promiscuous, something I say right off the bat because that’s how she’s introduced, as a so called slut through the words of the devil (Nate Jacobs). She is a girl with daddy issues, which we are all familiar with at this point. Her sexual boundaries begin and end at the whim of her partner. The terms of her consent are much like the terms of consent of many young girls brainwashed by society and the rising tide of degradation porn: everything is alright as long as you provide them comfort and affirmation afterward. You can touch them roughly without asking, you can use them as a tool to affirm your masculinity. This is the way men prefer their women now: just broken enough to say yes to anything they want. It’s become a joke at this point. Men like girls with issues, but only the ones that will feed their own desires. Cassie Howard is meek. Her inclusion in the plot I suppose ties to themes of drug addiction and how it divides and destroys the people you love. It doesn’t show what it does to her beyond shaping her sexual encounters, which is no surprise. Overall I’d say Cassie is in this roster of females as the most traditional categorically, in relation to how men view women and further how they sexualize them. She has a relationship with someone who doesn’t really love her. That mostly what she does here. Gets used. Doesn’t drive the plot or conflict much. More pretty set dressing. More aesthetics. How this show consists of so many women but is driven so much by men is unsurprising, and, again, very enlightening in the grand scheme of things.

Lastly we touch on Kat. I’d like to begin with the fact that self actualization through sexual exploration, in a show run by a man, is just a cloak for a woman to gratify the audience with her sexuality. Regardless of whether or not she is plus sized, this is overt objectification. She is on this show to be sexy. Beyond that, the fact that a minor using sex work as a form of liberation is disgusting. Whether or not she is portrayed as “owning” her sexuality is negligible, and speaks to the same mindset discussed with Maddy. Minors cannot fucking consent to sex, sexual acts, or anything within the confines of such. It’s crazy that this occurs with two different characters in such a similar way. It has echoes of “Well, she looked older..” and “Well, she wanted it..” or “She’s advanced for her age”. Never, not once in the events of the series is there meaningful introspection on what doing this kind of thing does to a minor. Moreover, these acts are explicit, and made clearly for sexual gratification. None of these things are absolved by the fact that she’s plus sized. If anything, her body type is fetishized in this context. It’s also another case of a “good girl to bad girl” transformation, which are archaic and, of course, sexist. With the rise of adult websites targeting minors for explicit content, this is even more reprehensible. Once again, in terms of representation, is this really what speaks to you as progressive? Groundbreaking? A girl gains control of her own narrative by having sex with lots of men. She gains control by being sexy. She gains control by dehumanizing and objectifying herself. No she doesn’t. Media controlled by men will tell this story to you thousands of times, don’t listen because she’s bigger than a size four.

ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE UNDERAGE. ALL OF THEM HAVE EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, EVEN THE SEXUAL ASSAULT IS MADE CINEMATICALLY PORNIFIED. THESE SHOTS ARE MADE TO BE OBJECTIVELY SEXY. THIS IS NOT A CASE OF SOMEONE CREATING SOMETHING FOR THE SAKE OF REALISM. IT IS ABOUT MAKING SCENES THAT SPEAK TO A MALE AUDIENCE. THAT CATER TO THE MALE GAZE. ARGUE WITH THE WALL.

I won’t go further into the plot, other characters, or the structure or the episodes for sake of brevity, but I felt compelled to air my thoughts on this to the void. I can only hope I was critical enough that Sam Levinson will one day see this and cry because another bad feminist thinks something that he made sucks

#euphoria #I don’t even think anyone will read this but #it’s just not good #sorry #anti euphoria #anti Sam Levinson

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k-llama-llama · 4 years ago

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Need You

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

Sometimes Jungkook does need a big sister to step in

A/N: sorry this is so late! Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.

Requests are OPEN.Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“What the hell is going on?” Sumi asked, coming to stand next to Hobi.

He just shrugged, pointing at the monitor. “I don’t know. The staff have been off all day and they’re screwing up Jungkook’s rehearsal now.”

Sumi studied the monitor. It was their run-through for their online concert tomorrow, and they were supposed to working through all of the kinks so that it would run perfectly. However, the staff had been all over the place. The sound was off, they were playing the wrong tracks at times, the lighting wasn’t working and they kept having to reset, and altogether they didn’t seem to have any idea what they were doing.

Sumi’s own solo rehearsal had been interrupted as the camera crew had to keep resetting to figure out their path for following her on stage. Normally she would have expressed her concern about it, but she knew that Namjoon had been speaking to their managers all day. This was their first concert in far too long, so she decided to just let the kinks work themselves out.

Jungkook’s solo stage involved some intense choreography, and it looked like he was dealing with a few distinct problems. The first was the same as Sumi’s issue from earlier: the camera crew getting way too close during the dance, stepping into the path of the choreography and just generally getting in the way.

The second had to do with the floor. The changing sets had to be built to be set up and broken down very quickly, and Jungkook’s involved a mirrored floor. However, it didn’t look like it was well secured to the stage and was shifting beneath him, throwing his moves off balance.

“What is wrong with them?” Sumi shook her head. “Is this a new crew?”

Hobi pursed his lips and nodded. “The tech crew is. Supposedly they’re more qualified for this whole online format.”

Sumi snorted. “Sure they are.”

Jungkook’s set finished, and he walked right over the stage director, an angry look in his eye.

“Where’s Joon?” Sumi asked.

“Makeup, I think.”

Sumi sighed. “Then I guess that’s on me.”

She walked out from back stage, heading towards where Jungkook was being mopped off by a staff member as he exchanged heated words with the stage director, who was gesturing angrily around him.

She was back on friendly terms with Jungkook, but there was absolutely still a wall between them that hadn’t been there before. She’d done her best to avoid any situations that involved confrontation, emotion, or anything else that could cause another argument. To be completely honest, even though they’d mostly worked through it, she still didn’t know where she stood with him. It was hard to throw away so many years of her constantly being involved in his life. Whether it was healthy for them to have some separation or not, it was still strange.

“It’s dangerous!” Jungkook was saying. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“You were aware of the set up, you should have been more prepared for it.” The stage director argued.

“What seems to be the problem, boys?” Sumi pulled her pink fluffy sweater closer around her shoulders as she stepped up to the confrontation.

Jungkook looked away from the director, and she could see from how he clenched his jaw just how angry he was.

“Nothing.” The stage director said. “We’re moving onto the next rehearsal.”

“Someone is going to get hurt!” Jungkook was close to shouting. “If your crew keeps getting in the way and the stage is screwed up, we’re going to-“

“Let me run that, and you focus on dancing, okay?” The director said condescendingly, clearly trying to dismiss them.

“Hold on.” Sumi held up a hand to stop him from moving away. “We’re the one’s who are responsible if us or our dancers get hurt.”

“Then try not to fall.” The director leaned down to speak right into her face.

Sumi scoffed, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“You should get back to hair and makeup, I think you’re going to need a lot of work.” The director smirked.

“Yah.” Jungkook stepped forward. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook.” Sumi tilted her head. “This idiot just hasn’t realized that we control his paycheck yet.”

“Idols don’t control my paycheck. I work for your company, not for you.” The director shook his head. “Don’t get arrogant.”

“No, you try not to get arrogant. The company controls your paycheck? How much of that company do you think we own? If you want to play that game, go ahead. Maybe this show sucks because you’re too lazy to figure out your job, but all we have to do is say the word and you’ll never get hired for a major event again.” She gave him a smirk of her own.

“I…you…” He sputtered.

“Got it?” Sumi smiled. “Good. Now, you might want to think about taking my groupmate’s concerns a little more seriously.”

“You…”

Sumi glanced at Jungkook and winked. “Shout if you need me. I’ll be eating noodles.”

Jungkook just gave her a knowing smile, before crossing his arms and turning back to the director.

Thirty minutes later, Jungkook found Sumi in a rolling chair, legs up on a table and bowl of noodles in her hands.

“Noona.” He said in greeting.

“Kookie.” She lifted her chopsticks. “Rehearsal over?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the table, looking down at her as she took a bite of noodles.

“Problem solved?” She asked, her mouth full.

“Like clockwork. I think he’s going to have nightmares about you.” He grinned.

“I love that.” She laughed. “It’s for the best, anyways. If you got hurt because of his idiocy I’d have to beat the-“

“Noona?”

“Right. This is the new, chill Sumi.” She giggled. “Hungry?”

“Just a bite.” He leaned down, opening his mouth as she lifted the chopsticks. She blew on the noodles to cool them down before he took a bite.

He chewed for a few seconds, leaving the two of them in silence as she took her own bite.

“You still do that.” He said quietly.

“Do what? Eat noodles?” She wiped some broth off her face.

“No,” He laughed. “Blow on my food if you think it’s too hot.”

Sumi froze, lowing the bowl back to her lap. “Sorry. I don’t mean to.”

“Don’t mean to what?”

“To be all…weird. I’m not your mom.”

“No, you’re not.” Jungkook nudged her leg with his hand. “But I don’t think you’re ever going to stop being my big sister.”

“I thought you hated it.” Her eyes widened.

“I hated when you treated me like a child. I’m okay with this.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled, the same smile he’d given her every single time she handed him a school lunch, or tied his tie, or fixed his hair before a performance. “Sometimes I need my noona, and sometimes I need to deal with things for myself. I think we’re both getting better at realizing when.”

“I think so too.” Sumi smiled. “So…you don’t want me to beat up the director?”

“Not until after the performance.” He winked.

“Yes, sir.” She collected more noodles and held them up to him. “Eat up, you’re getting too skinny.”

“Kay.”

#bts #bts au #bts imagines #bts 8th member #female kpop #female!kpop #female member kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop imagine

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thedistantdusk · 3 years ago

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Arcadia, Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who followed along! Things are heating up with this chapter! Most of the referenced triggers from chapter 1 apply in this chapter specifically. Here's the link to chapter 2, if you're just seeing this now :)

Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @remedialpotions, @jamezbot, @jenoramaca, @not-steve42, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey... god, I'm forgetting people, and I'm sorry! But you're all amazing <3

___________________________

D A Y + T H R E E

As fate would have it, Ginny wakes before 0-700.

Not that she sleeps.

Nightmares, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced in years, torment her throughout the night. They leave her scared. Miserable. Guilty. Around 3 AM, she finally reaches for her Dreamless Sleep potion with shaking hands. For more reasons than one, she’s pleased that Harry’s slept on the couch.

She knows now just how stupid this entire mission truly was. The longer she analyzes it, the more she accepts that her bloody pride got her here in the first place. A chance for a promotion, however small, gave her false confidence in her ability to disregard a decade of sexual tension, all while trapped in close quarters with the person she wants the most.

She hopes Harry makes himself sparse today, though she knows that sounds cruel. But the longer they spend together, the clearer it becomes they’re on the cusp of something… and not something that would look good on a performance review. He’s been kind and understanding so far, even when she’s fucked things up. She just hopes she can ignore the most human parts of herself until they’ve dealt with this.

So at half-past 8, Ginny — Jenny — emerges from the house in a bright floral sundress and nude pumps. Were it not for the secret weapon clutched in her right fist, she might have fit in quite well... but Jenny has no intention of fitting in. Not anymore. In three confident strides, she marches across the front lawn, bends down, and spears the prongs of a lurid pink flamingo into the grass.

Yes.

She grins and takes in her work. How ghastly against the backdrop of earth tones! How repugnant!

Ginny steals quick glimpses over each shoulder, only to be met with the eerie, blanketed silence that’s defined Arcadia since their arrival. No activity at all. Which means she’ll have no issue with the next bit…

She strides to the mailbox at the end of their driveway and gives it a sharp kick. The post slides out of alignment, leaving it askew. Perfect. She returns to the house with a bounce in her step. Living with the twins taught her a thing or two about how to infuriate complete strangers.

She just hopes it’ll be enough.

___________________________

As luck would have it, it is enough. Her efforts receive reward more quickly than she thought— more quickly than she’s been conditioned to expect.

Scarcely an hour passes before she finds the warning she needs. And to be honest, it could’ve been there sooner; she just figured she’d give it that long before she checked.

Still, it’s not even 10 AM when she opens the door and sees it on their welcome mat: a folded paper with Pee-tri scrolled on the front. She can’t help but admire the sheer cheek as she unfolds it; this is the closest they’ll get to a public call-out for the way Harry insists on correcting everyone’s pronunciation. The message inside doesn’t surprise her, either.

Be like the others before dark. Or else.

Ginny glimpses out at the lawn, just to confirm— and yes. Sure enough. Just as she’d suspected, the flamingo's gone. The mailbox is straight. Everything’s back to normal.

She kicks the door closed with a smirk and wonders if they’re aware of how easily they’ve exposed themselves. How—

“What’ve you got there?” Harry calls from the sofa in the living room. He looks up from his laptop with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes. A wave of guilt washes through her; that sofa clearly didn’t get more comfortable overnight. Not that he would’ve accepted the alternative.

“Erm. A letter.” She waves in front of her and walks into the living room. “I’ve done a great job annoying them!”

He offers a gentle smile. “Any chance you’ll let me know who this ‘them’ is that you’re so worried about?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and settles on the other end of the couch. “You know I can’t—”

“Talk about your work,” Harry finishes, turning back to his computer. “Right.”

“Mm. Not exactly that I can’t… talk about my work,” she ventures, putting her feet up on the white ottoman. “More like I can’t give information until it’s essential knowledge for all parties involved. Based on criteria that I also can’t share.”

“Sounds like a fun job,” Harry deadpans, still looking at the computer. “But anyway, if I were to suggest something like… I don’t know…” He casually tilts the screen in her direction. “The fact that Oliver Skinner definitely has a criminal record, and maybe that’s worth looking into. You couldn’t confirm or deny that?”

Ginny just shrugs. “That’s correct. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His theory is wrong, of course. Dead wrong.

They wouldn’t have sent an Unspeakable and an Auror into the country if this were a simple Muggle murderer. Harry would be able to suss this out, she reckons, if he had more sleep. Poor bloke.

He groans and cracks his back. “I’m starting to understand why King’s always so frustrated.”

“Probably because he has to deal with you all the time,” Ginny quips, reaching for a magazine on the floor. Ugh. Of course, it’s only the TV guide, Radio Times. They don’t even have a TV, but it came with the Daily Mail on Sunday.

Harry reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table. “Fine,” he relents, in between sips. “I’ll stay in my lane. But if I get bored, I’ll get tetchy.” He gestures to the computer. “And since they’ve given us this laptop, I’ve had time to do a bit of—”

“They’ve given me a laptop,” Ginny corrects, arching a brow. “As you’re well aware, Auror Potter, that is technically the property of the DoM.” She returns to the guide with a shrug. “I just don’t care if you use it, mostly because I don’t expect you’ll be looking up tits all day.”

He chokes on his water; Ginny just laughs and turns the page. Ooh, lovely! Eurovision looks particularly flamboyant this year…

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says, once he recovers. “I’d never look up tits on government property!” He looks affronted as he hands over the laptop, but she knows he’s not done... not when he’s set that up so perfectly. Annnnd sure enough…

“You of all people should know I'm an arse-man, Ginny.”

Now it’s her turn for an unattractive snort as he winks over his shoulder and marches upstairs.

When he’s gone, Ginny rolls her eyes and opens her laptop. He’s an incredible liar on the arse-man front, but it was a good joke. A simple joke…. one that didn’t deserve looking into.

It’s just unfortunate that can’t stop these stupid fucking butterflies from erupting in her stomach like she’s ten years old again.

___________________________

He launches into the air again, the gardens of his neighbors spanning out in front of him. Each perfectly manicured. Each disturbing in its performative precision. None of this is real; none of this is life.

He pulled out the trampoline after dinner, when Ginny okayed it. He’s not used to that— checking before he does things. This whole exercise has been a great reminder that his teamwork skills are rusty, especially when he’s in a subordinate role. Ron left after their first year to work in the magic shop instead, which only made sense after… yeah. Harry draws a deep breath and jumps again. Ron and Hermione haven’t been problem-solving in his head for ages. There’s been no one to share the burden of choices or—

“OI!” Oliver’s voice thunders across the garden.

Harry smiles and takes another huge leap into the air. Just in time…

He rips open the fence door and stomps over, hands balled into fists. Harry’s never seen anyone look quite so furious while dressed in cashmere. And standing beside a trampoline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you trying to make enemies, Henry? Is this entire estate a bloody joke to you?”

“Of course not!” Harry lands on his bum before he jumps up again. “This is very serious!”

“Oliver!” Sharon wails, hurrying over. “Oliver. Please! This really—”

“Keep your nose where it belongs, woman,” Oliver snarls, looking at her like she’s scum on his shoe. “No one wants your opinion!”

Sharon flinches… and this, more than anything else, gets Harry’s back up. “No need to take it out on her!” he snaps, climbing down from the trampoline. “Talk to me if you’ve got a problem, Ollie. Why not—”

But just as Harry’s feet touch the grass, something very weird happens: A dull buzzing fills his ears. Sharon and Oliver hear it too, but unlike Harry, they aren’t looking around in bewildered confusion. In a flash, the rage on Oliver’s face transforms into something much different: fear. And as the pressure grows, Harry can only watch as Oliver grabs Sharon’s hand, yanking her from the garden, when—

An unmistakable sound replaces the buzzing. A large piece of glass from somewhere in the front of the house shatters on the pavement. And with that, the buzzing stops.

Birds chirp again. Someone laughs in the distance. Harry jabs a finger in his ear, trying to clear it, but it seems Oliver’s returned to his furious state. He lunges towards Harry, a vein ticking in his neck, his hands outstretched as if to push him over— but Harry doesn’t have time for this. He’s already running around him, bolting towards the source of the sound, his hand inching for his pocket…

Because whatever they’ve got going on isn’t related to Oliver, is it? No… definitely not. That buzzing was too creepy to be muggle. Harry hadn’t really been convinced of the Oliver theory in the first place, even if the wanker has a criminal record for drunk driving. He mostly suggested it to Ginny to see if she’d give him any information.

Harry spots the broken glass the second he reaches the pavement. The lamppost right outside their house has shattered, light bulb and all. Bits of glass sparkle on the street, but the lamppost is at least 10 feet high. Harry scans around for signs of a ladder, or some form of a projectile… any method someone might’ve used to— oh! A baseball rolls around in one of the open garages across the street. He’s about to march over and collect it when his conscience stops him.

Because that’s the definition of circumstantial evidence, isn’t it? Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. Snatching the baseball while working alone is one thing, but it’s not worth risking Ginny’s job. Especially because he reckons these thoroughly unmemorable homes are each equipped with monitoring systems. At absolute best, that would be… awkward to explain to the muggle police, especially without an obvious connection between the ball and the shattered lamppost...

Harry’s just about to turn back inside and write it off a freak occurrence when—

Shit.

His breath freezes in his throat.

What the...

He blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it, but no...

There’s no weird buzzing this time… but something else is happening instead. The grass on the far side of their yard is bulging and curling, right in front of his eyes. The soil creaks as this… this mass — a huge sphere of some sort — passes through; bits of dirt fly into the air before settling back.

Harry’s veins turn to ice, his stomach churning. Work has introduced him to new, vile varieties of ghouls and nasties. He’s been bitten by a leprechaun. Stalked by a vampire. He’s encountered every disturbing otherworldly menace that one could imagine.

But he’s never seen anything like this.

His only solace is that it’s headed towards Mike’s empty house… this massive, rolling boulder that travels beneath the soil. ‘Boulder’ isn’t exactly the right term, though; he’s never seen a boulder move with a slinking, predatory grace. He’s never gotten gooseflesh from a rock, no matter how large.

And try as he might, he can only stand there, wide-eyed, his heart racing. Because now he knows for sure what Ginny only alluded to before: whatever they’re chasing isn’t human.

And it’s aware of them.

___________________________

The door creaks open less than five minutes after the glass shatters, but Ginny’s prepared.

She’s standing in the alcove just off the entryway, wand in one hand, fire poker in the other. It’s probably not the best strategy she’s ever had— but she reckons that if a Muggle were to catch sight of an altercation, it would be an easy memory supplantation. Wands and fire pokers don’t look that dissimilar, and—

“Ginny?” Harry calls. Directly into her ear.

Shit! She jumps into the air, the poker clattering to the ground.

“When did you learn to move like a cat?” she demands, turning to face him. “You nearly—”

“We need to talk,” he says brusquely. It’s only then that she takes in his wide, haunted eyes. His white pallor. The way he hasn’t even commented on the ridiculousness of her fire poker.

Oh.

He’s scared.

Scared in a way she hasn’t seen him in ages. Maybe ever. Which means he heard…? Shit. She’d might as well ask.

“What do you erm…” She toys with her wand handle. “Want to talk about?”

Harry heaves a tired sigh. “I’m only going to ask you this once,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then he blinks up at her, his eyes pulsing and stern. “What the fuck was that?”

“The… shattered lamppost?” she hedges. “I’ve no idea. I just—”

Apparently, that was the wrong response.

Harry groans. “You know damn well I don’t mean the bloody lamppost!” he snarls. “I mean that… that thing! First the weird buzzing, then whatever moved through the grass! It was like some creepy worm, or—”

“—not a worm,” she amends, staring at her cuticles.

This, too, was the wrong reply; she’s never seen him go from bewildered to enraged quite so fast.

Harry lets out a furious roar and kicks at an empty box. “This is why Unspeakables are so fucking annoying!” he shouts, tossing his hands in the air. “You never fucking say anything — even if it might help someone!”

Pfft! He can do better than that...

“Not sure what you expected,” she deadpans. “Would it help if I were a Speakable instead?”

Harry rolls his eyes and throws himself on the couch. Ginny just leans against the door… and waits. She can’t say she blames him for being angry. It’s probably made him feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t in ages.

“The least you can bloody do,” Harry says, cutting into her thoughts, “is to let me know how to kill it.” He glimpses up at her, his chest still heaving. “Because if anything happened to you….” His hand curls around his wand, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “We both know I’d never forgive myself.”

Fuck.

Her heart clenches; as embarrassing as it is, tears sting the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that… but it makes perfect sense. He’s not angry because he’s vulnerable; he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to protect her.

Because he’s Harry.

Her Harry.

And try as she might, she can’t deny that. He’s hers… even though now he’s broken and angry and scared and alone. Which is probably why she loves the fucking fuck out of him.

No.

She stops herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Mission. Mission. They’re on a mission.

Right. She clears her throat and steps forward, two papers clutched in her hand.

“What’s that?” Harry grumbles as she hands them over. He scans the pages, brow furrowing. “Sugar… engine oil. Red Dye 40. What am I supposed to do with—?”

Ginny smiles and tries to make this easy. “It’s the report from the necklace. The thing that was on Mike’s medallion… it’s rubbish. Not blood, not some ghost slime. It’s just a weird mixture of types of rubbish.”

She should’ve figured he wouldn’t find this significant.

“What a brilliant scientific discovery.” Harry tosses the paper to the side. “Hermione would be thrilled.”

Ginny gnaws at her cheek, choosing her words carefully… but if he’s already seen it, if he’s already heard it, surely there’s no harm...

Harry rises to his feet and takes a step closer until he’s towering over her, all warm and brooding. They aren’t touching… not exactly. He’s just hovering close enough to give her strength, whether he knows it or not. When she finally gets the nerve to look up at him, his green eyes are swirling with more pain than rage. Truth be told, she prefers the rage. “I deserve to know,” he says thickly, like he’s suppressing something in his throat, “what the fuck is going on.”

Ginny breaks their eye contact. Some of this she hasn’t even shared with Attica yet. She’s violating about a million protocols by telling Harry first, but if they’re together on a mission…

“It’s… not what we thought. Not what I thought,” she admits softly, after a moment. “We came out here under the assumption of chasing something from the Thought Chamber. Something that erm… may have escaped. During a routine experiment.”

He’s not impressed, though. “Yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I gathered all of that from your intro with the camera, thanks. Do you ever plan on telling me anything new?” He jerks his chin towards the window. “Because you’ve sure as hell never mentioned Evil Grass Monster Experiment #6, and that may have been helpful to fucking know before I saw it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

His attitude is more infuriating than his actual words, but she lacks the patience for dealing with either. The bloody nerve, to act all impatient with information that’s kept secret for a reason...

“I don’t have to tell you shit, actually,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And in case you’re unaware, I can protect myself.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, but this one is cruel. Dark. The sort she’s never heard from him before. “Makes sense,” he says with a fake grin. Then he taps her on the nose. “Because when that thing outside inevitably kills someone else, we all know how well you’ll manage the guilt.”

Ouch.

She reels back, stung. He’s got to know that’s a low blow. Younger Ginny would have Bat Bogeyed him into oblivion, but she’s better now. She’s changed.

At least that’s what she tells herself as she glares at him, her hands fisted so tightly they turn white. “Say what you mean,” she manages several moments later, when rage isn’t clawing at her chest. “If you’d like to rehash our breakup, Auror Potter, I’m all ears!” She gives her best impression of an icy smirk. “This isn’t exactly professional… but then again, when have you ever been?”

Harry looks like he’s going to respond, but a loud vibration starts in his back pocket. “Fuck!” Now it’s his turn to leap into the air before he realizes it’s just his wand. And really, she’s tempted to laugh— but the look on his face helps her put the pieces together.

Because if his wand’s vibrating, that means it’s an emergency; only department heads can summon their employees like that. They’re the only ones with access to that sort of technology, not that she’s really interested either way.

“It’s King,” he mutters. She’s about to get on him for stating the obvious, but when he peers at her again, his face is filled with such timid yearning that she can only see the 11-year-old boy on the train platform. “Can I…erm. Use your mobile?”

Fine. Ginny nods towards the bedroom, her head still spinning. She’s still a bit angry with him, but he’s so fucking broken. They both are. And besides, they’ve got bigger problems. What could possibly have King so worried that he’d call Harry from a mission? The man is unflappable.

Harry returns a minute later, his face stony, jaw set. In another life, she might’ve seen the bulge in his pocket and asked if that’s just her mobile, or if he’s happy to see her.

Instead, she tucks her hair behind her ears like the seasoned professional she is. “There’s no reception inside,” she points out. “I’ve had luck calling Attica from up the street, right at the corner. Just watch out for…”

Harry smirks. “Grass monsters?”

Ginny draws a breath to consider her options. She could keep him in the dark forever, but isn’t that the whole point of this assignment? To learn? It’s time for the truth, she reckons...

“It’s erm. It’s called a tulpa, actually.”

His eyes light up at this. “A tulpa?”

Ginny shifts her weight and searches for the right words. “It’s a… it’s sort of like an evil imaginary friend, created by a group of people to do their bidding,” she explains, reaching for the discarded papers. “They come from the material of whatever’s underground. I’ve only heard of creatures made from clay or water, but since this village was built on a rubbish tip”— she flicks the papers with her fingers— “that’s our guy!”

She can almost see the gears spinning in Harry’s head as he studies the far wall. “So…” he says slowly, still peering off, “it’s basically an evil dump monster, made of rubbish, that can murder people.”

A laugh slips past her lips. It sounds a bit dumb when he puts it that way. She clears her throat and continues. “I was wrong because it’s not something that’s escaped, more like something that’s—”

“Formed,” Harry finishes quickly. For the first time all week, he sounds intrigued. Like he’s happy to be here. “So… they’ve made it to keep order, then?”

“It would seem so.” She shrugs. “I… honestly don’t know. But between the weird buzzing and the rubbish, it’s the closest match we’ve got. According to the system database, anyway.”

There’s another pause as Harry mulls this over. “So, how do we get rid of it, then?”

How fucked up is it that her heart warms at the way he says ‘we’?

Ginny brushes that aside. “Considering the mask in Gogolak’s house and the way they’ve made a point to tell us he’s in charge, I’d say he’s the one we need to get rid of.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t object.

“Or at least… knock him totally unconscious,” she adds, swallowing; Gogolak’s a wanker, but she’d rather not kill him, either. “Beyond just being asleep. Because he sleeps at night, but the tulpa’s still here, which means he needs to be down for the count. Comatose, even.”

Harry’s wand buzzes again. Ah, shit; in all the hubbub, she’d forgotten about that.

Concern floods Harry’s face. “Give me five minutes.” He blinks. “Ok?”

She waves towards the door. “Duty calls.”

He gives her a weak smile and turns away; she begins the trek upstairs to send Attica an email update.

“Ginny?”

She stops to look down at him. Harry’s paused, halfway out the door. “Thank you,” he says softly, meeting her eyes. “And… I’m sorry. For everything. Ok? I’ll always, erm…”

But she can’t right now. She actually fucking can’t.

“Later,” she whispers, nearly begging. “Please. Let’s do this later.”

Because of course she loves him.

She’s always fucking loved him, even though that’s changed forms. It’s shifted. It’s evolved. He feels the same way… she knows he’s bloody feels the same way. She just doesn’t have the resources to deal with whatever this fuck is reigniting, right in front of her eyes, as the tulpa dances in the back of her head.

Luckily, he understands. Harry just swallows again, nods at her, and heads out into the night.

___________________________

As it would turn out, he was wrong about the identity of the summoner.

“Great news!” Hermione announces on the other end of the mobile. “MLE found Yaxley. He was hiding in a cave in Romania, just like you said.”

Harry snorts; he wishes that gave him more pride. “Well, if you’d listened to me months ago, then—”

“The important part is that we have him,” Hermione says, cutting across. “We need you back ASAP to prep for witness questioning. You’ll take the stand, of course. The trial’s set to start next week!”

He can practically hear her bouncing with excitement. Very little brings her more joy than trials of former Death Eaters.

“Erm… about that.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “We’re actually right on the cusp of something here. I’m gonna need a couple more days to wrap things up.”

“Really?” Hermione sounds surprised. “Kingsley and Robards said you’d be pleased. Said you found this mission as useless as they did.”

Fuck, he was such an arse.

“Well, things… changed,” he offers lamely. “It’s going really well. This mission is so important to her. I’d just hate to leave at the last minute.”

“Ohhh?” Hermione draws out the word in a way that suggests she finds herself quite clever. Even before she asks, he knows what she’s on about. “How’s it going with Ginny, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Her coy prodding is obvious, even over the phone.

“As I already said, it’s going well,” he replies flatly. “We’re a great team. Always have been.”

But she can’t let him have that one, can she?

“Well… not always,” Hermione allows. “After Percy—”

Harry groans. For fuck’s sake, what’s her obsession with stating the obvious? “Yeah, well,” he retorts, “I’d like to know who you think did well after that, especially since…”

He trails off with a sigh.

Especially since what, exactly?

He toys with the fraying ends of his hoodie string.

Especially since Ginny was the last to speak with Percy? That she still carries the weight of the guilt for what she said that night? That she’s never admitted it, but that he suspects her choice to become an Unspeakable was influenced by the things she wishes she could un-say?

Harry makes a face. That’s corny as fuck, isn’t it? What a thing to pull from his arse...

Hermione interrupts his thoughts for a bit of bragging. “Well, Ron and I have done just fine.”

He can almost imagine her staring at her engagement ring in dreamy affection. The mental image makes his reply sound more bitter than he intends.

“Well,” Harry snaps, “Ron wasn’t the last person to speak with Percy. So I’m not sure how you could compare the two, really.”

Shit.

The silence on the other end tells him he needs to apologize, even if it’s true. Fortunately, Hermione gives him an easy out. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “I’ll give you until tomorrow night, but we really need you the following day. If you haven’t settled this, we’re swapping you out. Got it?”

Harry sighs. He’s exhausted, but this couldn’t possibly take much longer. Ginny’s more or less got the proof she needs now. They just need to confront Gogolak, knock him out, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry cranes his neck towards the source of the noise. Huh… weird. Far up the street, flashing lights tip him off. That’s definitely Oliver’s Audi, the one parked in the driveway directly beside theirs. It’s in utopia blue with a metallic finish, a detail Oliver probably mentioned at least fifty times the other night. Then, while Sharon and Ginny were out walking the dog, Oliver began a mind-numbing lecture on the car’s exact miles per liter. Harry was a bit drunk, which is probably why he interrupted to ask a much more important maths question: How many blow jobs per week is too many, exactly?

Even from a distance, Harry can tell that Oliver’s nearly the same shade of murderous red now; he storms from the house and turns off the alarm with his key fob. But then he pauses, glancing around like something’s spooked him. He must decide it’s not that significant, though, because he huffs back inside soon enough. Fucking wanker...

“....Harry?”

“Sorry!” Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, that works. See you then, Hermione.”

“Can’t wait!” she trills. He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smug and grinning.

___________________________

Two minutes after Harry leaves, Ginny feels it again: that same sensation she experienced while walking Captain Bone.

She’s sitting at her laptop when it starts… this deeply unsettling shift. It stands the hair up on the back of her neck. She rushes to the window on instinct, but just like before, everything outside looks the same. There’s no “moving grass monster,” as Harry called it. Not yet, at least.

Still, she can’t deny it’s growing louder. Getting stronger. And now that she’s felt it for a bit longer, she can put more words to it. It’s like she’s plummeting through the absence of sound; like all the wind’s been sucked from the air. It’s a building pressure, a mounting unease, and before she knows it, her whole body starts to shake.

Then two things happen in quick succession: that weird feeling stops, and a car alarm begins to blare in the distance.

Weird.

She shudders. This whole thing is so fucking weird. Weird is her job, and this place is still Very Fucking Weird. Seriously, who enjoys living here? She’s reaching for her wand, just in case, when the front door slams open.

In retrospect, it’s a blessing she knows Harry as well as she does… because she can tell that those heavy, clobbering footsteps don’t belong to him. She knows he’s not the one drawing deep, ragged breaths as he marches up the stairs.

She hides around the corner of the bedroom, her heart racing, and goes through a mental list of spells she might use. Shield charms. Enchantments. The buzzing’s stopped, so this probably isn’t the tulpa… but who else would be here? Gogolak? It sounds more human than—

“Jenny?” a deep, soothing voice asks. “Are you in here?”

Her breath freezes in her throat. She’s only heard that voice once before… but it’s so similar to her former life that she identifies it at once.

“Mike?” A wave of relief washes through her. She shoves her wand into her dress as she comes around the corner. Sure enough, there he is, in the flesh. Mike Snodgrass. A man she presumed dead days ago.

“Hi!” Mike pants. He cracks a smile. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but.” He winces, wiping a palm on his ripped khakis. “Been hiding!” Fuck. His whole outfit (yellow Polo, khakis) is the same he wore days ago to unload their boxes, except now it’s filthy. Stained. Like he’s been living beneath cars and inside drains. He’s just missing his Saint Julian medallion, which she’s sent to the Ministry.

Ginny feels sick. She wrote him off as dead so carelessly...

“I’ve been trying to take it down,” he adds earnestly, peering at her. His cheeks are caked in something red and grimy, the same stuff she stuffed into her bra. He’s been tailing the tulpa, she realizes, her stomach plummeting…

Except he’s got no clue what he’s doing.

“I was about to leave the development, to just run away, but that’s when I figured out it was coming for you two!” He shudders, closing his eyes. It feels like he’s been waiting a long, long time to say this. “And I’ve been aimless without Jess in the first place. So what was the point in leaving, really, if I could save…?”

He trails off, clearing his throat; when he looks up at her again, there’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve been leaving clues, though! Why didn’t you listen?”

“Clues?” Ginny sounds like she’s a million miles away.

Mike’s nearly pleading now. “You had to go and kick the mailbox and stick the flamingo in the grass, didn’t you?” He raises his pointer finger. “And even though I left you a note, you had to make it even worse! It only attacks when the sun goes down, see.”

“You… you left the note?” she whispers. She was so certain that it was from Gogolak...

But Mike proceeds in such a rush it’s clear he hasn’t heard her. “It was about to get Henry by the trampoline, so I threw the baseball as a diversion. I broke the lamppost, too— which worked. For a second,” he adds hastily, glancing over his shoulder.

“How did you also set off the car alarm— oh.” Her head’s still spinning. “Buddy system. Right.”

Mike dangles a keyfob. “Covenant rules. Stole the spare off Jane.” He glances into the hall again before whipping back to face her. “It’ll need a sacrifice tonight, though,” he adds grimly. “And every night, until you all have perfect behavior. It was coming for you earlier, see. We aren’t meant to be outdoors after dark without a permit for dog-walking, so.” He shrugs. “If there’s an unapproved disruption like a car alarm, it knows just where to hunt.”

It’s then that the final pieces of this dreadful puzzle slide together in her brain. “Captain Bone,” Ginny breathes; she swears a feather could knock her over. “He was the first since we arrived. Punishment for us sticking out.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Mike laments. “It came up and snatched him. So I threw in my medallion, right after his collar, just to make them think I was already gone.”

“That’s… that was brilliant,” she admits, biting her lip. “Thank you. You didn’t have—”

“Nah,” he says firmly. “I did. For starters, you remind me so much of…” He stops mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face.

For a second, she thinks he’s being sentimental, but then she feels it too.

Shit.

The hairs on her arm stand up. It’s back… that weird way she felt before. Like the air’s sucked from the room. That creeping, clawing silence. This time, though, it only gets louder, louder, louder, until she’s throwing her hands over her ears, all hope of self-defense forgotten.

But Mike knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. She doesn’t have the chance to object or get her wand before he’s ripping open the closet door and throwing her inside. Ginny opens her mouth in a startled cry, but it’s like she’s screaming underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Mike slams the door closed with her inside and stomps to the center of the room— but now the thundering, roaring wind is causing her physical pain… it’s so loud now that it reverberates in her chest, so loud that her hands shake as she reaches for her wand at long last, but fuck fuck fuck, it’s too late…

It’s too fucking late.

Because Mike’s made a choice. One he can’t take back. He just stands in the middle of the room, puffing out his chest, offering himself as the proud sacrifice, even as the noise grows so loud that Ginny screams her throat raw.

She feels it enter the bedroom, this looming, shifting mass— but by then, she’s certain her ears are bleeding, her eardrums bursting. Her whole body rattles and shakes as she peers through the slats in the closet door, but she’s frozen. Stuck. Miserable. She couldn’t cast a spell if she tried… even as the tulpa oozes into the room, lunges itself back, and swallows Mike with a sickening squelch.

Even though the slats of the door, Ginny’s sprayed with blood. Covered. And she’s dizzy now… so dizzy. A drop of blood trickles into her eye; she reaches up to wipe it from her face, and it’s only then that she hears her own screams again. They reverberate through the small space, anguished and pleading, so loud that she’s certain someone up the street could hear, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking care. She just screams over and over and over, her nails clawing at the walls, until the world slips away into darkness.

___________________________

Blood.

It’s the first thing he smells as he charges up the steps. His chest squeezes, his eyes water, his head pounds over and over again with one word: No.

No. No. No.

Not Ginny. It can’t be.

But almost as soon as he smells the blood, he hears her screaming, and yes! His heart soars. Screaming is good; screaming means she’s alive and breathing and—

Fuck.

His dinner rises in his throat as he steps into the bedroom. He smelled the blood from the steps, he hadn’t expected… this much. It always takes him aback, exactly how much blood is in one human body, and he’s certainly never seen it sprayed, all over the floor… covering the walls. Covering the closet, even, where Ginny’s still screaming.

He flings open the door, thinking he’s prepared for what he might see. Somehow, though, none of that measures up. Because he’s dealt with tears in his line of work… but he’s never, ever seen her so broken. His chest clenches when he takes her in. Her perfect suburban dress — the yellow floral one, the one he liked so much— is now red and grimy, caked in blood, as Ginny rocks back and forth on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

Blood’s covering her face, too, and her arms. Dried trails of it have crusted around her eyes, like she’s fallen asleep wiping them away… or perhaps lost consciousness. The thought is too terrible to bear. He kicks the door open completely and brings her into his arms in one fell swoop.

She melts against him, her voice raw and broken. “H-Harry!” she manages. “P-please! I need-I need!” She begins to shake, pressing her face to his chest.

“A shower,” he says firmly, stepping into the en-suite. “You… you just need a shower. Ok? And maybe some calming draught, I’ve got some in my luggage, and—”

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and filled with horror. “Don’t… don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Harry, please!”

“I… ok,” he allows, carrying her to his luggage to retrieve the bottle. She clings to his neck as he reaches for it, but she weighs next to nothing. Fuck, she’s so thin… he’d just been too busy eyeing her up to realize exactly how thin. What a complete wanker.

It’s not difficult to unzip the suitcase with one hand and pass her the bottle. “Take this,” he urges, thrusting it into her hands. “Please, Ginny. You’ll feel—”

She’s already downed it before he gets to the end of the sentence. She tips her head back, drawing air into her lungs. “Thanks.” Her voice is still hoarse. Ragged.

“Shower, then,” he murmurs, walking her into the bathroom. He feels her start to relax against him, her body growing looser, as he opens the curtain and turns on the tap.

“Thanks,” she whispers again, her head tucked beneath his chin. His fingers itch with restraint; he’d do anything, he thinks, to hold her against him. To press a kiss to her temple. To tell her he loves her and that she’s beautiful and perfect and he’s sorry, so sorry, that any of this happened and—

She peers up at him, her eyes more focused now, less wide-eyed and horror-struck. “Would you stay here?” she asks, biting her lip. “While I shower? Just so I’m not—”

“‘Course.” Harry swallows, putting her on her feet. She lands with unintentional grace, one foot after the next.

“And can you… erm.” She turns her back to him, lifting her hair above her zipper. His hands shake as he reaches for the clasp. He knows the exact shape of her back as he slides it down, over the middle bump of her white bra strap. He nearly unstraps that for her, too, before he catches himself. It reeks of intimacy, doesn’t it? All of this…

His eyes linger on the soft swell of her bum before he turns around, self-disgust hammering in his throat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he adds feebly. He balls his hands into fists as her dress hits the floor… followed by her bra. And her knickers.

“Not your fault,” she croaks, stepping into the shower. He smiles, his glasses fogging up as he moves to sit on the closed toilet seat. Even covered in blood and traumatized, she can't bring herself to blame him.

She finishes several minutes later.

“Erm… towel?” She shuts the water off. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he soothes, thrusting one through the curtain. “D’you want me to leave, or…?”

Ginny manages a weak snort. “Nah. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles at the door as he turns around again. She’s right, of course; he knows every bloody inch of her… but it’s not quite the same now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He whips around to face her. Admittedly, she looks… better. The blood’s gone. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from sobbing, but she’s looking a bit less like a woman who witnessed a death. Which reminds him…

“Erm. Give me a second to get it all cleaned up?”

Ginny shudders and settles on the toilet seat; he immediately kicks himself for asking. “Yeah,” she says a moment later. “Just… come get me, ok? When you’re done?”

He nods.

___________________________

It can’t be later than 10 PM when he finally carries her to the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

He’s exhausted from the nights on the sofa, but he knows she’s worse off. He’s cleaned the bedroom fairly well, he thinks, considering. There’s a rust-colored stain above the closet that he reckons won’t go anywhere anytime soon. He just hopes she doesn’t see it.

He rests her on the duvet surface, fully prepared to head downstairs for the night— but the pleading look on her face informs him he’s got other plans, instead. So without sharing a single word, he spreads his palms, lies beside her, and waits.

It comes eventually, as he knew it would. One person can’t deal with all that, see all that, without eventually cracking. And as a fellow fucked-up individual, he would know.

It starts as simple tears, ones that he wipes away. It progresses into sobs… full-body sobs. The sort he heard coming up the stairs. He’s surprised she’s got any left, but Ginny’s always been the sort to keep him on his toes. And just as her water-dark hair starts to dry and sprout red tendrils, he faces the thing he expected least of all: a kiss.

She starts softly. Slowly. Her lips so tender and soft that he forgets everything. She moans against his mouth, her whole body leaning into it; he’s instantly reminded of how much he’s fucking missed her. How lonely he’s been. How could he have forgotten the tiny mewl she makes in the back of her throat as her tongue parts his lips? He must’ve blocked it out, he realizes, as she begins to slide her body against him, panting, as she tips her head back. His lips trail down her neck, nibbling and biting, as she grips his arms and hair and bum. Because if he’d remembered all of these little details, he’d have gone mad long ago.

He’s throbbing hard by the time he gets to the tail end of her towel, which brushes the tip of her thighs. He tries to adjust himself, to—

“You can take it out, you know.”

Oh. He blinks up at her, his breath freezing in his throat. She’s peering down at him, her lips red and swollen.

“I know you’re hard,” she adds, her voice still raw. “So if it’s uncomfortable… take it out.”

He arches a brow from his position at her thigh. He’s about to retort with something snappy. Something that might keep them bantering for ages. But Ginny has no patience.

“Please.” It’s nearly a command. She blinks down with glassy eyes, her lips swollen. “I want you, Harry.”

Fuck. He groans, rubbing his cock against his palm to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t help for long, not that it matters; he’d rather focus on her, anyway. So with a slip of his fingers, the towel opens. She releases a breathy moan, tipping her head back.

Naked.

She’s finally naked. In front of him. His breathing grows ragged, his eyes scanning the territory somehow both totally familiar and completely new. She is thinner; he was right. Her hip bones jut out now, her stomach more sunken. But most of her is the same. The smattering of freckles on her chest. The way her breasts have puckered and darkened, the way her chest is rising and falling so fast. The thatch of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Well,” she quips. He blinks up at her as she reclines on her elbow. “Are you going to fuck me, Harry, or just stare all day?”

With that, he removes his glasses and gives her a smirk— her only real warning— before he kisses her one more time, just as his fingers spread her thighs.

She opens beneath him with a breathy sigh. Fuck, she’s so wet… he groans into her mouth as he dips his fingers further and further down. She’s dripping by the time he finds her clit… by the time he begins to swirl in tight circles. Clockwise. The pattern that screams of such intimate familiarity that it’s as if the years never passed.

He’s scarcely done anything, but she’s already writhing against his fingers, arching her back. “Please,” she slurs after a minute, “put them in.”

He’s never been one to deny her, has he?

It’s like muscle memory how quickly he finds his face between her thighs instead. He spares a moment of self-indulgence as he closes his eyes, breathing her in. She smells like home. She always has. It’s comfort… but more than that, it’s proof. Proof she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s why he stuffed his face in her knickers whenever he got a spare moment on the Horcrux hunt: one hand on that black lace, the other pulling at his cock. It’s bloody erotic, seeing proof of how much she wants him… but it’s more than that.

It’s love.

And despite all the things he’s forgotten tonight, he’d never forget this. He presses two fingers inside her, his hands shaking, and lets his body do the rest. Fuck, he’s missed this. She cries out above him, her hands grasping at his hair, tugging him closer. He’s never forgotten this… the way she tastes. The way she smells. The right way to run his tongue against her clit. Exactly how many fingers she needs, pressed against her just there… crooked in a certain position… just as she begins to thrust herself up and down on them, her cries growing louder, more insistent… and yesssss, there it is, she’s right there, right fucking there—

“Harry!” Her hair rubs against the pillow with abandon. “I’m… I’m so close,” she pants, her body starting to shake.

“Come for me,” he commands, his cock fit to burst, his face slippery. “Come for me, Ginny.”

He returns to her clit for a split-second before she says the words that change everything.

Her whole body tenses, a blush spreading up her chest. “I love you!” she cries, her voice strangled… and with that, she’s coming, clenching around him, her body shaking as he rides her through it.

What he doesn’t tell her is that he comes, too. The second those words wash over him. Those fucking words that prove he’s fucked up, fucked up, fucked up… but he can’t exactly help that, can he?

He just shoves his face into the duvet, thrusting his hips once, twice, and with a grunt, he’s off. His cock tightens and bursts, filling his boxers. Soaking through his jeans. He pulls back, dizzy, when the clenching finally stops.

Luckily, she seems too distracted to notice. Ginny’s half-asleep as he rises from between her thighs, pulling the blanket over her. He presses a kiss to her temple and makes quick work of removing his soggy clothes. Fairly embarrassing, this. Like he’s 16 again and rutting on the lawn.

He mutters a quick cleaning charm and changes into basketball shorts before settling down beside her in bed… making sure he’s on top of the duvet.

But as he drifts off, there’s something far less sentimental that hammers through his chest: They need to get their shit sorted.

Before he ever, ever lets that happen again.

#harry/ginny fanfic #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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mack3030 · 4 years ago

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Types of Paywall Abuse --- A post...

I think it’s time to tackle a topic that might make a few simmers uncomfortable, but we need to talk about it, because in addition to seeing a lot of people complain about it in general, I’ve also been getting some anons in my inbox talking about it. So let’s discuss this.

Now, first of all, I would like to clarify a couple of things:

When I speak of PAYWALLS here, I am talking about custom content that can ONLY be accessed by paying, or viewing an ad through a virus filled ad shortener link (which is just as bad). Pure early access content, where you pay for it and get it earlier than everyone else who gets it for free IS NOT PAYWALLED CONTENT.

This is why it is called a pay “WALL” because the wall portion indicates that you cannot access it without paying a fee/toll.

Second of all, I would like to remind the public at large that this is not hate, it is a critical commentary. I am not going to go for these creators personally, nor do I want to. I, as a member of the community who plays the sims 4, and downloads/uses CC, would like to simply hold some of these creators accountable for actions that are unethical and unsatisfactory to the community in which they serve. That is it. No more, no less. I simply believe they CAN do better and BE better than this.

Now, let’s get into the meat of this.

The main type of abuse that I have focused on has been what I call Permapaywalls.

Permapaywalls:

Content that cannot be accessed ANY other way than either paying a certain amount via patreon or another service, OR viewing a link through a virus-filled ad that puts your computer at risk.

There are many creators who are well known permapaywall creators, with at least 80% or more of their content being locked behind these permapaywalls. Sometimes they may release a few items for free, but this is very similar to being allowed to test drive a car before buying it. It’s to entice the user/viewer into liking the brand, and then buying in.

I’m not going to delve into this too much because I’ve already expounded on this topic a bit. So let’s go further.

The next type of abuse is what I like to call “Exclusive Loopholes”.

Exclusive Loopholes: Creators who try to “get around” EA’s early access policy by offering a majority of their content as early access, but holding back certain items only to those who “subscribe” to their “patreon exclusive” content.

There are some who are okay with this, thinking of this as a neat “bonus” for those who subscribe and support. However, the sims team made it clear:

Folks who have a Patreon page are welcome to provide folks with "early access" incentives for their content but it should be made available to the general public within 2-3 weeks of it being given to folks early.

- Simguru Drake, The Sims Forum

Notice nowhere in this answer does it say anything about BONUS CC incentives. Nowhere. This is just a method that certain creators try to use to keep people from decrying them as “big bad paywall creators”. This way they can say “oh look, we do early access, we’re following EA’s rules~!” while still holding content hostage.

If you want to offer your patreons some exclusives, here’s some ideas: * Share pictures of your process, or work in progress content coming up. * Allow them to have input into your process via polls and questions. * Have an exclusive discord community just for your patreons where they can talk to you easier and share excitement and input about your content with you and each other. * Have exclusive streams where only you and your patreons have the link to see you go live making content. * Host a workshop on how to make CC using your process. (I see all of you who steal meshes from other sites sweating over this. ;D) * Pause billing for a month and say “you know what, since you guys have been loyal and supported me, have a month of patreon on me!” * Anything that honestly doesn’t involve only giving those patreons CC and not releasing it to the public.

Let’s talk about another type, and oh my lanta, this type has had some anons messaging me ALL up in arms. I like to call this type “The Donation Disaster”.

Donation Disaster: Someone who CONSTANTLY uses the “downs” in the up/downs of life as excuses to not release content on time, or delay it while still collecting payment from patreons. Bonus “you’re a jerk” points if they then try to use those misfortunate circumstances to beg for even more money from their patreons on multiple occasions.

Look, we all have junk that goes on in our lives. But when that junk is used as an excuse for you continually delaying content while still charging your patreons (and not using the pause feature), it makes them feel cheated. In addition, when you then ask for donations to help you during your difficult time, and turn to your patreons instead of the support networks that are around you (ex: friends, family, religious communities, etc.), that can be VERY off-putting. You might be able to get away with it once, maybe twice, without a large chunk of your community turning against you. But the more regular it becomes, and the more they hear about how strapped for cash you are and how you’re asking them to give more than their pledge, and you’ll soon find yourself being called a scammer. Regardless of your intent, or if your problems are reality, you’ll find people’s empathy for your situation will be lacking.

I’ve had a few anons in my inbox talking about different patreon creators that always seem to have an excuse for why updates aren’t coming just yet, or why x is broken, and with their excuse comes a plea for help with bills, and a link to a paypal or venmo.

Everyone has junk, don’t get me wrong. And it sucks to go through the junk we have in life, but if you’re reaching out to random people on the internet as your first method of support, you might need to be looking someplace else for support first before you come to the people who are already paying you for content you make. A one time “hey I’m in a bind, I need some help” donation thing might not be a bad thing, but when it becomes a constant pattern on your patreon....people aren’t going to take it well...at all.

And last, but not least, I’d like to talk about the last kind of patreon abuse, which frankly, is really upsetting to me. I don’t even really have a name for it, because it’s literally so much of a “what?” thing in my head. I don’t even understand why it goes on. Now, this practice involves the black/POC community, and frankly, as a white girl, I don’t feel I should be speaking over the community and what they have to say. Thankfully @xmiramira spoke on it, all the way back in 2019. Here’s an excerpt from her fantastic POST:

Even new creators who JUST joined the community sliding up in TBS with locs and braids talking about Patreon only. GTFOH. I’m not okay with creators doing Patreon only CC PERIOD, but my main discussion is focused on NON BLACK simmers making CC catered to US, and making it PATREON EXCLUSIVE IN AN ATTEMPT TO FORCE US TO PLEDGE, and how people are ASSUMING that I’m OKAY WITH THIS, and ASSUMING that I’m letting it FLY in my community. Just because I don’t go off about shit as frequent as I used to doesn’t mean I cannot see and I am not doing what I can to keep the fuckery OUT.“Oh but your friend has a Patreon” I don’t have an issue with what @ebonixsims is doing because it’s all early release. It gets released to the public a few weeks later. It’s not being kept behind Patreon, forcing people to pledge to her. Despite this, she’s still doing really good with it. So don’t get it twisted, I’m not on social media arguing with folks so people just assumed I’m okay with this shit, I’m really not. I’m actually two seconds off dropping Patreon share folders. (That also have my shit in it) Supporting people is one thing, but a lot of these motherfuckers are becoming extremely exploitive, and it’s aggravating. It’s like you goofy motherfuckers sit in DMs like “yeah let’s make some CC for the negros and put it on Patreon” Fuck outta here. And it’s not even just hair, it’s skins and even CLOTHING STYLES. Y’all are really wilding the hell out. African necklaces, black girl magic chains, Juicy Couture sweatsuits. Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling? IM TIRED! Next time someone asks me where I got something and it’s Patreon exclusive I’m dropping a SFS link. FUCK OUTTA HERE!

Here’s the deal. The black community has been fighting for a while to be able to feel represented in this game. Here’s two articles (ONE, TWO) talking about this issue. But the thing that has me upset is the fact that SO many creators of content that is AIMED at Black/POC simmers are locking that content (or a good majority of it) behind paywalls. And what’s even more shameful is some of those creators are POC themselves! They understand what it’s like to feel that they cannot make themselves or have sims that look like them in this game, yet they still lock their content away and expect people not just in the SIMS community, but in the POC community to pay through the nose for it. The fact that this is STILL going on, two freaking years after she made this post, and that both NON POC creators and POC creators are engaging in this behavior is honestly disappointing and shameful. I believe black/POC creators should be supported, BUT they should be supported without depriving their OWN community of representation and access. And frankly, if you’re a NON POC creator and you’re specifically targeting this group to make money off of them with paywalls, I have only one thing to say to you:

I’d speak on it more, but frankly, I’d rather let the people who are actually in the black/POC community speak on it, so if any of you want to let loose in the comments about this problem, go wild. I’m happy to sit back and listen, and I suggest others do the same.

#nopaywalls #sims4 #sims4mm #sims4alpha #support early access creators #stop being a jerk #patreon abuse

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drlessy · 4 years ago

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I am going to draw more in the future because I adore him but here’s some ramble about dragon! Izuku AU; I may write a little fic with hims but if you want to write one as well feel free to!! link me if you do :D Dragon! Izuku & Dragon! Dadzawa! AU HCs (Modern times) How Izuku is found: - Izuku is abandoned as soon as he hatches from his egg, stranded in the woods. He’s a confused and hungry bb. - Aizawa is looking for a place to transform into his big boi dragon form and stretch his wings but he ends up finding dragon Izuku bb. - Izuku, having not even seen his own mother or any other person, immediately clings to Aizawa and pretty much claims him as his parent. - Aizawa accepts his fate because there would be no where else for this kid to go and he will be a handful, as most dragon hybrids/dragonborns are. And he, a dragon hybrid himself, is the best option. It’s not like he knew any other dragons in the neighborhood. - the new dragon dad however is also pissed off because someone abandoned Izuku in the first place, but he can’t do anything about it now. - So, Aizawa brings Izuku home to his home and now he has a dragon son that he may or may not tell no one about until a month later. Let’s just say Hizashi is the most upset about not being told. Izuku’s habits: now Im not 100% knowledgable in dragons but. - Izuku has really bad chewing issues, Aizawa has to get him chew toys- but sadly those get destroyed rather quickly as Izuku’s sharp teeth start growing in. Izuku really really loves the ones that squeak and tends to bite open the toys to get to the squeaker. He’s always overly confused when the squeaker stops squeaking when he destroys it. - When Izuku’s talons start growing in he has to scratch everything he can, Aizawa is prepared for this. He has a few scratching posts and the doors are covered with something izuku can scratch freely without ruining the door itself. Izuku ends up scratching up Aizawa’s couch anyways and he has to get a new one. - Izuku tends to bite his hands and tail, the chew toys help stop this but sometimes Aizawa has to put gloves on him. - Izuku’s tail wags and sometimes thumps against the ground real hard whenever he’s happy. He’s accidentally broken a few things by doing this. - Izuku’s wings aren’t strong enough to carry him off the ground until he’s about four years old, so he just flaps his wings rapidly as baby to stretch them. - When Izuku finally transforms into his dragon form it’s chaos to get him to turn back because he’s just a happy baby dragon running around the home. - izuku tends to accidentally let fire out of his mouth whenever he burps. He didn’t mean to set the blanket on fire! He didn’t! (The fire is also green.) - Izuku clings to Aizawa for about 99% of the time the first year he’s there. He just latches onto his leg, back, or stomach and stays there until Aizawa prys him off. It’s a baby dragon habit to stick to a parent. - Izuku lets out chirps and purrs- as well as ‘meeps’. (”Meep!” “Oh yeah?” “Meep!” “Very interesting. Where did you learn that?” “Meep!”) Future; - Izuku goes to UA, residing in class 1-A. The dragon isn’t sure if he wants to be a hero but he would like to save people. Either way, the class is there for him to train and handle his dragon abilities with the help of his Dadzawa. - The class has to adapt to Izuku’s dragon habits, this includes being seen as Izuku’s pack and getting the treatment of nose nuzzles to the neck. - Bakugou tries to get a rise out of Izuku once and he accidentally gets burnt for it. Izuku feels guilty about it, but Bakugou is just so confused on why Izuku continues to treat him kindly. - Sometimes Izuku forgets to speak Japanese and just chirps and coos until Aizawa or someone else points out that he is infact not being understood. - Izuku is more easily flustered whenever he embarrasses himself than he is whenever he’s caught doing his ‘dragon habits’. It’s only because Aizawa never told him it was wrong to do things like growl when frustrated or thump his tail against the ground happily. - Izuku does not get One for All, but he does know about All Might’s smallmight form immediately because dragons can see a certain energy around a person. All might is surprised, to say the least when a scaly student is asking for his autograph. (and not asking what happened, at all. he may be oblivious and think that All Might just has two forms. who knows.) - Aizawa pretends not to favor Izuku but he does. He’ll let Izuku into his sleeping bag if that kid is having a bad day and give him pats on the head whenever he passes him. Izuku honestly has no idea what favoritism or acting normal around your teacher is and tends to cling to Aizawa whenever he’s allowed. (Which, technically he’s not allowed at all but Aizawa still doesn’t stop him-) Plot: - honestly I have no real clue I just like self-indulgent fluff stuff but here’s some ideas maybe?; - Dragon-borns are a rarity and villains may be hunting them down to use to their advantage. (Izuku in danger and Feral Aizawa because his kid was taken from him?) - Dragons mating for life, (Ship fic? Erasermic, Deku ships. Etc.)? - Izuku’s dad trying to come back for him, but Aizawa says hell no. He abandoned his kid, he cant just do that. (That or mom,, but,, sobs) - a world that isnt modern and actually older-times, Aizawa is a king maybe and finds Izuku who becomes a prince. (Etc) That’s all I got atm. Feel free to add on or do your own AU with similar ideas to this!

#Dadzawa #Aizawa Shouta #Izuku Midoriya #Deku #Eraserhead #Dragon Deku #Dragon Aizawa #MHA #My Hero Academia #BNHA #MHA Dragon AU

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violettelueur · 4 years ago

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE NINETEEN || BLACK FLASH

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood + mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 13 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 4.6k

↳ previous episode : sage

↳ next episode : nonstandard

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, this will probably have terrible grammer issues here and there because i started this at 10:30pm and how it is 4am....ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but also fun fact, when i was writing the fight scene, i legit had to grab a chopstick and try to reenact the scene i needed to write for in the kitchen ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ BUT moving on from that, thank you so much for being so patient with the series and hope you enjoy this special cup of classic black coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

Destructive Curse Spell Number Sixty Three : Raikoho (6:29-6:44)

Destructive Curse Spell Number One : Sho (4:56-5:04)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

A multitude of running footsteps continuously pounded against the wooden floor below, as everyone was determined to get away from the special-grade curse that was chasing them at this very moment in time, as what followed everyone was a vast wave of wooden branches that was violently destroying the corridor behind them.

“Are you all right, Inumaki-senpai?” Fushiguro asked with concern enveloping his overall tone, as the mentioned upperclassmen seemed to be struggling right now.

“Salmon,” Inumaki replied, in an attempt to reassure his classmate that he was doing and going to be alright, when in fact it looked as if it was the complete opposite currently.

“Here it comes!” Kamo yelled out to warn everyone as he spun around to face his opponent, leading the cursed spirit to launch a few sharp branches towards him as well as you, once you fully turned around to make sure that your classmate from the Kyoto side was going to be safe.

“Stop,” Inumaki commanded leading his curse technique to come to effect as his voice not only echoed through the hallways but forced the curse and its attack to come into a sudden halt, leading Kamo the given opportunity to launch his technique as a rapid long-ranged shot of blood directly attacked towards the curse’s head (which was somewhat covered in burns due to your last technique before everyone started to flee by your command) causing some fragments of it to chip off to which surprised Fushiguro slight as you stood at the top of the stairs just above Inumaki.

“Hurry! He’s just gonna heal right away!” Kamo instructed everyone as he ran up the stairs causing you to give one last look at the curse before rushing up the wooden steps as Kamo has told you.

From what you could observe, the branches seemed to be the curse’s weakest point since Kamo’s last attack managed to hit its head causing you to come to that conclusion while your curse spell managed to cause some permanent damage to the curse due to the damage that remained after. However, even if you did want to continuously use the same curse technique over and over again, to not only cause the building that everyone was residing in to collapses and burn down but it also put your comrades in danger, something that you ultimately wanted to avoid at all cost.

Hearing a small but noticeable cough, you quickly turned your head back slightly to discover Inumaki’s face glistening with sweat as he took another sip of his medicine leading you to become more concerned about how much longer he could since this plan that suddenly came about wasn’t the most practical of them all, yet...it was the best for now.

Right as you turned back to look forward, you noticed that you were coming to a door leading you to push yourself further as you reached your arm out to slam the door open before jumping over the balcony to the roof that was slightly down below leading the boys to follow after. However, mere seconds later, there was an explosive sound erupting from behind causing you to quickly turn back to find that the curse had already made a wooden pathway with its branches as a way to walk over to everyone.

“Inumaki-senpai will stop it. Don’t worry, just go,” Fushiguro mentioned as he guided Nue towards the curse, leading the shikigami to fly straight towards the opponent with no hesitation.

“No wait!” you shouted, as you reached your whole arm out like you were able to reach the owl-like creature in time. However, the second Fushiguro turned to face you to see what was wrong, the curse’s arm swiftly punctured the shikigami straight through causing Inumaki to collapse to the ground with blood seeping out from his mouth leading you to realise that your upperclassman was at his limit.

On the other hand, before you could even react, you heard someone behind you being thrown causing you to look behind only to discover Kamo’s body being flung to the other side with Fushiguro right behind him to catch his fall leaving you in the middle on the rooftop between your classmate and the curse.

“Are you alive, Kamo-san?” Fushiguro questioned in a panic since he was not only troubled by the fact that one of the students could be in life-critical condition but with you also being in danger due to where you were standing currently and him having no idea why the curse was going after you.

Steadily, your hand slowly moved towards the dark blue metal pole that has been hanging on your belt for some time as you hooked your katana horizontally on your back, so your other hand will be free to freely manoeuvre the weapon of choice that you were choosing to handle the curse.

However, it seemed as if Fushiguro had other ideas as his hands shakily began to hesitantly raise up as if he was going to summon another shikigami into the battlefield. Although, before he was able to completely commit to his plan, there was a sudden pressure laid upon his shoulder catching him by surprise as he turned to look back at Inumaki, who was somewhat struggling to stand.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki stated with determination with a hint of tiredness lacing in his tone, leading you to turn your head back to notice him beginning to stagger towards you.

“Inumaki-senpai...That’s enough!” Fushiguro mentioned in a worried tone causing you to grab onto his sleeve once he stood by your side, only for him to present you a small smile once he turned to you - as if to tell you that everything was going to be okay.

“Blast away!” Inumaki suddenly roared leading to curse’s body to instantly flung itself to the other rooftop that was positioned above you just a slight bit before he fell to his knees with blood began to profusely run down his mouth causing you to kneel down by his side as you supported his body with one hand while your other hand gently on his neck to begin the process of reverse cursed energy to ensure that he was going to be stable before someone was able to take him to Shoko - if someone even could at this point.

However, it seemed as if Inumaki’s attempt was futile as the special grade curse sat up with no issue at all leading you to wonder how strong this curse was since it didn’t seem to take any damage whatsoever from Kamo’s and Inumaki’s attempts leaving you to the conclusion that you had to use your curse technique at this point.

“You can’t cut me with that dull blade,” the curse stated before raising its arm to not only block but shatter the weapon Maki was swinging towards it leaving her to look at it with widened eyes before tutting in annoyance leading Fushiguro to jump over you to attack the curse with his weapon once again, only for him to miss slightly as he managed to slice off a piece of the branch that acted as its eyes.

“Now this sword isn’t so bad, but you could just give me the girl as we will call it a day,” the curse commented while healing the tattered branch causing it to grow back, leaving no trace of it ever being cut off by Fushiguro.

Although, it seemed as if Fushiguro and Maki had something else planned as your classmate reached into his shadow that was manifesting below him to replace his sword with another cursed tool before giving it to Maki, who tossed the broken tool she had to the side.

“I have something even better. This one feels disgusting to use, though,” Maki mentioned before quickly unfolding the weapon to reveal a three-sectioned staff before swiftly spinning around to swing the weapon across towards the curse, resulting in the curse to block the attack, only for it to be violently and forcibly pushed forward into the forest.

“Gojo, run towards the edge of the veil and stay there!” Fushiguro yelled out to you before him and Maki sprinted forward towards the direction to where the curse was located, causing you to stare at him in confusion before instantly turning back to check in Kamo was still right behind you to which lead to carefully place Inumaki down on his back as you rush towards the Kyoto student’s side before you proceeded to turn his body to discover that his face was damaged badly causing you to place your hand over his head leading you to heal what you could before transport arrive.

On the other hand, before you could even worry about how you were going to get both Inumaki and Kamo to the end of the veil, you suddenly heard someone calling out your name causing you to peer up to the sky, only to find both Itadori and Todo coming down towards you in a speed that not even Sonic the Hedgehog could even achieve.

“GOJO!” Itadori yelled before powerfully landing right in front of you, leading you swiftly to grab on to the top of the roof to maintain some balance while using your other arm to cling onto Kamo’s body to make sure he didn’t fall as well.

“Itadori!” you replied in relief causing your classmate to smile at you even in the tough situation you were in right now.

“Gojo, Nishimiya is going to get those two out of the veil but according to her, the veil is an anti-Gojo Satoru one,” Todo inform you causing you to look at the first-grade sorcerer with widened eyes before you turned your head to the side to observe the veil that was enveloping all the students right now.

“Anti-Gojo?” you muttered under your breath, before turning your head back towards the muscular student, only to see him smirk confidently at you before Itadori took his hand out as if to help you up.

“Don’t worry about the other two, they will be safe, we all need to head to where the curse is right now!” Itadori mentioned leading you to turn to him as you quickly noticed the amount of cursed energy that was surrounding him right now, causing you to wonder how much he has improved over the past few months he was away.

Placing Kamo gently on his back, you grabbed onto Itadori’s hand causing your friend to pull you up before Todo stretched out his arm behind you, trying to convey for you to sit there so both he could carry you to the destination where you needed to be at this very moment in time.

“Todo...I need you to follow a plan,” you sudden declared, causing him to turn to you with a confused look while you seated yourself on his large arm (which surprisingly managed to keep you still with the help of Itadori, who placed his arm behind your back). “Just promise me you won’t tell anyone about my curse technique at all, not even a single word of it,” you said to him with a threatening tone causing itadori to look at you with a somewhat frightened expression on his face while his friend peered at you with a smile.

“I’m fine with that, but I also need you to help me with one thing,” Todo mentioned as he turned his head to face forward.

“And what would that be?” you asked.

‘Ah...this is going to be a drag…’

ꕥ

"Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind, stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Destructive Curse Spell number sixty-three: Raikoho!" you chanted, as you placed your hand out like a claw leading to an exciting orb of yellow concentrated cursed energy to manifest itself within your palm, before rapidly striking down towards the targeted special grade curse like a destructive lighting bolt leading Todo to grab Maki within his grasp a second before the cursed spell hit the ground which leads to your opponent being paralysed.

“Keeping to the deal?” Todo asked you with a smile on his face causing you to shift your eye to the side, where he stood before unhooking the metal pool from your belt.

“Yeah, I am,” you answered causing him and Itadori to move to the side for a second - which Itadori was confused about since he didn’t know what show he was in for.

Fushiguro, who was crouching down with a speck of blood trailed down on the corner of his mouth began to argue against the appearance of you and Itadori. However, it seemed as if you weren’t listening to him to or to any of the student behind you at all since you needed to concentrate on both the situation you were in right now but also on the little deal you made with Todo - even though, regardless if you were able to show him the technique or not, you knew that Todo was keeping his word about keeping your technique a secret...that was what you could rely on him as well as his strength.

‘Black Flash huh...now that is a drag…’

“Now that you are here, why don’t you come peacefully?” the curse asked, causing you to mentally sigh as it was causing your concentration to waver, but you really weren’t in the mood to answer.

Stretching out your arm, you held the dark blue metal poll right in front of the curse before letting the weapon extend itself before forming an extremely sharp blade at the top leading the curse to look at it in confusion since it seemed to notice that your katana was missing due to it remembering that it was handing behind your lower back area.

ꕥ

“This is my gift to you! Think of it as a welcome to the Gojo Clan gift!” Gojo excitedly announced as he presented you a gift box with a bright smile on his face, causing you to look at the gift in surprise since you didn’t expect him to give you anything when you came to his clan estate but also by the fact that the ribbon tied into a bow was the same colour as his eyes.

‘I don’t know if it’s because he is being egotistical or he just like the colour blue’

“Thank you,” you said with much gratitude before taking the box away from his grasp leading him to gleefully chant that you open it in front of him since he was desperate to see your reaction.

Looking at the box, you couldn’t help but notice a little note saying ‘a gift from a father to a daughter’ leading the corners of your lip to twitch a little since you came to the realisation that it had been a while that someone had ever given you a gift before you processed to tug the tail of the bow before lifting the lip once the ribbon was fully removed.

“A metal...pole?” you said in a confused tone as you tilted your head to the side, before letting your fingertips touch the ice-cold metal as they began to trace the gold detailing that was embroidering the gift.

“No, no dear, it’s a polearm that just needs to be extended with cursed energy! It was made by your ancestor during the Heian era and I’m surprised it managed it stay intact after all that time here in the Gojo Clan since it was a gift from them to us,” Gojo informed you, as he took a sip of the sweetened coffee that you had brought from him before coming to his estate. “I thought that it might be better if it was in your hands from now on, besides it does technically belong to you,” Gojo suggested with a bright smile on his face, once you lifted the weapon out of the box to observe it more.

Turning it around in the light the room provided, you couldn’t help but suddenly notice a small design of what seemed to be a small flower depicting a tsubaki painted in a light pink right in the middle of the metal pole causing you to stare at it in absolute curiosity.

“Thank you so much, Gojo-sensei,” you stated once again in appreciation once you placed it back into the box causing Gojo to pout at you which led you to look at him in complete confusion the second you looked up to face him.

“CALL ME DAD, Y/N!”

ꕥ

“Are you even listening?” the cursed questioned you as if seemed to be getting annoyed at the fact that you were just standing in front of it with no emotion attached to your face, causing the students behind you to look forward since they were beginning to become confused on why you haven’t attacked yet.

Although, it seemed like it didn’t have to wait long since you used your other hand to grab onto the pole before beginning to spin the now extended polearm aggressively leading the curse to now be on its guard since it had no idea what you were planning on now.

‘Black Flash is a distortion in space that occurs when cursed energy is applied with 0.000001 seconds of a physical hit, it can amplify a normal attack’s force by 2.5. It’s such a drag process but since this curse likes to get up close and personal, it seems like the best choice for now’

Suddenly, you quickly grabbed the polearm halting the spinning motion before using the ball of your foot to push yourself swiftly across the lake to appear in front of the curse, catching it by surprise since it seemed like you had just teleported right in front of them, only for you to violently swing your polearm down onto its shoulder leading it to groan in pain causing you to speedily spin around behind it leading the polearm to now swing across before forcibly landing the sharp blade to its side, suddenly causing the formation of a familiar black spark that danced around the area you were in like electricity currents causing Todo (who was observing from the sideline) smile at the scene with confidence, while Itadori looked at the same battle in shock.

However, before Todo could even call you to remove yourself from the battle, you instantly placed your hand above the other in order to rapidly rotate the polearm leading the other end to strike its other shoulder (while the blade was now facing downwards) causing another flash of black to appear once again to which lead the curse to cry out in agony, causing everyone to admire the fight with such astonishment.

“Gojo! Switch!” Todo yelled out, leading your concentration to instantly waver once again which caused you to push the heel of your back foot to quickly retreat to the side where everyone was before the curse could even afflict any attack on you in retaliation on what you had just done to it.

“Told you there is nothing to worry about,” Todo mentioned as he looked down at Fushiguro causing the shikigami user to look at you with his surprise before turning to look at Itadori.

“If you die again, I’ll kill you myself!” Fushiguro declared causing you to look at him with a complete perplexed look on your face since the sentence he just stated didn’t make any sense, leading Panda to extend his arm out to carry his lower classmen to the other side of the veil.

“Pandash!” Panda yelled out before carrying both Fushiguro and Maki to safety.

“Guess I can’t afford to die now,” Itadori muttered before rolling his shoulder to prepare for his turn on the battlefield with determination after witnessing your performance.

“I won’t lift a finger to help, Itadori. Not until you land a Black Flash. If you can’t land a Black Flash, then I’ll just watch you die, no matter what happens to you,” Todo declared with his arms crossed with one of his hands holding on to your katana, leading you to stand up straight with a dumbfounded look on your face after what he had just yelled out before taking your original weapon from his grasp.

‘HUH?! WHAT WAS THE POINT IN MY LITTLE PERFORMANCE THEN?!’

“Got it!” Itadori replied after letting out a breath, causing you to look at your classmate with the same surprised expression, even though his back was facing you right now.

“Don’t you think that is a bit dangerous?” you queried as you turned back to look at the Kyoto student, only for him to give you a serious look on his face as if to say that he believed in Itadori and his threat was just a fluke.

“I guess I can’t stop you then...I already know he’s got this,” you muttered before shrugging your shoulders since you knew there was no way Itadori wanted you to interrupt this lesson.

To be honest, Black Flash was the perfect move for him.

Suddenly, you heard a loud explosion from behind causing you to turn your whole body around to find Itadori punching the ground leading a huge splash of water to arise before noticing two pieces of rock attempting to strike the curse, only for them to be deflected the second it touched its hand.

Once the water dropped down, you witnessed Itadori’s fast reflexes as he managed to dodge the curse’s attack, landing a few kicks towards its stomach before Itadori used his last kick to target its face. However, you could tell then intensity was low meaning he wouldn’t even hit a single Black Flash with an attempt like that, only for the result you had come to happen as he attempted the technique once he landed a punch against the curse’s torso, only for Itadori to force himself back once the curse retaliates by trying to hit him with its branches, only for the effort to be futile.

“My friend,” Todo said causing Itadori to look at him, only to receive a smack across the face leading you to look at the scene with a fed-up expression since the connection on Todo’s hand and Itadori’s cheek was quite loud for a normal slap to sound.

‘What...The...Hell?’

“Anger is an important trigger for sorcerers, sometimes then can be taken down purely because they accidentally angered their foe and the opposite is also true. Sometimes they lose because their own anger disrupts their cursed energy, so they can’t exercise their abilities. Your friend has been wounded, and worse yet, they’ve rained on your honeymoon with me, you best friend, so I can really understand why you’d be boiling with rage,” Todo expressed with understanding, only for you to look at him with an extremely fed-up expression depicted on your face.

‘I don’t think the ‘best friend’ bit is why he is really angry, you drag’

“But that rage is too much for you, put it away for now,” Todo then informed Itadori before slapping his face again leading you to vocally express your confusion about the scene that was happening right in front of you.

“Huh?” you uttered out.

“Are those stray thoughts gone now?” Todo questioned with a small smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, not a single one left. Thank you so much, best friend!” Itadori replied with a confident smile on your face leading you to tilt your head to the side as you witnessed this scene - if you were going to tell this to Kugisaki, you wouldn’t know if she would believe you or not…

Walking back out into the river, Itadori raised his fist up while peering at the curse with an intense stare only for his opponent to quickly push itself forward leading Itadori to follow as branches began to invade his side. However, it seemed as if Itadori hadn’t noticed them at all since he was directing going straight down the middle, leading his fist to make contact with the curse’s torso causing the manifestation of the black spark that you and Todo were waiting for.

“He did...it,” you muttered in amazement as the curse’s branches suddenly disappeared while its body was forcibly pushed back.

“Now you understand the taste of cursed energy,” Todo mentioned as he proceeded to walk into the shallow river with a proud smile on his face. “Up until now, you’ve just been throwing an ingredient you’ve never tasted before into a pot and boiling it without knowing why. But after experiencing Black Flash and understanding the taste of your ingredient, your cursed energy, you stand on a completely different level as a chef than you did three seconds ago. Congratulations, brother, you can become strong,” Todo then expressed with joy leading your classmate to look at him with a concentrated expression on what he was trying to explain.

‘I guess that is a good way to describe it. To be honest, it is kind of similar to Gojo’s teaching but a tiny bit better…’

“It can heal?!” Itadori asked in shock, as it noticed the growth of the curses’ hand.

“A cursed spirit’s body is made up of cursed energy. Unlike us, they don’t need any advanced reversed cursed technique to heal like how Gojo does. An injury like that is nothing to a special-grade, but there’s no doubt that it shaves away their cursed energy and if you crush their head, it’s game set,” Todo explained before turning to look at you with a

“Now, shall we get cooking?” Todo asked you and Itadori in an assertive tone, leading you to look at him with a surprised expression before sighing as if you had a choice to not fight anyway.

However, before you could even take a single step into the river, you notice something from the corner of your eye causing you to raise your polearm swiftly seconds before you were now suddenly violently pushed back to extreme lengths away from the battle you were going to involve yourself in causing Itadori to yell out your name in complete panic. Although, there was no point in chasing after you, as you were now concealed within the multitude of trees that were surrounding the area with a hooded intruder, who was now keeping you at more than an arm’s length away from the two students you were supposed to keep an eye on.

“Destructive Curse Spell number one: Sho!” you chanted, leading a small ball of concentrated cursed energy to form in the middle on your polearm leading to the weapon and the person, who was pushing you, to be blasted back leading a distance to be created between you both giving you the space to press your feet down onto the ground to gradually pause your movements as you placed your hand on the ground to give you more support.

“Who are you?” you asked in anger before standing up straight in a defensive position and you aimed the polearm’s blade downwards to the ground, leading the person to raise up what seemed to be a pair of tonfa’s like the ones Fushiguro had earlier during the event, only for them to be metal rather than wood.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” you queried once again, getting irritated at the fact that the person was just giving you the silent treatment which caused them to giggle slightly as your frustration.

“Isn’t that a warm welcome for someone that took care of you so dearly?” the person spoke with a soft tone, causing you to freeze up in shock after realising how familiar that tone was to you to which lead the instructor right in front of you to slowly remove their hood leading their hair to spill out as well as to slowly reveal their face to you under the light the tree could, causing you to let out a breath of shock as your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

“Mother?”

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cavvaje · 4 years ago

Text

Hearth and Rime | Ch. 1

Pairing: M!Eivor x Reader

Summary: Eivor has had a rough day and you make him feel better :)

Words: 1600~

Genre: Fluff, Comfort?

Warnings: Spoilers for end of Cent Arc! | Somewhat suggestive fade to black

Note: Still a bit new to writing fics, so sorry if its a bit rough around the edges!

I actually finished this in time for valentines but just kept editing it and being too nervous to actually post it? Then decided to retake all the photos lol...

This is also a continuation of the first fic I put up, BUT you don’t need to read it to understand (it was like 200 words). Here’s a link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The home is modest for its outwards appearance. According to Eivor, the last occupants were runaway Saxons, who fled the day after they saw him in the area. They didn’t leave much behind, but it’s serviceable.

“Smells good!” Eivor stands by a cooking pot in the corner, setting down the bright torch in his hand. He turns to you with a cheeky look.

“Here,” He says, untying his cloak. The Viking comes to you as you stand in front of the doorway. His cloak needs to go over, and so you squeeze your head through the hole. “This should help you warm up.”

Gentle arms reach around your shoulders, and instinctually, your arms begin to trace his waist to his back. Adrenaline surges in cold shivers: from your arms through to your spine. Your face is practically buried in the nook between his neck and shoulder. You hold each other a moment, checking off an imaginary checklist of things that make him real. His warmth, his scent, his breath...

A tight tug wakes you up; the cloak has been set, albeit loosely. He lets go of the embrace. Even as he leaves, the cloak maintains his warmth.

“It smells like blood…”

He chuckles lightly, “Does it now?... Surprise?” he flips his axe in one hand, starts drying the rainwater off the metal, then sets it down. He motions towards the steaming pot. “Can I dig in?”

You stare at him as he pulls off the bracers and his hidden blade. He looks back a moment later, puzzled.

“I missed you, Eivor.” You say, plainly.

“Ah…” he pulls you in for a proper hug this time; his arms hold you tight. “I missed you too.”

“Mmm… what’s bothering you Drengr?”

You feel the sigh heavily from the movement of his chest against yours. “Please, let me eat…”

“Of course! Sorry. Must’ve been a long trip...”

“No no, don’t be.” He lets go, but locks his eyes on yours, and gives a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll explain, I won’t be like Sigurd.”

“Like Sigurd?”

His weight falls heavy on the stool, as he grabs a bowl.

You pace towards him slowly, a hand gentle on his left shoulder. “...Did you find him?”

“Not exactly.”

You feel his rage beginning to simmer on your hand, but it sizzles down quickly. You wait for a few minutes as he ravages his stew, and then places the empty bowl down calmly and precisely.

“We found an arm.”

“Shit…”

“Aye, shit.”

He turns to you suddenly, his eyes focused. “Don’t tell the ravens. Please.” He scans your expression. “Can I trust you to this?”

You nod.

“..Thank you.” He sighs and slumps down onto the table.

You stand idly, unsure of how to proceed. The silence fills the room like a cursed fog.

“Perhaps we should talk more in the morning? After you’ve rested from your journey?” you perk up, sitting down next to him. Your hand moves to the Viking’s back reassuringly, and he arches to greet it. “For tonight, let me take care of you, ok?”

He stifles a small chuckle and looks at you earnestly. “That sounds great.”

You smile and get up from your seat. He follows, holds your hands, and leans in close. “Thank Freyja I found you…” His eyes meet yours. You put your hand up to his scarred cheek and… after a moment of hesitation, kiss him. He tastes like a paradise gritted by blood and steel, or maybe it’s the venison... A kiss that feels like a surging tide effortlessly enveloping you. His hands move to wrap around your waist and the back of your neck, and as you break the kiss, it moves back to fall on your cheek.

He lets out a satisfied breath and slowly removes his hands as well, instead moving them to hold yours. “I needed that.” His voice barely a whisper, yet still raspy and impassioned.

You coyly move away, tracing your fingers over his own as you leave. “Come… get comfy. Let me help you away with the stresses of your life, Wolf-Kissed.” You begin to move towards the other end of the room.

“Are you just telling me to take off my clothes, lover?” he returns, just as coy, but begins to remove his top anyway. His now shirtless figure is darkened against the light of the fire.

“And you? It’s only fair…” His voice and eyes gleam with a newfound playfulness.

“Ah… but my cloak is so heavy…”

He quickly moves to uncloak you, then slower to unclothe. His lightly calloused hands ‘accidentally’ feel your stomach and arms as you two connect in this growing heat. Both of you a little more exposed, you sit on the bearskin by the bed, absorbing each other’s presence.

“New scar?” A faded but deep red streak across the top of his wrist into the forearm. He smiles and shrugs. You feel it… still a bit fresh. “It looks good on you.”

He traces it with his other hand in empty thought, while you grab a nearby satchel containing medicinal herbs. He tries his best not to wince as you apply your treatment... he doesn’t wince once. He’s simply watching you in admiration.

“What’s that look for? Something wrong?” You ask, knowing the answer.

"You are stunning. Like a painting, framed in a lantern-lit gold. In comparison to you, even its fire seems dull and cold...”

You shove his shoulder playfully and he laughs, but his eyes stay on you to look for your smile, and he finds it, blushing. He looks proud of himself. Bastard.

You get behind him and slowly begin to unbraid his hair. It’s matted in parts, likely from blood and dirt. You move him to an empty spot in the room and begin to wash his hair with a nearby water basin, trying not to get him too wet...

“Mmph, you treat me too well…” He mumbles.

“Only what you deserve, and well, much more than just this,”

“...Why’d you say that?” his voice is sweet and innocent. You laugh in surprise.

“What? Eivor, you’re the leader of our clan! At least until Sigurd comes back...” You watch as his head swoops down in thought. You place your hand on his shoulder cautiously. “Hey… what’s this about?”

He doesn’t respond, and you continue to work through his hair. Eventually, though, you decide to break the silence.

“Why exactly… did you want to meet away from Ravensthorpe?”

You think back to the letter you got, Synin being a talented messenger bird. He never mentioned why you were to meet here, except that he wanted to meet first for a romantic getaway before he was whisked off elsewhere. At first, that was enough, but now...

“I just wanted to see you, is that too much to ask for?” he retorted.

“Eivor…”

“Fine. Why do you think I asked then?”

You pause. “Honestly, I thought you were gonna have a private issue that needed taking care of, one that needs my particular skill set…”

He looks at you with wild eyes and a smile about to be broken into laughter. “Well! I suppose that too!” he laughs.

“What? No! I mean if you needed someone, you know...” You imitate a neck being sliced. He laughs again. You slap his shoulder.

His laugh slowly trickles out, and he returns to his thousand-yard stare after a moment, but his mouth moves. “I think… I just needed a break from it all. Just for a moment.” He looks back at you. “With you.”

…You resist the urge to defuse the moment and hug him tightly from behind. “Well if you need anything else, I’m all ears.”

He shakes his head and gives a quick kiss on your cheek. “Let’s save that for tomorrow...”

He pauses.

"Because tonight..." He turns to you and puts his arms over your shoulders. His face slowly approaches yours— and you make eye contact, your face clearly anticipating the worst. He nearly laughs but quickly turns to whisper into your ear. "I have other plans..." he smiles, and lightly nibbles on your earlobe, pulling it ever so slightly. This is not what you meant by ‘all ears’. The actual sensation is nice enough, but the sudden waves of euphoria that washes through your headspace is what makes you a little dizzy.

"H-hey, I'm nearly done with your hair..." You manage to say, barely. He smiles both warm yet seductive, then turns around to let you finish.

As you finish up with his hair, he gives you a sweet look followed by a grateful kiss. It was a... mostly calming activity. As you get up, he childishly hops on the fur bed with a thud. You turn away to tidy up. However, a shuffling sound catches your attention.

He’s striking a pose... one eyebrow raised. He extends forward his hand and winks at you.

“Come… play with your Drengr, love…” he recites dramatically.

You stare at him, incredulous, then laugh in protest when he grabs your arm. He yanks you in... you fall, barely lit by the low lantern light, into your love dance.

Sleeping next to him is a warmth you always regret not cherishing more. Just his presence makes this cold and dangerous land feel safe. His fingers trace your arm ever so slightly— not enough to wake you, but just enough to send tingles rushing through to your brain. You return the favor and he smiles surprised, but welcome in his half-sleep.

…Time passes immeasurably through the night, as it always does. So when all you feel is a vacuum of cold air rushing in, you aren't sure what time it is. You try to open your eyes... you see him, barely.

But your eyelids hang heavy, and you fall back asleep.

Note: haha get it “barely” I hope this was ok and the warnings+genre were accurate! I didn’t wanna put earlobe nibbling as a warning so lmao. Also I hate small cottages and I’m never taking photos in them again.

If anyone has any advice/feedback I’d actually really love to hear it! Especially about how to make Eivor’s voice feel more accurate, or if the Reader character has too much personality. No pressure though!

#woo its done #writing things is kind of really fulfilling cuz its actually romantic #ac valhalla #ac valhalla fanfiction #m!eivor x reader #m!eivor #male eivor #eivor #pov fanfiction #male eivor x reader #eivor x reader #c:m

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mrsgiovanna · 4 years ago

Text

A series of Firsts - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A cute Valentines day scenario with husband Giogio, nsfw-ish toward the end, just something that's been on my mind for a little while. Cut for length🥺💭❤️

Word count: 2318

Everything that could have gone wrong had inevitably gone wrong. It was the first Valentines day that you and your beloved would be spending together as a married couple, so needless to say, you wanted to make it a tiny bit more noteworthy than the usual extravagant outings you’ve grown accustomed to. You knew that things like this weren’t really important, but blamed your sentimental self for wanting to commemorate each “first” event in your first year of wedded life. As luck would have it though, every single one of your plans would be foiled, however, in retrospect, your end goal would actually be achieved.

There was still a chill in the February air, but it was a beautiful sunny day nonetheless. Giorno had already left by the time your sleep had broken, but you had woken up to a beautiful red rose and a small heart shaped chocolate on his pillow with a simple note in his handwriting. You smiled when you read the note, three simple words, but it meant more to you than anything. You lazed about in bed for a while, thinking about all the things you wanted to do today. The villa was quiet, save for the few guards that Giorno would not compromise on, you had given most of his other staff the weekend off, wanting it to just be the two of you. Or so you’d thought…

The spanner foiling this plan, came in the form of some important conference call with an associate from the Speedwagon foundation. Well, calling him an “associate” might be a bit cold, seeing that it was Giorno’s relative, Jotaro Kujo, who wanted to speak to him himself. Giorno knew it must have been something very important for Jotaro to reach out to him of all people given the circumstances and how suspicious he was in the beginning. So off he went, you presumed to his study, to discuss whatever issue was plaguing Jotaro. Deciding it was time to get out of bed, you quickly showered and threw on something comfortable, knowing you were going to put on a knock out outfit later on. No sooner had you stepped out of the master bedroom did you hear a loud bang, and felt something whizzing past you, missing your face by a hair’s breath. Being immediately on guard, you summoned your stand ready to attack the enemy that had infiltrated your home when you heard the familiar whining of Mista’s sex pistols…

“Mistaaaaa, he’s not here, can we go eat now?”

“Well good morning to you too number 5,” you said to the miniscule stand, who started to hide himself in your hair to escape the harassment from number 3.

“Awww has Mista has been starving you guys again? How awful, lets go find you guys something to eat,” you teased, earning an annoyed look from the gunslinger, to which he retorted, “Excuse me, they’re well fed and have nothing to complain about!”

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you asked Mista what brought him to the villa this early in the morning. You were hoping against your better judgment that it wasn’t anything too serious, but by the time Mista was done relaying his report about the unrest in some of the outlying areas, you knew it had to be nipped in the bud before it gained momentum. Wanting to feed the tiny gremlins, but being unsure of what they would eat in the morning, you set up some cured meats, fruits, nuts and some warmed cornetto on a platter.

The delicious smell of warm, buttery pastry had whet your appetite as well, so you decided to warm up more pastries for you and Mista and started making cappuccinos for the both of you. By this point you and Mista had been around each other for long enough and had been through so much together, that the bond felt more familial than anything else.

Setting down the food in front of you and Mista, the facts of his report were still playing on your mind.

“So where is Giorno anyway? I thought he’d taken some time off, which is why I came straight here,” asked Mista as he bit off a piece of his strawberry preserve filled croissant.

“He’s in the middle of an important conference call, he might be a while… what do you think about what’s happening in in the new territories? Do you think we can handle the situation among ourselves?”

Perplexed by your question, Mista thought for a while before answering. “I suppose they aren’t the strongest stand users, between you, Fugo and myself, we should be able to take them out if the need arises… listen, I don’t like where you’re going with this,”

It was all the confirmation you needed as you spoke with determination, “Let’s go then, if we can end this before it has a chance to blow up then we should do it. Call Fugo, I’m sure he’ll be willing to go with us, I’ll text Gio to let him know.” It was the first time you’d taken a bold decision like that without so much as consulting with Giorno… and just like that, you had thrown the second spanner in the works without even knowing it, because what should have taken a couple of hours had ended up taking the better part of the day.

“I wonder…. where could she be… ” mused Giorno as he walked around the villa looking for you. The conference call had taken longer than expected so he sought you out to make it up to you, but you were nowhere to be found. Deciding to call you, he’d come across the text message you’d sent him just before you left. His eyes darkened as he tried to call you.

“Oh hi Gio, are you okay? We’re kinda in the middle of something here,” you answered, trying to sound unfazed despite the ruckus taking place behind you.

“Cara, how can you just rush off into a dangerous situation like this? I’m very upset with you, come back here immediately,”

You felt very guilty when he still addressed you with his usual kindness despite how angry he sounded.

“Gio, I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything when we get back, it will be over soon I promise,” you say, trying to placate both his temper and your own feelings.

“You guys have an hour to come back, failing which, I’ll have to come there myself. Honestly, you’re lucky I love you as much as I do, amore…” with that Giorno ended the call and went back to his study, hoping that you guys would be okay.

Upon arriving at Giorno’s study, you found him to be the picture of serenity, quietly working at his desk with some soft music playing in the background. He was relieved to see that you three delinquents were okay, most of all, you- his wife, who unfortunately was the biggest troublemaker of the lot, however he didn’t let that relief show on his face…

Just as Mista was about to speak, Giorno raised his hand to silence him,

“Did everything work out as expected in your marvelous misadventure?”

“you could say so… the job is done”

“is anyone hurt?”

“no, everyone’s alright,”

“then go home, it’s been a long day,” sensing everyone’s surprise, Giorno explained himself further.

“I trust you all, I want to make that clear… but for God’s sake, at least 1 person needs to be the voice of reason, nonetheless, I’m glad everything worked out for the best, just think before wildly rushing out next time,”

Mista and Fugo left the office leaving you alone with Giorno. You waited to hear the little electronic beep that the door made when it locked before you gently lowered yourself into Giorno’s strong arms, settling down comfortably in his lap.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you tesoro… you have so much to do, I just wanted to share some of the burden with you,”

“I know bella, I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, I was just worried, I’d like to keep you away from these things as much as possible,”

“I can hold my own, you know,”

“I know bella, but you shouldn’t have to,” replied Giorno, lazily weaving his fingers through your hair. He drew your head closer for a kiss, starting off gentle, growing ever more passionate until you both stopped yourselves.

“Come amore mio, there isn’t a lot of time left, you have to get ready for our date, remember?”

Reluctantly, you got off his lap and left him with a feather light kiss to his temple.

After a long while of titivating with your look, you made your way back to Giorno’s study, finding him dreamily admiring the final seconds of the winter sunset. The fading golden light made his hair shine like spun gold and drew out the various jeweled specks of his eyes. He turns towards you, and his expression changes entirely, as if time itself had stood still.

“What do you think?” you ask, doing a little twirl and ending off in a pose, you giggle at your gesture.

“Sei cosi bella, you’re absolutely breathtaking amore mio,” Giorno says as he extends his arm to you, “are you ready to go?”

You smile sweetly and link your arm through his, just as you’re about to leave, the electricity cuts out.

No matter, you both wait patiently, expecting the generator to kick in at any moment, but nothing happens. Giorno’s study is more akin to a bunker, an impenetrable fortress built with the intention of keeping you both safe if the need ever arose. Grabbing his cellphone, Giorno calls one of the guards and asks him to check out the problem, as you are effectively stuck until you can get electricity back into the mechanism of the door.

You tinkered around the draws and cupboards, and managed to find all the aromatherapy candles and burners you got your husband to help him relax, you would have been annoyed that they were buried away if you weren’t as relieved as you were. It was quickly getting dark, and without the twinkling lights of the skyline, the room was becoming evermore difficult to navigate. After lighting up a considerable amount of the candles, you had to admit that the atmosphere was quite romantic.

“Well, they’ve found the problem, but can’t say how long it will take to fix, I could always try to use GE to break us out,”

“Break us out and do what my love? It looks like whole city is out, we’re probably in the safest place there is, come on, relax, we’ll just wait it out,” you reply as you pull him over to the couch. “see, this is nice right?” you say as you take your usual spot in his arms.

“Of course cara, I’m sorry, you’ve been patient with me recently, I know I’ve been very busy, so I just wanted to spoil you a bit,” Giorno’s voice was so gentle as he spoke, his fingers tracing circles onto your arm.

You were relieved as you felt him relax under your embrace, “for what it’s worth, happy Valentines day tesoro, I know things didn’t go according to anyone’s plan, but I’m still happy right here,” you utter, burying your face into the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Happy Valentine’s day Amore mio, at least we’ll never forget this, and besides we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

The temperature started to drop the later it got, so Giorno decided to make use of his fireplace to make sure you didn’t get too cold, your slinky little evening dress offered little protection from the cold, not that he was complaining, it just meant that you would snuggle up closer to him. A yearning stirred in him when he looked back at you, bundled up in his large coat on the couch, you just looked so beautiful, the candlelight danced about in your eyes and your smile was the purest he’d ever seen.

“Are you okay bella? The room should warm up in a few moments. Ah, I know what would speed up the process… I recently acquired a very impressive bottle of wine…” mused Giorno as he found the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet.

“Gio, isn’t that an insanely expensive bottle?”

“I’d hope so, it’s the 1992 vintage, imagine, we were just kids when this was made” he quipped, genuinely excited to crack open the extravagant alcohol.

“I thought you’d save something like that for a huge milestone like the birth of our first child or something of that magnitude. I just know how pricey it is,”

“Ah the birth of our child… conception of our child, it’s all the same”

Perplexed you asked, “caro, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying bella, is that we’re freezing, the night is young and all we have for entertainment is each other’s wonderful company, whatever happens from here on out is up to the gods of fate, salute,”

And with a clink of your glasses and a gaze into each other’s eyes, you both took a sip of the wine. There was something irresistible about the way Giorno’s eyes glinted in the soft lighting. With a confident smirk, he drew you in for a passionate kiss, giving his hands permission to explore your beautiful body, drawing out those pretty sounds and lustful expressions that only he had the privilege of observing. Giorno was an intuitive lover, and you completely surrendered yourself to him. You both spent the rest of the night reveling in each other’s beauty and affection.

With arms and legs intertwined lovingly, breathing even and peaceful, you both slept blissfully unaware of the plans the mischievous gods of fate had in store for you.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna #don giovanna #don giorno #giorno #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #valentines day #jojo's bizarre adventure #giogio #my writing #jjba giorno #jjba fluff #jjba vento aureo #n/sfw

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sideblog-666-thousand · 4 years ago

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Euronymous Interview in Decibel of Death, ‘87. English Translation. Ft. Euronymous’ depraved torture fantasies involving Coca-Cola.

‘Decibel of Death’ was a French fanzine from the 80s. It’s first issue was released in ‘86, and by the summer of ‘87, it switched over from French to English-language. This has been my favourite interview of Euronymous for a long time now, so I decided I’d translate it to English so that other, non-francophone, people could enjoy it too. This issue in particular is from February of ‘87, and was their fourth issue overall.

I’ll add a link to where you can find this, and other D.O.D scans, below. If anybody wants me to translate more French, or Russian, interviews, feel free to PM me.

Note: NDLR is the editor’s notes. Any commentary or context by me will be in bold and in parenthesis, so feel free to totally ignore it. If something is between “« »” it’s because it was already written in English to begin with.

Disclaimer: if some of the sentences sound like the energizer bunny is hooked on an iv rig full of pure meth, don’t blame me, I did my best. Take it up with Euronymous himself. Also, I’m not excusing Euronymous’ poor behaviour, I’m just saying his poor behaviour is kind of entertaining.

Without further ado...

D.O.D: And once again, here’s Norwegian Mayhem. If you remember, we presented them to you back in the May issue of D.O.D. Since then, they released a new demo titled “Death Crush”!! Because of this event, we decided to ask the guitarist of this rather sinister band a few questions.

D.O.D: Okay, there’s been more than a few line-up changes in Mayhem. Can you tell us what the current one is?

Euro: Alright, there’s me on guitars, Manheim on battery, Necro-butcher on drums, and our session vocalist, Maniac.

D.O.D: And what is the medium age of the group?

Euro: We are all 18 years old.

D.O.D: How long has Mayhem been around for?

Euro: Mayhem has been around since August of ‘84 with this line-up, before that, I played in another shitty metal group that was also called Mayhem. The other members also played in a crappy band before we all met.

D.O.D: How would you describe your music?

Euro: Ah, well, it’s like a wall of sound played at extreme speed all mixed with the sound of a chainsaw!!

D.O.D: In your opinion, who are the biggest posers on this planet?

Euro: That definitely has to be the Swedish group ‘Europe’. «Fuck them!!» I hate this band!!

D.O.D: Ha ha, what would you like to do to make them suffer?

(This is the exact moment where the interviewers realize that Euronymous is literally fucking insane. The editor censors some of the things Euronymous says because he has a very vulgar manner of speaking, so, brace yourselves. To make it abundantly clear— I didn’t censor any of this, if it was me, I’d let him continue swearing ‘til next year if he wanted to. Take it up with D.O.D!)

Euro: First of all, I’d cut them and make them eat their own (bleep)!! Then, I’ll fuck them in the ass with an empty bottle of Coke, and if they’re still alive somehow, I’ll drown them in their own piss!! (NDLR: I’d do the same to a few guys in Germany and Switzerland!!) But all of this is reserved for their guitarist, drummer and bassist, I have a far crueler torture for their singer, for him, I’m simply going to break his mirror and steal his perfume!! Haaaaafuckinghah!!! (NDLR: ahahahaha, this is so much fun!!)

D.O.D: Okay, Euronymous, onto more serious topics, who composes the most in Mayhem?

Euro: It’s me and Necro, but sometimes Manheim comes up with good riffs, he actually wrote most of P.F.A (Pure Fucking Armageddon)

D.O.D: I believe thrashers reacted pretty well to your first demo, right?

Euro: Despite the zero sound of this demo. It's true that it's actually the hardcore thrashers that appreciated it, although it was the others hating it that gave us an enormous promotion like with 'Metal Forces'.

D.O.D: Has there been groups that have influenced you?

Euro: Of course, early Venom has really inspired us, although we don’t sound like them in any way. We’re also influenced by bands like Hellhammer and Sodom.

D.O.D: Mayhem is a common band name, what do you think of other Mayhem (such as NYC Mayhem, Mayhem (WC), Mayhem (Oregon))?

Euro: NYC Mayhem* are excellent, I adore them! (NDLR: me too!!) and they call themselves NYC Mayhem. But as for the other Mayhems, they stink, «fuckin’ shit», like the Mayhem that’s on Metal Massacre VI*, they really stink, their music isn’t destructive like ours is at all, they don’t deserve this name, I hate them!!

D.O.D: I heard you guys played a show, how did that go?

Euro: It was really «cool», it was at a small rock festival that had around 3-400 «discofucks» (NDLR: this is the censored translation) and when we went on stage with our first session vocalist “Messiah”, we broke a bass over their mouths!! We gave these idiots hell!! Ha ha!! (I’ll link the show he’s referring to below)

D.O.D: And how did your other gigs go?

Euro: For now this has been our only show!! And we don’t know how the crowds will react at the prospect of future gigs.

D.O.D: Fair. Since we’re talking about future gigs, what will those be like?

Euro: They’ll be full of occult things, we’ll play in complete darkness and there’ll be red blood spots, chandeliers, smoke, and pig heads on stakes, it’ll be totally thrashing!!

D.O.D: How’s the Norwegian thrash scene? It’s pretty dull, no?

Euro: Right now, «it sucks», there’s no audience, but it seems to be going in the right direction with bands like Vomit*, Septic Cunts, Decay Lust, and Flowers in The Dustbin.

D.O.D: And what kind of things are your lyrics about?

Euro: depravity, like tearing someone’s (bleep), eating worms, and all those fine things!!

D.O.D: What are your favourite bands?

Euro: Really hard question, there’s so many good bands coming out but I think the bands I like the most are old Venom, Deathchamber, Sodom, Necrophagia, Destruction, Death, Kreator, Poison. (No, not THAT Poison)

D.O.D: Do you ever listen to hardcore?

Euro: «Yeah» I like Chaotic Discord, Septic Death, UK Subs, and others. It hasn’t been that long since I went to see Disorder and it was awesome!!

D.O.D: Are you considering going on tour?

Euro: No, not exactly. But soon we’ll play at a Norwegian thrash festival. We’ll also play at a thrash festival in Copenhagen, and probably do a few shows with Kreator/Necrophagia in ‘87.

(No, this isn’t a typo on my end, it actually says ‘87. There’s two reasons why this might be the case. One, it could be an error on the part of the editor, who deserves an interview of his own, or two, it could be an error by Euronymous himself since the interview might have been conducted in January. Euronymous could have mixed the years up as one sometimes does. However, ‘Death Crush’, the demo, actually came out in March of ‘87. What the interviewer and Euronymous are referring to as ‘Death Crush’ is likely ‘Death Rehearsal’, which is exactly what it sounds like, and was taped back January of ‘87.)

D.O.D: I heard you guys are recording a new demo, is it ready?

Euro: We just entered the studio to record the second “Death Crush” demo, but at the moment, we only have three songs. I’m also unsure of whether or not we’ll have enough money to record anything else, and the vocals still haven’t been put to music!!

D.O.D: There’s some rumours that you guys were contacted by certain record labels, is this true?

Euro: It’s true, we got a letter from Axe killer records saying that they were interested in us but they never listened to our music and I also sent them our demo tape but I don’t believe we’ll be receiving any letters from them now!!

D.O.D: Do you have anything to add?

Euro: Of course, «fucking ARGHHHH!!»

There, that’s all :)

If you’re interested in some of the asterisks I put in, here they are in order of their appearances:

*Unlike most of the bands Euronymous named in this interview, NYC Mayhem (and later as Straight Ahead) never released more than a few demo. They were a straight edge band from, you guessed it, NYC— Queens to be exact. Despite never releasing a full album, their sound inspired some grindcore and death metal bands, notably Carcass. They were also straight edge, which makes Euronymous’ mental breakdown over the Mayhem that was on Metal Massacre very, very ironic. Especially considering he was pretty straight edge himself, especially back in 1987– outside of maybe smoking some pot.

Here is their 1985 demo, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3geR1JbY4

*Metal Massacre is a series of compilation albums starting in 1982, released by Metal Blade records. Typically, these were independent and unsigned bands. Some notable ones include Metallica on the first edition with ‘Hit the lights’. Slayer in ‘83 with ‘Aggressive Perfector’. The ‘84 edition had Voivod, Overkill, and Hellhammer.

The one which Euronymous is referring to, however, is the one from ‘85. Here it is, the timestamp is 14:19 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HqwfsLvLvuY

It’s really not that bad— certainly not worth the double exclamation points.

*If you don’t know who Vomit are, you must not know much about early Mayhem. They were another thrash band who shared rehearsal space with Mayhem. Torben Grue and Kittil Kittilsen (what a sad fucking name) were also ‘in’ Mayhem at some point. Kittil once shaved off his eyebrow, but I don’t know why. Here is a picture of the dork:

The show Euronymous is talking about: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mjay2Lmj9C8 yes, this is the show where Euronymous flashes his ass. I think it’s funny because he talks big but he seemed very hesitant to do it, and practically ducked backstage afterwards. Necro, on the other hand, was very proud to have broken his bass.

Well, that’s all I have. If you read this far, I hope you enjoyed the additional notes I left. Outside of a few more interviews of Mayhem, I also have a few obscure Emperor interviews that were posted to the internet in late 90s. There’s an especially funny one where Faust is allowed to interview Ihsahn and Samoth from prison. He’s sarcastic the entire time, refers to the readers as ‘morons’ and proclaims everyone should all die in a nuclear war with the same energy you cross yourself with. Overall, it’s a funny read. I also have one where he interviews Varg, and Euronymous (separately) for his own ‘zine back in the early 90s. Actually— I have A LOT of interviews of Faust for some reason, including two where he’s actually on camera. I might post them if I feel like it, or if somebody wants them. Is anyone here an especially big fan of Faust?

Last but not least, here is the link to the ‘zine:

http://france.metal.museum.free.fr/revues/fanzines/decibel_of_death/04/page_03.htm

#euronymous #mayhem #interview #black metal #true norwegian black metal #I typed this out so it’s mine #Euronymous interview #gee I really hope nobody else posted a translation of this because it took forever #can we make haaafuckinghah a thing?

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crystalirises · 4 years ago

Text

NPC Fundy AU

Essentially, Fundy is not part of the main canon. He's just a person living within the SMP. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't have any ties to the people within canon...

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/79557208

His papa had promised him that he’d be back.

That was five years ago. Now, there was but a rotting cottage behind him and a god with an offer before him. Fundy glanced down at the god’s open hands, the paleness of their gloves reminded him of pure white snow. Their head was spherical, not quite a face but he could make out an X and D, which looked like they were perpetually joyful. He hadn’t felt that happy in a long, long time. The god had followed him from the river that he had been fishing from, whispering sweet words into his ears, promises of a better life in a better world. Fundy couldn’t trust them, couldn’t trust in promises. Promises were meant to be broken, as his papa had so demonstrated.

No. He wouldn’t trust in the god’s promises. What he wanted was a deal.

The god was surprised at the little fox’s audacity, but they let out a giggle, agreeing to the proposition. It wasn’t an issue to them anyway. So the god asked what the boy wanted, expecting the usual wish of treasure beyond any man’s wildest imagination. Yet the answer shocked them. For the boy had asked to be let into their world, in exchange for his memories. Not quite the deal. Not one that they found to be fair. But if that is what the boy wanted, then they shall agree to it.

Though Fundy did intervene before the deal was to be set. He wanted to leave a letter.

The god let him, after all, it would be the last act he’d do in this life.

Fundy had rushed back into the home that he’d known for most of his life. He had been eight when his father had left, promising a quick return and a gift for Fundy once he came back. He waited through all five springs. He waited through all five summers. He waited through all five autumns. He waited through all of the five winters, when all he could do was throw in scraps of wood and clothing into the fireplace to keep himself warm and chewed on grass to keep himself alive, but his papa never came back. So, he picked up a pen and paper, and began to write:

‘Papa… Wilbur, something interesting happened today. A god approached me today, and asked if I wanted to go with them. I think I will. I miss you, everyday. But I think it’s time for me to go. I pray that you find this letter, and that you may be happy knowing that I am in a better place.

I’ll always I love Love you Goodbye.’

He left the letter on the table, trusting that it would stay and not be lost to the wind. Fundy rushed back to the god, whose hand had reached out to hold his. And off they went to the Essempy.

---

When he first met General Wilbur Soot, his first thought was that the man was charming. Fundy had been working on one of his many inventions when someone had chanced upon his house. He opened it to find a man in a blue uniform. He need not look at the flag that was finely stitched onto the man’s jacket. Everyone within the Essempy had heard of the General of L’Manburg.

Most had called him persuasive and revolutionary. Others called him a lunatic and a hopeless dreamer. Fundy had neither opinion, for he had no care towards the coming L’Manberg-Essempian War. He knew that L’Manburg was short on supplies and on men, and the general of a losing country could only be at his doorstep for one particular purpose. Fundy had expected many promises to be made, anything to get another soldier in L’Manburg’s ranks.

He had not expected to be pulled into a nearly suffocating hug.

It took a while for him to free himself from the man’s grasp. Still, the man held onto him.

At least the promises had been proposed, like he’d expected them to be. The General promised freedom, a life away from tyranny. While the man continued on with his calculated rambling, Fundy couldn’t help but listen, a part of him wondering why this scene felt so familiar. Fundy standing before a man on the precipice of making history while continuously staring out from the safety of his den. The man laid a hand on his cheek, crocodile tears flowing past his cheeks.

The general then promised his safety, and Fundy couldn’t help but feel like the man hadn’t promised anyone else that. Yet he was not the type of person to trust in promises. This man knew the game of charm and wit, knew the proper words to sway people to his side. Fundy would not have it. He was content to live his days in the sereneness and simplicity of his home. Besides, he’d heard the rumors, heard of the masked man that ruled over the lands of the Essempy. The General of L’Manburg may not fear Dream’s retribution, but Fundy sure did fear his punishment.

In truth, the promises felt like a luren’s lure. Ones that would lead him to his own demise.

The man still stood before him, crying out to a stranger who did not know him. Fundy let him cry, for there was nothing wrong in that. The general may be a siren, but he was still a man. Fundy would give him this moment of weakness, though he knew not of what the man cried for.

It was a pity really, moving though his promises may be, Fundy did not believe in promises.

Fundy smiled, and declined to join L’Manburg’s side.

---

When he first meets President Wilbur Soot, he is genuinely surprised to find the man alive, albeit down to two lives. He hadn’t meant to go near L’Manburg, hadn’t even known where it was, but he’d spotted the president. Well, the president spotted him. The man had quickly rushed after him, the same charming smile on the man’s face while he pulled Fundy deeper into the country.

He held on tightly to the basket of pastries on his arm, forcing down his irritation while the man gave him an extensive and thorough tour of the nation. The president seemed particularly fond of the blackstone walls that surrounded L’Manburg, stating that they were built for his beloved son.

Fundy nodded along, letting the man tell him tales of the nation he and his brothers had fought so hard for, trying to quell his rising curiosity from getting the better of him. No one had ever mentioned that the president had a son, only two brothers. The president continued to pull him along, introducing him to a few residents that walked by them. A few of the people’s faces were familiar to him, and Fundy was quite surprised to find former Essempians within L’Manburg.

Their little walk finally came to a lull by the time they reached a van… with a burning hot dog on top of it. Fundy averted his gaze, coughing down a chuckle at the oddity of such a vehicle.

“How do you like our nation so far?”

Odd. The president’s wording of the question felt too personal.

“A good nation, I suppose.” Fundy glanced around, pursing his lips together. The ruler of the Essempy would not take this transgression lightly, yet these people walked around like they were finally free. He shook his head at the falsities. He glanced over at Wilbur, taking in the details that people did not wish to see so they chose not to see. This man was ambitious. A charming and ambitious man. Fundy could only hope the ambition didn’t fall into obsession. “L’Manburg seems to be thriving. I suppose congratulations are in order. You won the war, how impressive.”

“It is. We won. We have independence!” The man clasped a hand around his shoulders, nearly jostling the pastries off the basket. He tried to give the president a smile, happy for the man but he did want to get home. He would also rather not think about how the man kept wording his statements so personally. Fundy moved away from the president, taking a small step back to show that he was leaving. The man’s eyes seemed to widen. “You have a home here, Fundy.”

He nods in understanding, an awkward smile showing on his face.

Fundy declines the president's offer.

---

When he first meets the exiled ex-President Wilbur Soot, he nearly slams the door on the man’s face. The man, for lack of a better description, looked like shit. It was the dead of night when the man had come to visit him, the scent of gunpowder clinging to the man. Fundy, despite his better judgment, invited the man in for a midnight cup of tea. It felt odd to be in the man’s presence. He didn’t feel safe around him, didn’t feel like the man was the same man he’d been before. Fundy glanced up, nearly jumping once he realized that Wilbur hadn’t stopped staring at him at all.

“You hate me.” The man’s words were a surprise. His ears flicked up, his tail wrapping around his waist. Fundy hadn’t the faintest idea where the man had gotten that idea. Wilbur hadn’t made a move to grab at his teacup, glaring at it like it was poisoned. “No… you must despise me.”

“Wilbur, I don’t know you enough to hate you.”

“That’s my fault, isn’t it?” The man suddenly stood up, grabbing the tea cup before smashing it against the ground. Fundy flinched, arms wrapping around himself in fear that Wilbur might turn his attention to him. He wasn’t much of a fighter. Luckily, the man fell into a tired rant of his miserable life. Fundy couldn’t understand a single word, but he could hear the pain in Wilbur’s voice, the regret. “This whole shitshow. It’s my fucking fault. Everything I care about is gone!”

“I— Wil…” Fundy rose from his seat, mindful not to step on the shards of glass on the floor. He’d have to clean that in the morning. He laid a gentle hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, shaking him back to reality. “You were a great general once. You can get your nation back. I know you can.”

“THAT DAMNED NATION IS FUCKING GONE! IT’S BEEN GONE SINCE THAT FUCKING TRAITOR LED US TO THEIR DEATHS! … It’s been gone since you told me you wouldn’t live within our nation’s walls…” Wilbur sniffled, slamming a hand against the table. Fundy tried to ignore the last statement. He had no idea why Wilbur was stating such an accusation, but he could only imagine why. Perhaps the man wasn’t even seeing him. “L’Manburg is gone. The idea of that nation never even left my imagination. How could it when the reason I founded it for wasn’t even with me? That nation has to go, my little champion.”

He tried not to flinch when the man suddenly embraced him.

Fundy couldn’t help but lean in, wondering if this was how it felt to have a parent.

Really… He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear about Wilbur’s death a few weeks later.

Still… he couldn’t help but mourn for the man anyway.

---

When he first meets Ghostbur, the ghost insists that he stay with Fundy.

He even brought along a friend, Friend the Sheep.

The others - Wilbur’s friends and family - had glared at him in resentment, except for a few who had an understanding look in their eyes. They seemed to agree, most reluctantly, that Ghostbur should stay with him. Fundy found that quite odd, but they had insisted - some desperately and others threateningly - that Ghostbur stay with him. He couldn��t do much since the ghost had chosen to barge into his den everytime he had the chance to. Fundy found it… endearing.

Although… he wished the ghost wasn’t so… clingy. Fundy could barely breathe around him.

Ghostbur was cold, not personality-wise but physically. He had no idea of space, always inserting himself into every little detail of Fundy’s life. Worst still, the ghost treated him like he was a helpless child, even once trying to carry him up into his arms like he had the strength to do so. Fundy was eighteen. The ghost insisted on always hugging him, calling him ‘his little champion’ and every other petname that he could think of. At first, it had been nice… to be wanted by someone in such a way, but overtime, it became too overbearing for him to handle.

Yet each time he looked into those broken dark eyes, he couldn’t help but sigh and let the ghost do what he wanted to do. Ghostbur was imagining him for someone else, and everyone expected him to help the ghost remember. If this was the cure, then he’d gladly go on with the charade.

It’s what he would want anyone to do for him… help him remember.

He spends most of his mornings tending to his farm with Ghostbur, the ghost either singing a little song with his guitar or telling tales of the life that he could remember. In the afternoons, they would go over to New L’Manburg and fish with Philza, Ghostbur’s dad who seemed all too guilty to be around Ghostbur. In the nighttime, he would either have tea with the ghost who would be reading in the corner of their shared home or Ghostbur would pull him outside and they would make Chinese lanterns. Fundy found that he liked those moments with Ghostbur the most.

It was an odd companionship, but Fundy found himself feeling less alone with the ghost. Though he knew that the friendship wouldn’t last long. In the end, Fundy was nothing but a stranger.

When Tommy was exiled, Ghostbur followed after him.

Huh… Maybe Tommy was Wilbur’s son?

---

He met him again. The real him. The live version.

Fundy stood at his den’s open doorway, staring up at the man who crawled his way out of hell.

He heard the rumors.

He didn’t think a man could ever cheat death. But then…

Did he expect anything less from Wilbur Soot?

The man that stood before him, frightened him.

This man didn’t have the general’s charm that made Fundy trust him.

This man didn’t have the president’s hospitality that made Fundy like him.

This man didn’t have the exile’s desperation that Fundy felt sorry for.

This man didn’t have Ghostbur’s amnesia, which Fundy sympathized with him for.

This man was…

Fundy wasn’t sure.

He was bolder. That’s how Fundy would describe him.

He had grinned widely at Fundy, pulled him close with the intent to never let go.

He called him his little champion.

He called him son.

And when the man reached for his hand and asked Fundy to go with him.

Fundy said yes.

He wasn’t sure what the man would have done…

If he’d said no.

#fundy #wilbur soot #dream smp #dream smp fanfic

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