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mixvyu · 2 years ago

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Parfum d’étoile - episode twelve part two

scaramouche x reader smau

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★-

"Weren’t you suppose to be smart?"

"Fuck off Scaramouche, this shit just doesn’t make sense how am I supposed to link those three completely different subjects together?"

"I hate to side up with him, i really do, i swear, but it’s actually kind of easy frankly the hardest is to pick which info we keep and which one we ditch."

You could Scaramouche snicker beside you but you decided not to give him the time of day

"Let’s just save that and come back to it later, yeah?" You suggested, trying to shift the conversation to another topic.

“It’s getting late we should probably just call it a day" Kazuha said, looking at the time on his phone.

"Thank gods i don’t think i could spend one more minute working with her" Scaramouche added, pulling out his own phone "What do you guys want to eat?"

"Aww, you’re not throwing me out? I’m flattered, Kuni." you emphasised both of the syllables of the nickname.

You could hear Kazuha choke on his 4th cup of tea of the evening "Wow I didn’t know you guys were close like that" he said in between coughs.

"Neither did I. Don’t call me that." Scaramouche replied, almost instantly, while looking deep into your eyes. The humour in his demeanour long forgotten.

"Why does Kazuha get to call you that but I can’t? It’s unfair if you ask me." you said, trying to lighten up the mood even just a little bit.

"I’ve known him for more than a decade it’s completely different." discomfort settled in before Scaramouche continued with a more lighthearted tune "What food do you like, Y/N?" The question made you sigh in relief. Maybe he wasn’t mad, maybe it just caught him off guard.

"I like Italian food!" You exclaimed enthusiastically at the thought of a meal that you wouldn’t have to pay with the small amount of money left in your bank account.

"Ok so not that. Kazuha?" Scaramouche followed, eyes focusing on the other man beside you.

"Japanese sounds good right now" he answered immediately. He looked so focused on the ceiling on top of him the fact that he even listened to Scaramouche’s question had you shocked.

"Can’t believe you out of all people is letting me down."

"Sorry, a sacrifice had to be made." Kazuha teased, still looking at the beige ceiling

Scaramouche replies a lazy "mkay" to his friends request and gets up to call a japanese restaurant he apparently already had in his contact, probably because of the frequency of take-out the two boys regularly ordered. Judging by the fact that he hadn’t asked any of you what you wanted to order, you assumed he already had his and Kazuha’s orders memorised and that you’d just have to be okay with whatever he’d order for you.

If he even ordered for you, that is.

"What in the world possessed you to call him that?" Kazuha hushed voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

He wasn’t looking above him anymore and gave you what appeared to be an alarmed looked.

You didn’t get what he was talking about at first, but without thinking much you realised this was about you stealing the nickname he used for Scaramouche and the not-so-great reaction that followed.

"I just wanted to get his reaction, didn’t think he’d get all serious." You explained. It was simply reasoning really.

"Yeah, he really doesn’t like his birthname. At all."

"Why?"

"Uh… I think it’d be best to ask him directly." Kazuha said, looking away for the first time during the conversation

"He’d kill me if i did that!" you whispered-yelled

He looked back at you, then looked to the left. He seemed deep in reflexion, pouting a little and letting out a small "mm" sound before staring at you again "I don’t think he’d do more than manhandle you a bit, frankly, maybe a punch of two."

"Why are you acting like it’s nothing much?? I don’t want to get punched or manhandled! At all!" You grabbed your own cheeks out of instinct, as if you were protecting yourself from Scaramouche’s imminent hit.

"Then you’ll have to live in ignorance." he shrugged, grabbing one of the snacks on the table before realising that dinner will arrive any time soon and putting it back down.

"Can’t you tell me instead?" You pleaded, attempting to woo him with puppy dog eyes

"I don’t want to be the one he’ll pick a fight with." The wooing was ineffective

"I sacrificed Italian for japanese food, you can sacrifice that!" you were shaking him by now, you’re sure that, if he’d ask, you’d go as far as to plead on your knees for him to give you the answer you so deeply wanted.

"It’s not remotely close! You can have Italian later but i can’t get unbeaten up!" He said, still whispering

"You’re just a coward."

"What are you guys whispering about?" Scaramouche came back, having seemingly finished his phone call.

You were sweating a bit and your eyes were wide open, you looked like you’ve be caught red handed.

A long "uhh" left your mouth, you looked back at Kazuha hoping he’d be the one to find a non-suspicious reply to give to the man standing in front of you both.

"You."

You wanted to slap him so badly.

"What about me?" Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious of the topic you guys were discussing, and you couldn’t blame him : if someone told you they’ve been murmuring about you behind your back (literally), you’d be curious too.

"Y/N wanted to know why you changed your name."

You kicked Kazuha’s legs and he let out a soft, almost inaudible, "ow"

Scaramouche squinted, analysing your face. You gulped nervously, praying that there was an option other than the punching or manhandling.

"Not telling." He simply said, making a "umph" sound as he crossed his arms.

You simply looked at Kazuha, who was already looking at you, amused.

"Sorry, i might have exaggerated." he stated, a huge grin creeping on his face

Before you could curse him out he got off of the sofa for the first time in hours. Right as he got up, the purple head let himself fall down on your other side, apparently tired from standing for 5 minutes.

"I’ll go get the cans of beer i bought" the white and red haired man said, stretching before making his way to the kitchen

"You bought beer?" Scaramouche asked enthusiastically

"What? You didn’t even unload the groceries?" You could both hear him from the small kitchen, the sound of rustling through the groceries he bought some hours ago making itself audible

"No, I was lazy so I just put the bag up on the counter and left."

Kazuha sighed and mumbled "There was ice cream in there…"

He came back a few seconds afterwards, a pack of six cans in hands.

"Ooh nice." Frankly, you didn’t really like the taste of beer but maybe drinking with the two guys would make you all closer and you were excited at the thought.

Scaramouche leaned in and whispered into your ear "Don’t get too excited, he’ll drink all of this before you even get the chance to lay your hand on one of the can. He has a serious substance abuse problem."

"Maybe you should call a doctor or do an intervention or something." you whispered back

"He’ll be fine. Probably."

— timeskip :3

Not even 2 hours later, Kazuha was already asleep. His lower back resting on your laps and his head on Scaramouche’s who used that as an opportunity to play with his friend’s hair, undoing his signature ponytail and trying out a variety of haircut on his longer hair.

A comfortable silent had installed itself, only the soft sound of the raindrops crashing against the window was audible.

Your phone was next to you but the idea of being on it during the moment felt impolite. You glanced at Scaramouche, for the nth time since Kazuha fell asleep, a small smile was plastered on his face.

Being abled to run his fingers through Kazuha's seemingly soft hair apparently made him euphoric.

The sight of the two boys made you chuckle, a chuckle that Scaramouche caught up on.

"What's so funny ?"

"You look so happy, it's unsettling."

"I never get to touch his hair, it's super soft."

The conversation ended here but, for some reason, you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"I didn't know they made them cropped."

"Huh?" Scaramouche finally looked up to you.

"The compression shirts. I didn't know that there was cropped ones."

"Ooh!" He looked down at his shirt as if he'd forgetten which one he put on "I don't know if they exist cropped. I cut this one myself to show off the piercings." he let out a chuckle, a low one, before staring back down at Kazuha's sleeping face.

You looked up at the clock.

10:29pm

The gates of the school closed at 11:30 which meant you still had an hour to learn more about the boy next to you.

Scaramouche had always intrigued you but now that you were closer to him you really wanted to get the answers for all the questions in your mind.

You looked at his face deeply, analyzing the features of his face.

Scaramouche really was a pretty boy. Big purple eyes complimented by the red eyeliner he wore everyday, porcelain skin, long fingers and a small frame. He looked so ethreal, almost like a doll.

Scaramouche picked up on the looks you gave him, he could feel you staring without even looking at you.

"If you have something to say just say it."

‘You look really pretty’ was what you wanted to say to him— because he did look really pretty.

But you uttered something completely different in the end,

"Why’d you change your name?"

He groaned before looking up at you for the second time in an hour.

"I didn’t like it. I already told you."

"Yeah but why?"

"Why do you even care anyway?"

"I don’t know, you’re an interesting guy, i just want to get to know you more." You shrugged as he raised his eyebrows, not really convinced by what you were saying.

Since he wasn’t replying you added "You don’t have to tell me! It’s just— I’m just curious is all."

He chuckles lightly and says in a serious tone "I know I don’t have to, I don’t owe you anything."

Silence installed itself again.

God why did you have to be so pushy about it ? He obviously didn’t want to tell you, it’s some personal issue that he only share with his best friend, you’re not remotely close enough to be given the same amount of trust than his best friend of a decade. He was warming up to you and you ruined everything : Why do you always ruin everything?

You fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find something to make it up to him. Maybe you should just apologise again or—

"It’s just that…" all of the thoughts in your head suddenly went quiet as he started to speak "…I don’t like the history behind that name. It being related to my mom and all, you know?"

You actually did not know.

You never heard about Scaramouche’s mom before so hearing him mention her was surprising.

"Ooh so it’s like a mommy kink typa thing!"

"I’m pretty sure you meant mommy issues but whatever." he sighs before mumbling "I don't even know why I'm telling you that."

"I won't call you that again if it makes you uncomfortable"

"No, it's fine, you don't have to stop."

"Scaramouche?"

"God, what now?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

The man in front of you paused before straightening his back and laughing softly

"What's with all the questions?"

"Dunno, just curious I guess. Don't you think it's fun? It's like 21 questions."

"21 questions? How old are you?"

"You're the one that wanted to play last time"

"Really? I don't remember that."

"I know you do stop lying."

"Why do you even care ?"

"Just say you're a loser virgin, no need to circle around it."

"it's the pot calling the kettle black." he mumbled

"What did you say ?"

"Nothing. No I'm not dating anyone."

"Not even Kazuha ?"

"He's just with me for money, i don't surround myself with that kind of people." He answered while braiding the man's hair ironically.

"Oh so you did know!"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing! I don't mean anything!"

"What about you?"

"Me? I didn't even know you wee rich before Kazuha said it"

"No dumbass! I was asking if you were dating anyone."

A huge grin crept on your face "Why? You wanna take me on a date? I'm flattered really but I'm not interested, sorry."

"I wouldn't go on a date with you even if my life depended on it."

"No I'm not dating anyone. I'm not the kind of person people want to kiss apparently." You laughed quietly

'God why did i say that' you wanted to slap yourself—the last comment was really unnecessary.

"You think so ?" Scaramouche asked but you didn't answer. He continued anyway " I'd kiss you."

"What?"

"Huh? I said I'd kiss you." He repeated, nonchalantly.

You were sure that he just said that to tease you and that he'd reply a sing-songy "Nothing" when you questionned him, but he looked as serious as ever.

"Ah- uh really ? You think ?"

"Sure, probably."

You looked at the clock again and Scaramouche's gaze followed yours.

10:58pm

"Is it time for you to go home ?"

You nodded yes subconsciously even though it was a lie, you still had 30 more minutes before the gate would close.

"I'll help you clean up before I leave" You said looking over at the table decorated by dozens of sheets, multiple empty cups of tea, various snacks, an opened small packages of edibles that magically appeared into Kazuha's hands during the evening, empty Dr. Pepper and beer cans and three dirty plates stacked on top of each other.

"It's fine, it's not a huge mess I can take care of that myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah it should take me 5 mins at best. Let's go, I'll walk you home."

"Oh you don't have to!"

"It's 11pm and your house is close anyway, it's fine."

"I wouldn't want to bother you."

"God you're so fucking annoying, let's just go!"

"Ok! Ok! Geez..."

— timeskip :3

The walk back home was bathed in silence. You wanted to speak up but you knew how much the man beside you hated small talk.

You don't know when exactly you became cautious of what he might think of you knowing that you would've done everything to see him in pain just a week prior.

Maybe it was because he was rapidly warming up to you for some reason, probably because of the proximity forced onto the both of you; you talked to him more these past 3 days than you ever did in the 2 years of being his classmate and self-proclaimed rival.

You didn't know why but you liked the feeling of being closer to Scaramouche, despite all the rumours he was easy to talk to and you could now imagine how a man like Kazuha would find himself drawn to him.

If Lumine could hear you she'd be dissapointed.

Even though he was kind of nice, you still hated parts of him especially those cocky smiles he'd give you that signified that he thought he was better than you in every way, shape or form, or the fact that he always seemed to surpass you in grades but still didn't put up any work while on the project a few hours earlier.

God he was so fucking annoying.

You couldn't refrain yourself from slapping him in the back of the head harshly.

"Ow!" he exclaimed loudly, more surprised than actual hurt "What the fuck was that for?!"

"You're so fucking annoying, Kuni." it was your second time using the nickname and you hoped that he wouldn’t react badly this time.

"I didn't do anything! I-! You-! I wasn't even talking!"

"Your aura threw me off."

"Yeah well I'm sorry my aura isn't good enough for you!"

"I appreciate the apology. You should go home now."

"What so you're just going hit me and throw me away? That's hurtful."

"I live right around the corner and it's..." you checked your phone "...11:13 so you should probably head back. Plus you're tired so you should just sleep."

"Tired? I'm not tired, what are you talking about?"

"Huh? Didn't you say you started talking nonsense when you were tired ?"

"When did I speak nonsense?" it was a real question this time, just by his face you could understand that he was currently replaying the entire day in his head and asking himself when he fucked up

"I mean you literally said you'd kiss me" You looked confused but not as confused as Scaramouche was

"Yeah and I meant that."

"Just- Just go home, Scaramouche."

"Ok, whatever. Goodnight, Y/N"

"Mhm" You managed to mumble before he walked away

God why were you like this??

Extras :

Why do I write Kazuha and Scara so homo w each other

Sorry for the late update (i have absolutely no excuse)

In the draft i worked on at first Y/N and Scara almost kissed before Kazuha called and interrupted them but i decided against it jst because

You ever just write something , think "it's cringe" to yourself but still post it or is it just a me thing

Scara defo fell to his knees and screamed into his hand after turning a corner

Taglist! [open]

@gekkow @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangel @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @mitsu-moshi

#scaramouche #genshin #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fanfic #genshin x reader #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin smau #wanderer smau #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi smau #★彡 parfum d’étoile

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plinko-mori · 2 months ago

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My favourite work from Rintarou Mori was Vita Sexualis. Now (since a long time ago lol) it is Moso <3 in Spanish it is translated as «Ilusiones» that literally means «Illusions» and in some contexts it can mean «Fantasies» I don't know how the work is called officially in English though I'm so sorry

So for everyone to have context about why Mori wrote it, there was this opinion that Rintarou hated and it said something like: ”Japan is a backward, poor and dirty county, plagued by diseases and dominated by barbaric customs, which indiscriminately imported Western customs and techniqued that weakened it, and whose esteemed culture was devastated by the Japanese themselves“. And Rintarou Mori, an author known for not knowing when to shut up, not because he spoke too much, but because when he sees something that he doesn't like, he speaks so freely about it and Natsume knows about it lol

In this short work from 1911, Mori explains his reasons of why that statement is absolutely incorrect, and there's a quote that I love a lot"

“From the time I was born until today, what have I done. I study relentlessly as if someone is whipping me, whipping me constantly. I think I do it to develop myself, to be able to fulfil a task. Maybe a part of this goal can be fulfilled. But it seems to me that what I do is nothing more than playing, like an actor, a role on stage. I feel that beyond the role I play, there must be something more. I feel that I am constantly being whipped and stimulated, so that I have no time to let go. The child who studies, the young man who studies, the civil servant who studies, they all play a role. One day I'll wash my face painted in red and black and get off the stage. I wish to think of myself calmly and see how it is something behind. With these thoughts I continue to play role after role, while the stage manager whips my back. I am sure that this performance is not life. I sense that the something that is behind me is nodding off again and falling asleep. Lately I feel nostalgic for my people; I am like the grasses that float and move with the waves in the distance and continue their undulating movement, and sometimes with the shaking they tremble to the roots, and this does not correspond to the role I play on stage. But this feeling, as soon as I raise my head, is erased”

Mori you wanted to defend your idea why were you doing a conclusion of you being a slave of your own thoughts, reputation and the standards with what people (specially your parents) expected from you also WHY IS THAT SO RELATABLE

The author is so human, traumatized and very much autistic, but it's so realistic and relatable... I don't know if I have analyzed the quote here before, if I have done it I'm so sorry 😭

Anyway Mori and samurais were topics extremely connected. His mother was a descendant of samurais, black is a colour associated with them and to weddings, being seen as a masculine colour in Japan. On the other hand, red in Japan is associated with peace, prosperity of family and even justice only in Kabuki Theater performances!

Kabuki is a genre of traditional Japanese theater, dating all the way back to the Edo Period (1603-1867)

The quote I shared is like less than 4 pages to the end of the work. It helps for reflexion and is one of the few times that the author opens his heart to the reader, where he shares things, but he's doing his maximum effor to show that Japanese and his people aren't weak... Although, it's almost obvious (at least for me) that deep in the inside he's not as strong as he claims to be, he can also be vulnerable, but he can't go back anymore because he already started walking that way to being an author, a doctor, a strong person that not only people hated but even felt afraid of Mori!

Unlike Vita Sexualis, Ilusiones is not a semi-autobiography, it's not a novel or a long book... But it's so deep, so emotional in some parts that at least I felt connected to the author when I read it. Mori's purpose is for you to think like him, to see his point, and he knows how to make sense to people that it can be shocking reading his works

Do you see any of this in BSD? I do. But what about you all?

#bsd mori #bsd ougai mori #bsd ogai mori #bsd mori ogai #bsd mori ougai #rintarou mori #bsd mori analysis #plinko mori #bsd analysis

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dilanmoodboards · 11 days ago

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Valentine's day Surprise (Hartbreak)

Paring: Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels

NSFW; +18; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Shawn has a Valentine's day surprise for his boyfriend. Or I really wanted to write Bret/Shawn smut with Shawn wearing a playboy bunny outfit.

Tags: PWP; Slight Feminization; Anal Sex; Anal Fingering; Creampie; Daddy Kink; Fluff; Established Relationship; Valentine's day.

Notes: This idea just wouldn't leave me alone since october. English is not my first language and I'm dyslexic af, so feel free to correct anything. Comments are always welcome.

Word Count: 1,732

Shawn was pacing up and down the room waiting for Bret. He had been wanting to make a surprise for his boyfriend for Valentine’s day, especially because they couldn’t really go out together to celebrate it like a normal couple. But now that Shawn was ready and that Hunter and Joanie had left, he was feeling a little self conscious. What if Bret hated the surprise? It had been a throwaway comment that Bret made while Shaw was doing his playgirl photoshoot that sparked the idea.

Bret had jokingly asked if Shawn wasn’t going to wear one of those bunny outfits and Shawn instantly flushed, but before he could say anything he was whisked away to continue the shoot. Bret probably had forgotten about it, but not Shawn. He had also made the mistake of telling Hunter about the comment, which led to him, Kev, Scott and Kid surprising him with the playboy bunny outfit for christmas.

Was it too late to change outfits now? Shawn stared at his reflexion in the mirror: his hair was down and he had fluffed it just right, just the way Bret liked, on top of his head were pink bunny ears, the costume was also pink and it fit him well enough considering he didn’t have boobs, he could admit his ass was looking great. He decided to forgo the stockings, but he was wearing the cuffs and the tie. He looked hot, but maybe Bret wouldn’t like it.

Before Shawn could make a decision he heard a knock on the door. Shawn took a deep breath, it was too late to step down now, and made his way to the door. He looked through the peephole to make sure there was no one around before opening the door carefully so he was hidden behind it.

Bret was carrying a heart shaped box of chocolates and a bottle of wine that he was planning on sharing with Shawn. He was wearing a blue button up shirt and jeans, as well as his leather jacket, not really date night clothes, but he and Shawn were together for two years now and if he knew his boyfriend well enough they weren’t going to stay clothed for long. Bret had never understood why, but Shawn loved hanging out naked, even if it didn’t lead to sex, according to the blonde there was something deeply intimate about being comfortable to be naked around each other.

As he entered the room he was thinking about what was the big surprise Shawn had for him. The blonde had been extremely nervous when telling him that he should be expecting a surprise for Valentine’s day. Bret could practically feel Shawn buzzing out of his skin as he told him that at the arena. He heard the door close behind him and then turned to finally look at his boyfriend.

Bret felt light headed, all his blood rushing to his face and his dick. Shawn was looking at the floor, biting his lip. “Fuck, you really know how to make a surprise.” Shawn shyly looked at him. “You like it?” Bret made his way to the blonde and gave him a light peck on the lips. “I fucking love it.” Shawn smiled, his cheeks a little red, and Bret felt the urge to kiss him again, but before he could do it Shawn was moving, having taken the wine and chocolate out of Bret’s hands.

“Sit, I’m serving us a glass.” Bret watched as Shawn walked to the counter in the room, shamelessly watching the way his boyfriend’s ass looked in the bunny costume. “Can’t we skip this part?” Shawn laughed, a full hearty laugh that had Bret smiling. “Go sit down Hitman. I want some wine before we start.” Bret sat down at the armchair, keeping his gaze trained on Shawn.

Once Shawn turned, with one glass full of wine, he saw Bret staring intently at him. “See something you like?” He asked as he made his way towards his sitting boyfriend. “You look really good in pink.” Shawn sat down on Bret’s lap, taking a sip of the wine before offering the glass to him. Bret took the glass from the blonde’s hand, but kept one of his own hands on Shawn’s ass. “Not as good as you.” Once Bret finished taking a sip of wine Shawn was kissing him, hard.

It was a miracle that Bret managed to get the glass on the table before they spilled it or broke it. Once he had both hands freed he started to kneed at Shawn’s butt and thighs. Bret had always been a lower body guy, and Shawn had possibly the best set of cheeks and thighs Bret had ever had the pleasure of touching.

Shawn let out a whine when Bret gave him a light slap right on his heart tattoo and the hitman laughed. “You’re severely overdressed you know.” Shawn said in between kisses to Bret’s lips and chin. He was frantically trying to get the button’s of Bret’s shirt open, but couldn’t properly grasp them with the way Bret was touching him.

Bret loved how sensitive Shawn was and how easy it was to render the blonde into a whining and moaning mess. Shawn’s shaky fingers were struggling with his shirt at the same time as they were trying to get his jacket off and trying to grip into his hair to pull Bret closer. Shawn seemed to be unable to decide what he wanted and that caused Bret to grin as he kissed the blonde until they were both breathless before starting to attack his throat with kisses and licks.

“Please Bret… I need...” Shawn was saying in between moans, unable to finish his sentences. “What do you need baby?” Bret asked, fully aware that it would only get Shawn more frustrated. “You… I need you.” Shawn’s words were now a whine, sometimes it baffled Bret how high Shawn’s voice could go when he was desperate. “Hold tight baby.” Bret said as he stood up with Shawn in his arms and made his way to the bed.

Shawn flopped on the bed as Bret started to strip from his jacket and shirt. Bret couldn’t get his eyes off of Shawn, his blonde hair was like a halo around his head, his tanned body was practically glowing in the hotel light and the hot pink outfit contrasted beautifully with his body.

Once he got rid of his shirt Bret took a hold of his boyfriend's legs and started to trail kisses up and down his thighs. Shawn took a hold of his hair trying to guide him towards his aching erection that was trapped behind the soft pink material, but Bret ignored him. “Please Bret… stop teasing.” Shawn was starting to tear up from frustration. Bret slowly made his way up Shawn’s body before taking the younger man’s lips in a hungry kiss. “Not so fun when you’re at the receiving end of it. Is it?” Shawn just moaned in response.

“On your stomach I’ve got to prep you.” Shawn turned as fast as he could, the switch in position caused the outfit to expose even more of his ass. Bret kneeled in between Shawn’s legs and moved the costume to the side and inserted one finger in his boyfriend. Shawn was already a little loose from prepping during the shower and soon enough Bret was able to add a second and third finger inside him. “You little fiend, you prepped for me already.” Bret leaned over Shawn’s body to whisper in his ear, Shawn could only nood.

Bret then took away his fingers and turned Shawn onto his back. “I want to watch you as you fall apart baby.” Bret’s cock was already free and Shawn couldn’t help but stare at it. “See something you like?” Bret took Shawn’s legs and placed them on his shoulders, but did not enter Shawn just yet.

“Why don’t you beg for it?” Shawn whimpered, but did as asked pleas and moans leaving his lips, but Bret seemed content in just rubbing the head of his cock against Shawn’s entrance without going any further.

If Bret wanted to be unfair then Shawn was going to play dirty. Shawn gave his boyfriend his best fuck me eyes and bit his lip before moaning. “Please daddy, I need you.” That was all it took. Bret’s eyes went dark with lust and he entered Shawn in one go. Bret’s pace was slow and hard, hitting all the right places. “Say it again.” Bret was leaning over him, groaning into his ear as he continued plunging into Shawn. “Please daddy.” Shawn repeated the words like a mantra, Bret’s thrust becoming harder each time.

“Fuck… that’s it” Bret was looking at Shawn, his hair strewn across the bed and the pretty pink outfit he was wearing, the bunny ears had long since fallen from the blondes head. The movement made Shawn’s cock slip free from the costume and his precum was smearing against the pink silk and darkening it. “You look so pretty.” Shawn keened at the praise. Bret wasn’t going to last much longer with the sinful image he was looking at.

He took a hold of Shawn’s cock stroking him in time with his thrusts. “Come for me baby… my pretty little thing.” Shawn came with a shout of Bret’s name, his vision going blank as his body tensed up and then went slack. Bret watched intently as spurts of white shot from Shawn’s cock and ruined his costume. He held Shawn's legs and started to thrust faster chasing his own impending orgasm. He came with Shawn’s nails digging into his back as overstimulation took over the younger man’s body.

When he finally came down from his own orgasm he slowly pulled out of Shawn, laying at his boyfriend’s side, both of them trying to recover their energies. “So I take it you liked your surprise?” Shawn sounded smug and Bret just laughed. “Yeah you can say that.” Bret turned onto his side and kissed Shawn's cheek. “How about I run us a bath?” Shawn sighed. “That does sound great.” Bret got up out of the bed as Shawn leisurely watched him. “Love you Bret! Happy Valentine’s” Bret smiled as he made his way to the bathroom. “Love you too Shawn. And Happy Valentine’s day.”

#wwe #wwf #shawn michaels #hbk #bret the hitman hart #bret hart #shawn x bret #bret hart x shawn michaels #hartbreak #bretshawn #fanfiction

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legacygirlingreen · 8 months ago

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Mornings on Pabu

For week 4 of @summer-of-bad-batch's alt prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen"

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader

Summary: An early morning on your lovely island home leads to some reflexion on how hard your lover has been working... and possibly explaining why that is...

*** no use of Y/N ***

Warnings: mildly suggestive, mentions of having children, no actual baby making activity I promise! mostly fluff! Domestic but non sexual nudity!

Word count: 2k

MASTERLIST

Rustling curtains and the muted sound of crashing waves were the perfect lull from sleep as you rolled over. Hair tumbling across the pillow as you did so, you blinked the caress of sleep away as your eyes focused while you moved. That’s not to say you weren’t careful of the dead weight from the arm perched over your waist. He rarely slept. Forcing him into the bed and to lay down - without that blasted datapad - was still a challenge after a year of island life.

You were finally free. Free of the Empire. Free of Dr. Hemlock. Free of the danger. Free to be at peace. Free to help give Omega the childhood she deserved. Free to heal those wounds both mental and physical. Free to love as you all saw fit. Free to have the lives you truly had always wanted.

Pabu was every bit the sanctuary Phee had promised. While you initially had been wary of the pirate - especially the way she continually flirted with Tech despite your unofficial yet apparent feelings for the man - you’d come to respect her in time. After a few drinks late one night, she admitted to flirting simply to push the two of you together. To her credit, her work along with the unscheduled descent that nearly claimed his life, it worked.

Tech was every bit of man you had longed for. Noble. Intelligent. Thoughtful. Sexy.

Even while sleeping, low rumbled snores escaping past his lips, he looked alluring. Those thick eyelashes that framed his deep brown eyes, visible due to removal of his staple goggles, which rested on his nightstand during the night. Skin having grown into a deep bronze with the sunlight, giving way with every deep inhale and exhale. His hair was an absolute mess, and finally grown to a length you wouldn’t have anticipated. No longer on the run, and needing to be practical, he’d let it go and given up on gel: meaning the carmel strands were curling around his neck and ears now instead of being cropped short and pushed back. Something about seeing him like this made you truly feel every ounce of raw arousal for him almost every moment in the day. The added freedom to slip away whenever you liked only increased the desperate need you both shared for one another.

The dark ink he’d always had marked in his skin, now accompanying two new additions. An oval design replicating Omega’s old headband along his bicep next to symbols he bore for all his siblings: Crosshair’s reticle design, a red band that stretched the entire circumference of his arm for Hunter’s bandana, a childish outline of lula for Wrecker, and Echo’s old handprint armor. He kept his siblings close to him, having marks for them just under his shoulder where their old squad logo lay. However the most recent addition to his body lay directly over his heart: your name in aurebesh.

Tech hadn’t warned you of the change, simply appearing one day with it over his pectoral and the explanation of, “I wanted to keep you close to heart”. Which promptly led to your heart beating as if it was going to bust. Well, that and some mind blowing time between the sheets to show just how much the gesture had meant to you. He still shrugged it off, as if the act were common sense. You beg to differ but were never going to argue with him over something so kind.

Laying next to him every morning had come to feel like a dream. Days on Pabu were met with Tech’s talent for mechanics being put to good use, while you took on random tasks assisting him. That didn’t stop the frequent routine of sharing meals with Shep and his daughter, Tech’s siblings and occasionally Phee. After which, you both would make it back to your own private domicile - something Tech requested after some time given he didn’t enjoy being quiet when it came to giving you pleasure - before hopping into bed together.

Initially the transition had been difficult on Omega. The girl not used to Tech being under a different roof and still anxious from his time captured on Tantis away from her watchful eye, but once she discovered that Tech’s absence meant she had her own escape from the other boys she finally came around.

Each morning had come to be filled with sweet whispers rousing you from sleep, as Tech often rose before you. Not long after you had arrived, you both began taking the mornings to swim, before the island awoke. The gentle breeze, the calm lapping waves, and the way Tech’s brown eyes looked at dusk: perfection.

However, with the amount he’d been working lately, you felt guilty about waking him up for something as trivial as a swim. He’d taken it on himself to fix all of lower Pabu, fortifying it against future storm surges so the island could function. This was great - if he wasn’t doing so single handedly, pushing off your attempts at helping him.

Carefully you tried to maneuver your way out from under his arm, hoping that you could be gone and back before he woke up, but when you had just gotten your foot out from under the covers, said arm tightened, trapping you under a sudden burst of strength. Immediately being alert and aware were side effects of his programming, meaning the first stroke of being awoken meant he was at full capacity to react almost suddenly.

Sighing you gave up, knowing you had failed to slip away without him realizing and just allowed the man to pull you back into his chest as he tangled your legs together. A gruff tone to his voice as he whispered, “You really think you’re going without me?” into the skin of your neck. The way he almost purred the words as he wrapped himself around your body made you melt as he continued, kissing your neck as he mumbled, “not going to happen…” along that spot that always made you squirm.

“I just wanted you to rest-” you began and his sweet kisses turned to a playful nip as he shook his head, turning you around before you could react and pulling you on top of his body. In doing so the covers tumbled to the floor, leaving his beautiful bare body full on display as his hands sought out your rear, giving it a squeeze as your face fell into the crook of his neck. He smelled musky, as if he’d sweat a bit in the night, but you didn’t mind as.

“I got more than enough rest to be sufficient for my body to complete its tasks for the day,” he commented, eyes blinking open as he adjusted to the first crack of light coming through the open window.

“Sufficient doesn’t mean you couldn’t do with a bit more sleep,” you grumble as that light puff of air that indicated a sudo laugh came from his nose and his arms tightened around your lower back.

“Not at the expense of missing out on our early morning routine,” he commented, mentally preparing to get going on the day. Where he discovered such energy in the morning you’d never know.

“Just one day wouldn’t be the end of the world,”

“I have a different opinion on the matter,” he challenged, reaching over to retrieve the goggles on the nightstand as you reached an arm up to stop him. He used them to hide from the world, but you refused to let him do so with you.

“You’ve been working so incredibly hard lately Tech, no one is going to get angry if you take a bit of a break,” you challenge as you remove your arm, seeing he gave up on reaching his frames.

“I am aware that there shall not be hostilities if I pause the rate at which I have been repairing the lower half of the city. But as I said, I have reasons for a differing perspective on the issue,” he states bluntly.

You loved Tech for many reasons. His brilliance. His ability to remain calm no matter the circumstances. Usually you enjoyed his bluntness, since it meant he was straight forward and there was no guessing. Having him dance around the issue was very out of the norm.

“Is something wrong?” you sighed through the question, leaning up on his chest as he looked around the room for a moment, letting his eyes settle back on you.

“No, I do not mean to cause worry or distress,”

“Then why can’t you tell me what it is that is causing you to work yourself to an early grave?” you question softly, hand cupping the side of his face as his eyes fluttered closed. Stubble caught along your thumb and you knew he’d shave it when he got out of bed, as he did every morning without fail. He loved his routines after all.

“I just want to make sure that this is a safe place for children,” he says quietly, eyes still closed.

“You know that ever since the wave, Shep moved the families with kids up above the wall, and allowed more of the older residents to migrate south. Omega is old enough she can handle herself anywhere on the island-”

“I am not talking about Omega,” Tech replies as he finally looks up, hopeful gaze in his eyes.

Suddenly it all made sense. The overprotective nature he’d had lately. His hard work repairing the lower section of the island. His hyperawareness at your health as of late. His acceptance of life here and mentioning how it was one of safety. Him pointing out neighbors with children and how fascinating they behaved.

“Tech, do you-” you began to ask and his eyes grew wide, almost as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be.

“I would never encourage something given we have not discussed it before, nor would I take actions you were not okay with. I hardly know your opinions on the matter…” he trailed off in a rare occurrence, hands dragging over his face as if to hide.

“But?” you press carefully, tone not indicating malice or frustration, simply a need to understand where he was coming from.

“But yes, I have found myself interested in the idea of possibly having children. Naturally that is. With you.” he said it all so simply despite the very apparent war he seemed to be having with himself for saying it out loud.

“Oh,” you whisper. To be frank, the idea hadn’t really crossed your mind. Not that you were against it, per say, just hadn’t really imagined it.

“We do not need to discuss it, and I shall continue fixing the walls regardless as it is a benefit to all who live here on Pabu-”

“Tech,” you cut him off with a small smile.

“Yes?”

“Can we continue this conversation out of bed? I would like to hear all your ideas on the matter but I’d like to be in a neutral location if we are going to discuss them. Besides, I’ll never get over how wonderful you look in that early morning light in the water,” you tell him softly.

Tech looks up hopefully into your eyes, seeing the way they soften for him. Something tells him that he has nothing to fear, as a practical discussion of such matters is important for anyone attempting to bring life into the world with the one they love. Especially for someone as logically minded as him. You can’t help but laugh at the way he nearly hurls you onto the floor as he begins rushing about the room, pulling on something to swim in while encouraging you to hurl it along.

It’s in that room where you decide perhaps he’s onto something, and that maybe the two of you are ready for those next steps. But for now, the sun and sand are calling your name. Well, that and your love, who can’t wait to talk about the future with you as the sun peaks over the horizon.

NOW CLICK TO READ PART TWO (NSFW)!!!

#tech bad batch #the bad batch #tbb fandom #sw tbb #tbb #tbb tech #tech lives #summer of bad batch #short prompt #tooth rotting fluff

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badtitude · 1 month ago

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≡ SWEET WORDS !! KIM MINJAE

(in which your boyfriend reassures you about his true feelings ๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) : 545 words : gn!reader + fluff + established relationship : to whoever requested xikers idk what happened but i lost your request so it might not be accurate but i hope you can still enjoy!! thanks for requesting <3

The day was nearly over but you felt more alive than ever by his side, you were used to the feeling that his presence brought, but it always caught you off guard. The silent reminder that he was with you because his heart beat as loud as yours whenever your eyes would meet.

"You're quiet today." His remark made you smile as you turned to him, he narrowed his eyes at you urging you to tell him whatever was on your mind.

You only ever had these walks in the dead of the night when you had something on your mind so you couldn't hide it from him. From the moment you called him to meet you, he must have known, but he let you enjoy the late night silence.

The more you tried to act like you were fine, the more his worries grew, you could feel it in the way his hand slid in yours, his fingers filling up the gaps between yours. His gentle thumb caresses as you walked side by side.

"I just missed you," you could feel his eyes on you as you started, your eyes stayed fixed on the ground in front of you as you continued, "it's been hard to match up our schedules."

Your walks would always end in the same spot, far enough from the bustling city centre, a quiet family neighbourhood where you found a playground, always empty at the time you arrived. The swings would sway with the soft breeze, inviting you to take a seat.

Once again you found yourselves at that same spot, sitting on those worn-out swing seats facing opposite directions so you could be face to face. As usual the words that had been stuck in your throat would flow out.

"I keep scaring myself, getting worried you lost interest." You laughed quietly at the absurdity of your words, despite that you couldn't help your thoughts from roaming whenever you'd happen to get a glimpse of him. Whether it was one of his members or a mere staff member, your heart would ache as the jealousy would settle in.

"If you're missing me then just know I'm doing exactly the same, you're the only constant thought on my mind." Your eyes widen at the feeling of his hand on your cheek, bringing your gaze to meet his. In his eyes you could tell he meant every word, the slight furrow in his brows, the reflexion of the moonlight glistening in them, somehow brought you a sense of reassurance.

"You know what that means right?" His eyes scanned each feature on your face before finding your eyes again, your lips parted open slightly for a second before closing shut as you searched his eyes for an answer to the obvious question.

The corners of his lips curved up as his fingers slid further up your neck combing through your hair, his gaze swiftly shifted to your lips, and with a slight pull you found your lips on his. The kiss felt gentle, soft, you found yourself lost in the feeling, soaking in the message he was trying to convey. His forehead rested against yours, as he pulled away slowly, the proximity still so strong.

"It means I love you y/n, okay?"

#kpop fluff #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #.filetitude #xikers fluff #xikers x reader #xikers minjae #minjae x reader #minjae xikers

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booksandteaandstuff · 25 days ago

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"A few drops of rain fall soundlessly on the ancient water which, in its divine infancy, remains always the colour of the weather and continually forgets the reflexions of clouds and flowers."

Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way, In Search of Lost Time

https://bookshop.org/a/12010/9780812969641

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purpledinobomb · 4 months ago

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I really don't know what to think.

Before anything I've think a lot about what is following due to some author notes on ao3 saying goodbye to the Harry Potter fandom. (And their works were so great by the way not the subject here)

I'm in the Harry Potter fandom like so much other people

But I don't really share about it, because JK

As a person in the lgbtq+ community, I can't accept the pure hatred towards trans people. I can't accept the words of a woman who only talks to hate, and disguises it as feminism.

I know it's not a news and that I'm kind of late but I was quite young when it pop out, so yeah

I don't like the idea of spending time, energy, reflexion, love to the work of a terf,

I don't like the fact that I'm still so weak for Harry Potter like this universe hold so much memories and nourish a big part of my imagination.

So I wish I could claim that I won't give more time to her work.

But you know fanfictions

They are so special to me, they are so special as themselves. I could rant for a long time about how amazing they can be (but still not really the subject.)

And they permish a lot.

What I'm reading in the Harry Potter fandom can change time to time but most of it is full of headcanons, queerness, canon fix it, diversity. Because it's comforting, to read about characters that I love, where I feel seen and understood.

I've seen people saying that even turning Harry Potter as our own by writing fanfics or drawing fanarts it's still not that good because it's still promoting the original work. And to consume the fanfics you have to first consume the original

Yes, sure and I agree. However I think "trashing" Jk's precious little work is good, even if anyways she's a billionaire who probably doesn't give a fuck about what little me is reading/writing

I need this satisfaction to put queerness, and to change the story as my own (our because some headcanons are so seen that they sometimes become true to me), I need to see new works that are able to surprise me with always new ways to grow this actively queer community in fanfics.

Because I'm delusional and I refuse to let go the dream of Hogwarts, the dream of the escape.

I don't have answers, I don't want to judge anyone because everyone deal with that the way they want.

So I'm just saying, I love the freedom of fanfictions

I will continue, for now, to read political Harry Potter fanfictions, to read cute fix it, to read not so cute tragic slow burn, to read platonic beautiful fanfics, to read parental Snape, to read still an asshole Snape, to read works who feel like home because this is why I read fanfictions.

Maybe one day I'll say goodbye, maybe I'll never be able to do it, maybe one day jk will shut it up for two minutes, maybe one I'll have the right to exist peacefully

All I want to do for now is to jump fandom to fandom and to continue to spread what feels like home to me hoping it feels like home to others

(I did not edit that, I'm not a native english speaker so-, rant sorry not so sorry)

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #fuck jkr #anti jkr #protect trans kids #fanfictions #ao3 #harry potter ao3 #writers on tumblr

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voidcxltist · 1 month ago

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Thinking Thoughts: My AU

Okay, so, we all know that serie of "What if" in my blog, now renamed to Thinking Thoughts because of the sillies, it's something that grows popular every time I post about it (Putting it on contrast with latest post, Narilamb's angst & Narinder trans had been one of the most popular posts)

So, what if Abel actually gave back the crown, and Narinder did spare him from being sacrified?

Thoughts influenciated by TOWW on bold italic red, he's somewhat like Venom, overtaking Narinder from time to time, more lore of Narinder to come to explain this!

Thoughts in general of Narinder in bold italics,

Thoughts read by Mori on italics,

All will be followed by a slash to spoken dialogue

This is seen as probably some months after Narinder taking his place!

The dear bittersweet smell of camelias fill the air as Abel leaves a new offering to the actual god of the cult, Narinder, and retires to his hut after a successful exchange of roles. He would become his husband later in, but now, in the actuality, he was a mere follower.

Taking the robes of one, silently pleased to wear his old cult leader's outfit for some minutes, tossed his dearest fleece to the floor, he changes into it, finally staring at the mirror with a hurt look in his eyes. Again, he had to shake his feelings down and get into himself again. He was a follower, not the cult leader.

When he steps out of the hut after doing a small reflexion (thing that, ever since he was leader, everyone of the followers had to do), he crosses paths with the new leader. Used to obey his own orders, passes in front of him, despite Narinder talking at the lamb with an urgent tone.

After the sermon, the followers started leaving, and Narinder, who came down of the platform, reaches for Abel, who was looking deeply dissapointed of himself. He should've fought back, to yell... but his kindness and moral for redemption lead to him trusting on Narinder's word.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he sees a black cat, with deep red eyes and black pupils looking at him, wearing white robes with a red middle intersection, trailing up to his face again, not only the two on his face but also the one on his forehead were looking at him. He was waiting for something, surely an answer.

" Master... " - Abel mutters, looking at him

" Abel. " - Narinder says in the same tone, slightly more concerned

For Narinder, and all across these months, this feeling he had caught on his former vessel he couldn't shake it off, and it was something that he found not only awful but actually difficult. He hadn't loved anyone as fiercely as him, but still he wanted to try.

" I had to talk to you... First off, please, you know me for a lifetime, just call me Narinder " - The feline requests, letting Abel take a calmer position as he continued speaking - " I... "

"Awh, gonna get emotional? Don't try. He's not into you." / " I wanted to, to thank you formally for, ehrm-... Giving me the crown back. My silibings will be most likely pleased if I revive them now with my power given, thank you. "

" I was toyed around, wasn't I? Just a pawn to your game... why do you even thank me? " / " It'll be always my pleasure, master. It's something I had to do. " - Abel mutters with a quiet undertone of hurtness and despair.

"If you only knew how much I love you..." / " No, seriously, thank you. And, if I'm being honest with myself... You've done a good job. You weren't as stubborn as I thought "

After some silence of unease and lingering tension, finally Narinder sighed and turned his back, before Abel decided to continue on his way to the exit.

But, something made the feline turn his steps back and walk behind Abel, the both of them silently aknowledgeding that they were respectively following and being follower by each other.

Calix shared looks with Narinder, before the first cat denies with his head with dissapointment and turns his back to him, to continue helping someone who, same as his fellow cultist, turned slightly too.

And not only the rwo of them, but more cultists didn't dared to look into his eyes. Even Fabien and Gabrielle, who were extremly sociable, didn't bothered to ask a thing to the new leader.

The realization that maybe taking over his vessel's place after the first formed entirely a cult for himself was making him look exactly the opposite of what he was originally meant to be; wanting to look like a hero...

Meant to be seen as an usurper.

Despite of the lingering anxiety frowing into him, he managed to make a quiet, yet quivering meowling frkm his throat, reaching for Abel's shoulder.

" Why can't you just leave me alone... I've done so much, let me to rest. " / " Is it something the matter? " - The shorter lamb spoke, his eyes reflecting the body of Narinder.

" You're fucking it all up. Shut up. " / " I-I wanted to ask you something, if it's not uncomfortable? "

After the silent nod of Abel, he stares at him with a face filled with mixed emotions, unease, confussion, and ocer all of those, love.

" If I may... Can I, try to do things better to us...? I know how bad it was for you to lose the crown ... " A Narinder with his two tails wagging asks to Abel.

" Can you? " - The reply lingers in the air for a moment, the hurtness, the anger, all let out in two simple words.

" Whether I can or can not— " - Narinder was just noticing Abel's bell missing, since it was part of his cult leader's outfit, so he quickly undid the one he was wearing, given by one of the followers, putting it into Abel's neck with a gentle touch, before placing his paw over the golden ornament - " —It's up to you, Abel "

" He's being too kind... " / " Yeah, and what about it? I'm now just another follower, this is what you wanted, and now want to, I don't know, take it back? " - Abel says in a angry, yet also quivering voice, the tears filling his eyes as he sighes - " You made your choice anyways, and I just accomplished. I'll always do. "

As the former cult leader walked away and was opening the flap of his new tent, Narinder enters with him, still wanting to speak out at least something, an apology wasn't enough.

" Abel, you're misunderstanding everything, I didn't meant to imply I want you to take back the power, in fact, I wanted to ask you something more, something very important if I say it myself, I— "

The cat tries to extend his paw to the lamb, he turned to him, and inmediatly he took it back to his body and up to his snout, looking down, the last mentioned took two steps to Narinder, closing in their distance.

" Will you ask away now? Because I definetly can't wait to hear 'a favour'. I'm listening. " - He says, with a sarcastic remark, looking at the leader.

" I wanted to—" / " ask if you're free tonight to gaze stars? Really? You're softening a bit too much, Narinder. Are you gonna keep him waiting? Or you're expecting he falls into— "

" Shut up! I'm speaking right now! " / " What? I'm speaking my mind out... quite literally, since I coexist in you like a virus. You can't keep a bird caged too much, Narinder. Try me, and you'll see how quick I can get you down to your knees again. "

" Leader? " - The lamb looks slightly more concerned than before, raising an eyebrow as Narinder shakes his head and looks down.

After some moment of silence for Narinder to shake away that parasite of his mind, the poor feline sighed, before looking at Abel. In those black deep eyes with an horizonal white slit for pupil was flicker of... something. Narinder passed too much time in the Purgatory he didn't recognized emotions of others, but he knew it was something bad.

" Abel... Let me tell you something, and promise me you won't judge me. "

Not an answer, but a quiet nod let Narinder know Abel was both concerned and slightly interested in what he had to say.

" Look I- " - He saw a camelia laying down on the floor, surely of the flowers that Abel brought to his tent when he was asleep, he picked it up, before continuing - " I took my time to... think it out, and... You're the only person I know that has any emotions for me. You're the one who knows the good and bad of me... even if that bad it's big or small. We've been through much, but, ever since we managed to have talks in the space I was trapped in, I've felt— "

He was hearing his heart beating in his ears loudly, the anxiety that crept into him making his voice quiver and his hands to shake, progessively getting worse.

" I've felt something, trapped here inside my chest, deep down of the fur and the muscles, inside my bones, inside my heart... It's something I didn't knew I could feel, I didn't knew I could... have. You're the one that made the waiting be happier, and honestly? If I kept trapped in there for the rest of my days with you, I'd be gladfully doing it. Because you were a light that shined in the dark veil that rised down my face... you made me, kinder, happier, even more, you made me had a hope for something better— "

" So, what's the point of this? " - Abel cuts him sharply, Narinder shakes his head, aware of the fact that he trailed off the main theme, the question, right. -

" I-I wanted to ask you something. I, simply needdd to get this off my chest. "

He extends the camelia to the former leader, looking at him.

" If you still think I can't, can you give me an opportunity to make things better? To, take you as my husband? "

...

Abel's face gets a red, small blush, taking the camelia with an unsecure touch, before gulping. He knew that, by official cult's rules, the leader had to marry the follower in a ritual, no matter if they developed feelings or not. It was actually sad putting it into words, but Abel didn't denied, just looked down and sighed.

" I... I'm flattered, honestly. "

Narinder's face shines with hope, as Abel nods, turning back and putting the camelia down onto a small jar, and putting some water on it, he was trembling, and as he had a small time to think, he turns slightly his face to him

" As for a follower, I'm obligued to say yes, of course, but... As the former cult leader, I believe firmly in my moral, in that everyone can be redeemed. You've proved yourself to be the thing that the cult needs, and... yes, yes I do. Take me to the church, my dear. "

- - - - -

The dear, sweet smell of camelias fill the air as Abel leaves a new daily offering to the actual god and leader of the thrieving and joyful cult, Narinder, and retires back to their hut. Disciple and husband of the cult's leader now, who would've thought about it?

Taking the robes of the disciple that were assigned to him, changes into them, finally staring at the mirror with a melancholic look in his eyes.

Hey, the fleece in white with red accents didn't looked so bad on him.

The end <3

Hope you enjoyed it!! More to come, and wait for the Narinder's lore, I believe you may find it interesting! :3

#cult of the lamb #cotl au #cotl fanart #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #cult of the lamb narinder #follower narinder #cotl #fanart #cotl fanfic #cult of the lamb fanfic #au fanfic #took me three FUCKING days #Sinful Delights AU

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elitadream · 1 year ago

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I’ve been wondering. When Bowser learns of Jr.’s friendship with Mario, would he ever go as far as using Kamek’s powers to brainwash/hypnotize Jr. into hating Mario as a last resort should his attempts to turn his son against the plumber continue to fail?

Maybe the thought would cross his mind. Maybe, in a fleeting moment of overwhelming anger and helplessness, he would even dare give it a second of reflexion or two.

But he could never.

While my Bowser is truly horrible as an individual, and especially as a foe, the love that he has for Junior is surprisingly healthy and sincere. He doesn't want to control his son. He just wants what's "best" for him, or what he considers to be from his own twisted and corrupted point of view. Bowser has a very flawed and skewed perception of most things, and he's much too selfish to outwardly acknowledge his faults, but he's still capable of feeling guilt and regret. And he would deeply regret doing such a thing to Junior.

He loves his son unconditionally, even though he doesn't understand his reasoning or motivation sometimes. And so, he would rather let him make his own choices than force him to do as he says, no matter how painful or humiliating.

#asks #mario #bowser #junior #bowser jr #concept #headcanon #personal portrayal #thoughts and ramblings

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valyrfia · 11 months ago

Note

Hello! I came to ask you to please write that essay you mentioned about how Charles is feminized in the fics, but you already beat me to it hahahah. Pero he de decir que coincido contigo en que se asigna una estructura heteronormativa a la dinámica de pareja y Charles acaba asumiendo el rol femenino, lo que se percibe como algo negativo debido en gran medida a la misoginia internalizada.

Personalmente, como ávido consumidor de fanfics, estas son caracterizaciones con las que siempre me encuentro y, francamente, me molestan. En el caso de Charles, lo describen como sumiso, ingenuo y con baja autoestima, en resúmenes con un carácter “débil”. Sinceramente no le veo nada malo si es con fines narrativos, pero el hecho de que muchos fanfics solo lo describan así o asuman que esa es su personalidad da mucho que pensar, sobre todo porque ignoran otros aspectos de La personalidad de Charles (o bueno, lo poco que sabemos sobre la personalidad de Charles, ya que no debemos olvidar que no lo conocemos y Charles solo muestra lo que quiere mostrar).

En fin, sólo decirte que valoro mucho tus reflexiones. 💕💕💕

Hi anon! I'm glad you agreed, and I agree with your points too. My issue is, and continues to be, when people can't divorce the narrative from the real person and these characterisations carry over into spaces where they shouldn't be. I'm going to expand wider than just RPF here and say the narrative around Charles' generally is sometimes a little much. Take this whole "haunted by tragedy" thing that Sky Sports was having a little too much fun with this weekend, with Damon Hill saying that the reason why Charles wasn't driving well was because he was distracted by grief? Sure, it makes for a good narrative to sell on your sports channel, but doesn't fit with the image of Charles who won Baku in F2 the weekend after his father died, and won his maiden grand prix the day after a childhood friend of his died.

It's so easy for all of us, fans to news pundits to talk about Charles battling with the circumstances of his life, whether it be those he's lost, or Ferrari being like a toxic ex he can never quite seem to leave, that it strips him of recognition of his own agency in a lot of ways. Charles has shown incredible mental strength in his life, and lest we forget, literally girlbossed his way to a legendary Ferrari contract. I got a few anons calling Charles mentally weak for not disobeying team orders in Japan, and I couldn't disagree more. This is a racing driver approaching his prime, who knew he could not defend on 20 lap newer tyres but ran an incredible race nonetheless. Charles is not a damsel in distress, he's an agent completely in control of his own destiny.

Speaking of destiny, the il predestinato nickname slaps, but I think is incredibly misleading for some people sometimes. When Charles wins a world championship, it won't be because he is 'destined' or 'fulfilling some prophecy', it will be due to his own choices, his own skill, his own talent, his own hard work. I think that Charles as a WDC is going to get hit with a VERY different narrative than the one we see now, one that acknowledges his hard work and agency in making his dream come true.

#charles leclerc #anon #asks

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maniculum · 1 year ago

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Google Docs vs. Geoffrey Chaucer

A while back, just for fun, I pitted Google Docs's fancy new (read: hilariously inept) machine-learning spellchecker against a chapter of my dissertation that contained a lot of quotations from Le Morte Darthur:

At the time I suggested I might go back and do the same with the chapters that included substantial quotation from the Canterbury Tales and (shudder) Piers Plowman... and today I find myself with little better to do, so let's give it a go. Below the cut.

Extremely helpful there, thanks. For the curious, gilofre is a plant; in Modern English it's gillyflower. Clowe is just "clove". "Clowe-galofre" is nowhere on Google or in the OED, but it seems "Galofre" is an attested surname, so Google thinks maybe that's what I meant.

Fascinating choices here. That is of course meant to be nutmeg, and Google Docs has seemingly decided that putting in a space to turn one misspelled word into two words, one of which is spelled correctly, is a positive development. That or this is a continuation of the previously-observed trend that Google turns things into brands and corporation as much as possible -- apparently there is a company called "Emuge-Franken", which is the only result for "emuge" on Google Search.

It hasn't gotten anything right so far, by the way -- all those red underlines I haven't screenshotted anything for, it either suggests a word that is wrong but unremarkably so, or fails to suggest anything.

(Never mind, it got a couple right in between the last one and this one.)

This is interesting in that it shows Google Docs interprets things differently based on capitalization. This instance of bityde is capitalized because it's at the beginning of the line; the other one in the phrase bityde what bityde, which isn't capitalized, Google is able to correctly interpret as "betide". However, it seems to think the first is a proper noun and makes different suggestions. (Blyde is the Afrikaans name of the Motlatse River in South Africa, it would seem.)

I am reluctantly forced to hand it to Google Docs with this one. Like, no, that's not what Chaucer meant of course, but I can respect the shot being taken. Also interesting that it gets the blue underline because you can't really spell a transliteration wrong, but that's not how the system we normally use renders it. Not sure why spere "spear" (Google suggests "sphere") and vestiments "vestments" (Google gets this one right) are also marked as blue (style/grammar) rather than red (spelling), though.

... and now I'm taking what I just handed to Google Docs back away. WTF is this? Why...? you know what, we're moving on.

Bafflingly, Google thinks there is nothing at all unusual about that first line. Yep, that's normal Modern English there.

And here's our first example in this post of Google Docs trying to suggest a spelling that is also in Middle English, because I very much suspect the data it uses has been contaminated. Actually, come to think, if their machine learning system bases its judgments on what other users write rather than the old system with a set dictionary, I bet all the people writing papers about pre-standardized-spelling English literature are really screwing up the data. Which is hilarious -- if true, that would mean that I'm actually part of the problem for writing this whole dissertation full of Middle English quotes in Google Docs.

You might think this is another example of the same, but in fact the change from -ioun to -ion makes that suspect, and the Middle English Dictionary doesn't recognize it without the <u>. And if you Google Refleccion, all the results are in Spanish. However, I can't seem to find it in a Spanish-English dictionary, and those same dictionaries tell me the Spanish for reflection is reflexion -- maybe this is a variant spelling? I only have basic high-school Spanish to draw on here, so if any of my followers are fluent and can explain refleccion to me, I would be interested to learn.

Hm... no, that's not right either. Although a quick Google search tells me that there is a YA book called Physik, so that's probably what's screwing up this one. Probably not ideal for that sort of thing to happen.

And this one, it seems, is French. (Again, according to the Middle English Dictionary, all the attested Middle English spellings have the <u> -- but the French cognate is in fact spelled just like Google suggests, as far as I can tell. I don't speak French at all, though, so grain of salt.) I wonder how that happened -- do non-English words just kind of drift into the machine-learning system's vocabulary? Possibly through the same mechanism I speculated about with the Middle English above -- i.e., people write documents that are mostly in English, but contain some quotations or something in other languages, and if that happens enough, Google starts to think it's an English word?

Wait, is that maybe what's screwing a lot of this up? Either Google's system is going "This document is in English, so all the words in it are English words" and thus stuff just keeps bleeding between languages and screwing up the dictionary, OR Google's system is just kind of language-agnostic and sees no issue with suggesting French words in a document that's mostly in English? Is this why there are so many words that aren't correct Modern English spelling, but which Google Docs doesn't mark wrong? Like, they happen to line up with words in other languages, so Google just thinks you're borrowing really haphazardly throughout?

Also, side note, it tried to correct "hir" to "hirt", which is not an English word, but apparently stands for High Impact Resistance Training. Moving on.

Shenden is a Middle English verb that basically means "to damage or destroy". You don't really see it much in Modern English, though the OED has a couple examples of 20th-century usage. Anyway, I thought this was another case of Google bringing in different Middle English words, but a quick search tells me "Sente" is a skincare brand. That's probably more relevant.

Google Docs again just ignoring whole lines.

Odd choice there, sight being closer than site in terms of spelling. Maybe the algorithm assumes that if you end with an <e> you probably mean the second one.

Interesting, Google Docs. Why do you think that should be "night"? (Oddly, it actually gets all the red-underlined words in this line correct, meaning it pretty much has the context of the word.) Somewhat weird suggestion there.

I'm about a quarter of the way through the document and I think this is long enough for now; I'll probably come back and reblog with additions later. Before I go, however, here are my lists of "things spellcheck should be able to fix but can't" from what I've gone through so far.

First, spellings that differ from Modern English by only one letter, but which completely stump Google Docs (i.e., it marks them wrong but only gives the "why am I not seeing a suggestion?" message):

Goute ("gout")

Herbes ("herbs")

Melodye ("melody")

Smale ("small")

Swete ("sweet")

Syde ("side")

Ther ("there")

Wel ("well")

And second, words that are not correct in Modern English but that Google Docs does not mark wrong:

Anoon ("anon")

Attempree ("a temperate")

Beautee ("beauty")

Bowle ("bowl")

Dar nat ("dare not")

Daunce ("dance")

Dede ("dead")

Doon ("do")

Dronke ("drank")

Dronken ("drunken")

Fyr ("fire")

Gyse ("guise")

Hadde ("had")

Hir ("her")

Hir ("their")

Hond ("hand")

Lak ("lack")

Lakked ("lacked")

Lordes ("lords")

Maad ("made")

Pyne ("pain")

Rasour ("razor")

Sayde ("said")

Shere ("shear")

Som ("some)

Sondry ("sundry")

Spyces ("spices")

Styward ("steward")

Syk ("sick")

Thencens ("the incense")

Usshers ("ushers")

Wente ("went")

Wyf ("wife")

Y-goon ("gone")

#damnable machines #middle english #medieval literature #geoffrey chaucer #canterbury tales

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aliteraringkey · 2 months ago

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This one's an analysis of an extract of the 17th chapter of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, 1818. Not my greatest work, especially since it's lacking in terms of style analysis. The title Frankenstein; or the Modern Prometheus introduces the theme of hubris and playing god, which is central in this novel: playing god is what led Victor to create his creature. In a way, Mary Shelley makes a parody of godly creation in the hands of humans to turn it horrific. The general line of analysis will be based on the notion of accountability and the fight for dominance it instills as told through the lens of Victor's first person narrative and internal focalisation. a. The monster's attempt at dominating the scene and thus Victor.

This scene is dominated by the creature. It uses strong, authoritarian language despite being, in the hierarchy of the novel, not only below Victor as his creation, but also as the one who is described in the scene and not being the one narrating, creating a reversal in the typical order of things. Indeed, Victor's internal focalisation shows both his hatred for the monster and how he's being dominated by it, unable to muster a reply. He orders Victor to create another creature for him, a female, presumably so they can fall in love and live far away from humans, from whom the creature was just rejected in chapter 16. The monster shows humanity, asserting himself as a person of equal right and equal intelligence to Victor with his use of language and his need for love.

b. Victor's attempt at regaining control of the situation in a heroic way.

Victor dominates the narration and the written dialogue once more, while he lets the creature fade into the background. The scene heightens in tension as the general anger he feels turn to hellish rage, maybe due to the fact that his "peaceful life among the cottagers" feels like he is parodying humanity to Victor, for whom the creation has only ever bred disasters and general unhappiness. (Perhaps there is guilt hidden behind this anger, but this is pure speculation.) He then places himself as a heroic figure, asserting his dominance in a vaguely chiasmic structure and an abundance of I's. He acts as if he is doing humanity a favor by rejecting the monster's request (i.e by saying "the world", he implies that he is saving it). However, Victor does not do anything new or groundbreaking: once more, he is simply rejecting his creation and the responsibilities he's supposed to have regarding him, which will only breed more anger within the creature and thus more disasters. c. The creature questions the meaning of humanity.

Once more, the creature dominates the scene and will continue to do so until the end of his monologue. He reverses the roles between him and Victor: although Victor is the scientist, on the side of reasoning, he is the one who refuses to reason with his creature, opting to let his emotions (i.e "anger", "rage") get the better of him. He introduces his own perspective into the narrative through an accumulation of rhetorical questions and developments on how he is an outcast to all of humanity. However, his crimes are downplayed, even erased: in a way, he tries to place himself as a romantic hero but, in a way, fails as his actions are not virtuous. This itself is another reversal of roles: although Victor is the one narrating, is the one who made the entire story start with the creation of the creature, here, he is not the hero. He re-introduces the paradox of the entire novel; the man who gave him life is the man who rejects him, perhaps as a reversal and reflexion on parent-child relationships (e.g Medea, Seneca). (Perhaps "the work of your own hands" is a reference to the Bible and how men were made by God from clay/the dust of the earth). Once more, there is an abundance of I's within both the creature's and Victor's dialogues, showing how the both of them are only focused on their side of the story, thus breeding further conflict between the two.

(I'm gonna stop here although there are another thirthy-ish lines that would be interesting to dive into, since the themes are pretty repetitive from this point forward.)

To conclude this scene is mostly one of a fight for dominance through language. Both of the characters try to gain the upper hand morally speaking on the other, although the both of them refuse to take true accountability for their actions and depict great hubris (i.e, the accumulation of I's). Victor constantly rejects his creation, parodying God's creations whereas the creature pins the world against him like a romantic hero without developing on his own wrongdoings. (Later on, Victor is even referred to as the creature's "arch enemy", reinforcing this idea that he is parodying God by becoming Satan.) In general, Frankenstein seems to revolve around the modern debate (for the 19th century) of scientific ethics, here told through the lens of a failing father/son relationship.

#literature #literary analysis #frankenstein #i might add onto this later #might is the keyword for this entire account

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stuff-i-write-for-fun · 10 months ago

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MOANING MYRTLE

Part 1

The girl who never got to grow up…

Myrtle wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of a hug again. Her parents had been able to visit from time to time after she had died and she had held on to their affection for a while. Her mother always gave the best hugs. Unfortunately, she had died a few years ago, followed swiftly by her father. Myrtle was alone. She had tried to make friends, with the dead as much as the living…But, all her tentatives had failed. She had hence decided that she would no longer try, even though she still wanted someone to talk to…to talk to about all of the things that made her feel sad or upsetted her—like the fact that her death had not even been on purpose ! She had heard the voice of a boy and then, pouf, she had become a ghost…

June 13, 1943.

She remembered the date like it was yesterday. And she felt as if her vengeance on Olive Hornby was not what kept her in the school. She yet to have succeeded into making a true friend, and not even Harry Potter was kind enough to befriend her…But, she should have known. Boys like that never wasted time on girls like her when she was still alive, why would they start now ?

She sighed, one of the sighs that many mistook for whining. She then looked at her reflection in the water and started sobbing at her appearance…She had wished that once her teen years over, she would become beautiful like all of the other girls that had dared make fun of her.

But now ? She would be stuck in this form forever. She felt as if fate had played a very cruel joke on her.

Myrtle's ghostly heart ached for the fact that no one understood her. Everyone just thought she was being dramatic and whiny when really, she was just being misunderstood. She wanted someone who would look past her ghost-like appearance and see the person inside. Someone who would see her true character and take the time to get to know her. But she had resigned herself to the fact that it would never happen.

She continued to gaze at her reflection, and her tears turned to sobs. What was the point of staying if she was all alone ?

She extended her hand towards the water and let it sink to her elbow...She used to love water, but now, she was tired of it. She wanted to feel things again—anything—but the content sadness and emptiness that she seemed to feel all the time now. She stayed like that for a while until, something unexpected happened…Someone entered her toilets. A boy. She had already seen him before, she thought his name was Drago…Or was it Draco ? He didn't seem to have noticed her yet and looked scared beyond anything. She stayed silent for a while—waiting,—which was unexpected coming from her.

But then, he looked straight at his reflexion in the mirror, and Myrtle could see the exact same look she had given her own reflection a few moments ago. Suddenly, he saw her in the reflection and turned around bruscally and drew out his wand out of instinct. She nearly smiled at his instinctive reaction before saying in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Sorry to disappoint you but, I don't think that'll do much..."

Her words took the boy by surprise. He stared at her for a moment, taking in her ghostly appearance and familiar pigtails. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then just stood there, staring at her as if he wasn't sure what to do next.

"You're her," he said in a whisper.

Myrtle nodded, but she didn't say anything else. A faint smile crossed her face as the boy's eyes met hers and she could tell he was still trying to process everything that was happening. He looked at Myrtle for a few seconds, as if considering his options for a minute before finally lowering his wand.

"You're her, aren't you ?"

Myrtle arched an eyebrow at his comment before crossing her arms defensively.

"If you're talking about Moaning Myrtle, the whining ghost with pigtails, I think you already have your answer..." She said while pointing at her two pigtails and Draco only shook his head before speaking again.

"No, I mean, you're the Dark Lord's first kill..."

She shook her head again before rectifying.

"Rectification. First accident…His knack of killing people on purpose came afterwards…"

She had never discussed the events surrounding her death in more than 40 years ago, and it was a sensitive topic for her.

"So what if I am ?…I'm not some trophy you can show off, you know," she said, her voice cracking just slightly. In her mind, she recalled the day she died at the hands of a young Voldemort. An accident, but an accident that had robbed her of the chance to live a full life.

He bit his lip before looking quite..sad ? He was shaking and Myrtle could see that he was obviously feeling sad and upset. Myrtle had not felt or had contact with emotions for a while now and couldn't remember what it really looked like anymore. But, she still wanted to help this boy that seemed so torn by his feelings.

She was surprised by the empathy she felt for Draco. Despite her bitter attitude and aloof nature, she was still able to recognize pain and sadness when she saw it. She let her arms rest at her side as she took a step back, her expression softening slightly.

"I have gone through a lot in my life, but I have never seen anyone look as hopeless as you do right now. What's wrong ?"

For a moment, Draco was caught off guard by her kindness. She really was nothing like the moaning ghost the stories had told all the years. He felt…seen.

He hesitated for a moment, before he finally opened up to her.

"I'm scared. I have been charged with a mission and I…don’t know what to do. I feel trapped. I can't do anything right anymore and I just want..I just wanted…" He started crying.

She sat on the edge of the sink near him and saw him suddenly break into tears. "Don’t cry," she said and continued. "Don’t cry...tell me what’s wrong…I can help you...I'm sure I can…"

She wanted to put her hand on his shoulder, but, decided to against it. She listened instead when he answered her between sobs.

"No one can help me," said Malfoy "I can’t do it...I can’t...It won’t work…and unless I do it soon...he says he’ll kill me..."

Her heart went out to him. The poor boy was clearly terrified and she couldn't help but want to comfort him.

"Shh...shh...calm down," she said softly, trying to reassure him. She took a deep breath before continuing. "Just slow down and...and tell me everything. Who is the 'he' that says he'll kill you ?"

Myrtle would be lying if she said she didn't have a small idea of who he was talking about. She was still a Ravenclaw after all. She tilted her head to the side a bit before deciding wondering if she should try to touch him, even if she knew she wouldn't be able to truly touch him…being a ghost and all. She waited for him to answer her.

Draco saw her hesitation, the way she wanted to reach out to him but didn't.

"V...Voldemort," he said, his voice cracking with fear. He was clearly reluctant to speak the Dark Lord's name out loud. He shook his head again, as if trying to dismiss the thought, but still the tears rolled down his cheeks.

The name made the little ghost sigh…Of course.

"You don't have to do anything that you don't want to. You have a choice, even if he likes to make you think you do not."

Draco blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't expected her to say that.

"But I don't," he said softly, his voice shaking with sadness and fear. "If I don't do what he wants, he'll kill me. He'll kill me and my family. He says I have until the end of the school year to do as he says, and I..I can't...I can't do this..."

By now, Draco was full on sobbing, his whole body shaking with each wave of emotion.

She saw how sad and conflicted he was and suddenly had the urge to hug him. And then, she decided to follow her instincts and try to hug him—expecting to pass right through him. But her eyes widened in shock as she felt…something solid. She didn’t walk past him. She. Was. Touching. Him. She was actually touching him ! She seemed awestruck for a moment, as shocked as him at the fact that she was feeling the fabric of his white shirt under her palms. They looked at each other for a moment, unable to utter a word. But she still hugged him tightly.

Draco found himself being embraced and his tears immediately stopped.

He had never in his whole life felt so much warmth and comfort as in that hug. He felt her arms wrap around him and his entire body let out a sigh of relief. As the moment of shock passed for both of them, he looked down at her and saw her ghost face, only inches away from his own.

It felt so real, and yet he knew it couldn't be.

The two of them stayed in the embrace for another moment until Draco finally spoke.

"You're hugging me…"

She nodded and didn’t speak a word. She couldn’t. She had spent decades without being able to touch any living being…

Draco couldn’t believe it. It felt so weird, the way her arms felt around him and the way she could feel his heart beat against her chest.

She was hugging him, and more importantly she was able to. He hugged her back tightly, as if he were trying to hold on to this strange and surreal moment for as long as possible. And as he did, he saw a small smile appear on the ghost's lips.

She felt so happy…But the moment was suddenly cut short when she heard footsteps and immediately hid in a corner.

Draco, still shocked, had his eyes still wide open when Harry walked in and used the forbidden curse on him…

Myrtle could have forgiven Harry a lot of things, but nearly killing the only living person that she had ever been able to touch in more than 40 years ? That, she couldn't.

Draco's shocked expression turned to terror as he felt the pain of the curse coursing through his entire body. His last thought was of Myrtle, the ghost who had suddenly gained an inexplicable ability to touch him, and whose soft embrace now suddenly left him in agony.

At that moment, the lights flickered and a cold breeze swept through the bathroom, as if some unseen force had suddenly stirred up in the toilet.

Harry's eyes suddenly turned to the corner of the bathroom in which Myrtle had been hiding.

He had no idea why, but he could have sworn that he had sensed something.

He approached the corner, his wand held tightly in his hand out of habit.

He hesitated a few seconds, but finally decided to point his wand at the corner and cast a Lumos. Harry jumped in surprise as he suddenly saw an enormous, shrieking ghostly form in front of him.

For a moment, he thought that the thing before him was going to kill him, and he pointed his wand at the figure in the corner and prepared to defend himself.

Then, suddenly, the figure turned back into a ghost and he saw the familiar form of the moaning Myrtle.

Her eyes were filled with rage and hatred, and it was so unexpected that he froze in his tracks.

"GET OUT OF MY BATHROOM !" She screamed and all the doors of the cubicles opened as she looked straight at Harry with loathing.

Harry was taken back by her scream and the sudden opening of the bathroom stalls around him.

He tried to point his wand at her, but he couldn't. Her rage was too powerful and her eyes were filled with a pure, unfiltered hatred.

"I was jus—" he started, but was cut off as Myrtle screamed again. "OUT ! JUST GET OUT !"

Harry's mind was racing, filled with a sudden fear and confusion.

He had never seen anyone, let alone a ghost, look at him with such hate. He could feel her rage burning into his own body, as if she was trying to burn his soul away.

With a last attempt to regain his composure, he tried to speak again.

"I was just trying to—"

"GET OUT !" And with that, she raised her hand and used the wind to throw Harry out of her bathroom.

Harry was completely caught off guard by the sudden force that hit him like a ton of bricks. He was flung out of the bathroom and across the corridor.

He hit the ground hard, and for a moment he laid there, stunned, his entire body in agony. He could still feel Myrtle's rage burning into him, and he shuddeted as he desperately tried to get away from her.

She closed the door of her bathroom before returning to Draco. She tried to see if he was still alive.

"…Are you okay ?"

Draco lay on the floor, eyes closed and the pain of the curse still coursing through his body. As Myrtle approached him, he slowly opened his eyes and turned to face her. He was clearly shaken, his breathing shallow and his body covered in cuts and bruises. But he was still alive.

He tried to sit up, the pain of his body sending him into agony.

"Myrtle…you…you protected me."

Myrtle sighed and shook her head.

"Harry is upset. But he is not a bad boy. And I will not let him kill you…"

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He didn't expect her to be protective of him. He thought that she would let Harry kill him..

But she hadn't.

She had stood up for him when he needed it...

His body was in pain, but at that moment, his heart was filled with gratitude for her.

"But why…Why would you…?"

Myrtle herself didn’t know why she had protected him. She just knew she had to.

She was grateful when she saw professor Snape entering the bathroom and take care of Draco. She wanted to get out of the shadows and take his hand, to at least make him feel as if he wasn't alone…But she knew better than meddling with human affairs and just stayed quiet while seeing multiple people walking around her toilets. She didn't even try to stop them and some of the teachers as well as students were even surprised by the fact that the young ghost was quiet, her who usually never was able to stop complaining or whining. She just stayed in one of the toilet cubicles, sitting on one of the toilet seats—thinking.

…What had just happened ?

#fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #moaning myrtle #severus snape #albus dumbledore #professor dumbledore #marauders

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