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sk1fanfiction · 4 years ago

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the many faces of tom riddle, part 1

-no hate (this is merely my humble opinion) but i strongly dislike tom hughes as tom riddle, and here’s why-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

Just personally, this fancast induces a lot of cognitive dissonance for me, but this is the first time I’ve been able to sit down and articulate properly why it always throws me for a loop.

Now, does he fit the visual/aesthetic archetype?

Yes. I understand completely why people like this fancast. We know that he is studious, intellectual, and (at the time people generally fancast him for) involved in the criminal underground, and he more-or-less fits the physical description.

And, to be clear, it’s not that I don’t think Tom Hughes could play Tom Riddle, it’s that I don’t think the character he plays in the fancasts is a close enough approximation of Tom Riddle.

For me, herein lies the issue.

Tom Riddle’s character is all about the emotions bubbling under the surface. He’s a disaster waiting to happen -- he’s angry, he’s lonely, he wants revenge, he feels empty and hopeless and desperate, he’s irrational...

Not sure what movie/show the Tom Hughes clips come from, but the character he plays isn’t that at all. the character he plays is very self-possessed, poised, self-aware. Reflective. Remorseful (there are clips of him crying when/after he shoots someone). Introspective.

That, to me, is not Tom Riddle at all.

Yes, he does deal with moral conflict, but it’s never at the forefront of his mind. It’s not something he’s constantly grappling with. He doesn’t really... brood in this Hamlet-esque way.

Tom doesn’t think. Sure, he plans, he ruminates, he rationalizes a posteriori. But he’s very unaware of himself (in fact, it’s one of his fatal flaws). It’s not that he doesn’t have emotions; just that his internal state is a mystery most of the time.

He doesn’t connect with his own emotions; he is completely estranged from them. Tom cannot tell you whether he is happy or sad (not just because of his pride). He keeps his emotions and moral compass (which are highly uncomfortable things), in a locked little box, swallows the key, and disregards them. And yet, this character connects so deeply with his emotions that even the audience can see exactly what he’s going through.

(There’s an openness -- an ease of vulnerability -- that Tom Riddle doesn’t have)

The thing about Tom, is that he hates himself just as much as he hates everyone around him. Creating Horcruxes to save himself from death is not an act of self-love, or even narcissism to the extreme; instead, forcibly ripping your own soul seven times is the most literally and metaphorically self-destructive thing a person could possibly do.

"Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction —"

If we go all the way back to Book 1, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, you’ll remember that the eponymous material (first described in the Epic of Gilgamesh) is capable of producing the Elixir of Life, a magical substance that makes its drinker immortal, as long as you have a steady supply. Not only that, but according to the beliefs of historical alchemists (such as Nicholas Flamel), it was capable of curing any disease. In the alchemical tradition, it symbolized perfection, enlightenment, and heavenly bliss.

If all Tom Riddle was concerned about was prolonging his life, this is the obvious (and better) option.

Here’s the alchemical symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone. Looks kind of like the Deathly Hallows symbol, right? It represents the interplay of the (at the time, believed) four elements of matter -- a sort of periodic table, if you will.

The mature Philosopher’s Stone was believed to be a red stone (for making gold), and the immature one a white stone (for making silver). Rubeus Hagrid and Albus Dumbledore, anyone??

"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"

And Dumbledore responds:

"But there are several reasons why, I think, a Sorcerer's Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort.”

"While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain the immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependent on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable...”

And while, yes, he did try to steal it rather than make it, I am sure that in the time it took Tom to make all of his Horcruxes, he could have learned enough alchemy to produce it for himself (or wheedled the information out of Nicholas Flamel). While Dumbledore hypothesizes that it’s because Tom hates feeling dependent, this must be irony, because he spends the first book as a literal parasite, the next three as a virtually helpless creature, and the remainder still reliant on his Horcruxes.

"Well, you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

But, like me, Dumbledore is making guesses at Tom Riddle’s internal state, and in this case, I think, he’s made an oversight. Horcruxes make him equally as dependent as the Philosopher’s Stone would have. It’s been established in canon that you cannot make yourself immortal without help; either you rely on the continued existence of your Horcruxes or your supply of the Elixir.

And while the Elixir represents the positive aspects of eternal life, like renewal, rebirth, and the cyclical nature of the universe (see above the ouroboros of Cleopatra the Alchemist, one of the four women who knew how to make the philosopher's stone), a Horcrux is antithetical to life. It represents disorder, and once the creator of Horcruxes dies, they are unable to move on from Limbo -- shut out of the cycle. Harry describes Tom’s mangled soul as looking like a flayed and mutilated baby -- permanently immature and stagnant.

This theme of destruction is furthered by the Golden Trio’s discussion on how to reverse the process:

Ron: "Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?"

Hermione: "Yes, but it would be excruciatingly painful."

Harry: "Why? How do you do it?"

Hermione: "Remorse. You've got to really feel what you've done. There’s a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can’t see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"

With this in mind, we can surmise that Tom is either (a) impatient, which we know he is not (b) there was some deeper reason for favouring Horcruxes -- so, yes, I believe that either metaphorically or literally, this was self-harming behaviour.

He takes on the name of Lord Voldemort because he hates himself, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He hates the Muggle part of himself so much that he’s willing to tear apart his entire being.

"Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."

If that isn’t renouncement of himself, I don’t know what is. He was clearly not born Voldemort.

While of course, this does NOT excuse ANY of his actions, I find it vastly implausible that the likes of Malfoy, Mulciber, Carrow, etc... would have been welcoming in any way, shape or form to an assumed ‘Mudblood’ in scruffy secondhand robes from a London orphanage, and as such, indoctrinated him into his fanatic belief in blood-purity via antagonizing him.

(Imagine Hermione, but poor and without parents, in the 1930s/40s. She would not have been treated well in Slytherin, either.)

Children are more vicious than you think. And while Tom probably gave as good as he got at Wool’s Orphanage (and was possibly an active aggressor himself), Hogwarts wouldn’t have been a level playing-field. (I’ll talk a bit about this and the significance of the Gaunt Ring in Part 2).

In other terms, I think Tom was bullied for having dubious origins. That’s often the swiftest way to radicalize someone, and would have left Tom with a crippling sense of self-hatred that I don’t think he would have even picked up from the orphanage.

(And it’s possibly this early experience with relational aggression that results in his constant need to be on the offensive/defensive, distrust of others, and fear of vulnerability. To me, this is an archetypal response of someone who was a past victim of bullying.)

Why else would an extremely powerful half-blood subscribe so strongly to those beliefs? (Rather than discriminating via amount of raw power or something -- because what Tom is immensely proud of when Dumbledore meets him is his ability, not his parentage). But I digress.

Now, Tom Riddle is never, ever quietly menacing like this. The mask is either completely on or completely off. We never see this character angry. Tom Riddle, when the mask slips off, is fury incarnate. Anger is the one emotion he doesn’t find weak; the one emotion he’s completely and utterly honest with.

Besides, that brings me to my next point. Tom’s not quite so austere. In fact, he’s quite witty, and often quite pleased with himself.

Just look at the difference in their body language. Tom has much more fluidity (he’s circling Harry, the head-tilt, the eyebrows move and he smiles a bit) than the other character, who has so much tension. Yes, they’re both menacing, but in completely different ways. Tom is comfortable with his actions, no matter how shitty they are. This other guy doesn’t like doing what he’s doing, but he’s going to do it, anyway.

Contrasted with the above, Tom’s unawareness of himself is such that we end up with a character who has a bizarre mix of extreme self-hatred and high self-esteem -- he always believes he is in the right -- in this case, doing Salazar Slytherin’s noble work -- while going to extreme, self-destructive lengths, such as tearing himself in half at the mere age of sixteen.

So, sorry... I kind of get the appeal, but... I don’t like the fancast.

(More unpopular opinions coming at 5:30 PM EDT tomorrow!)

#tom riddle #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #character analysis #character study #tom hughes #unpopular opinion #i am so getting cancelled #look i spent actual time trying to get those two gifs on the same line but it just wasn't happening #they line up if you make your window narrower #tw: mention of self-harm

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felswritingfire · 4 years ago

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Your know zebra like the big titty mad man but like low-key himbo and could suffocate me in his tiddys yes that one thanks

I KNOW WHO THIS IS AND THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME MY LIFE-

since you didn’t specify, I just went with some general stuff uwu

General Zebra

Idk if they ever state this in the manga/anime but he’s a big fan of grilled stuff, especially BBQ??? WHOOOOOOO- His favorite condamate hands down

He’s very into fashion and I like to imagine that he influenced Sunny and his interest in it as well

His favorite item of clothing is his leather jacket

Once in a while he’ll stitch up his mouth, and he’ll just say it’s for the hell of it but he actually hopes that it chills people out when they’re around him because…. He gets insecure too

That’s not to say that he’s a really insecure dude, he’s actually quite comfortable with himself and actively does not give a shit about what other people think

He’s also a chill when he’s with people that he really like, like, people who aren’t his brothers, but people who are similar to Komatsu in that they don’t have Gourmet Cells

Contrary to popular believe, he can be gentle when he wants be

He can also be a chatter bug when he’s into the conversations, not in the sense that he talks a lot, he’s just an active participant in the conversation and is animated in his movements when he is talking

Boy talks with his hands when he’s a place that he can relax; otherwise he’s all puffed and stiff if he’s in a place where he doesn't know anyone

When he’s home alone, he usually wears a pair of name brand sweats and nothing else since he’s like a big ol’ lion and he’ll lounge around on his fucking ✨LEATHER COUCH✨

Though he loves to lounge, he’s also really into trying new food and will actively try new recipes- he actually knows how to make some good ass dishes- he just likes someone else cooking more

He’s really knowledgeable about animals- like, super knowledgeable; if he wanted and if he was determined enough, he could be a whole ass Zoologist, but naw, he’s just here for the food and adventure and honestly?? What a mood

But he had to know a lot since he landed in jail because he took out a whole bunch of invasive species that were fucking up the ecosystem- like, he isn’t stupid, and I will die on this hill

When he was a little baby man, he was really protective of his little brothers- what happened? They grew up and became a pain in his ass (he still watches out for them in his rough ways)

Starting friendship with Zebra is honestly the most rewarding yet nerve wracking thing because it’s like trying to befriend a giant ass beast that you can’t read at all- which you really can’t, because the man can be a stone wall when he wants

You have to be an honest person to even be considered his friend- he doesn’t put up with any lying or two faced bullshit, that’s just how Zebra is

If you are his friend tho, he’ll always be willing to lend an ear to you if you need someone who’s willing to listen

He might throw in some advice here and there too

He’ll also be there to comfort you if you need it; he’ll even pick you up and cradle you, placing your head in the crook of his neck as he leans back and pats your back while you cry into him

He’s really soft on his friends and family

That doesn’t mean that he won’t tease the shit out of you

Truly, the truest form of lovingly bullying your friends

He’ll gruffly apologize if he goes too far BUT he very rarely does that because he’s got those magic ears of his so he can tell when you’re getting angry/sad, then he’ll start to steer the teasing somewhere else

Relationship with Zebra

Zebra is a gruff lover through and through, it’s just in his personality, but he’s a little sweeter to you than he is to anyone else

He’ll make sure that your taken care of and protected, especially if you’re his combo and he’s taking you with him on his adventures

He’s very observant of your moods; he’s actually ridiculously in tune with you???? It’s kinda freaky how he can read you like an open book

He’s the literal definition of “Babe is on her period, so am I. UterUS!” Even if you don’t identify as a lady or have the ability to have a menstrual cycle- it’s still uterUS-

What I’m trying to get at is that he’s a mega Ride-or-die bitch

Like, you have to do some atrocious shit to get him to fucking do a 180 on your ass- or just cheat on him, or lie to him (please don’t do either of those things, it takes so much for him to become attached to people, please, cherish him-)

He’ll be MEGA ANGY THEN

But not like his usual angry, like, where he gets pissed and goes on a rampage; this angry isn’t loud- his anger is full of sadness and betrayal and he wouldn’t say anything to you, he’d simply look at you with these eyes full of emotion and then turn and leave

But get fucked because the other three aren’t that chill and Komatsu may not punch the fuck out of you, but you really will wish he would because he’d talk to you like a disappointed mother and it is the worst feeling in the world- (also I will come for your kneecaps, bro, DON’T TEST ME)

ANYWAY, OFF OF THAT TOPIC-

You know how I mentioned that Zebra likes to cook? Fucking consider it a date, because he’ll actively add you into the kitchen with him, even if it’s just him cooking and you sitting there being cute while you chatter away

His love language is sharing his food, so, if he offers you food- you take it and you cling to that knowledge that you’re really one of the most important people to him

UM, HE WILL SIT YOU ON HIS LAP, DEADASS

You will never sit in a chair again if he’s there; it’s an easy way to say you’re taken and to keep you close, so he kinda lives for it

He’ll flaunt you to his brothers with zero hesitation- he adores you and they have to put up with his roundabout way of showing it

Toriko and Coco don’t really care- They’re all actually really happy for him in general- but, that doesn’t mean Toriko won’t still tease him about it (but he only does that once in a while because Toriko has to be in the mood to throw down because, of course, this is Zebra we’re talking about). Sunny on the other hand complains about it because, “oh MY GOD, THIS IS THE SIXTH TIME YOU’VE BROUGHT THEM UP- SHUT THE FUCK UP-”

Which usually instigates petty sibling arguments between them, which are actually really entertaining??? You gotta intervene at some point because Zebra will whole ass chuck Sunny into the sun if he doesn’t watch it

Very soft with cuddles???? He’s like a giant (deadly) cat who likes to bask in your presence

His favorite position to cuddle you is with his head on your chest so he can listen to your heart. There’s just something about knowing that your a tangible person who genuinely loves him and wants to actively be in his presence that gets him all types of mushy

Can you say a protective boi??? Because he is very much a protective baby

If anyone tries to hurt you for any reason, they’re dead. In very gruesome way too- I wouldn’t put it past him to grab someone and tear them limb from limb if he really wanted to

He’s also has a bit of a jealous streak, but he’s pretty quiet about it

BUT, that doesn’t mean that he’ll be opposed to looming behind you and glowering at the person (they have to have pretty big balls in the first place to even try and approach you tbh)- which usually does the trick pretty quick

Please smooch him on the forehead and tell him that you love him- it’s a genuine anxiety of his that you’re going to leave him one day for someone who isn’t, you know, seen as a real ass walking disaster on the news cast so you can pursue an actual normal life.

Sometimes he just need to hear you say you love him to put him at ease, and that’s the tea, sis

To make a long story fucking short, I love him and he’s a whole sweet tart- he’s just a little burnt around the edges- please, I love him, please-

#toriko #zebra #sfw #x reader #gender neutral reader #toriko imagine #I FUCKING #LOVE ZEBRA #SO FUCKING MUCH #HE'S MY FAVORITE BOI #10/10 ONE OF MY COMFORT CHARACTERS

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sunflowers-heart · 4 years ago

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May 30th – "I royally fucked up.”

Lyn’s Writing Event

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word count: 2,268

Warnings: None

Author’s note: None

The very last thing Thorin expected to witness in the middle of the night in the halls of Erebor was your curled frame resting against the heavy door leading to the kitchen. It was dark around you, the dim flames from the torches giving just enough light to spot your silhouette and the face hidden in hands, and the mere sight worried him deeply. Something bad must have happened, especially considering the fact that at that time you were supposed to be in bed.

Completely forgetting about the midnight snack which was occupying his thoughts for some time now, making it impossible to focus on answering the letter he received just yesterday, Thorin approached you carefully, his steps ever so firm and steady, echoing in an empty hall and making you look up at the intruder. Realizing that you were caught by the King himself, you quickly wiped your cheeks, hoping that he won’t notice how red and swollen your eyes have become.

“What is wrong?” he asked patiently and the low, calm tone of his voice was enough to make your lips tremble yet again.

You were so weak against him, your heart in an open hand and the feelings for him just waiting to burst into flames, explode with the chaotic mosaic of words and smiles and tears and embraces—but you remained silent, knowing that it was not your place to confess your undying love for the King. Ironically, it was him of all the people who found you in such a miserable state and if you did not thought that fate was mocking you before by making you fall in love with Thorin, then it surely was now, placing him in front of your face that night.

“My King,” you muttered, ready to stand up to greet him properly but he stopped you with a single move of the wrist and then sat next to you on the stone stair.

Just like that, as if you were still on the quest to reclaim his home—as friends.

And nothing more.

“Tell me what happened,” he ordered, either mad at you for unintentionally interrupting his busy schedule or concerned about your state, which one, you could not guess.

You wiped your runny nose, mentally cursing yourself for not hiding before he could spot you. As if your current appearance was not humiliating enough, your short explanation completed the picture of an utter disaster.

“I royally fucked up.”

If the situation was not as serious, Thorin would smile at the choice of words. Right now, however, he had to know the truth, the helplessness eating him from the inside. He was ready to move the mountains for you already, to dismiss anyone who made you feel that way, to use his status and wealth to solve any kind of problem you were facing now. He could do all of that, apparently, but what he feared the most was that he could not mend your broken heart.

“How so?”

You peeked at him; the royal furs covered the traditional tunic making you remember that it was, indeed, quite a cold night, even though your face was burning from the amount of crying. He looked as marvelous as always, the braids in his hair clipped with beads, neatly trimmed beard entangled with silver and the depth of his blue eyes staring right at your soul, the overflowing worry extinguishing any other emotions.

“It is pointless and certainly should not bother you, My King.”

“I decide what is and what is not my concern, do I not?” he stated. “Besides, there is no reason for you to address me this way, we were friends long before I gained the title.”

Friends.

“But I do not want to be just your friend, Thorin,” you wanted to say. “I want to love you freely, I want to kiss you boldly, I want to make love to you feverishly, I want to hold you dearly, I want to greet you daily, I want to stay by your side, as your loyal friend and a caring partner until death do us apart—and even longer, until the last star on the sky will fade away.”

But you said nothing and Thorin was still looking at you, waiting for an answer.

“You were always the king,” you told him then, smiling delicately at the memory of the day you saw him for the first time. “Title or not. There or in Ered Luin.”

“I appreciate that you think so.”

Then, there was the silence buzzing in your ears. You were sitting there, on the stair next to the kitchen door—a mere human woman and the Dwarven King under the Mountain—and somehow you wished you could remain like this forever.

Still, Thorin deserved an explanation but he knew better than to rush you and simply waited patiently for the moment you would be ready to talk. Eventually, you started.

“You do remember what day is tomorrow, right?” you asked.

“Today, if you consider the current hour,” he corrected you. “But I do remember, how could I not.”

You nodded. It was his birthday, the one hundred ninety sixth birthday, the first one he was going to spend in his beloved home with his family and friends. There was going to be an enormous feast, music and dancing until the morning, tables breaking under the weight of various foods and drinks, the presents, the wishes, the guests from other lands. Certainly, you would not have many opportunities to talk to him tomorrow for he would surely be even more busy than always.

“That is why, I wanted to do something special,” you explained quietly.

“In the kitchen?”

You nodded pitifully, suddenly remembering the mess you left behind and before you could react, Thorin was already on his feet, grabbing the doorknob.

“No, no, no, you cannot get in there now!” Leaning on the door with your whole weight, you hoped that you will eventually manage to convince him to not to peek inside.

“Do not be ridiculous. I was heading there either way, so you will have to let me it whether you like it or not.”

“I forbid it.” You were growing desperate, aware that if he only wanted to, he could easily push you off with the whole door and so, you clinged to it more.

“Do you now?” he teased. “Where did ‘My King’ go all of a sudden?”

“Exactly where you wanted it to after telling me to stop calling you that, now Thorin, please, do not open these door. You do not want to see what is behind them.”

“Nonsense.” He pulled the door slightly and you had to use your whole strengths to keep it in place—unsuccessfully. “I understand why are you upset and I will prove you that whatever happened there is no reason to cry over whatsoever.”

“It really is. Thorin, no–!“

After opening the kitchen’s door, Thorin thought only one thing: you truly were not exaggerating. There was not a single clean bowl or pot in the sight, nor there was an inch of the free space on the counters. Knives and spoons scattered all over the working table, various kinds of fruits and vegetables cut in different piles, the herbs brought from the pastry smelling all over the hall in a surprising mix, meat chopped on the cutting board ready to be roasted, every single seasoning taken from the shelf and prepared to be used, and some leftovers of the flour, thyme leaves and the dark stains on the floor. There was also one cup with broken handle.

It seemed as if you were trying to cook every single meal for tomorrow’s party all by yourself.

You stood behind him, eyeing the battlefield with a frown, feeling how the tears were burning your eyes once again.

“I was trying to do something special,” you repeated and passed by speechless Thorin to grab one of the many heavy books lying on the counter, opened on the first chapter and marked with the flour stains. “Balin recommended this book to me, I found it in a library. There are countless receipts for your traditional dishes but it turns out, I did not have all the supplies to make it.” You turned few pages, not wanting to look Thorin in the eyes. “So I started looking for something else but in the end I kept oversalting the sauce even though I was doing it exactly as they written here. Then I thought about starting something easier, maybe a tart with fruits but apparently someone has spilled something over the last few paragraphs, which I did not notice until turning the page and it was just…” You closed the book with a loud thud. “Pointless endeavour.”

Thorin was so quiet during your whole speech that for a moment you thought that maybe he went out. When you looked up, though, you noticed him standing in the same place, now staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“I am not wealthy, I cannot give you gold nor gems,” you admitted with a shrug. “Besides, what could I give to a king who already has everything?”

“No,” he stated all of a sudden and for a moment you believed that he was angry at you.

Thorin approached you slowly, not breaking an eye contact until he was right in front of you, your heart clenching in the chest in a dreadful anticipation and your breath caught in your lungs. How could you ever thought that you could win his heart with your pitiful attempts in cooking when he could have everything he wanted, served on a golden plate? How could you imagine him looking at you differently, even if for a while? How could he ever love you?

“You did all of this for me?” he asked and you admitted the truth, your vision becoming blurry.

“Surprise…” It was the most pitiful moment in your whole life and you wished the earth could swallow you whole.

You did not want to cry in front of him anymore, but goodness, the more you looked at him, the more miserable you felt. He was such a generous, kind soul, he deserved much more than a burned tart and a promise of love for barely next forty or fifty years. He deserved the world, the stars and oceans, he deserved happiness and complement, he deserved to love and be loved.

He was the love of your life and he has never been so close yet so far away from you.

You burst into tears when he embraced you firmly and held your shaking frame to himself. The furs covering his shoulders tickled your nose and you could feel the scent of his hair, his beard against your temple and strong arms around you. It was the safest place in the whole world and you would be willing to sacrifice everything just to never leave his side.

Thorin gently stroked your hair, allowing you to spill your tears over his robes and not paying the slightest attention to your runny nose, ugly sobs and puffy eyes. He was ready to stay like that with you for however long you would need to calm down, gently caressing you and muttering calming words in his language, which you could not understand. Your devotion was astonishing, your breakdown even more but it made him realize that there was, indeed, something which must have missed his careful eyes—something which Dwalin told him about long ago but he refused it to be true until now.

The wave of emotions disappeared in an outflow, leaving you empty and surprisingly light. You were still in Thorin’s arms, cared and protected from the whole world but not from the world within you. Slowly, you straightened your back and attempted to hide your face in the hands, pretending that you were wiping the tears off but he took your hands in his and without words asked you to look at him. Only then, he touched your cheek with his thumb, collecting the tears on his skin and feeling how heated you were from the outburst of sudden feelings.

“I suppose I was mistaken,” he started in a half-whisper, his gaze wandering from your eyes to the nose and lips and back, remembering your features. “I have not noticed the most precious present ever given to me, although it was right there in my hands for this whole time.”

His palms were rough from the hard work and battles but you loved how they felt against yours when he held them.

“You have already bestowed me with the only thing nobody else ever could, you have given me something I could only dream of and it is worth more than this whole palace, than all the gold, than any title. You loved me when I was nobody, a mere shadow of my true self and only now I realize that I have been waiting for you for my whole life, for one hundred ninety six long years. That it was you, my One, who I have been looking for.”

His kiss was gentle but filled with yearning, the unspoken longing for the missing piece of his heart. It did not taste as sweet as you hoped for, on the contrary, it was salty with your tears, stolen in the middle of the night in the devastated kitchen—and it was perfect.

“I told you already,” you whispered, smiling against his lips. “For me you were never anything less than a king.”

#lyn's writing event #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin #thorin x reader #the hobbit

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ibijau · 4 years ago

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Worst engagement AU // on AO3

Nie Huaisang tries to make sense of his encounter with Lan Xichen, and checks on his friends.

After this intense encounter with Lan Xichen, Nie Huaisang is in a daze. He doesn't remember heading back for his cabin but he gets there anyway. The other Nie disciples, who were with him and Jiang Cheng when Lan Qiren caught him, throw him worried looks. He ignores them, and goes straight to his bed, curling up there with his back on the world and waiting for things to start making sense again.

Even if Lan Xichen sent his brother to say that he wouldn't denounce his infidelity, Nie Huaisang had still prepared himself for him to be furious next time they met. All week he's avoided his fiancé, certain they'd have a terrible row if they came face to face. What else could have happened, now that they both knew how much they hated each other, now that Nie Huaisang had betrayed vows others had forced upon him?

He’d been ready for a fight.

Even when Lan Qiren had dragged him toward the house, he’d continued preparing for a fight, wondering if it’d get physical, if Lan Xichen would be that angry, or if they’d just shout at each other, or…

Nothing had prepared for the sight of Lan Xichen seeming small and uncertain and almost scared of him. It was worse than when he had cried, that day. And then the things he’d said, wanting to be friends, enjoying Nie Huaisang’s company, that was…

There was no way any of it was true. Lan Xichen had to be lying. He isn't known to lie, he is too much of a stupid Lan for that, but this time he had to be lying. After the things Nie Huaisang did, after purposefully hurting him, how could Lan Xichen… it's so ridiculous that Nie Huaisang can't even bring himself to think that Lan Xichen might like him, even though he said that. Something like that is too impossible.

Nie Huaisang grabs his pillow, buries his face into it, and yells.

None of this makes sense.

"Nie gongzi, are you well?" Nie Fangjie asks.

"Am I ever well?" Nie Huaisang retorts, lifting his head from the pillow and grimacing as he places a hand on his heart. "Is life anything but endless suffering?"

Nie Fangjie smirks at his words, which is rather rude. But of course, Nie Huaisang gets dramatic sometimes, and people who know him also know by his tone when to take him seriously or not. He's worked hard on that, so he's funny rather than sad when things get too much.

“Did the encounter with Lan gongzi go well?” He Zimu insists, always the more perceptive of the two.

They don’t know what happened last week. Nie Huaisang likes them well enough, but he’s no fool and believes that they frequently inform his brother of what he’s doing. Even without that suspicion, he’d be stupid to trust them with such intimate information. They’re nice and friendly, but they’re not quite his friends, and he’s read enough trashy novels not to put himself in the power of anyone he doesn’t fully trust.

He hasn’t told Jiang Cheng either. Not in detail, anyway, just a general ‘I had a big argument with Lan Xichen and maybe went a bit far’ explanation. There’s a lot Jiang Cheng could forgive him for, but probably not having done the do with his sister’s ex-fiancé. And if Nie Huaisang had told him about the kiss, Jiang Cheng would probably have misunderstood and done something stupid like shout at Lan Xichen. Jiang Cheng is great, and Nie Huaisang likes him immensely, but when it comes to emotions he’s denser than a brick.

On the other hand, if he needs someone who sometimes gets it, there’s…

“I have to go,” Nie Huaisang announces, jumping down from the bed. “I need to check something with Jin gongzi.”

The other two boys exchange a look. Just like they are curious about what happened with Lan Xichen, it’s obvious they’re wondering about the falling-out with Jin Zixuan. They can keep wondering all they like.

“Will Nie gongzi join us at dinner?” He Zimu asks.

“Most likely,” Nie Huaisang replies. There’s no need to hide from Lan Xichen anymore, at least for now, so he can once more eat in peace. Hopefully, he'll start having appetite again. “And if Jiang xiong drops by, tell him I’m fine and I’ll see him later, ok?”

Just as quickly as he came in, Nie Huaisang leaves his cabin and rushes toward the Jin one. It’s not Jin Zixuan who answers the door when he knocks (it never is, someone is too proud for that) but he quickly comes to check when he hears who their visitor is. Unsurprisingly, Jin Zixuan isn’t happy to see Nie Huaisang, but he still orders the other Jin boys out and lets his guest in.

“I hope you have a good reason to be here,” Jin Zixuan warns as he goes to sit on a sofa. He pointedly does not invite Nie Huaisang to sit as well.

“I saw Lan Xichen today,” Nie Huaisang mumbles. “We had a chat.”

Immediately Jin Zixuan tenses, his eyes narrow dangerously. He’s scary when he’s angry, as Nie Huaisang recently discovered.

“Is he going to tell on us?” he asks. “I swear, my parents are going to murder me! My father would rather take one of his bastards as heir than a cut-sleeve, and my mother…”

“He’s still keeping it secret!” Nie Huaisang anxiously cuts him, and Jin Zixuan instantly relaxes, though he’s still glaring. “Listen, Jin xiong, I’m really sorry for even telling him. I know I shouldn’t have, and I’ll never do that again, I swear.”

Jin Zixuan raises an eyebrow. “I’m starting to see the value of your promises, Nie gongzi. Have you ever made one that you didn't break?”

“Don’t be like that!” Nie Huaisang pleads before, invited to or not, he comes to sit on the sofa as well. Jin Zixuan glares harder but doesn’t shout or order him away, so there’s hope. “I know it was stupid. But it’s fine now, Lan gongzi will keep quiet, so…”

“It’s fine now until you decide you want to annoy him again,” Jin Zixuan retorts coldly. “How can I know you won’t say something again?”

Nie Huaisang looks down and plays with the hem of his sleeve. He can’t even say he didn’t realise at that moment that it was a bad idea to tell Lan Xichen about their bout of experimenting. He’d just been so caught up in getting revenge that everything else had seemed secondary.

Well, everything else is catching up with him now, and all for a victory over Lan Xichen that didn’t feel all that great in the first place. He can still see the other boy crying and it twists his heart painfully. He's cried too much in his life to enjoy seeing it in others, apparently.

"Jin xiong, I'm really sorry," he whispers. "Do… do you think you'll forgive me, someday?"

Jin Zixuan scoffs and slumps rather inelegantly against the side of the sofa.

"Sure I will. When Lan gongzi stops being mad at you, I'll consider it."

"Oh. Well, I think he already stopped?" Nie Huaisang mumbles. "He wasn't angry when we talked, just sad."

"You bet he was," Jin Zixuan mutters, rolling his eyes. "All week he's been looking at you like a dog that was kicked."

"He did?"

Of course Nie Huaisang had noticed a certain intensity in the way Lan Xichen stared at him all week. He had assumed that it was just anger. What else could it have been?

"I swear, for someone so clever you really are stupid," Jin Zixuan sighs. "You're so annoying with noticing everything about everyone, but the instant it's about your crush…"

"He's not my crush!" Nie Huaisang exclaimed, horrified by the idea. "I hate him! Even if he tries to be nice, I hate him!"

Jin Zixuan throws him a long suffering look.

“You are too dense, so I’ll say it once and never again: I don’t think you hate Lan gongzi as much as you say you do. Not with the way it’s impossible to have a single conversation without you mentioning him.”

Nie Huaisang's mouth falls open in shock. There are not many people he would allow to judge his handling of his emotions. Jin Zixuan is absolutely not one of them, considering what a disaster he is on that front.

“You’d always be talking about Jiang guniang if I let you!” Nie Huaisang exclaims. "So… there!"

“That’s a different matter,” Jin Zixuan replies, his cheeks colouring somewhat. “You are the one who is making problems here, not me. Do you remember that list we made of who was best looking in our generation? You insisted to put Lan Xichen in first position.”

“I also put you on the list!”

“Considering just the week after you were nearly begging me to kiss you and then we did that, I don’t think you’re making as good a point as you think,” Jin Zixuan points out with a haughty smirk. “Which brings me to my next point: you kissed him. Most people don’t do that to people they hate.”

Nie Huaisang glares at his friend. “Most people are stupid. And he is so handsome, it’s not my fault… and what, you’ve never been curious about kissing Jiang guniang?”

“This is not about me,” Jin Zixuan hisses, his whole face quickly turning red. “You are so annoying, I don’t know why I bother with you. And I’m still mad at you, so I don’t know why I’m even chatting with you at all."

"Because you don't hate me?" Nie Huaisang asks, hopeful and fearful at once. "Because we're still friends?"

"You're the worst friend I've ever had, and that's counting my cousin," Jin Zixuan retorts. "We're still friends, though. But I'm really…"

He doesn't get to finish because Nie Huaisang launches himself at him and hugs him tight. In spite of his anger, Jin Zixuan allows it for a surprisingly long time before pushing him away, grumbling about propriety and how he hasn't forgiven him.

It's fine, forgiveness can wait. Nie Huaisang is just glad that he didn't mess up as much as he feared he had.

After being kicked out of the Jin cabin when Jin Zixuan reaches the end of his patience, Nie Huaisang wanders a bit in the Cloud Recesses while waiting for dinner. He doesn't feel like going back to his own cabin where his co-disciples might have questions, and he's not sure where Jiang Cheng might be at this time. Besides, a little time alone isn't unwelcome when he has so much to think about.

When the bell for dinner rings, Nie Huaisang has determined that he does not, in fact, have a crush on Lan Xichen. Jin Zixuan is just deluded and, quite frankly, very bad at emotions. There's nothing odd in the fact that Nie Huaisang acknowledges how his much hated fiancé is probably the most handsome person in the world. In fact, he's heard plenty of people say the same, so that's just a fact. The same goes for praising Lan Xichen's accomplishments: Lan Xichen is simply so talented in every domain that it'd be ridiculous to deny it.

None of that matters anyway, not compared to Lan Xichen's personality, which is the most annoying in the world. Sure he was surprisingly sweet when he was drunk, or whenever he got excited enough about something that it cracked through his jade mask. And he sounded different from usual when he said he wanted to be friends, but… but that doesn't mean anything.

Jin Zixuan is an idiot, and Nie Huaisang certainly doesn't have a crush.

Jiang Cheng is pissed off when they meet at dinner. Of course that's his natural state, and with Nie Huaisang a little distracted, it takes him a moment to realise his friend is, in fact, actually upset.

They can't really talk while eating, but as soon as they're done, Jiang Cheng drags Nie Huaisang to the training grounds. There's rarely anyone there at that time since the Lans like to meditate before sleep. That makes it a good place for a private conversation. It's also perfect to blow off some steam, which Nie Huaisang often needs after a meeting with Lan Xichen.

Today Nie Huaisang doesn't feel the anger his fiancé usually provokes, but going through the motions of drilling still helps, as does having Jiang Cheng correct his form. It's something to focus on, something that still makes sense.

"Put more weight on your left foot," Jiang Cheng orders. "You're out of balance."

"Tell about me it," Nie Huaisang sighs, right before Jiang Cheng hits his ankle with his sheathed sword, hard enough to make him lose balance completely and fall on the ground. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Focus!" Jiang Cheng orders. "Or else tell me what Lan Xichen said to distract you so much!"

"He didn't say anything special," Nie Huaisang mutters, rubbing his hip as he gets back on his feet.

He didn't fall very well, even though he should know better by now. It's one of the first things Nie Zonghui insisted he learned back when he was at home, and Jiang Cheng is usually merciless about it as well. That he doesn't comment on it says a lot about how upset he must be.

"He said nothing special, but you went running to Jin Zixuan for the first time since you had a fight with both of them," Jiang Cheng retorts. "Do you really think I'm stupid?"

There’s a hint of jealousy in his voice, as if he thinks that Nie Huaisang should have run to him instead of Jin Zixuan. He would have, if the argument had been about anything else.

"It's not… He just… he apologised."

Jiang Cheng’s anger turns to surprise.

"For what?"

Nie Huaisang shrugs. "Everything, really. For the… for the argument, and also for the way he’s treated me all along. He really sounded sorry, too.”

“And you believe him?”

Nie Huaisang shrugs, not quite daring to look at Jiang Cheng. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I was so sure he was a certain way, but last time and today… It’s weird when you think you know a person and then you realise they’re not quite what you thought.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Who knew you were that easy. He apologises once and everything is fine now?”

“He also said nice stuff,” Nie Huaisang mutters, a little embarrassed that he might, in fact, be that easy. “And he said that he wants to be friends. Not many people have said that.”

“What are you talking about? You have plenty of friends! Why would you need Lan gongzi as well?”

“It’s different,” Nie Huaisang sighs. “All the friends I have, it’s because I’m the one who decided it and I kind of forced their hand. Even you and Wei xiong... and don’t you try to deny it!” he adds when Jiang Cheng opens his mouth to protest. “I’m not saying it doesn’t mean we’re friends anyway! We are, you have no choice! But it’s… it’s kind of nice that for once, it’s someone else who looks at me and thinks I’m worth the effort. It’s… ah, you wouldn’t get it.”

Rather than to answer, Jiang Cheng stares at him a long while. So long in fact that it is starting to get uncomfortable.

“I think I do get it,” he huffs at last, avoiding Nie Huaisang’s eyes. “Growing up with Wei Wuxian, it’s… yeah, must be nice to be someone’s choice here and there.”

It’s an unexpected confession, especially coming from Jiang Cheng who’d rather die than admit he feels anything. It might be blamed on the falling darkness around them, or how tense those last few days have been, or just the fact that they are friends, and even someone like Jiang Cheng needs to say certain things sometimes.

“Well, I chose you,” Nie Huaisang says, trying not to cringe at how silly that sounds. “You’re my best friend and I’m happy I chose you.”

“Idiot,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, blushing enough that it’s visible even in the dusk light. “I’d choose you too, even if you’re always making problems.”

Nie Huaisang grins, and saunters to Jiang Cheng’s side, pressing their shoulders together. A full hug would have been nice, but he knows Jiang Cheng barely even allows those to his siblings. According to Wei Wuxian though, Jiang Cheng gives the world’s best hugs when the mood hits him. Then again, Wei Wuxian tends to consider that everything his siblings do is the best, so he’s not exactly objective, but Nie Huaisang hopes he'll be treated to one of those someday.

They silently stay like this for a little bit, until the first curfew bell rings, warning them that they need to head back to their cabin. They do that, walking slowly since they know they have a bit of time until the second and final bell. Nie Huaisang finds it a bit hard to put one foot in front of the other. It really has been an intense day, and he’s sure he’ll find it easy to fall asleep. That will be nice. He hasn’t exactly slept well since that last meeting with Lan Xichen.

“So, are you going to do it?” Jiang Cheng asks as they come into view of their cabins.

“Do what?” Nie Huaisang mumbles, blinking sleepily.

“Lan Xichen, that thing about him wanting to be your friend. Are you going to? Just because you like that he asks doesn’t mean you have to say yes.”

Nie Huaisang stops walking, too tired to do that and think at the same time. He still very much hates Lan Xichen of course, no matter what Jin Zixuan said earlier, because Jin Zixuan is clearly an idiot who is projecting his own issues onto Nie Huaisang. But at the same time, Lan Xichen made some good point in saying that they have things in common, and they are going to spend the rest of their lives together, and… and however hateful he is, Lan Xichen can also be kind of nice to talk to when he forgets to be stuck up, which he promised to work on.

“I think I will give him a chance,” Nie Huaisang decides, before laughing when Jiang Cheng immediately rolls his eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing. But I swear, if you start talking even more about him…”

“Hey! At least I’m not as bad as Wei Wuxian with Wangji!” Nie Huaisang protests.

“Only because you can’t hear yourself,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, narrowly avoiding being elbowed in the ribs for that unfair accusation. “Too slow. You really need to train harder than that. I swear when you’re back in Qinghe, I’ll write to your brother to make sure you’re still practicing, and I’ll tell him to go hard on you.”

“Traitor!” Nie Huaisang gasps. “I take back what I said earlier, I wouldn’t choose you as my friend if I could do it again!”

“Not take backs,” Jiang Cheng retorts, pushing him toward the door of his cabin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nie Huaisang grins and weakly waves his hand at his friend before going in. He barely manages to make it to his bed before he falls asleep, still fully dressed, and rests better than he had in a long while.

#xisang #worst engagement au #jau writes #I wasn't going to post anything today but then there's stuff not working at my job and I got nothing else I can do so #this chapter is mostly nhs's friends telling him he has a crush and him laughing it off because both jzx and jc are usually shit at emotions #so welp enjoy I guess??

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fractured-shield · 4 years ago

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On my favorite Fractured Shield characters

I love Therien so much. Her story is one of growth, of accepting herself and pushing for change in the world around her. She’s always been idealistic, and stubborn, and so fiercely, steadfastly brave. At first, her actions didn’t correlate with her ideals, as strong as those ideals were. She was shy and awkward, slow to act, stuttering over her words and doubting herself. As her physical strength and skill grows, so does her confidence in living out her beliefs. She’s the sort of person to put herself in harm’s way for a stranger (even when it’s not the smartest move), or go off on a shouty, angry lecture, crying the whole time. She’s barely five feet tall, and 17 years old when introduced, and she trains herself relentlessly for one purpose: she wants to protect people. Not just people in general, but she wants to be strong enough to never lose anyone she loves, and to keep her father from losing anyone else that he loves. If little boys can grow up to protect their mothers, she reasons, why can’t little girls grow up to protect their fathers? And she does, there’s no doubt about it. She grows from the discouraged, awkward teen into a trained and capable warrior - one who’s just hotheaded enough to point her sword at the idiot who’s been making jokes in poor taste about her family. She becomes more skilled in diplomacy and negotiation, and her idealism is still there until nearly the end. By book 2 she’s a beautifully fierce young woman who knows exactly what she thinks and isn’t afraid to make her beliefs known with words or blade - and her father is so proud of every part of who she is. Which brings me to my second point: the importance of her father. Idhren Athealin is my favorite character that I have ever written, and I am very attached to him. He’s a wonderful character, and I’ve learned so much about myself by writing him. Of course, I can say the same about Therien, and I love Therien so much, and writing the two of them feels like baring the core of my being to the world. Idhren is such a deeply emotional character to write - of course, so is Therien, with her tendency to angry-cry and happy-cry and every other point I just mentioned. But Idhren feels different, although Therien did have to inherit her idealism from someone. Idhren is more reserved and somber, and there’s a certain aching sense of loss and heartache and self-directed bitterness to him - settled in with age but certainly not weakened. He’s a leader, whether he likes it or not: a single father, a mentor, a soldier, and a councillor. He’s good at leading: he makes people feel at ease, makes them feel understood, and if he was a teacher he would be the sort you’d accidentally call “dad.” Despite his desire to present a strong facade for anyone who looks up to him, his leadership is so effective because he’s vulnerable. He’s introverted and terribly shy, and doesn’t try to pretend otherwise. The only purpose of his calm, peaceful mask is to reassure the soldiers he trains and give them security in the moments it’s necessary. He cries, and speaks openly about his trauma, and relies on the people around him. He often has the sort of steady calm of someone who’s had to consciously work to get to that point.

There are so many children who find comfort in fiction as an escape from their reality, latching onto characters who are better parents than their own. There are countless adults, too, who do the same, and it can be a valid method to cope with (or heal from) the trauma of a difficult childhood. If I can add one more character like that to the world (especially a character who shows the complexities of trauma and mental illness, and learns to live a successful life despite them) I’ll be happy, because that’s always been my one of my main goals in my writing. Tl;dr - I just really love Idhren and one day this series will be done so you can all love this wonderful disaster dad too.

#fractured shield trilogy #fractured shield #piercing fire #withered sage #therien #idhren #writblr #fantasy #meta

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 5 years ago

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dick grayson fic rec post

i’ve read a fair amount of dick grayson/nightwing-related fic over the last few months–and have so many favourites that i revisit frequently!–that i thought it was about damn time that i made a rec post. feel free to add on any gems that you think i’ve missed.

s/o to @cautiousamber who actually inadvertently got this ball rolling, and who is just awesome in general.

these fics are listed in no particular order. almost all of them are sourced from ao3 and a lot of them feature dark themes, blood and violence. i’ll put fic-specific warnings next to each title, but make sure to check out the tags on the fic itself before reading in case i missed something that you’d rather not read.

like a rubber band until you pull too hard by @perissologist Summary: Morgaine le Fey curses Dick Grayson to absorb the pain of everyone he loves.

Warnings: Violence, blood & gore, whump, some swearing. Also, it’s Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, tho that’s not the focus and more or less subtext until the last few paragraphs of the fic.

this is a gloriously simple h/c premise that packs in so much potential that i’m still kicking myself for not thinking of it before. the writing is wonderful, the interactions between dick and his family are heartfelt without being sappy, and the writer treads a fine, fine line between jason’s general standoffishness and the aching core of his love for his family so damn well.

Half Lost, Half Found by takadainmate Summary: Driven underground, Batman fights to keep Nightwing alive.

Warnings: Violence, blood & gore, graphic descriptions of injury, some swearing. And it’s, uh, incomplete, and likely to remain that way.

this… THIS is the fic that truly inspired me to make this post, because everyone needs to read it. rich in detail and full of glorious h/c, it manages to give us a nuanced, dynamic portrayal of bruce and dick’s relationship even while ratcheting up the tension as batman struggles to keep a gravely injured nightwing alive and save them both from Peril. it lacks the final chapter where (presumably) they are rescued and finally get a chance to recover, but i would 100% recommend reading what’s there even if you aren’t a fan of incomplete fics.

Black and Red by Eboni_A Summary: Jason Todd is the Boy Terror to Dick Grayson’s Boy Wonder and proud of it. Where Dick is graceful, Jason is brutal, but they work together like clockwork. When a serious illness takes Dick down, Jason makes it his duty to watch over him. Jason loves his adopted brother and will kill to protect him.

Warnings: Violence, chronic illness, blood and gore, swearing, dick is fourteen and jason is twelve and they go through a lot of Shit. first person perspective.

this is nominally set in the young justice universe but there are a lot of changes–with jason todd adopted far earlier than he has been in other batman media and working as a batman sidekick of a different name while dick is still robin. given i’m not a big fan of reading robin-era fics (literal children in Peril makes me squirm) or first-person perspective, this fic still managed to win me over with how well-rounded and sympathetic it made an angry and prickly jason todd feel. dick also has to deal with a fairly serious medical issue, but despite spending most of the fic in hospital, his humour and charm and bravery shine through.

Collar Me (Don’t Collar Me) by CaramelMachete and spread_my_wings Summary: A basic patrol ends in a common injury. However, complications may turn a simple broken arm into something potentially career-ending. Dick copes as best as he can. Until he doesn’t. His family tries to help.

Warnings: blood and injury, serious complications of said injury, descriptions of surgical procedures and discussion of permanent disability. some swearing. a work in progress.

i am obsessed with this fic. spoiler: the complication is compartment syndrome, and the way the fic approaches not just dick’s ways to cope with this, but other members of the batfam and several of dick’s friends ring very true to their characters. it’s emotional without being melodramatic and wonderfully written. an update on this fic ranks among the highlights of my day, honestly.

through sandstorms and hazy dawns by Makalaure Summary: “Robin,” Bruce grinds out, “stop talking. You need to stay sharp.”

Dick knows he is walking a fine, fine line. “Aw, come on, B,” he says, going for cheerful but feeling like something in him, something he has kept carefully in check till now, is about to snap.

Warnings: mature themes, mentions of forced prostitution, homophobic language, implied paedophilia, implied past abuse, and exoticisation. panic attacks.

this is a beautiful fic, dealing with all the highs and lows of the earliest stages of bruce and dick’s relationship–both of them utterly out of their comfort zones but learning all the same. being batman’s first robin is so much more of a struggle than dick ever lets on later in his life, and in spite of everything, their growing love for and wonderment at each other shine through like a beacon.

Yellow Submarines by jerseydevious Summary: A collection of Batfam prompt-fics.

Warnings: there’s some swearing, violence and blood in some fics, but mostly harmless, i think.

not all of these are dick-related, but each and every one of these 52 fics have made me cry like a lost child. i love this author’s batfam–they’re softer, more open, and utterly unafraid to love each other with all their heart. it helps that the writing flows so well, too–there are some phrases here that will stay with me for a very, very long time.

Atropa Belladonna by Embleer_Firth0323 Summary: A routine traffic stop sets off a domino effect that will forever shatter Officer!Grayson’s entire world–transforming a once temperate existence into a lurid nightmare of obsession, deceit, violence, and finally murder.

Warnings: Rape/non-con, abuse, suicide. suicidal thoughts, violence, blood and gore, multiple character deaths (none of the batfam), discussions of pregnancy and miscarriage, swearing, first person perspective. i’m sure i’m missing some warnings; please check the tags for the fic. there are also chapter-specific warnings in the notes that precede the chapters.

HOKAY. this is a VERY long, very soap-opera-y retelling of the infamous tarantula arc from the comics. somehow, it is even darker, but hopeful in that all of the damage it inflicts on dick and those close to him is actually acknowledged and addressed. the world around this particular version of dick is rather nicely fleshed out and full of likeable people… bar catalina, of course. catalina flores plumbs the depths of awfulness and digs even further when it comes to her relationship with dick, but even at her worst, her anguish and trauma is always palpable. it’s a long, difficult, but extremely engrossing read.

i would recommend reading this author’s other novel-length fics as well, but beware that they deal with very, very heavy topics, and not always with the deftest or most sensitive hand.

Come One, Come All and The Only Thing To Say by incogneat_oh

both of these are really cute fics where members of the batfam care for/spend time with an injured!dick. they are sweet, rich in detail, and honestly a delight to read. warnings-wise, i can’t think of anything beyond the odd swear-word.

Little By Little by paramountie Summary: Six times Tiger found himself stuck in Bludhaven.

Warnings: swearing, blood and injury, mind control, violence. Tiger/Dick.

this fic builds on all the the strengths of the Grayson comic series–a breezy tone, spy/thriller content, and tiger and dick’s fun dynamic. this fic is very funny and kind of heartbreaking in turns. my only caveat is that this dick tends very much towards the happy-go-lucky, quippy, emotional, a-bit-of-a-disaster characterisation that tends to plague him in fanon–but to be fair, that is the persona he put up while at Spyral in Grayson.

O Clouds Unfold by lowflyingfruit Summary: Over the years, Alfred tries to introduce the younger members of the Batfamily to the noble sport of cricket.

Warnings: none that i can think of, really.

THIS FIC DELIGHTS ME ON SO MANY LEVELS. little snippets of alfred bonding with bruce’s adopted kids over the years by trying to introduce them to cricket–alfred’s voice is consistently amazing, and it is charming af from beginning to finish.

i’d recommend all of this author’s batfam fic tbh.

Tectonic Doom by paganpunk2 Summary: Dick and Tim head out for a week of brotherly bonding in the wilderness only to find themselves caught up in a scheme to put humanity on the ‘extinct’ list.

Warnings: violence, blood, injury and gore, minor character death

this is a lovely, long, plotty fic–with a wonderfully imaginative premise that’s brought out in rich detail, with so much glorious, glorious Dick/Tim bonding. there are way, way too few fics that focus on these two.

Ducklings on the Freeway by pentapus Summary: Jason worries about the younger Robins. He doesn’t worry about Dick – Dick’s untouchable, and even if he wasn’t Jason wouldn’t care.

(Or Dick gets hurt, and it freaks Jason out more than he expected.)

Warnings: swearing, injury. Jason/Dick, but more subtext than anything.

jason’s voice in this fic is so perfect–the tentative ways in which he reconnects with his family, and especially dick, while still dealing with a fuckton of trauma and resentment ring very, very true. and tired-but-knowing!dick is a delight as always.

this is maybe ~33% of the recs i had in mind, but this post has gotten long and i’m tired, so. i’ll add more later. if you have anything that i’ve missed, please feel free to add it to this post!

#batman #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #fic rec

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raendown · 5 years ago

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 6570 Chapter: 8/9 Rated: T+ Summary: When his brother disappears coming home from town Madara goes looking for him only for both to end up taken prisoner in a castle hidden by magic generations ago. The candelabras talk, the furniture sleeps, and a great white beast hides himself away in the eastern wing. As he uncovers the story behind this place and gets to know the last small group of ‘survivors’ Madara gradually makes a new home here in the least likely of places.

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Chapter 8

If you had asked him even yesterday Madara would probably have said that he never expected to find out what a sleepy tessen fan looked like. Sure he knew that even as inanimate objects his fellow residents here at the castle did need to sleep but they did so in the royal apartments, one of the few areas he still had yet to go back in to. And besides that the only living tessen fan he knew was Mito and she was a woman who clung to her poise at every minute of every hour. Seeing her sleepy, in his mind at least, would be like seeing Tobirama sit in the middle of the floor to start crying.

Yet there she was floating in to the room with her painted eyes half-lidded and her thin lips opened for a yawn while Hashirama flustered along the ground beneath her. Behind them Tobirama slinked in as best he could with cloven hooves in place of feet.

“Why does Hashirama look so panicked?” Madara asked him quietly. He was fairly sure he already knew the answer and though he hoped it wasn’t true those hopes were dashed by the sad red eyes turning away from him.

“He fears for his wife. She is…not well.”

“You mean she’s sick?” It said a lot that his tone was almost hopeful but again he was disappointed.

“No, she is not ill. She is tired. It has come as a shock to both of us.” Tobirama fell in to stillness and closed his eyes, visibly attempting to rein in his emotions, and Madara couldn’t blame him. He hated that his guess was right. This was the last thing he wanted for any of the friends he’d made here.

Keeping a weather eye on her floating form as she took over the cooking, he allowed himself to be shooed away to go sit on Tobirama’s other side. “She’ll be okay though, right? I see her every day and she’s never shown any sort of…tiredness.”

It took his companion a while to answer. In that time Madara watched as Mito sent her husband apologetic yet muted smiles to which he responded by attempting to wring his hands together. Even the way she drifted through the air seemed almost listless, weaving side to side rather than her usual straight lines, movements sluggish where normally she zipped from place to place with an effortless decorum. How a fan managed to affect decorum he couldn’t say but it was one word that always came to mind whenever he watched her working.

“Her pain was kept well hidden from us all until today,” Tobirama murmured eventually. He couldn’t seem to look at anything but the floor, each word a low rumble so as not to drift across the room. “She is tired, as are we all, but I did not realize she had given up on hope after all this time. Of us all she has always seemed the strongest. Now she feels that with you and your brother here she need not worry for her husband and she has lost the strength to keep herself awake. It won’t be long.”

“Until?”

“She will fall asleep,” was the simple, heartbreaking answer.

Madara didn’t need more than that to understand. She would fall asleep as so many others had and become nothing more than another object in the cavernous halls to sit still and collect dust. Just thinking about how devastated Hashirama would be by her loss made him shudder and push the image from his mind, snagging Tobirama by one wrist and turning to pull him from the room without warning.

“You are not responsible for this,” he hissed the moment they were alone in the hallway. When Tobirama flinched he knew he had hit the mark.

“It is I that keeps them all trapped in this–”

“No, it’s that crazy witch lady who trapped you all here. Maybe they don’t quite agree with how you feel but not one of them blames you for it.” He nearly growled with frustration to see the other wrinkle his brow with disagreement.

Still not lifting his eyes from the floor, Tobirama ran a hand through his wild hair, stopping when his fingers ran in to one of the horns growing out the top of his head. He paused to trace the ridges with disgust shadowing his face. “If I were a stronger man I would have freed them from this hell decades ago. If I were still a man at all.”

Disgust turned to shock when Madara punched him square in the chest. With the sheer size of his current form the blow did very little but it was enough to break him from his thoughts and force his gaze up to see that Madara was angry. Not truly angry in the sense that he was offended in any way but there was certainly a good heavy irritation building up inside him after going over the same words again and again with no progress. Utterly done with having to repeat himself, Madara reached up and snagged a fistful of the man’s collar to pull him down so their faces were of a level, staunchly ignoring the fact that he only succeeded because Tobirama followed the motion probably out of pure disbelief.

“I’m gonna say this again and you’re gonna clean the shit out of your ears and listen this time,” he growled. “You are a man. And a damn good one. You can have all the pity parties and magic tricks you like and that won’t change anything. You’re a human with human feelings and just because they hurt doesn’t mean you get to run away from them!”

“Madara…”

“No! Shut up! You think I didn’t feel like a monster when I figured out our parents abandoned us? You think I didn’t feel like an unwanted burden not good enough even for the people who made me? Well I got over it! And you’re just going to have to get over this!”

“It is not as easy as–”

With a snarl Madara cut him off again. “You might not think so but it really is! You have had a hundred damned years to wallow in your little pity party but it needs to stop! You think you did a terrible inhumane thing. Fine. So make up for it! Atone! It if makes you feel better you can abdicate the throne and run away to live the harrowing life of a peasant. I know a stable you can help me muck out. But for the love of all the gods just- would a monster feel the guilt that you do!?”

Tobirama had no answer. He seemed a little too busy gaping with his jaw hanging loose and from this close Madara couldn’t help but note that it was a startlingly adorable expression on him. Actually there were several things he had the chance to notice now. With the height different between them he’d never seen Tobirama’s face in such detail but from merely an inch or so away he could see the exact garnet red shade of his eyes, the soft almost peachy pink of his lips and the frown lines around them. Twisted his features might have been but there were enough hints towards the handsomeness his true self would wear that Madara very nearly blushed.

Since he was still more angry than anything else he did no such thing. He did let go of the clothing in his grasp, awkwardly smoothing it out in apology when Tobirama failed to straighten right away.

“You’re so caught up in what you see in the mirror,” he continued, “that you can’t see what’s actually on the inside. If you looked at yourself like I do you wouldn’t see a monster.”

“Peace,” Tobirama breathed, holding up both hands in surrender.

“Oh believe me, I’m feeling mighty peaceful right now.”

His companion let out a single humorless puff of laughter. “Indeed. Madara…the way you speak of me is…I am glad you came in to our lives. I’m glad to have known you. The things you say mean more than I can express and I don’t think I could ever repay you for the kindness you have shown me.”

“It’s not kindness, its basic human decency.” Madara sniffed haughtily.

“There are many who would not offer even that. I…”

Seeing Tobirama hesitate was odd, enough so that Madara felt almost obligated to put him out of his misery. The man needed to hear these things but every time he tried to bring them up he found himself incredibly weak to the flash of vulnerability that followed his words. Confident that Tobirama would think on what he said, he awkwardly patted one massive arm and cleared his throat.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I yelled, you’re obviously already stressed about the situation.”

“No need to apologize, you were in the right to stop me from spiraling in to a darkness that would help no one. That is not what I had intended to address however. I wished to tell you, ah, how I feel.”

“God, please, no.” Madara retracted his hand to slap it over both eyes. “Don’t get touchy feely on me, I’ll break out in to hives.”

“Oh.”

When he peeked Tobirama looked so downcast it sent a wave of guilt burning through his gut and Madara hurried to balm the wound he’d just made. “We’re friends and I know you appreciate me, I swear I do. I just, ugh. You don’t need to compose sonnets or anything about it okay? I’d burn up from embarrassment.”

“Friends, yes.”

“Right.”

After staring at him for a long time with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher Tobirama took a deep breath and let it out slowly before indicating the door back in to the kitchen. “Shall we rejoin the others?”

“Are you alright to go back in?”

“Yes, I should attend to my brother and his wife. It is only proper that I offer what comforts I can.” His words were stiff with what Madara could only assume to be some embarrassment of his own. That was understandable. Madara himself didn’t deal very well with the shameful disaster that was expressing himself so he could hardly blame anyone else for the same struggle.

The kitchen, when they entered, was filled with silent tension that even Kagami seemed unwilling to break. Madara would be tempted to check the boy’s temperature if he thought wooden soldiers could have a temperature. Did their animated chattel bodies have any physiological human characteristics? Something to ask about. At the moment he kept his focus on the way Hashirama had settled himself on the edge of the kitchen counter with the stubborn expression of a watchdog. If he still possessed muscles and feet Madara could only imagine they could have been spread to set himself in an unmovable stance much like young village lads playing tackle ball games in the fields.

It was easy to understand his concern but it was also quite easy to see the tightness of Mito’s illustrated lips. She looked much more alert now, thankfully, and did not seem to appreciate her husband’s stubborn hovering. Knowing that increasing the tension would not do anyone any good Madara stumped over and unceremoniously scooped a protesting Hashirama up, carrying him along to find a seat where he usually did.

“Madara, my good man, I must insist you return me to my station!”

“Your station is off to one side admiring her ‘pretty folds’ and completely missing the dirty implications of your own words.” He gave his friend an unimpressed look and poked him until he fell down on his backside. On the other side of the table Tobirama held one hand up to cover a weak smile.

“I would never make lewd observations in public!”

“That you know about,” Madara grunted.

He accepted the smile Mito gifted him when she brought his salvaged breakfast as the gratitude it was meant to be and said nothing further, listening with only one ear as Hashirama went off on some rant about respecting the fairer sex and maintaining decorum. Anyone who skidded around corners so fast they crashed in to walls on a weekly basis had no room for lecturing about decorum.

Breakfast was delicious, though for once he neglected to say so. No way was he admitting that Mito’s cooking really was that much better than his own. Izuna, on the other hand, had no qualms about loudly declaring how glad he was to avoid eating his big brother’s cooking again after so long without. The comparisons he made were less than flattering despite years of his compliments for the chef. Madara made sure to give him a hefty swat on the back of his head on the way to wash his dishes in the sink. No matter how many times they assured him that none of the dishware they used had ever been a reanimated human he simply couldn’t bring himself to leave them dirty.

Just in case.

The possibility of Mito’s declining mental state seemed like a family matter so Madara was well prepared to drag his brother away once they had both taken care of their dishes and probably lock themselves away for some quality time of their own. He was more than a little startled to have Hashirama invite them to join the castle residents for the day, spending time together as one big happy group. A rarity and an honor. Madara accepted the invitation easily and, with Izuna trailing along behind curiously, he walked next to Tobirama in companionable silence as they all made their way up a floor to gather in a lovely sunroom he’d never seen before, darker now as the afternoon faded but the fire Hashirama lit gave off enough light to admire rich furniture and tasteful décor.

Since half of their little gathering didn’t exactly take up much space the three of them without any bulk all settled on a low table centered in the middle of the seating area, Izuna carefully draping himself over a massive armchair while Madara settled next to Tobirama on a small couch. Considering how much furniture there was about they didn’t really have to sit together but it felt ridiculous to have all three of them with bodies spread out when it would be much easier to converse if they were all closer. And if he happened to enjoy the rather pleasant scent of sandalwood coming off of his friend then that was for him to know and hopefully no one else to find out. It was his own business if he made sure to angle his body to lean a bit more towards the opposite side of the couch where every shift and movement of Tobirama’s body sent another waft of pleasant aromas through the air. His friend must have bathed before dinner as well.

For the most part conversation stayed light as everyone tried to keep their mind off of the way Mito wasn’t quite as interactive as she might normally have been. While she could never be described as exuberant neither was she the type to withhold her opinion if she had one but today she offered very little, resting quietly on the tabletop and looking as though she would dearly have loved to fold up her ribs and rest.

Hating the guilt that shadowed Tobirama’s face every time he so much as glanced in her direction, Madara did what he could to keep the conversation going between them even when the rest of the group branched off on to other topics. Distraction was not allowed. If he had to be the center of Tobirama’s focus for the rest of the day he would even if he didn’t see himself as all that interesting. Luckily for him it was never very hard to keep the other’s attention.

“You never ride them?” Tobirama asked after listening with a muddled frown to a description of how Madara spent most of his days back home.

“No, they’re not mine.”

“But you are caring for them, do you not take them out for exercise in a yard or field?”

Madara lifted one eyebrow. “It’s an inn tavern, you sheltered noble. I just watch them while their owners get drunk and then I have to let them go again to carry the sodden asses back home.”

“Well that strikes me as incredibly dangerous. One should never travel whilst inebriated.”

“Have you ever been inebriated?”

“Such things are unseemly,” Tobirama sniffed. When his eyes opened again it was to peek and make sure his brother wasn’t listening. “However I must admit that, yes, I have experienced it and did not understand the attraction. The devils of drink were always more Hashirama's vice, not mine.”

“Weak stomach?” Madara nodded sagely.

He delighted in the bitchy look that earned him. For a king Tobirama had some excellent bitch faces.

“I will have you know that my constitution is far above average.”

“Oh so you’re an expensive drunk then. I can get that. Didn’t want to waste the money it takes to get you plastered?”

Tobirama’s face pinched even tighter. “For your information I was indeed in charge of the royal coffers and not once was it ever a concern whether or not I was spending too much on such frivolities as alcohol! I have some decorum!” He paused to visibly compose himself, then added in a flippant tone, “Unlike some others here.”

It took effort to clamp his teeth down on the gleeful snicker that wanted to escape.

“You trying to say something?” Madara demanded instead, valiantly holding in his laughter.

“Why, I would never raise such implications against your person – unless you deserved it of course. Should I direct my inquiries to your sibling?” Tobirama cast his gaze across the room to where Izuna had kicked his feet over one arm of the chair and tossed his head back against the other arm with raucous laughter. He smirked openly when Madara scrambled to wave both hands forbiddingly without drawing too much attention to them.

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed.

Tobirama hummed and settled back in to his seat a little more firmly, a silent declaration that he would have mercy this time. “Perhaps it is best I determine my answers from the source, as it were. I don’t suppose you would care to join me for a nightcap?”

“Eh?” Spinning his head around to check the window, Madara frowned. “It’s not really night yet.” When he looked back Tobirama was giving him a look that said he had definitely missed something, though he had no guesses what that something might be. A nightcap was supposed to be a drink at the end of the night as far as he knew. Something to end your day with. He was pretty sure. It was one of those words that no one down at his end of the social totem pole ever used.

“You interpret the word too literally. I meant only to invite you to my room for a drink.”

“What, trying to get me drunk? Is that your way of throwing a challenge?”

“Ah, if you choose to see it as one.” Tobirama shook his head as if disagreeing with himself but before Madara could question it he affected a smile and added, “Any time with you is time well spent. Even if you do insist on hearing only the spaces between whatever meaning I am attempting to convey.”

Madara gave him a funny look, to which Tobirama lifted one eyebrow, a challenge asking him to refute such claims. He really wished he could but as much as he always enjoyed a good argument he really wasn’t clear on what he was arguing against. It felt like lately he was always missing something whenever he spoke with Tobirama – which was pretty much every day. The more time they spent together the closer they became and the cycle could only wind inwards infinitely. But if sharing a drink at the end of the day was what he wanted then Madara certainly wasn’t going to say no. It wasn’t often he got to enjoy a mug or two, not usually able to afford it, and when he did it was almost always the swill at the end of the barrel after the innkeeper finished serving his ‘more important’ guests.

Plan in mind and determined not to make a drunken fool of himself too easily, Madara gave his companion a friendly shove before lifting his head to respond when Izuna called him from across the seating area. He was easily drawn in to a debate over whether the cloth produced by a spinning jenny could really be the same quality as one produced by a team of workers spinning by hand. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how far behind the times these folks were and how little they knew of the world’s latest technologies.

The silly debate ended with Hashirama demanding that Izuna craft a spinning jenny for him to try for himself, to which Izuna responded by nearly falling off his chair with laughter and holding out both soft-palmed hands.

“You think I’m the worker of the household? I’m an invalid, your highness, I haven’t done much more than simple house chores since I was a boy.” He seemed quite pleased with his excuse too. Madara grumbled just loud enough to get his point across the room but his brother ignored him. “Even if I was I wouldn’t know how to make one for myself.”

“Oh. I rather thought…hm.” Hashirama didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, a little consternated, a little confused.

“Thought what?”

“It was my thought that if one understood how to use it then surely one must understand how to construct it.”

Madara relaxed from where he’d been about to burst in to laughter in case Hashirama made some dumbass comment about the entire working class sharing skills. That was just the sort of empty-headed assumptions he was used to hearing from nobles but he should have known to expect better of his friend. Not that the assumption he did end up making was all that much smarter.

“The improvements he has made continue to impress me,” Tobirama said quietly and Madara didn’t have to follow his gaze to know he was watching Izuna.

“No kidding. Thank you again. For helping.”

“You need not thank me.”

“I do need to. You can’t know…well I guess you can know what it’s like to lose a brother. We already had to bury the rest of our siblings but I don’t have to bury him and that’s thanks to you. I owe you everything.” His cheeks were burning by the time he’d finished saying his piece and Madara considered giving Tobirama another shove to bring the mood of their conversation back out of the seriousness he’d just dove down in to.

Thankfully Tobirama seemed to recognize what he needed. “If you absolutely must pay recompense then I shall consider your acceptance of my offer for a nightcap as such. Mayhap I truly will get you – ah, what was the term you used? – plastered.”

Madara roared with mirth to hear such a colloquial term from the fanciest idiot he’d ever met. His laughter caught the attention of Hashirama, who he then had to explain to what it meant to get plastered. The conversation turned then to include the entire group as they all traded embarrassing stories about each other under the influence of alcohol or other accidentally ingested substances. Most of the latter were stories about Tobirama stumbling out of his laboratory to report on unknown reactions with new chemicals. Madara liked those ones, although he didn’t appreciate Izuna’s lurid descriptions of the few times he had stumbled home from the inn after being allowed the dregs of his so-called betters. The one story about Mito and her bloomers, on the other hand, he found particularly amusing.

Even more amusing was seeing the stars in little Kagami’s eyes and watching Hashirama awkwardly try to talk him out of the idea that he too wanted a good drinking story when he was finally able to grow old enough. High moral values were difficult to impart with Izuna egging the poor boy on from the sidelines.

Such antics eventually led to the end of their evening all together, Mito shaking the stupor away long enough to scold her husband for encouraging Kagami towards such raunchy behaviors and refusing to hear anything about him being the only one trying to protect the child. When she expressed her fatigue Hashirama's face fell in response. In an instant he was up and fussing around, encouraging her to bed and bidding the rest of them a good night. After watching them go Izuna’s mood seemed to have dimmed as well. Before long he was scooping up Kagami and trotting off with the toy soldier in tow, murmuring together like co-conspirators on their way out. Madara wondered if his brother planned to let the boy sleep in his bed for the night and what might happen if Izuna rolled over in his dreams. He would need to stay alert for screaming.

“It seems we have been abandoned,” Tobirama observed to the otherwise empty room.

“Time for that drinking contest you were calling for?”

“Have a bit of class, I pray.” Sticking his nose in the air, his friend affected the snootiest expression he’d ever seen, clearly exaggerated for comic effect. “To waste such fine sake on something as crude as a contest to see which of us may imbibe more! Heavens forbid.”

“Oh quit being such a ponce!” Madara told him.

Watching Tobirama preen to have amused him with a good joke was hilarious, though he opted not to say anything. Embarrassing the man could only end in having any offers of alcohol revoked and Madara found that he was quite in the mood for a few drinks. Magnanimously choosing to be merciful, he instead waved for his friend to lead the way and followed with giddy anticipation, curious to finally have his first proper look around the royal apartments. He knew someone of Tobirama’s station probably had an entire set of rooms to himself so they were most likely just moving to a different type of sitting room but he could guess that it was still quite an honor.

As they shut the door of the sunroom and set off down the hall he turned to his friend with a curious expression. “Wait, we’re drinking sake? That’s supposed to be rice wine right?”

“Indeed it is. Have you never had the pleasure?”

“No. Usually all I have is whatever beer gets leftover in people’s mugs at the end of the night. Already paid for, you know? The innkeeper would never give me anything for free and I don’t usually have the money to spare for being choosy.” He shrugged because that was the way of things in his life and there was little point in getting all riled up about it.

Turning a corner brought them past a window, light from the rising moon flickering across the deep creases between Tobirama’s brows where he had pulled them in to a frown. “How very uncharitable of him. You deserve much better than the leftovers of men who could never hope to be your equal.”

“Damn, back at it with the flattery.” Madara tossed his hair over one shoulder. He noted the way Tobirama’s gaze followed the motion though he didn’t think much of it since the man was probably just wondering what it would be like to have so much hair thick and heavy on his own head. A lot of people asked questions about his hair. Not many of them were very happy with the honest answer that he had grown it out mostly by accident at first and then because he was stubborn in the face of so many people telling him to cut it. Apparently he needed to have some kind of important motivation or something to make it understandable.

“Would you have me be unflattering?” A few beats too late Tobirama finally replied.

“Can you be?” he asked skeptically. “You’re not too much of a prissy royal to mince words with a commoner like me?” The grin he threw was more of a challenge than if he’d tossed a gauntlet on the floor between them and words could not express how thrilled he was when the other took that challenge.

Drawing himself up even as he drew the tapestry out of their way to invite Madara in to the royal apartments, Tobirama affected a mocking glare. “You look death’s head upon a mop stick you foppish, cow-handed gasser. Do you think me uneducated in the lower speech?”

The only response Madara had to that was to throw his head back and wheeze for air, shamelessly holding on to the other’s arm to keep himself upright. Never in his life had he heard something so nonsensical yet delivered with such unadulterated bitchiness. Something told him that none of those insults were in any way related to each other but relevancy was hard to focus on when he could barely think passed how utterly ridiculous it all sounded. Old timey insults were hilarious. Hearing them out of Tobirama’s mouth only made them so much better.

It wasn’t much farther to where they were going but they spent the rest of their walk trading insults that only grew more and more absurd as they went. By the time they stumbled in to a lavish sitting room they were ready to fall over in a dual fit of the giggles, although Tobirama somehow managed to retain a small bit of decorum even in this. Madara was starting to think he would have to challenge the idiot to a mud wrestling competition or something just to see him act entirely like a normal person.

“Right!” he declared as soon as he’d caught enough breath back to form words. “Where’s this sake you were talking about? I’d love to wake up tomorrow and whine about a hangover.”

“If you disrespect my vintage so I may be tempted to defenestrate you.” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow warningly.

While Madara tried to work his way through whatever ‘defenestrate’ was supposed to mean Tobirama stepped over to a side table and removed a small set very similar to something the innkeeper had brought out only once when a military captain happened to pass through their small village and demanded the finest services the poor could offer. Madara hadn’t liked him much but he could remember being very curious of whatever clear booze had been poured for him.

The set of dishes laid out before him was a hundred times fancier than the one at the inn, he could tell that at a single glance. Black lacquered porcelain with fine gold filigree forming what he could only assume was a house crest on each, a matching decanter and a tray with gold trim to carry it all, it probably cost more than the collective entirety of Madara's possessions both here and in the village. He kept his hands carefully by his sides at he leaned closer to admire the craftsmanship of each piece. But when he sat back and looked up he noticed Tobirama watching him expectantly.

“In this weather there is little need for the sake to be chilled elsewhere, as luck would have it.” His tone was casual, if a little impatient. Madara nodded slowly.

“Didn’t know it needed to be cold.”

“Some are served chilled, others served hot. This here is perhaps my favorite. I’m glad of the opportunity to share it with you.”

More curious than ever, all Madara could do was nod again. “Cool. Share as you like.”

A long pause stretched out for what felt like forever in which neither of them moved and he tried to figure out why Tobirama had offered the sake but wasn’t actually moving to serve it. It took a couple minutes before finally the man rolled his eyes with all the drama his brother usually managed and carefully stepped over to fiddle at the delicate ceramic with his thick clawed hands.

“What?” Madara demanded. “You’re looking at me like I’ve done something wrong. I’m just sitting here!”

“Precisely. When sharing a drink one is expected to pour for one’s betters.”

“Ooh, you saying you’re better than me?”

“I never said such a thing.” The serene tone of his voice was a dead giveaway but Madara refused to laugh just yet, clinging to his pretended offense.

With arms crossed he stuck his nose in the air and declared, “You inferred it!”

“One implies. It is up to the recipient to infer, though what inferences you make are surely beyond my control. Heavens forbid I ever claim to understand how a mind such as yours might work.” Tobirama, unfortunately, was much better at playing snooty. No doubt a lifetime of practice was no blame.

“I want to say you just implied that I have a crazy mind but I can’t quite parse it out because you always talk so damn fancy!”

That finally broke his friend. A smile cracked Tobirama’s stern expression and Madara pumped both fists in the air with triumph, eliciting a low chuckle. “Pour the drink, you hooligan, before I am lowered to doing so myself.”

“Now that’s something for the heavens to forbid or whatever.”

Since he had already won Madara figured it wasn’t losing in any way to let himself smile as well as he snatched up the chilly decanter and poured them each a dish of the clear liquid he had only seen once before. Being made of rice he would have thought their little farming village could make this stuff in abundance but for the fact that all of their rice went to paying taxes and supporting the lord of the closest town since technically he owned their land.

Actually, he realized, even more technically Tobirama probably owned the land, though likely no one remembered that.

Clinking their glasses together was a much more delicate affair with such small dishes than he usually witnessed in the rowdy tavern and despite his care Tobirama still rolled those pretty red eyes like he’d done something country bumpkin again. Madara ignored him, tossing back the drink in one mouthful. His abilities had been questioned and he was determined to make a good showing of himself.

Of course, because that was just his luck, he was spluttering and coughing in the next instant as the rice wine burned his throat and his eyes began to water, one fist coming up to pound his chest as though he could beat the sensation back out of himself.

“That stuff has a kick!” he wheezed, much to Tobirama’s obvious amusement.

“It would not have affected you half so much if you were not such a boor as to pour it down your gullet like goat’s milk. Fine sake is meant to be appreciated, not guzzled.”

“A little warning would have been nice!”

“Had I given you warning,” Tobirama murmured, “that would not have been so funny.”

Madara opened his mouth to retort and cut himself off with another coughing fit. He wanted to be annoyed but he also had to admit that he would have done the exact same thing if their positions were reversed. In light of that he grunted and pounded his sternum a few more times without saying anything. He could almost breathe again by the time Tobirama settled next to him on the couch with delicate movements, ever so careful not to spill a drop of his own drink.

A quick look around told him that they didn’t necessarily need to sit right next to each other. Just like the sunroom, there was plenty of furniture here and they would have able to hear each other just fine from different seats. Madara neglected to say anything. Sitting together like this gave the room a much more casual and intimate air so it felt less like dining with the king and more like drinking with a friend. He wondered if that was Tobirama’s intention but didn’t ask, content with the mystery. Instead he reached to pour himself another cup and listened to his friend go off on a lecture about how it was polite to offer one’s companions a refill when one wanted some for themselves.

Several cups later he had convinced Tobirama to give up on the idea of proper manners but he had also somehow managed to lay sideways on the couch with his legs tossed over the arm and his head pillowed against one of his friend’s thighs. Every time Tobirama looked down he began mumbling about propriety again, which for some reason struck Madara as the funniest thing. He kept imagining some highborn lady walking in on them and fainting to see them being so familiar with each other. A few times he imagined Hashirama doing it and that was even better.

“I don’t think I can get up,” he confessed after struggling to reach for the sake yet again and failing to even reach the table. “Might have to just pass out right here.”

“Scandalous,” Tobirama murmured, though it really didn’t sound like an objection.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out too,” Madara noted. He giggled under the squinting eyes that tried to glare him down yet only managed to focus somewhat to the right of where his head actually lay.

“I will have you know that I am per-fen-ec-tally fine.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment while Madara tried to work his way through that.

“What?”

“I’ll not be repeating myself. I am not sure that I could, in fact, as memory seems to have abandoned me. What were we talking about?” Tobirama raised his head again only to drop it back against the couch where one could only assume he was watching the ceiling spin in circles. At least, that’s what Madara was doing.

Wriggling a bit until he’d found a more comfortable position, Madara closed his eyes to block out the world. “I think we were going to sleep.”

“No. No! I had something I wished to discuss with you! Something of utmost importance!”

“Can it wait until we’ve slept?”

“I…yes, alright.” The sheer defeat in Tobirama’s voice in addition to the bone-melting exhaustion of both their bodies was enough to have Madara giggling again, albeit very weakly. Now that he’d said he was tired it was like sleep had grown claws and sunk them in deep, pulling, pulling him down when he was too weak to resist.

Humming pleasantly, turning his face to burrow against the warmth pillowing his head, Madara gave a few sleepy mumbles that might have been translated in some languages as a sort of goodnight. Tobirama mumbled something back but sleep must have gotten its claws in to him too and they were both fading fast. Whatever he said was lost to the ceiling and the uncaring shadows that cradled them deeper in to the night.

A moment later the room was silent but for the even breaths of two men prepared to regret their choice of pastimes come morning.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #kagami #izuna #mito #fanfiction

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sennaleee · 5 years ago

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this ain’t omo but I have a lot of random things to say and no Friends(tm) to say them to, so here’s an info dump/update on my Super Exciting life. Read the tags for a summary I suppose. Also this is really long so sorry. Kudos to anyone who reads all of it, lol.

So y’all know (unless you’re a newer follower, I guess) that the reason I’m MIA basically all the time is because I’m in school. I’m in my last year currently, and while it is absolutely the best year so far, it’s also super isolating. Every 2 weeks I’m doing something different and dealing with different people, and while this is absolutely the greatest thing in the world for me (I tend to get annoyed being around the same people 24/7, which is why the first three years of grad school were probably such a nightmare, haha), it’s also cementing how much of an outcast I am in my class. Like, most people are super nice, and I like getting to know people I haven’t had a chance to talk to much over the time here (my class is essentially high school with how many cliques there are, I stg it’s ridiculous we’re all 23+ years old and have a “don’t sit with us” attitude), but there are also random instances where someone I considered a friend is actually kind of a bitch and acts in a way that makes it very obvious that me speaking in her presence is the worst part of the day.

There are also people I have to work with who are legit working in my school - they are getting PAID to help teach me - and they very clearly do not want students around, which is so frustrating. I got a bad grade for one of my 2 week classes just because I wouldn’t take shit from them and stood up for myself. I was literally graded on my personality and was done so in a way that my feedback contradicted itself so like how could it even be trusted? This probably makes no sense. I’m trying to be somewhat vague and it’s just making everything confusing sorry. >.<

And then there’s the random superior who just does not give a frick about your time and thinks that what they want should be your #1 priority, but you’re also doing things for 3 other superiors simultaneously that are more time sensitive than what the first superior wants and then you lose an ENTIRE LETTER GRADE for that class because you “didn’t ask for help when you were overwhelmed” except for the fact that I DID ask for help from the first superior and was promptly shut down because she “has her own things to do.” God, I’m bitter.

I have all this stuff to complain about, but I have to emphasize that I am seriously having the time of my life. Some classes are better than others, but this year is for working out what we want for our future, and if nothing else, the classes I hate are helping me learn not to go into those specialties. And for every not-so-great mentor/superior, there are least 5 that are absolutely amazing, so there’s that. The bad ones are just the ones that stick in my head.

Despite being great though, everything is so mentally and emotionally draining. LIke, my recent class had a section where we had to handle parr/ots (yeah, if this doesn’t give away my school program, I don’t know what will...and yes I’m literally censoring the word ‘parr/ot’ don’t judge me.) and I was perfectly fine one minute and the second I’m just freaking sobbing over this bird and my partner is trying to draw blood from it and I can’t even see through my own tears so I had to make her stop and the instructor had to come over and try to calm me down and take the bird from me and I still don’t know why I cried? Literally the only thing I can think of is that maybe the bird was stressed and I somehow subconsciously realized that before I consciously did and my body’s way to get my attention was to just go “it is time to sob” and so I did. We did have to put that particular bird back immediately afterward because she was getting too warm, but normally I’m able to, you know, use my words to warn people about things like that instead of having an emotional breakdown out of nowhere.

Anyway. This is getting super long, and I also want to throw in - on a totally unrelated and very random note - that I saw It Cha/pter 2 today and I won’t spoil it but wow if anyone else wants to talk to me about that hit me up. I’ll probably be writing “normal” stuff about that for awhile because it made me angry and sad (and to think that I absolutely spoiled the entire thing for myself prior to even going to see it and that still wasn’t enough to keep me from crying in the theater, jfc I’m a disaster) and I don’t feel much of an urge to write omo for it but still want to write /something/ so I guess if anyone’s interested in reading that from me message me and I can let you know if I ever write it and post it somewhere.

K if you can believe it I actually had even more to say in regards to school and general social issues, but this is already hella long, so maybe I’ll come back to do another “Senn is a disaster” info dump in a few months or something.

Hope you all are doing well. <3

#school stuff #this is almost all venting #but there's also a random paragraph about 'it chapter 2' so like #that's near the end and there's no spoilers #hello and goodbye friends one day i will be out of school and i've been assured living as an actual Adult is a lot easier #and i'll supposedly be less exhausted and so will have time for my hobbies lol #also i take boards in 2 months so once that's over i'll be less stressed overall #that'll also help immensely #but speaking of boards i should probably study a bit now #later friendos <3 #also i did not reread through this essay of a post so pardon any typos

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gatewaygeek · 6 years ago

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A fic I've always wanted to read...

Vulcans allow Humans to stay on Vulcan after a natural disaster destroys Earth (and several billion people). Humans have dwindled in numbers, it went from 7 billion to 3 million. Everything is going fine until Vulcans decide to segregate, noticing how Vulcan younglings are expressing human actions.

The Humans do not argue. It is their planet, the humans sre simply living on it. Most begin to dedicate their lives to building a warp-capable ship to take them to a new colony. When the next generations come, interest is lost in leaving. This is home now.

The human young now have PADDs. One kid climbs to the top of a building and takes a picture over the wall and posts it online; it goes viral in hours.

There is now a picture of Vulcan society, advanced, clean, and unperturbed. The human young are angry. They want a revolution. The adults don't want to seem ungrateful, they tell the young to mind their manners and stop spensing so much time on their PADDs. Some even get them taken away.

In an attempt to calm the nerves of the young, the Humans and the Vulcans decide to elect one child to attend a Vulcan school, to test if the humans are ready for integration. That child was a young boy named Jim Kirk, with no father and a mother who makes minimum wage. His brother had to take up a job at age sixteen to get Jim new clothes for school and help pay the bills. He makes even less.

Jim is ecstatic. He can't wait to learn new things. He is given advice from his mother the day he goes to school.

"Don't mind them, Jimmy. Don't you mind them one bit. They ain't like you, they ain't got the right to judge you. Only God and your Momma can do that." She sends him off with a kiss on his forehead.

That day, Jim is stared at and whispered about, but he's incredibly shy about being there, so he doesn't say anything. He only speaks in the learning pits.

His pit had been programmed to be more fit for his own mind and to become increasingly harder over time. The Vulcan High Council is surprised to see that Jim does well, even when he gets into Quadratic equations, Advanced Chemistry, and Physics. He is accused of cheating. When asked his perspective, Jim says simply;

"It's all numbers, sir. Numbers aren't difficult. It's all just countin', right? Momma always said that if I can do well in Math, I'd be goin' places... I didn't wanna disappoint her."

This attracts the attention of a young Vulcan boy, a few years older than Jim. The Vulcan ambassador's son; Spock.

Jim is packing up one day when the bullies start to come. They tell him his learning pit is easy, that they'll never integrate, that the humans are inferior beings that don't deserve their patience. Jim is pushed down, and his PADD gets broken. Spock intervenes swiftly, tells them to leave at once. Jim is looking at his PADD, lips taut and tears in his eyes that he is trying hard to keep in. Spock frowns.

"You are crying." Jim wipes his tears, frustrated.

"I apologize for the display of emotion." The words are routine. "Thank you for assisting me." Spock leans down and helps Jim up.

"It is of no inconvenience to me. What is your name?" The human looks up at him.

"I'm James Tiberius Kirk, Sir." Spock lifts the ta'al.

"Greetings, James Tiberius Kirk. I am Spock." Jim lifts his shaking hand and does his best to return the gesture.

"You can call me Jim, if you want. Saying my full name is extensive."

"Jim." He looks at the device in Jim's other hand, and notices that the screen is cracked. "Your PADD is broken."

"Yeah... That's the third one this month. My mom's gonna have a coniption. Can't afford to get this one fixed."

"I see." Spock takes out his PADD. "You may borrow mine. I will get yours fixed." Jim looks hopeful.

"Really?"

"Indeed. The passcode is 01 13 01 14 04 01." The two switch PADDs.

"Thank you so much, Spock."

"You are welcome, Jim."

"Spock," a deep voice said, and Spock looked at a taller Vulcan. "Your caretaker has arrived. You must go."

"Yes, Sa-mekh." Spock looked back to Jim, and lifted the ta'al once more. "Farewell, James Kirk. Live long and prosper." Jim lifted the ta'al again, being careful not to drop the PADD.

"Peace and long life. Farewell, Spock." The two Vulcans left, and Jim was left with Spock's PADD.

Spock fixes the PADD with little issue, and is surprised to see there is no passcode on it. He justifies his snooping by assuring himself it's only to make sure all the settings work. He reads through messages, looks through pictures, looks at his study material, reads human literature, listens to human music, and eventually finds Jim's personal log. He is almost brought to tears; the human suffers often. He admits he doesn't eat regularly, so that they'll be able to afford heat. He admits he wants a job, maybe then they'll be able to save up for the lavender sweater his mother wanted for her birthday last month. He admits he has an anxiety disorder, and can't afford help. He admits he missed his father, despite never having met him. He admits that Vulcan is not home, Jim never really thought he had a home, and he admitted that the lack of one leaves Jim feeling uneasy.

But what gets to Spock the most is the most recent one.

He says how excited he is to go to the Vulcan Learning Center. He says he wants to learn everything he can, he wants to make friends, he wants to experience life outside the Human Expanse (the territory given to the Humans upon arrival). He doesn't want to let his mother and brother down.

"Momma told me not to mind any of 'em. But if I don't, how do I know if I'm doin' well? It's difficult, but I'm doin' better than they thought I would. That gives me hope that maybe Vulcans and Humans can live together. Maybe I'll find a home there."

Jim uses the PADD to study. He is enthralled by all the new information, and spends the whole night reading the Teachings of Surak. He understands more complex math equations, writing them down and spending hours solving them. He memorized the diagram of warp cores, and Vulcan anatomy. He was ecstatic.

The next day, Jim performs with flying colors, meets ever challenge head-on because he understands. Finally, he understands! He loves studying the Vulcan material, and when it came time to exchange PADDs with Spock, he was sad to watch it go. Spock notices, and asks why.

"Your studying feature is so much more interesting compared to mine," he admitted. "I read all of Surak's teachings last night."

"I... Admit that I found your human music and literature fascinating," Spock said in a quiet voice. "Perhaps we could exchange PADDs once a week?" Jim's eyes lit up, and Spock's heart stuttered.

"Really? That would be awesome!" He said, trying to keep his excitement contained. Spock didn't smile, but his eyes softened.

"Indeed. Perhaps Tuesdays would work best?"

"Sounds good to me."

"I look forward to it, James." Jim's cheeks tinted at the use of his full name.

"Me too." The two part to their shuttles home.

Spock and Jim develop their relationship through those PADDs for months. Jim would bookmark his favorite stories and illegally download songs. Spock would leave complex equations and write poetry for him. Jim starts to catch on that Spock listens to his personal log, and stops for a while before he starts talking about Spock in his personal logs. Spock makes his own personal logs. They communicate this way, as they can't exchange PADD numbers.

It's three years later, when Spock is graduating from fhe Vulcan Learning Center that Jim gets anxious. Spock assures him they will see each other, that he would miss Jim's voice. Jim kisses Spock.

Spock kisses back.

They date in secret for months before Jim is told that the integration wasn't working, and he would be sent back to the Human Expanse. Jim fights it, and Spock supports him. He takes it to court, where both humans and vulcans are in the jury. Jim is asked to make his testimony.

"Seventy two years, eight months, and twelve days ago, the Humans suffered a natural disaster that destroyed our planet. We were taken in by the Vulcans, and for that, we are grateful. We were segregates, and we didn't fight, because this is your planet. We abided by your rules.

"Seventy two years, eight months, and twelve days later, a new generation is leading a revolution. A generation that has never seen Earth. This is as much our home as it is yours; and yet, we are not seen as equal. And maybe you are right. Maybe we will never be as smart as you, or as strong. But the truth is, it doesn't matter.

"Over the past several years of my integration. I met a Vulcan, and we entered an intimate relationship. We are proof that Humans and Vulcans can work, if you give humans the same opportunities to succeed. But maybe I'm a special case. Maybe I was given a better education in the Human expanse. So, I have decided to tell you of my life prior to the integration.

"When I was three, my father died. Cancer. My mother took a job, making minimum wage, which was about eight dollars an hour. Our inflation didn't help. My brother obtained a job when he was sixteen, and he made even less. I went to public school, and often didn't eat so we could afford to stay in a heated home. Regular meals was a luxury few humans could afford.

"The Integration offered hope for me and my family. I might be able to make something of myself. But it truly would all be for naught if you took me, a human that has passed all your tests and succeeded your expectations, and put me back where I was, not given the chance to use what I have learned. I am but one man. Imagine what would happen if you exposed humans to the Teachings of Surak, taught them fairly and gave them the chance to prove themselves. Don't stop integration simply because you don't like change. We can all benefit if we work together."

Jim's voice is heard. It's his testimony that integrates Vulcan and Human society. Jim and Spock found Starfleet, a branch of the VSA to help humans catch up with the Vulcans and teach them how to reach for the stars.

#not beta read #not beta'd #spirk #this could be much longer #star trek au #star trek

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thesilverstaganddoe · 5 years ago

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PSY 153: Psychology and the Law (Killing Eve Fic) Chapter 3

AO3 Link Chapter [1] [2]

Chapter 3: Late Work

It was two and a half weeks into the quarter and the vast majority of the class was (1) highly entertained and (2) incredibly confused about expectations.

For the most part, the two professors traded off every other lecture. Dr. Astankova had set up a thread on the online discussion board for everyone to submit their favorite songs and on her lecture days she liked to play them during periodic breaks in the class. She had a tendency to dance along to them if she liked them (and had brought coffee with her that day) and often attempted to drag Dr. Polastri up to dance with her. Dr. Polastri generally appeared quite irritated by the whole thing.

Dr. Polastri was good about answering questions, she seemed to want to know her students were engaged. Dr. Astankova was...a little more unpredictable. She loved certain questions, if the particular question seemed to specifically intrigue her she could easily go off on a fast-paced, overly excited tangent. On the other hand, if it required her to repeat herself or she just didn’t particularly seem to care, it was clear on her face and in her voice.

They were both big fans of eating in class, though, which the students definitely appreciated. One day, Dr. Astankova brought donuts for the entire class and, not to be outdone, the next day Dr. Polastri brought everyone coffee. They did seem to agree on that: coffee was vital. But, then again, most everyone agreed on that.

-------

Eve wandered into their kitchen, looking for Oksana. “Babe?”

“Mmhmm?” Oksana was distracted, attempting to stir several pots on the stove at once.

“Did we decide what our late work policy is?”

Oksana groaned dramatically. “So this is a school discussion? I’m making you dinner , don’t ruin the romance!”

Eve stifled a laugh. “I see. What are you making, babe?”

“Well, it’s a new and creative take on Shepherd's pie.”

“Why is it in a pot? Is it a Shepherd's pie soup?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“It is it now?”

“Possibly.”

Eve laughed, coming up behind her wife to rest her hands on Oksana’s hips and kiss the back of her neck. “I’m sure it’ll be great, honey.”

“We may need takeout.”

“You’re trying. You made it further than I would have and you somehow always manage to pull things together at the last minute no matter what kind of disasters occurred up until that point.”

Oksana gave her a cheeky grin. “Did you need to talk about the class?”

Eve took a seat at the island. “Yeah. One of the students emailed me about that paper that’s due on Friday. She’s hoping she could turn it in late, her grandfather passed away and his funeral is that day. I told her it’s probably fine but I didn’t remember if we’d decided our policy so I needed to ask you.”

“Why couldn’t she just finish it early?”

“She’s grieving, Oksana.”

“I still think she could do it. I mean is she crying nonstop? I guess that might prevent her.”

“You really don’t understand the concept do you?”

“Not really. Did someone kill him? If she’s angry she probably should just find a way to get that out. You know, go for a run. Punching bag. Something like that. That’s what I did when my dad was killed.”

“I think it was cancer. Grief isn’t really about anger for most people. It’s just...emptiness.”

Oksana leaned back against the counter and bit her lip, staring at Eve with a mix of confusion and discomfort on her face.

“I still don’t see how that prevents her from doing the paper sometime in the next three days. But if you feel strongly about it, that’s fine.”

“Okay, I’ll let her know.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the bubbling of the pots on the stove. Oksana had shifted her gaze to the ground and was chewing on her lip and twisting a kitchen towel in her hands.

“Are you okay?” Eve asked her.

“I...feel like I’m cold. Or at least I worry that you think I am.”

Eve got up from the island and came over to her, pausing to turn off the stove, before she took the towel from Oksana’s hands and held them.

“I don’t think that.” Oksana didn’t respond. “Babe, look at me.” Oksana slowly lifted her gaze and Eve could the beginning of tears starting at the edges of her eyes. “I don’t think that,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against Oksana’s. “I think that you see some things differently than I do. I don’t think you’re as quick to consider the emotional aspects of a situation as other people might be. That doesn’t mean you never consider them at all. That doesn’t mean you don’t care. Oksana, I don’t think that you’re cold .”

Oksana looked away from Eve, but Eve could still see the tear that had slipped down her cheek.

“Honey, you’re literally crying about this while you make me dinner. You love me. You’re not cold.”

Oksana sniffed and nodded, pulling a hand from Eve’s to rub at her eye. Eve pulled her into a tight hug and Oksana wound her arms around Eve’s waist, face pressed into her neck. After a couple minutes she took a deep breath and pulled away, returning to the stove where she busied herself with spoons and spices.

“Oh, by the way, I gave someone else an extension on that other assignment from yesterday. Someone came to office hours today. Kaitlyn, I think?”

Oksana clearly no longer wanted to continue the conversation.

“Okay, what for?”

“Mm, well she said she got drunk and had a one night stand. It ran pretty late so she couldn’t make the midnight deadline. She’s going to email it in by tonight.”

“Oh my god, Oksana, what kind of excuse is that?”

Oksana shrugged. “I don’t think it’s an excuse, I think it actually happened.”

“I’m not arguing that it didn’t happen, I’m asking how you could have accepted that as a reason to give an extension.”

“I don’t know, it’s something I would have done in college.”

Eve sighed and close her eyes, planting her hands on the counter. “We have got to standardize our rules.”

#killing eve #killing eve fanfic #killing eve fic #fanfic #fics #killing eve au #au #killing eve university au #killing eve teacher au #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #killing eve ao3 #my posts #my fics

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wrenbee · 6 years ago

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Inquisitor as a Companion!

Tagged by @galadrieljones and @thevikingwoman Thank you!!! This was SO much fun! Also had to get a new screenshot of her :)

Inquisitor’s Name: Aura Lavellan Race / Class / Specialisation: Dalish Elf/Mage/Healer Gender Identity: Female Varric’s Nickname for them: Sprout

Short bio: Aura is a healer and herbalist of Clan Lavellan. She grew up in The Free Marches, around the forested swamps along the Minanter. She came into her magic at the age of four and trained with her grandmother, Keeper Deshanna. She is very close to her grandmother and with her guidance, Aura grew up to handle her own magic with precision. Her magic is very connected to the natural world and she can charge all kinds of things with her emotional energy. When not tending to the sick or wounded, she would always wander the surrounding forests, gathering herbs and ingredients for her work. Aura is quiet and thoughtful but warms up quickly to people who show her kindness. She is highly sensitive, almost empathic, and a nurturer at heart. Just before Inquisition, she would have been helping refugees affected by Mage Rebellion. She would have been working near and around Kirkwall and would have worked closely with Merrill. She was also responsible for convincing her Clan to welcome numerous Elven refugees into their camp. After the events of the Conclave, Deshanna asked her to find, help, and bring back any of the surviving Clan Lavellan spies. No one survived, and Aura got caught up helping the refugees in the Hinterlands. What would their companion card look like? A take on the ace of wands. She would be holding onto her staff that is sprouting with new growth and little flower buds. Some of the leaves have been taken by the wind and are drifting toward a darkening horizon. Recruitment mission: Find the Dalish Healer- The Herald will approach Varric in Haven and he would say something like “There is a…friend of a friend in the Hinterlands that wants in on the Inquisition, a Dalish girl that set up camp near the crossroads. She’s out there helping the wounded, maybe she could be of use. Adan could sure use the help.” Aura would be found at a little camp just outside the crossroads tending to several sick/hurt people. She will be wary of anyone armed approaching, but will be excited to learn it is the Inquisition. The Herald can comment on her being a Dalish mage in the middle of a war zone, to which she will reply, “I can handle myself.” She’s eager to help, but there is the option to refuse or accept her. If accepted, she will make sure the people under her care are better before meeting the Herald in Haven. Where they would be in Skyhold / Haven: In Haven, Aura would be found in the apothecary helping Adan. At Skyhold, she will be found in the gardens, often planting things. Personal quests: Basically just of playable version of Protect Clan Lavellan. Quest 1: A War Table mission where Aura will ask the inquisitor to help her look into some strange bandit attacks her clan has been experiencing. If the inquisitor does, they will find out that they were hired by the Duke of Wycome. Quest 2: After the war table mission is complete, Aura will beg the inquisitor to come with her to help to protect her clan. If the inquisitor refuses, Aura will GREATLY disapprove. If the inquisitor agrees to go, they will confront the Duke of Wycome which ends in his death and basically saving the city from Red lyrium poison. Aura is reunited with the Keeper in a very personal moment where the Inquisitor gets to see just how close they are to each other. The rest of her clan expresses their approval, which is something Aura never experienced from them. The inquisitor gets a fancy new Dalish inspired staff (Its Aura’s grandmother’s and, I mean, should really go to Aura. Just sayin’.) Quest 3: Not really a quest, just a follow up cutscene. If the inquisitor refused to help Aura they find out that her grandmother has died, along with the rest of her clan. She is distraught and says that she should have been there for her people. There is no chance for the inquisitor to romance her with this outcome. If the inquisitor helped, Aura will tell them that her clan is doing well, along with the elves in Wycome. She will tell them how grateful she is for their help and their friendship.This is where the inquisitor can lock her romance! Commence happy smooches!

How to get their approval: Helping people will get you mega approval with Aura. Any dialogue option where the inquisitor is just nice to her? She was always a bit of a loner and will jump at the chance to have a friend. Also, commending her sensitivity! She needs the support! She will approve of allying with the mages or disbanding the Templars, allying with the Grey Wardens, forcing the Orlesians into a public truce, doing the rituals in temple. She will also approve of judgments the Inquisitor carries out if the prisoner’s life is spared. How to get their disapproval: Dialogue options that berate her or are just plain mean. Killing people who could be saved. Indirectly killing her grandmother by brushing of her personal quest. She will generally disapprove of a power driven Inquisitor. Are they romanceable? YES! Someone please love her! She gives soft, slow kisses in the gardens ;) Can you have sex with them? Yis. Are they open to polyamoury? No.

If they can be romanced and are not, will they begin a relationship / relationships with other character(s)? If so, who? If she nor Solas are romanced by the quizzy, she will fall for the pretty elven man. If Solas is romanced she will fall for the giant hunky beard man, Blackwall. If none of them are romanced, it would just depend on who got to who first in the party banter MWAHAHAHA. Who are they friendly with? Solas, Cole, Blackwall, Sera, and and Dorian, Josie, Varric….and just EVERYONE. Who do they dislike? No one! She wants to be friends with everyone. Companion card changes: (use a text descrip. if you have no images) Loyalty: A version of The Star: A giant star illuminates the night sky. She’s at the edge of a river, her staff in full bloom in one hand, rain falling from the other hand into the river. (I need to find someone doing tarot commissions!) Romance: (if any) Same as loyalty. The love of a friend is just as powerful to her as the love of a, well, lover lol. Side Missions: (eg: fetch / gather / kill quests) Help Aura find 5 rare herbs. Find various herbs across the map. Extra approval if she is in the party. Once completed, a new type of health potion can be equipped. Opinions on mages / templars / how the world is going to shit? Very distrustful of the Chantry and Templars, mostly because she does not completely understand them. She does not hate them, and would not refuse to help either side. She just knows how magic was handled in her clan and is strongly against locking people away and treating them as less than, no matter who they are. She is terrified of Corypheus and what his plans are, but wants to do whatever she can to makes sure they don’t happen. She’d rather be in the thick of the disaster, trying to help, than sitting by watching the world fall apart. Something guaranteed to make them leave the party: An evil inquisitor. She would have a limit to how much she could disapprove before leaving. Like a combination of not doing her quest and killing the Sentinels would for sure push her over the edge. Wanna see an Aura cry giant, angry anime tears? Let her grandmother die or kill the sentinels. Special Events: Imprisoned at Redcliffe: How is your Inquisitor holding up in Redcliffe, being slowly infected with red lyrium over the course of a year? Not very well. She would be near lost to madness, lying on the floor in a cell, murmuring to herself about being useless. She will think she has completely lost her mind when the Herald and Dorian approach and say she is just “seeing things again.” When told they are trying to fix things she will pick herself up and agree to help. At the Winter Palace: Does your Inquisitor enjoy the party, any special events with them at the Palace? *In this AU ball gowns are a thing!* Aura would be tucked away in the guest garden, trying to stay away from the gawking Orlesians. She would be very nervous and uncomfortable at the beginning of the night, commenting: “These puffy sleeves are awful. I almost knocked over an antique vase! *nervous laugh*.” However, after a few drinks she will actually start to enjoy herself. She’ll giggle and attempt to whisper “I took my shoes off.” To a romanced Inquisitor : *hiccups* “Can we dance later?!” Or if she is with Solas or Blackwall and they are in the party:

Inquisitor: “You’re blushing!”

Aura: “Am I?! *laughs* “Solas/Blackwall asked me to dance…”

In the Fade: Your Inquisitor’s reaction upon entering the Fade? Archdemon’s taunt, and Inquisitor’s response? Epitaph on their grave? Aura would be terrified initially. Anything she had experienced in the Fade prior to this would not compare. She does not handle the energy of that particular area of the fade well. It makes her feel nauseous. The Nightmare would probably say something like, “Silly girl, how could you possibly be of any help. You can’t even keep yourself together.” To which is would respond,“You don’t know me.” Her gravestone would read “Weakness” Trespasser: What is your Inquisitor up to two years after Corypheus’ defeat? Any special events with them over the events of Trespasser? If romanced by the Inquisitor, she would stay by their side, helping anyway she could, especially with the worsening condition of the anchor. They can get married in Trespasser! If Solas left her *sobs* she would have gone back to her clan for a while. She would make her way back to the Hinterlands, run her own little clinic, and help people there get back on their feet. She would still end up living alone in a little cottage there. If she was with Blackwall, now Thom, they both would have gone back to the Free Marches together for a while. Thom makes his reconciliations, she reconnects with her clan. They have a small Dalish wedding <3. They would still come back to the Hinterlands and share her little cottage.. And you know…there’s the possibility she could end up his widow *sobbing intensifies*.

Tagging @ladylike-foxes @buttsonthebeach @dreadhobo @mistressdreadwolf (only if you want) and anyone else who sees this! PLEASE TAG ME! This is such a fun meme and I LOVE reading them!

#Aura Lavellan #my oc #inquisitor as companion #this inspired me so much #like really got me in Aura's head #for the first time in a long while #ahhh

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igotmysteriousmessages · 7 years ago

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Rfa and Mc have a discussion and after Mc goes out really sad and disappointed she gets caught in a bad accident. And the Rfa is really sorry. Please write it with an happy end❤️

My first Request!! Thanks :) and sorry it took so long…I kind of got a little carried away with some scenarios and editing took ages…but I hope you like it :)

(Also I might add Saeran’s it’s not spoiler free… I mean I don’t think there are huge spoilers but it’s better not risk it)

MC gets in an accident after a discussion with RFA

Yoosung

It was your first big fight. He was in a bad mood; you had had a rough day too. He buried his feeling into lolol while you arrived needing some of his attention. You yelled at him in frustration, he yelled back.

It escalated quickly and finally you decided to leave his house. Both of you needed time to sort out your emotions before you said something you’d regret later.

Between your tears and all the thoughts clouding your mind you didn’t notice the traffic light changing nor the bus speeding out.

Yoosung regrets the fight in the moment you leave the house but he hesitates; he is not sure if he should let some time pass by for you two to calm down or run right after you.

After a while he picks the second option, but it’s a little late. He finds you just in time to see as you are being carried into the ambulance badly injured and unconscious.

He goes to the paramedics; he tells them he is your boyfriend and begs them to allow him to go with you in the ambulance.

When you wake up in your hospital bed he is right beside you apologizing for his behavior and asking how you are feeling. Even after you tell him it’s not his fault he still feels awful about the fight; it takes you a while to convince him that everything is alright

While you are at the hospital he visits you every day. He arrives right after his classes are over and just leaves after being told the visiting hours are over.

Before leaving he always reminds you to call him whatever happens… and if you do he is probably running to your side even if it’s at 3 am.

Also, no matter how much it pains him to see you in that state. He always wears his biggest smile during his visits and makes sure you don’t get depressed.

When you are finally discharged he reserves the whole day to stay with you and promises to never yell at you like that again.

Zen

You knew Zen was a workaholic but lately he was getting completely out of control. He would wake up at dawn to get to his rehearsals and would only come back home late at night too tired to even talk to you

One day you waited him awake and tried to talk to him about but he felt like you didn’t understand how important his job was. You started arguing but both of you quickly lost the main focus and suddenly you didn’t know what was it about anymore.

You ran away feeling hurt and defeated.

Usually when you two fought he would take a short ride on his bike before remembering how worried you would be about him doing that again… in your angered state you decided to give it a try.

You quickly understood why Zen would do this, as you circled around the neighborhood at top speed all your problems seemed small; you had never felt so free. Then you met a quite sharp turn.

Zen heard the crash from the rooftop and saw a bike that weirdly resembled his collide into a wall.

At first he didn’t understand what was happening but he felt a knot in his stomach. He called out for you just to find out you weren’t home and his motorcycle was gone.

He called an ambulance and quickly ran to the place of the accident.

When you wake up he doesn’t mention the fight nor lets you mention it. That’s not important in that moment. You are safe, you two are together and he is never going to make you feel like that again… and that’s all that matters.

He’ll try to care for you the best of his abilities which mostly means him taking some time off work and giving you lots of affection.

Also you might need to promise him to never ride his motorcycle alone again…who am I kidding? You’ll need to promise that at least a few times before his heart can rest.

Jaehee

You two didn’t argue a lot but when you did fight it quickly got out of control.

It had been a chaotic week. The café had been packed every hour of every day; you had had problems with your coffee provider; your cakes seemed to never rise; after work hours the place was always made a disaster and on top of that Jaehee got mad at you for forgetting it was your turn to clean up the house…couldn’t she notice you had been as busy as she was? You snapped and yelled at her, then without waiting for her to react you left the apartment you both shared.

Jaehee didn’t know what to do. A part of her was still angry; the other knew it had been unfair to take out her stress on you. She took a shower to clear out her head and when she came out she heard her phone ringing.

“Hello, is this Jaehee Kang? I’m calling from Seoul’s general hospital because you are signaled as Miss mc’s emergency contact…is this information right?”

Her heart stops on the spot. Her world starts to crumble down and for a moment she is unable to react… then she realizes there is no time to panic. She somehow answers to the call and calls a taxi to go to you.

At first she can barely look at you so she focuses on talking to the doctor trying to discover what had happened after you discussion and what can she do for you.

Apparently on your way out you took the stairs instead of the elevator and slipped. She felt awful. She had been so close yet she hadn’t been there for you.

The next few days she is completely focused on nursing you till the point you think she forgot about the fight; actually you were beginning to do that too.

One night after you are finally released from the hospital and free of bandages and you two are cuddling in bed she confesses “I was so scared when I heard you got hurt…please, let’s never fight so stupidly again, I’m sorry”

Jumin

The problem with Jumin being so rational was that when you argued you felt like you were fighting alone.

You were trying to explain him that sometimes you felt suffocated having bodyguards following wherever you go. You didn’t really fight but the way he told you it you needed to get used to it felt so cold it hurt more than an actual fight would.

Jumin wasn’t really sure why would you get so angry at his response but he figured out you needed time to calm down and that everything would be alright in the morning; But surprisingly enough sleeping did nothing to calm you down and finding the penthouse all empty in the morning didn’t lift your mood.

That was when you took your decision. You were going to go out on your own.

You told both your bodyguards and driver Kim to take the day off and then you angrily walked through the door without looking back.

You found a park and sit on a bench. You felt so free and calm without having anybody looking at you but after a while you started to feel petty for leaving like that and overall; you started to miss your husband.

Then your cellphone started to ring. You expected it to be Jumin but it was Jaehee instead.

She told you she had received a call from security and before interrupting Jumin’s meeting to tell him she had decided to give you a call to make sure you were ok.

The way she asked you knew she was asking not as part of her job but as a fellow RFA member so you told her everything. After that you felt your pain way lighter to the point you felt ready to fix things with your husband.

You told Jaehee to tell Jumin you’d be back home before him so he shouldn’t worry and started heading back.

Then as you were going through a empty zone of the park you found yourself surrounded by 3 armed men. 2 pointed their guns at you and the other urged you to give him all your valuables.

You slowly handed him your purse along with your necklace and earrings but as you were taking out your wedding ring you hesitated.

In that moment you heard people approaching. The thieves panicked. One fired his gun. Then the 3 of them ran away. The last thing you heard before collapsing were the words “We found her. Contact Mr. Han”

You wake up on a hospital bed with Jumin sitting on a chair besides you. His eyes are puffy and red and huge eye bags hang under them. He also looks paler.

He starts asking questions: what happened? Why did you do something so reckless?

You know he is not really mad at you; just dead worried so you try to explain to him as calmly as you can. He listens without interrupting and just after you finish he answers.

“I know this kind of life is frustrating and I truly understand you’d want your independence… If I insist on having you surrounded by bodyguards is not because I don’t trust you can do things on your own but because I’m scarred something like this might happen and I might lose you…if it is too much to stand it…if you think you’ll be happier that way…You can back off, I won’t stop you… but if you want to stay with me… I’d like you to stay with me”

“We’ll make this work…together” you extend your hand to catch his and you know it’s true.

Saeyoung

Saeyoung and you did bicker a lot, but it never lasted long.

The real reason he got mad was not the fight itself it was because after you two started yelling Saeran had gone to find out what was happening and in your angered state you had answered why were you mad at his brother.

Saeyoung felt like you were putting his brother against him and told you that if he was such an awful boyfriend you could leave in such a cold tone you really believed he wanted you to go away… then he went to his office and locked the door.

You started to walk to the door and left the house crying.

Saeran didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to interfere in your relationship but he knew how hurt Saeoyung would be if he lose you, so he decide he at least should tell him you had left.

Saeyoung felt awful but decided it was for the best; he knows he hurt you and doesn’t want the chance to do it again… yet he couldn’t stop staring at your contact info on his phone but without daring to call you…after an hour or so he decides to go for a drive.

When he slips into his car he finds your purse.

Now he is dead worried. In your heartbroken state you hadn’t take anything with you. Not your cellphone nor money and It’s late at night…he had assumed you had called a taxi and were at the apartment or at another member’s house… but all those places were far away …where are you? Are you ok?

He practically runs back into his office and starts hacking into the street security cameras. He tells himself that all he needs is to see you arrive to a safe place. Instead he watches impotently as a man grabs you from the back with the intention to mug you and as you show him you got nothing on you he buries a knife in your middle and runs away.

You are not that far from his house. He hops back into the car and speeds up to find you. When he finds you, you are unconscious but he is glad you are still alive.

You wake up in the morning with your wound bandaged and on Saeyoung’s bed but there is no signal of him sleeping there.

“Saeyoung? Saeran? Is someone around?” you ask tentatively at the empty room and hear the twins talking outside. Saeyoung still not wanting to see you after your fight.

The door opens and Saeran pushes his brother inside before quickly leaving.

He doesn’t dare to get close to you. He just shyly asks how you are feeling. It’s awkward and uncomfortable. Neither of you knows how to continue so after that you are left in silence.

After a while he starts crying and apologizing, he never wanted you to go away, much less to be in danger. No matter what you tell him it’s not until you try to get out of the bed to go comfort him that he snaps out of it and starts listening to the fact that you aren’t mad anymore.

He retails that you shouldn’t leave the bed; you need to rest to recover so you tell him you need your boyfriend to cuddle with you to feel better; he smiles at you and obliges as he promises to himself he’ll never let a silly fight go so much out of control again.

Jihyun

Firstly, one of my main headcanons for Jihyun is that it is almost impossible to get into a big fight with him. Like sure, small arguments that end up after a few minutes, yeah! That happens. But this guy almost never loses control.

In that sense I think arguing with him is very similar to Jumin’s case, not because he acts too rational though, but because he remains calm no matter what…so I guess that would be the real problem here.

You two were arguing about something without much importance, what made you storm out the room wasn’t the matter of your discussion but his refusal to acknowledge you anger towards it.

He feels the need to fix things with you right after you close the door so he hurries up to follow you.

Since you are still angry you don’t slow down as he calls out for you but start walking faster.

You saw the truck advancing towards you but you thought you could run fast enough to get to the other side of the street before it passing by; when the driver saw you he tried to slow down but still he couldn’t avoid hitting you.

Jihyun watched all of this unfolding and felt his heart break as you laid on the street crying in pain.

He called an ambulance and dared to go to you. At first he doesn’t know what to do (this guy probably doesn’t know much of first aids and definitely is scared of worsening the situation while trying to help) so he starts to talking to you to keep you conscious till professional help arrives.

He tells you how much he loves and appreciates you, he promises everything will be alright, he reminds you he will always be there for you even if you are angry at him and is just very sweet to you; you can work things out later, right now his biggest concern is your wellbeing.

While you are at the hospital he is with you all time and makes sure you are as comfortable as possible.

He doesn’t mention the fight till weeks later. One day you are just hanging out at home and he asks you about that night. Now that you are both calmer you explain him what bothered you and he explains you that is part of his personality and that it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t acknowledge your feelings.

Saeran (Spoilers ahead)

After you two left mint eye and started dating you knew there were going to be bad days. Nobody gets magically cured of his trauma just because they are in love… especially not somebody that has gone through that much pain. You tried to be comprehensive and supportive; to not let those awful things he told you when he was at his worst get to you. You knew he didn’t mean that. He loved you with all his heart…Yet some of those days were too much for you.

He said something he shouldn’t have; something that touched a very sensitive scar in your heart.

He didn’t know you were insecure about that. Even though a part of him wanted to hurt you he didn’t imagine you would react so strongly to his comment; when he saw you running away from him and in tears he felt like the biggest jerk in the world.

He didn’t feel in the right to follow or call you to apologize but as the storm outside got worse he started to get worried

His most rational part told him to check the chat room… if you wanted to get away your first option would be stay with another RFA member, wouldn’t it be? But there was no trace of you in there. Nobody knew anything either.

As a signal, his phone rang. It was Saeyoung.

“Hey… I don’t know how to tell you this, but after what you said in the chatroom I hacked into the hospital’s database… just to be sure…and well…I’m on my way to your house right now, you’ll need a ride”

He didn’t answer. He wasn’t even able to move. When his brother arrived he was still standing on the same spot with the cellphone on his hand.

He didn’t say it but he was glad he didn’t have to go there alone. When he was taken into your hospital room and saw you all bandaged and connected to a bunch of machines trying to keep you alive his heart almost stopped.

He sat beside your bed as the doctor explains him you were taken in after a tree that had collapsed due to the storm fell over you. They weren’t sure if you were going to make it. Saeyoung hugged him.

“It’s ok…she is strong…she’ll get better…I know it” he held your hand and promised to not let go of it till you wake up.

He didn’t cry till the moment he felt your hand moving under his and then saw your confused eyes opening.

“Saeran…? Where am I? What happened?”

“I’m sorry MC… I really am… I promise I’ll never talk to you like that again… please never get yourself in danger like that…sorry” he kept rambling and apologizing for a solid minute. He was just so scared; both of losing you and you hating him.

You remember your fight and in all honesty you are still a little hurt, but you also know how deeply sorry he is. You forgive him.

After that he is all over you. Till you recover you are not allowed to do anything but rest and being pampered by your doting boyfriend.

#Mysme #mystic messenger #Yoosung Kim #hyun ryu #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #jihyun kim #saeran choi #mysme yoosung #mysme zen #mysme jaehee #mysme jumin #mysme 707 #mysme v #mysme saeran #mysme ray #ray route spoilers #mysme headcanon

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