#seems more cost effective to never initiate anything in the first place

[skateboard-theta]

if i can be so honest for a moment. the most compelling thing about Yorklina is that Carolina just fucking dropped him like nothing. i crack up. go girl he meant nothing to you. blandest hetero ship ever

[ericspinkhair]

guys my age don’t know how to love me good

pairing: dom!juyeon x noona!reader

synopsis: lee juyeon is the only guy who makes sex worth it

word count: 3.1k

warnings: noona kink, mentions of toxic and abusive sex, deep throating, no mentions of protection (wrap it before you tap it), inexperienced/unsure reader

a/n: this is for @rolezeure + anon

requests are open!!

masterlist + requests

'y/n, I swear to god if you won't come to this party with me I will actually never talk to you ever again. you know what this is?' your best friend siyeon dramatically held up a pair of scissors. 'scissors, to cut our friendship.'

'but what am I supposed to even do there?' you scoffed. parties were stupid 'I don't know how to talk to people.'

'you don't need to talk, dumbass. you get drunk, grind on some hot dude and get laid.' siyeon rolled her eyes as she was so done with you.

'as if that is supposed to convince me to go. sex is completely overraded, my dude. it just hurts and the guys don't even care. as long as they get off on you it's fine.' you had not have had any positive experiences with sex. it usually hurt, the guys were rough and didn't really care if you were crying. there wasn't any pleasure you associated with it.

'that's cause you've been with only toxic men. but please, come with me! it's way too awkward to go alone and I need a hype woman. Sangyeon will be there. I cannot miss the opportunity to get with mr. dilf. have you seen him? he is sooo hot, y/n. I might never have another opportunity like this. and I need a lot of alcohol in my system first before I can initiate something,' she whined. she gave you the best puppy eyes she could to make you give in.

you knew your friend had been eyeing sangyeon for weeks. siyeon had tripped the first time she saw him and had to wipe away the drool from her chin. she then memorized his schedule and you would always have to watch him from afar. however, she could not utter a single comprehensible sentence without alcohol if she was nervous but when she was drunk she was the most sociable and flirty person and always got with whom she wanted.

sangyeon was usually never to be found at parties but this particular one was for his friend's birthday so siyeon knew he would show up. who knows if she would ever see him again, after all, he had just graduated from college and would be leaving campus. this was her last opportunity. you sighed.

'fine,' you finally gave in. she squealed and hugged you so tightly that you had trouble breathing.

'omg, I love you so much, y/n! you're a lifesaver. I owe you big big time.'

'you certainly do.'

you tried to convince yourself that maybe a party was just what you needed. finals were finally over and you were on your well deserved break before you started your last year of college.

a week later, the two of you took a cab to the party location. you arrived at a huge mansion that must have cost a huge ton of money. it felt like thousands of people were there, getting drunk and going skinny dipping in the gigantic pool. you recognized some of the people. you didn't really know them but you often saw them walk around on campus.

when you entered the house some dudes whistled at you. ew. you definitely had to get a drink to be able to stand all these gross men lurking around here. at least you had your pepper spray with you. better safe than sorry.

siyeon and you found the bar and immediately downed a couple of shots. the alcohol burned in your throat as you drank one after the other. your friend needed the effects alcohol brings with it quickly.

'have you found him already?' you scream over the music at siyeon.

'no, he's nowhere to be seen… maybe he's not here at all' she was pouting.

I grabbed her by the arm. 'come on. let's go search for him somewhere else. hmm, maybe he's outside?' you dragged her through the mass of people. she was gonna get laid tonight, you were gonna make sure of it.

the backyard was just as crowded but at least you got some fresh air. a lot of people were grinding on each and making out in the pool and hot tub.

'oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. he's there!' siyeon whisper shouted at you.

'where?' you couldn't find him in the crowd.

'over there next to the huge ass plant. he's standing next to jacob.' ah, you saw him. him and jacob were engaged in a deep conversation and occasionally sipped on their drinks.

siyeon just grabbed a drink out of a passing person's hand, ignore the complains and drank it all in one go.

'I need more.' so you went to get more alcohol before you could convince her that now was the time.

'how do I look? is my makeup smudged? do I look enough like 'daddy, I've been a good girl. pls choke me?' she kept on trying to flatten her hair hastily.

'you look absolutely gorgeous, girl. go get him, tiger.' she did look stunning. the red lipstick matched with her bold red dress. it was short and showed a lot of cleavage. her beautiful curves were perfectly highlighted and if sangyeon didn't drool over her then you would seriously have to buy him new eyes.

you high-fived each other and then she went to go on her mission.

you watched how he scanned her up and down, taking in her beauty, when she approached him and then smiled brightly. she touched his muscular arms as he said something that made her laugh. he seemed to be enjoying her company jacob, who had understood what was going on, had joined his other friends kevin and eric on the dance floor inside.

'who are we spying on?' someone whispered in your ear, making you jump and almost spill your drink. rude.

'oh, seeing if my best friend's gonna get laid tonight like she'd hoped to. seems positive so far.' the guy who had come up to you nodded interested. you had no idea who he was but you didn't exactly mind his company. he was a handsome fellow, with a face sculpted by the gods. his dark blue hair made him stand out even more.

'so what are you gonna do if she leaves with him? are you just going to leave?' he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders. 'probably. she's the only reason I came to this god awful party.'

'oh, you don't like it?' he raised his eyebrows.

'no, it's too full, it's too loud and I'm bored. who even is this guy who threw this party. I actually have no idea who he is,' you complained about everything. he seemed to become more amused as you went on.

'then allow me to introduce myself. hey, my name is juyeon.' he held out his hand.

'what does that have to do with- oh my god this is YOUR party!' you realized in shock. your face was burning with embarrassment. but he didn't seem to mind at all and just laughed light heartedly.

'yeah, I'm sorry you don't like it. if you like I could take you somewhere quieter with less people.' oh dude, he was flirting. why? you did look hot as fuck in your short black dress but you had literally just insulted his party.

'I'm sorry I'm not really up for sex or whatever it is you're offering.' you scratched your neck awkwardly. you wouldn't mind if he visited you in your dreams sometimes tho to have a good time.

'that's too bad. I was hoping I could make you feel good.' he brushed a finger over your cheek.

'I doubt you could. no one ever has.' he snorted at that.

'how old even are you?' you asked him.

'19, you don't have to worry. I'm a legal adult. you?' 'almost 21.'

'ooh, that's fun! are you sure you don't want to spend some private time with me, noona?' that was fucking unfair. he was using this noona thing to get you to give in. he knew exactly what he was doing and you could feel yourself getting aroused.

'I just don't think sex is right for me. it just hurts and doesn't do anything to make me feel good,' you explained to him.

'seems like you've only been with douchebags. I have a 100% rate of making women come. you should try and see for yourself, noona.' his lustful gaze stared deep into your soul, making your legs wobbly.

it seemed so tempting. he was super hot and couldn't help but notice the outline of his abs on his shirt. the alcohol was also encouraging you to make some bad decisions and step out of your comfort zone. this man somehow made you super horny with his toned body and god like face, whether you liked it or not. you caught yourself seriously considering going with him.

'here's a proposal. I give you head and if you're not satisfied with my services we can just stop there.' he leaned down and whispered in my ear. 'I would love to hear you scream my name, noona.'

his offer actually didn't sound too bad. juyeon might just be more skilled than the rest of the men you had slept with, who knew. you didn't have anything better to do anyways so you might as well see if he can make you feel good.

'where do we go?' you finally asked after staying silent to keep a suspenseful silence. his eyes lit up and he grabbed your hand. he led you back inside, up the stairs and into the room on the far right.

you could see posters of football player, trophies and pictures. this was obviously his room.

you didn't have much time to look around as he locked the door and kissed you

you were surprised by just how not slimy it was. usually, the guys would always try to wet your whole face and you had to wipe your mouth every other second.

but he started off soft and placed his hands on your hips. you put your arms around his neck to get closer to him and deepen the kiss.

his hands started roaming your body and when he squeezed your ass, you let out a moan. juyeon took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your open mouth.

the kissing made you dizzy and you desperately tugged at him to get him closer to you. he picked you up and held you up against the wall. you let your hands wander under his shirt and started tracing his abs while grinding your core against him. you could feel his dick harden with your movements.

juyeon carried you to the bed and slowly let you down so you laid on your back. while he quickly took off his shirt you tried to catch your breath after the intense make out. you didn't have long to admire his muscular upper body before he lifted the dress so you were only there in your underwear.

he startes placing open mouth kiss from your collar bones, to your boobs, to your stomach until he reached the hem of your panties. he made sure to keep eye contact as he put the fabric between his teeth and slowly pulled them down like this. you felt cold air hitting your core.

'so pretty, noona,' he admired your clearly dripping pussy. he dragged one finger over your lips to see just how wet you were.

'I haven't even touched you yet but you are already so wet for me. I told you I'd make you feel good. I'll show you just how much, noona.' and with that he dove right in between your lips to prove his point. the feeling of his tongue fucking you was unfamiliar. no guy had ever even cared to get you wet and pleasure you before actually having sex.

Juyeon was desperately devouring your juices as if he hadn't drunk for ages. additionally he started massaging your clit with his thumb, knowing exactly what a woman likes. he had to hold down your hips to keep you stable because you were trying to buck up into his face as it felt so good. every time his nose came into contact with your clit while licking you felt like you were losing control.

involuntary moans were spilling out of your mouth and you could feel juyeon smirking against your core.

suddenly, he slipped a finger inside you and started slowly pumping it in and out of you. it felt a bit uncomfortable at first but you got used to it quite quickly and when he noticed, he slipped a second finger inside. damn, those were some long ass fingers.

your pussy made squelching sounds which you couldn't care less about in the moment as he rapidly fucked you with his long digits. you were pulling at his hair as he took your bud between his teeth, alternating between softly biting and sucking on it.

you suddenly couldn't take it anymore and your orgasm washed over your body like a wave and juyeon slowly continued until you had fully come down from your high.

he sat up straight again. 'I promised I could make you feel good, didn't I? god, you look so hot when you come, noona.' fuck, where did he learn to do all this? maybe he was right after all.

you noticed that his nose was coated in your juices but he didn't seem to care at all. 'do you want to continue?'

'only if you can make me come again,' you challenged him.

he scoffed. 'that's not even a question, noona.'

he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. the shape of his bulge was clearly visible through his underwear. you reached inside and whipped out his already hard dick. you gulped.

'it's so big,' you whispered afraid. he was bigger than the other guys you had slept with and if they had already hurt you then his cock would probably hurt even worse.

he stroked your hair out of your face. 'don't worry. I've already prepared well so you should be able to take it without a problem. I'll make sure to go slow to not hurt you, okay?' you needed to trust him. it seemed like he actually knew what he was doing.

you gave his dick a couple of strokes to see how he reacted before you wrapped your lips around his leaking tip. seeing juyeon throw his head back gave you the encouragement you desperately needed to go forward.

you took him all the way until you started gagging. this was something you were good at. you started deep throating him and he moaned out your name.

'fuck, noona. you are so good with my cock.' he brushed your hair to the side so you it wouldn't be in the way when you sucked him off.

you noticed that he tried to control himself but couldn't refrain himself from bucking up his hips a few times, making you gag.

he then stopped you. 'I can't come yet. I need to show you how proper sex is done first.'

you laid down on your back and he positioned himself between your legs. he pressed your arms down next to your head and intertwined his fingers with yours.

'are you ready?' you gave him a nod.

'just squeeze my hand if it hurts.'

he slowly pushed his tip inside. you shut your eyes tightly and juyeon stopped to give you time.

'no, no. go all the way in first,' you whined.

his dick filled your walls up to the brim. you tried to calm down your heavy breathing. you squeezed his hands in pain and he held still. juyeon placed a kiss on your mouth.

'you're doing so well, noona.', he praised you. 'just tell me when you feel ready to go.'

it did hurt but not quite as much as the other times. and no one had ever waited for you to actually adjust before beginning to pound into you.

juyeon distracted you with kisses and as you started getting more comfortable you slowly started moving your hips against him. you gave him a slight nod to tell him he could continue.

he still started off with a moderate tempo and you needed more.

'faster!' you urged him and he picked up the pace. the way he snapped his hips made you see stars.

the pain was now completely gone and you were lost in your own pleasure.

when he started  thrusting into you from behind, he hit spots inside you you had never felt before. the new position allowed him to go even deeper and faster than before.

you moaned surprised as he spanked you.

'you like this, noona?' you could only groan out his name to show him how you felt.

the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter.

'I think I'm coming!' you manage to get out.

'come for me, noona!' with that he went into overdrive and fucked into you like a machine.

your arms gave in as your walls clenched around his huge cock tightly and you came hard while screaming his name.

he rode out your orgasm and then pulled out. he stroke his dick fast and shot his big load on your butt and back.

he lay down next to you exhausted. his fingers wiped away the tears of pleasure you didn't know you had cried.

'did I make you feel good, noona?' 'more than just good,' you admitted satisfied.

'I guess guys my age just don't know how to treat me.' he hummed in agreement.

'that makes no sense. you are absolutely gorgeous. they missed out on the opportunity to see your beautiful face when you come.' this was weird. he was still nice to you even after he already came. what was this?

'thank you for making my birthday wish come true,' he said. 'huh, what do you mean?' you questioned him.

'actually, I've noticed you on campus before but I was always too shy to talk to you.' 'oh really?' you laughed sceptically.

'yeah, I wanted to ask you on a date first but it seems like we skipped a couple of steps.' he was blushing. gosh, he was kind of adorable.

'I mean we could still go on those dates if you'd like, birthday boy.' strangely enough you felt like you could trust him and kind of wanted to get to know juyeon as a person.

'awesome,' he smiled at you before he pecked your lips and went to clean you both up.

you had completely forgotten about siyeon. hopefully, her night had been just as satisfying as yours had been.

[sepublic]

Why did Odalia allow Emira and Edric in Illusions?

I’ve seen people wonder how Emira and Edric are in Illusions if they seem to be looked down upon, especially with a parent like Odalia expecting the best of her kids! To dabble into some potential explanations;

For starters, illusions might not be looked down upon to begin with? Bria, Angmar, and Gavin give me major jock vibes, what with the physicality of their magic, bullying the smaller Gus and Mattholomule, and seeing the Galdorstones as a litmus test for ‘real’ magic.

Given their immature tendencies, it’s possible that they’ve made an easy and shallow mistake of reducing the value of magic down to its physical strength, instead of the wider applications- Which fits young and overconfident kids from Glandus, which evidently had some toxic ideas.

This could be a shallow Glandus perception that doesn’t grasp the full extent and potential of magic beyond just physically smashing and fighting in a straightforward manner, which might just add to the school’s rivalry with Hexside; But I digress...

The thing about Odalia is that she’s definitely underhanded and a cheater herself- So it makes sense of her to approve of ‘lesser’ tactics anyway, because she might see herself as Lilith, having to use whatever it takes to win. Doesn’t matter if it’s honest or has integrity, Odalia never cared about that... So she wouldn’t be approaching Illusions with the sort of dismissive bias of jocks.

After all, Oracle magic doesn’t seem to be entirely physical- It is to an extent, hence why Selene is able to fight Willow for at least a few seconds... But otherwise, Oracle magic seems to focused on more intangible things. It’d be hypocritical of Odalia to embrace Oracle magic but then judge Illusions, but then again she’s no stranger to hypocrisy either.

Maybe she’s tried to vicariously place her kids in ‘real’ magic tracks and only succeeded in Amity... But again, Illusions might not actually be looked down upon, at least on a societal level. There might be some bias amongst covens who think their magic is superior to that of another, but Belos designated Illusions as one of his nine major covens for a reason- And he is definitely a ruthless pragmatist with a utilitarian view of magic.

After all, Boscha mocks Willow’s choice of Plants despite her friend Amelia being there, and Angmar is played off as supposedly better than Gus for it! Granted Plants might be considered lame, while Illusions are even lamer... Bria and her friends evidently weren’t so popular themselves at first;

But regardless, it seems that it could just be a case of kids being hypocritically biased and insulting someone’s choice of magic if it isn’t the same as their own, especially since Potions could easily be seen as weaker than Plants! But maybe it’s just a matter of class, with Potions evidently being an industry that rakes in a lot of snails, so who knows?

Boscha probably doesn’t have a place to speak, and amongst narrow-minded kids, some assumptions might take place, but once you’re an adult... You cool down and can see the importance of these things. And as a seasoned and successful entrepreneur, Odalia is someone always looking for an opportunity to use someone or something;

As an adult with actual real-world experience, Odalia is able to recognize the value of illusions... And, as a gaslighter and manipulator herself, who uses Oracle magic to literally get into people’s heads, and she’d definitely appreciate the mind games and trickery of illusions.

If anything, Odalia might see physical magic as more demeaning and to be offloaded to the lesser workers, to people whose hands are meant to be dirty (with Alador as an exception), while a prim and proper, higher-class person such as herself needn’t bother with labor-associated magic! If there is some bias towards some forms of magic as lofty and for prissy blue bloods, Odalia might just be an example of that.

Plus, illusions could help her business! Amity is clearly set up as the next Alador, as the mindless worker who puts together and innovates with Abominations... With the twins welcoming people into the expo, while Amity physically participates, and it’s likely that Emira and Edric are set up to be the social factor of the business!

They’re meant to be like Odalia, as the managers who organize people, who broker deals and appeal to customers! And illusions would be perfect for presentations, Illusionists have a knack for showmanship as Gus said.

Illusions could be used to cover up the flaws of Blight Industries’ products while embellishing them. It’s implied that Alador’s creations aren’t always as good as they claim to be... Possibly as a result of cutting costs, because this guy CAN make some effective products, but unless Odalia wants him to compensate with an Abomaton 2.0 after the first failed, she otherwise prefers quantity over quality.

So yeah, a deal broker and social butterfly who attends these kinds of gatherings, makes business alliances and appeals to people- Odalia would definitely approve of illusions, even beyond her own treatment of her kids! For all we know she insisted upon it from the get-go, and luckily for Emira and Edric, illusions worked out for them as their personal calling.

Who knows, maybe Odalia wanted to be in another magic track, only for her actual talents to speak for themselves- She proved best at Oracle magic and was placed in it anyway, despite her attempts for other tracks she wasn’t as naturally talented in. It could be a similar case for the twins, who already like to rebel- And Bump could’ve made a case for them to be in Illusions too! Though we know Odalia can threaten Bump to get her way...

But in the end it doesn’t matter, because I think it’s fully in Odalia’s character to appreciate a more subtle approach, especially if she likes to manipulate and use underhanded tactics to compensate for a lack of ‘genuine’ power. If she has the same biases against non-physical magic, she could be just like Lilith, accepting her need to use lowly means to keep up with more honest witches anyway.

And given how Belos’s system makes people compete, it’s possible that EVERY coven thinks the others are weaker in some capacity- Every coven thinks one of the other eight is weak and ‘worthless’, because of bias and arrogance. A bard might dismiss a construction worker as a menial labor brute, while a beast keeper might mock a potion-maker for relying on bottles and elixirs, instead of controlling powerful demons!

This type of elitism ingrained into society, resulting in bullies and competition, possibly some people trying to make peace with covens they didn’t truly want to join through and inflated sense of superiority... These seem in-character for the coven system, and how bullies like Boscha exist, while people like Kikimora and even Lilith feel the need to betray, backstab, and cheat to win.

It’s all a toxic system... And at the very least, to get back to the original point- I think it makes sense for Odalia to approve of illusions, or at least tolerate them enough to live with it, especially when you already have rebellious twins who are willing to stand up to their parents and can’t be threatened to stand down the way Amity initially was.

Emira and Edric might’ve chosen it for themselves, and it was something Odalia knew they’d insist upon to Bump, no matter how hard she tried- So it was out of her control, and Alador might’ve convinced Odalia to let them be. He recognizes the value of letting his kids be independent, because it adds to their strength and ‘usefulness’.

As a long-term thinker not blinded in the moment by personal pride and need for control like Odalia, Al very well could’ve explained to her how illusions can work; Again, what I said about presentations and advertisement. Alador could’ve spoken to Odalia and gotten her to calm down, reasoning why illusions could be better in the long run, because they need another Odalia to run the company after her.

As for who will work Abominations, it only takes one witch as Alador himself as proven, and they’ve got another daughter who is much more under their thumb and easy to control. Let Amity take that burden, they can make her do whatever they want, unlike the twins... And again, that pressure to make up for the roles the twins had forsaken, and live up to her father’s genius, would just add to Amity’s need to be perfect.

Granted, Alador and Odalia expected Amity to join the Emperor’s Coven until only recently, which doesn’t seem like a position she could reconcile while working with Blight Industries. But maybe Alador intended to keep working, and use Amity as a means to secure an alliance with the Emperor’s Coven that has Blight Industries set, no longer needing to innovate, just replicate his work... In which case, be careful what you wish for!

Plus, if it’s Alador who suggested the use of the twins in illusions, maybe it was always more his idea to have his kids split between different roles to continue the company on their own, while Odalia had looked to the more ambitious option of a deal with the Emperor’s Coven, military-industrial complex style, to secure their futures.

[jiminrings]

i think stem!koo would compare himself with the other guy and start questioning if that’s more oc’s type and if he’s just the outlier. maybe even tries mimicking the other guy to see oc’s reaction… like if oc was talking to hobi and guk saw and then when they meet up a few day later oc’s like???? why are you blonde?

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

besides hoseok having the divine ability to throw pretty cool parties, it turns out he’s actually pretty cool too — too bad jungkook doesn’t know how to handle his jealousy at all.

“would you hate me?”

there’s no morning like today, really

no morning like today because all three of you woke up before 10 am

setting alarms when there are no classes is the equivalent of setting yourself up and you will not subject yourself to that!! — you wake up at like 12 pm max

yoongi would typically wake up at 4 in the morning, groggily realize that it’s iNDEED 4 in the morning, and go back to sleep — he wakes up seven hours later <3

jin’s sleeping pattern (or as what he calls un-blinking hours) fluctuates so oftenly and is therefore non-existent — he wakes up only when you wake him up!!

the three of you just started coming out of your rooms one-by-one and were in a daze looking at each other :|

no morning like today because now that the three of you woke up practically at the same exact time for an unknown reason, you asked if you can have jungkook come over for breakfast and they agreed

“do you guys mind if i invite jungkook for breakfast?”

“nah. go ahead.”

“it’s alright i understand i-?? what did you just say?”

jungkook also feels like there’s definitely something in the air this morning and it’s not weed lol

jin greeted him and yoongi nodded at him??? it felt as weird yet gratifying as a nickelodeon show crossover

all of you are immersed in casual and playful chatter in a somehow haze!! seokjin’s on autopilot preparing four (!!) bowls and yoongi’s getting the family (!!) cutlery instead of the disposable visitor ones

which is why the moment you ask a seemingly-loaded question, everyone just immediately snappeD out of it and was brought back to reality

“would you hate me?”

“never.” (jungkook fervently shakes his head no that his neck felt like it was unscrewed at one point)

“i would gaslight everyone and everything for you.” (yoongi snickers with his hands across his chest, actually thinking that he could also gaslight anything for you even if it’s an inanimate object)

“depends.” (jin carelessly shrugs as he tries to convince himself that you wouldn’t commit arson to his dream shared house with you and yoongi)

...

well they really didn’t let you finish ://

“thank you, but i didn’t mean it that way,” you snicker in thought at each of their answers, giving jungkook a grateful pat on his knee

yoongi almost scowls at that but he, along with jin, catches your incessant gaze

oh the question is meant for the two of them???

“would you hate me if i convince the two of you to split with me the cost of a canvas painting?”

a what

since wHEN are you into canvas paintings???

the two of them have their mouths slightly ajar and even jungkook’s joining in because even if he’s nOt included in this conversation, he’s also surprised???

“like an old abstract painting?” jin grimaces and therefore breaks the silence, blindly folding in his fluffy pancake mix to look at your reaction

“god, no,” you shudder already at the thought of an old painting with asbestos you can’t gauge the meaning of being hung at the large empty wall, “it’s for our dorm.”

.... oh?

they aren’t really against chipping in for an item that only yOU would benefit from, but it’s kinda exciting to think that all three of you are involved

“how big is this painting that you’re talking about?”

yoongi asks in deep thought, already thinking about nails and screws (which probably aren’t allowed) and the backup heavy-duty mounting tape

he’s curious already!!!! screw him!!!

“really?” your eyes considerably widen, looking at the teo of them, both shrugging at each other and that’s already your seal of approval!!! see!! you didn’t even have to plead :D

“A1 — that’s what the guy said. i found him on instagram!!”

yoongi narrows his eyes at you unironically, tch-ing at what you just said

“i don’t speak in barbecue sauce, y/n.”

.,.,.,...,. pls

jin snorts extra loudly because yoongi’s completely serious and not kidding at all when he only knows A1 as a goddamn brand of sauce instead of an actual measurement

“A1 means 23x33 inches in sizing, dumbass.”

the guy at the receiving end of chuckles only nods with newfound knowledge, already mapping it out

“what’s it about? i-i can chip in too if you’d like!!”

jungkook interjects sincerely, raising his hand out of classroom habit to which he sheepishly brings down

“it’s okay, koo. you don’t need to,” you reply back sincerely and effectively shut out the egging that yoongi and jin are giving him, something along the lines of “hey jungkook!! what if you pay for it whole, hm? you can come over for breakfast next time if you do.”

jungkook was really about to steal your phone and enter his card information in a sECOND if only you didn’t stop him

“the painting is to die for, y’know?” you hype it up as much as you could, holding jungkook’s hands in place so he can stop reaching for his wallet

:D

“it’s a painting of a sheep on a field, with the mountains behind it, that says atleast we’re under the same sky!!”

it’s pretty much safe to say that jin and yoongs were ready to lay down their money right then and there

neither of you can put a finger on it but it just tOUCHES your heart!! it’s a piece that pops up in your mind every now and then and feels like a fond memory while at it

“...and sent! quick too — he already gave me the payment confirmation.”

that’s nice!! not even five minutes after you sent your proof of payment and he already acknowledged it

the fact that it’s already paid for now aND is probably gonna get delivered within a matter of days is exciting, really

“i think i’d toss and turn in bed until that painting arrives,” yoongi yawns in admission, going into town with the powdered sugar on his pancakes that you physically had to stop him

“i’d save that painting first when there’s a fire,” jin snickers but it’s not that well-received, getting a pointed glare in return from yoongi, “fine. i’ll save y/n first and then the painting.”

this is your happy place :-)

your three favorite boys in the whole entire world in the sAME room!! and they’re not arguing!! there’s now dwelling in the past!!

just mediocre tolerance from yoongi and jin’s side, then half-giddiness and half-nervousness from jungkook’s side

“when it arrives, i’ll take a picture of the three of you and get it printed!”

kook offers and it earns him a ruffle on his hair, surprisingly from jin, that makes him almost chOke on the most delicious pancakes he’s ever tasted

“thank you, koo.”

jungkook’s getting used to this, actually

normally he’d expect a kiss on his cheek for his wonderful offer!! or maybe a hand on his thigh!! but he’s slowly starting to realize that you’re not always a physically affectionate lover

he’s admittedly the clingier out of the two of you but it’s okay!! right!!!!!!! it is :D

he’s sitting beside you right now on the couch anyway!! he’ll take that

yoongi, however, will nOT take it because that’s his spot and jungkook’s taking it away from him >:( he’s only noticed now out of the twenty minutes the four of you have been sitting here

he’s sneakily scraping off the powdered sugar from his pancakes and to the edge of his plate, ready to spill it on jungkook so he’d have an excuse of pushing him to the bathroom and take his spot beside you

just one more scrape and-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKKKKKKKKKKKK-!!!!!!

literally everyone jolts with the abrupt knocking on your door and it even panics you a little

“w-who’s that?” jungkook fidgets on his seat and raises his feet on the cushions (no one can scold him bc everyone is also preoccupied) and his hand grips on your forearm out of instinct

“are you expecting anyone?” you ask jin because this may just be namjoon who’s rushing to get inside because students might see him

“no one,” he shakes his head and turns to yoongi, “this yours?”

yoongi shakes his head, his hand still clutching at his chest, “didn’t even order anything online these past two weeks.”

this is okay!! robbers don’t knock on the door, right? :-)

you make the initiative to stand up but you get tugged almost immediately by the three of them, shrugging them off as calmly as you could

“i’ll just see, alright?”

you peep on the keyhole and you relax immediately, just seeing a delivery guy with a huge package

you open the door and jungkook sputters of why the hell you would, about to skid towards you when-

“hoseok?”

is that-

is that jung hoseok??

jung hoseok as in your junior, the one who’s notoriously known for throwing the coolest parties ever?? to which he gets even the seal of approval from his seniors??

the same hoseok who threw the party wherein jungkook was ditched by jimin and you needed to walk him home? the one who threw the party wherein tae slipped outside and you needed to take him to the hospital??

tHAT hoseok????

he’s kinda cool for all of that actually

“Y/N???”

he’s just as surprised as you are, mouth actually dropping agape

the both of you are so surprised that neither of you seem to acknowledge the mammoth of a package that he’s holding

...

....

“oh my god, you’re the one who ordered my painting!!!”

hoseok actually leaps to hug you and it’s a miracle that you’re not knocked over with his sheer force, giddily jumping up and down as if embracing you is not enough

he pulls off before you could even poke at him, instead holding you by your shoulders and jostling you lightly now

jungkook’s watching the whole thing unfold and he’s still quite stuck on the couch, head tilting in confusion

why.... is hoseok.... hugging you.....

why........ are you letting him..... hug you

“oh my god!!! you’re the one!!!!! i-i thought no one would buy from me because i’m a small business and i don’t have a lot of works right now and my style is different but — yoongi!!!!”

hoseok attaches to yoongi next and the older guy just chuckles, patting him on the back

they’re not really close and no one really hugs their senior like that, most especially yoongi, but here they are

“let me guess, you’re one of the three who bought it, right?? y/n messaged me saying that she has two friends chipping in and asked me that if i could, add in some freebies!! and i did!!!”

man,, hoseok is quick

“we didn’t know you’re the one who made it,” you admit which gets a lot of nodding from both parties

“i didn’t know either that you guys were the one who bought it!” hoseok exclaims and turns his head to jin, “mr. kim!!! thank you so much!! you complete the trio, right?”

you and yoongi are bAFFLED at hoseok hugging seokjin, or rather mr. kim, aka an official of student affairs

what’s even more baffling is that jin doesn’t look surprised at all

“you two — i- uhm? i don’t-...”

“... hoseok’s my plug. our plug, actually.”

:O

hoseok doesn’t even look the least bit fazed, even nodding and laughing as he raises his hand

“i’m a business major!!”

ok wait maybe that does explain everything

jungkook’s so lost looking at the scene in front of him and frankly, he doesn’t know if he’s still included at this point

he’s frazzled when hoseok’s eyes slightly widen at the sight of him but later grin at him, looking back at you to wiggle his eyebrows

“and jungkook, is a stem major.”

it seems like no one but jungkook is surprised at hoseok’s sudden barging presence in the dorm

no one is batting an eye when he invites himself to stay and plop on the couch

“here, you can have mine.”

jungkook helplessly looks at you when you offer yOUR plate (that has one whole pancake left) to hoseok and leave him be

no one’s questioning him because after all, the three of you are busy unwrapping the package while he continues to explain

“what was i saying again? oh right!! i panicked when i saw the money transferred to my account because even if we were chatting, at first i was a littlE hesitant because like, bogus buyers amirite??” he speaks through a mouthful of pancakes, “and then you paid!! and i saw the address and tHEN i was really excited and like panicked? i didn’t want to get it shipped when you’re this near because that’s expensive!! and i wanted to thank the three of you personally!!”

“— which is why i sprinted all the way here!!”

that explains hoseok’s breathless and sweaty state, the whole tale of him bumping into the dean at one point and almost stomping on a pigeon making everyone entertained

everyone besides jungkook.

is it just him or is everyone’s eye twitching right now

is this his dorm? no. but does he feel like hoseok’s intruding, regardless if he lives in here or in the perspective of a fellow visitor? yes.

apparently, nONE out of the three of you seem to think so

because it’s all so good!! hoseok probably lives in your dorm too because why else would you give up your breakfast for him??

the three of you are actively fawning over the painting and jungkook’s just sO sure that it’s giving hoseok the biggest ego boost of his life ://

they just share a class or two, they aren’t really close anyways

hoseok’s the type to be intimidating and popular at the same time but surprisingly, he’s friendly in a way

ok maybe jungkook’s just getting a little over in his head rn

if he leaves, then it’s also hoseok’s time to leave!!!

he’s already practicing the words in his head

“come on hoseok, they’re the furthest thing away from being done at fawning. let’s walk together back to the dorms.”

he’s about to say it when-

“anyone have a headband i can borrow?”

hoseok asks aloud and effectively catches everyone’s attention, making you stand up in agreement

what the fuck is actually happening

jungkook watches you hand one of the headbands you wear during your games to hoseok, a guy you barely know, like it’s no big deal?????

that headband smells like your hair!!! the hair that he loves to bury his nose into and plays with!!!

that’s yours and you’re giving it to hIM?

jungkook’s stomach actually drops even if he just finished eating minutes ago, ina daze looking at hoseok putting it on his blonde hair

he doesn’t know what’s stemming from his heart nor what his tummy’s telling him, but jungkook doesn’t like it at all.

“i’m going home,” kook murmurs behind you who’s instructing yoongi and jin to level the painting some more, snaking his arm around your waist

“really? oh, okay. text me when you get home.”

you only sweetly smile at him and jungkook’s actually awaiting the offer of you walking him home, but it doesn’t come

that’s okay!

“bye. love you.”

he softly says yet it’s enough for everyone to hear, his hand still secured snugly on your waist

jungkook’s about to go for a kiss on your cheek because he’s sURE that both yoongi and jin would scowl at him if he took it any further, but he catches hoseok at the corner of his eye and it’s all out the door

he unexpectedly presses a chaste kiss on your lips and playfully drags out the mwah! at the end, much to the daggers your friends send him

that’s enough!! hoseok already saw — you’re taken by him. jungkook doesn’t need to worry now that hoseok knows :)

...

....

...... he may have spoken too soon

he’s already established that you’re taken by him, that’s great! even hoseok teases him when they see each other the next day

was that an ego boost? yes

what wasn’t an ego boost is seeing hoseok talking to him and parading the halls with your headband on!!

that’s yOUR headband!!! not his!!! what happened to merely borrowing it?

did he just happen to steal it from you, or did you just let him steal it from you?

:(

jungkook positively thinks that’s the end of this whole heart-clenching

hoseok has your headband but jungkook has you. it’s clear who’s actually winning in life

but god is jungkook wrong again

he texted you in the same morning on what you were doing since you had your classes cancelled for today with no professors coming in

going to brunch with hobi instead of sleeping all day. jin’s in the office and yoongi’s out on grocery duty. have fun w your classes :)

Hobi???

Uhm I literally just passed him in the halls two minutes ago

really? lmao that means he’s skipping class then

no because hold on

hoseok’s sKIPPING class to go to brunch with you?

you’re going to brunch with him???

HOBI?????

jungkook uncomfortably tucks his phone back into his pocket as class starts, chewing at his bottom lip

do you want him to skip classes so he could go to brunch with you?

better yet, is hoseok better than him because it’s no problem for him to skip classes??

now that he thinks about it, jungkook hasn't skipped even a single day of classes ever since freshman year

he used to take pride on his attendance but now he uh kinda wants a blank mark on his card actually

he could go to lengths of skipping classes if you asked him to!! he can!! of course he'll do that for you

but you don't ask him to and it's obvious that you only learned now how hoseok's able to meet you in the first place, but the reason behind it didn't seem to faze you

in fact, it looks like you're even amused

jungkook has to physically shake his head to get rid of his thoughts but that doesn't do anything

he's still thinking about you and hoseok during class.

he's trying not to dwell on it but it's difficult when he's always reminded of it

every time he comes over, the painting is GLARING at him and that's the reason jungkook just keeps his eyes on you for literally the whole time that he's there

your phone sometimes dings and it's a tiktok notification of hoseok sending you one

everything he does, hoseok and his outrageously blonde hair just seems to follow him

you had cat fur on the sleeve of your hoodie because you pet the campus cat awhile ago and jungkook was about to shriek because even that reminded him of the guy

all he's done this week is become bothered and frustrated to the point that even jimin, oftenly the most clueless and easy-going guy in the room, noticed it

"trouble in paradise?"

jimin's cool voice is the first thing that snaps him out of his anti-hoseok tirade in his mind, his eyes landing on his roommate lazily

it's actually jimin's red hair that makes jungkook look twice because when he saw him in the morning, he was still blonde

....,.,. blonde....?

"jimin?"

"hmm? am i right? is it rEALLY trouble in-"

"remember that time you ditched me in hoseok's party? or that time i made your paper because you forgot and you were hung-over and then you ended up getting an A?"

jimin's head tilts at jungkook's enumeration, blinking owlishly at him

".... yeah?"

"good," jungkook nods in acknwoledgement at jimin's recall, "because i think i'm gonna cash in the favors that you owe me."

:O

it's pouring

it hasn't rained in so long and it's raining sO hard that you might have to look for a candle later on

it was on the news anyway that it was gonna rain this hard but no one really expected that it'd be this hard!!

nonetheless, jungkook soothed your worries and said he'd come over because the two of you haven't seen each other in like three days

maybe it's just you but something feels off with jungkook

oddly, he's gotten a little bit more attached to you yet weirdly distant at the same time

for some reason, he asks a lot more questions too

just yesterday, he sent you a screenshot of a white polo, asked if it looked good, and proceeded to immediately purchase it once you said it looked nice

just because you don't frequently comment on what you notice, doesn't exactly mEAN you don't care about it

jungkook's a big boy!! an adult!! if he wants to say something to you, then he says it

he always has the words in his head, that much you know

but yOU, however.,.,.,

you really don't have the words right now

because as soon as you open the door, your eyes land on your boyfriend

your boyfriend in his usual hoodie who's been growing out his hair and is looking very much blonde and different

“you’re blonde?”

you rhetorically ask in shock and you're clueless to the fact that you look like a fish out of water, your hands unconsciously darting out to his chest

“hmm, you like it?”

jungkook hums and tries to keep the giddiness he feels at bay just seeing you look gobsmacked, your hands moving from his collarbones to his neck and finally, to his hair

you offer no answer because you find yourself kissing jungkook before you could even let him in and close the door

he mewls in satisfaction when you kiss him deeper and cup his cheeks, his hands finding no hesitance in pushing your bodies closer by the waist

"my handsome boy," you mumble at one point in the kiss, eternally grateful that the two of you are the only one in the dorm right now

jungkook preens at your attention, mumbling to your lips before he makes the move to kiss you determinedly

“you like me better than hoseok?”

in a single second, he doesn't feel you kissing back at all

he's so confused as he pulls away, dark brows, in contrast to his blonde hair, knitted in confusion

“quit it.”

there's no actual edge to your tone but you feel like it, an incoming realization starting to dawn on you

jungkook's oblivious to your boiling irritation, clueless to how the dots are connecting in your mind and how you're not sure on how to tackle them

“what did i do? i was just asking you if you like me better than him.”

he says nonchalantly and it's the tone that irks you — as if his seemingly harmless question didn't reveal what he really wanted to get at

“i’m with you, jungkook. has that not been established enough yet?”

your voice is still calm yet you trudge away from him, your boyfriend quick on his heels to trail behind you

“i mean you did kiss me on the mouth just now,” jungkook points out as if you weren't aware. “because i’m blonde just like hoseok.”

“oh my god."

it was just a strong hunch at first but hearing it first-hand from jungkook accelerates your sentiment for what he did even faster, your eyes rolling to the back of your head that rubs him the wrong way

he runs his hand through his hair out of habit, reminding you even more that it's bleached and blonde yet for all the wrong intentions

“is asking you so wrong? why are you getting defensive?”

you snicker at his inquiry, hands across your chest that just challenges him to do the same

“what’s wrong is that you dyed your hair blonde for no other reason besides the fact that hoseok is!”

now that jungkook hears it from you, his eyes narrow

“can’t i just be inspired?” he snaps, “can’t i be inspired to look this way because you look at him in that way?”

what?

wHAT????

“what way, jungkook?”

seemingly caught in a blindspot, he tries to backtrack

“i-i’m not-“

you're having none of it and to be honest, you're not even sure if it just pure anger that you're feeling at the moment

“you spent hours in a salon, is that it?" you prod him and that makes jungkook avoid your eyes, huffing under his breath, "got jimin to help you out?" that actually hits a nerve on him and makes his eyes zero in on you with much annoyance, "what did you go through just because you’re so inspired?”

“you look at hoseok like you’re in love with him!”

“i’m not in love with hoseok, jungkook!" you articulate every word but even that seems to anger jungkook further, "why would you even think of that?”

“because you’re only supposed to look at me that way. y-you’re not supposed to go to brunch with a guy alone when you just met him. you’re not supposed to lend him your headbands when he can just buy them! you’re not supposed to do the things you’d do with me with other guys!”

“he’s my friend. just like yoongi and jin are. i can do these things with them but that doesn’t mean i love you any less.”

jungkook rolls his eyes and even your profession of love doesn't budge him at all

“there you are with your guy friends again.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you feel him treading to dangerous territory but you stand your ground regardless, your voice shaking when you add

“yoongi and jin came into my life way before you did, jungkook.”

it was to simply remind him but he feels as if it's out of spite, looking at you pointedly before patronizingly chuckling

“i know. i can never win with you, that’s it, right? just because you’re older than me by a year and you have friends that want to beat me up — you always win!”

his voice raises by the end of his sentence and it's his words that make you grind your teeth together and your nostrils flare, lip dangerously close to trembling

“i’m sorry if i’m jealous and i don’t know what to do because this is the first time i’ve become a boyfriend, alright?"

jungkook throws his head back and gestures to you, shaking his head while he's so close to crying because of his pent-up insecurity

“i’m sorry that i don’t know what to do and you always do because you probably had like ten boyfriends before me, right?? i’m so inexperienced and new to you that you can’t even stand me and-“

..

there's pin-drop silence in the room.

jungkook only realizes his words belatedly and the weight that they carry, eyes in a stand-still on you who looks the furthest thing from being appeased at him

you're actually hurt.

“how dare you, jungkook.”

your fists are balled to the point that the tips of your fingers feel numb from the pause in circulation, but oddly enough, jungkook feels the most remorseful when he sees your figure deflate and therefore relax

“don’t come home, it’s pouring. or go back to your dorm, whatever. i don’t care.”

he's planted by his feet but he realizes to move when you're walking out of your own dorm, prying away his hand from your elbow

“you can sleep in my room. i’m sleeping out tonight.”

.

.

.

part two

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[elsewhereuniversity]

Look I'm not saying I have a *plan* for the crazed sewing kit per se but I *am* saying that for some godforsaken reason this year I'm head of the theatre costumes crew. and the makeup crew. and the house crew. Last week I glued a fake nose to a distraught actor's face while helping my ticket person count stubs *and* stapled one of the usher's broken clip-on to their collar during an already frantic costume change. So I'm probably crazed enough to not notice more and I could USE the damn thing

You know what? It’s yours. For better or for worse! (And from the offer, I think it could go either way). I will of course start gathering a new one, and I wish you the dubious joy of this one. Take with my blessing (hidden below cut because the kit grew wildly):

A silver thimble that fluctuates wildly in temperature, and can protect you from small injuries from anything short of a sword. Almost certainly has some other, more subtle effects, which are up to you to discover.

Absolutely vile shears made of giant’s toenails; despite my personal disdain for them, they are razor-sharp, and keep to the line you mean to cut as if magnetized.

Heirloom scissors that whisper inanities

Fabric scissors from a tailor of the Spring Court, most notable for the ease with which they cut silk, but which also seem to be able to slice through a variety of other metaphysical and metaphorical things.

A needle threader: unbendable, unbreakable, and which never misses - although its eye is a miniature portal to another place entirely, which can be unsettling to the unaware.

A needle that both threads and unthreads itself, seemingly at will and at random. It remains to be seen if the above threader is able to mitigate this.

A set of needles that cannot pierce flesh, yet pass through all mortal cloth with ease (no guarantees for stranger stuff such as cloth-of-moonlight).

A golden needle and golden thread, a perfectly matched set that should stay together at all costs. The needle will always bear the perfect length of thread for hand-stitching; although the thread is taken from the spool, it is not through any means one can see.

A needle that will only allow itself to be threaded with human hair, at which point it gets ‘enthusiastic’.

A needle of uncertain purpose and effect: in the hands of a new owner it is prethreaded with an undiminishing length of periwinkle-lime-fuchsia thread. However, it appears that upon drawing first blood, it immediately begins to turn every project into dire warnings embroidered in rust-red calligraphic font, and this  seems to remain in effect until it is given up.

A spool of scarlet thread, vibrant with luck; looped and tied around another, they’ll be bound to you in more ways than one.

A spool of tendons, stolen from the body of the one sewing as they work. Replenished at the same time, to be fair, but it is nevertheless an unpleasant experience.

Several spools of colorless thread which pick up shades like the eyedropper tool. Unfortunately finite, but lovely.

Synchronizing nicely with the thread above, three skeins of yarn in exactly the color you want it to be as you use it.

A spool of thread that will not be cut by normal means; I have not had the chance to see how it measures up against the above shears, or the next item.

A seam ripper that can slice through any seam, up to an including those of the fabric of time itself, along with a thimble that protects from its vary particular blade. Particularly in the context of your job, this one will be interesting in your hands.

Three bolts of shimmering fabric: one of cloth-of-sunlight, one of cloth-of-starlight, and one of cloth-of-moonlight

A round, plain tin, full of buttons that will never fall off or unbutton themselves, although they are tacky beyond words, and several are coated with contact poison (I have taken the liberty of tucking these few apart. They melted the initial plastic bag, so now they are folded up in a bit of linen, which seems to be working nicely).

A small tin of bandaids of assorted sizes, which when stuck to fabric allow the damaged area below to knit itself back together like flesh, until it is whole and unharmed once more.

A pincushion in the shape of a mouse. Pins and needles left in its care will remain always sharp and clean, but be warned that the more pins it possessed, the more jealously it guards them, and at a certain saturation point it will demand recompense if you wish to borrow any at all.

A bobbin that is either the result of a failed attempt to make it neverending, or simply cursed out of spite to merely appear as such. Either way, you can’t trust your eyes: it will look for all the world like there is thread to spare and then some, even when it has been empty for hours.

A jar full of more beads than it should rightfully be able to hold, in colors that seem to vary depending on who is beholding them. There seem to be roughly a dozen colors, although it’s hard to pin down exactly. For my part they are the greys and greens you find around the necks of pigeons.

[hurricanes-art]

i am interested in your hades au, would you mind giving some details about it? 👁 it looks really interesting

[This AU is from these drawings!]

*cracks knuckles* Ok! I actually got enough sleep last night so I'm finally feeling up to explaining this au lmao

Also I hope that by “some details” you meant “way way too many” because I am nothing if not long winded. Also @hades-hellsite asked for context too, here you go

The central premise is that, after he dies, Achilles manages to make an arrangement with Hades that allows both him and Patroclus to stay in Elysium together. He's not employed to work at the house and he never becomes Zagreus's combat trainer.

Hades makes a few attempts to find Zagreus a different teacher among the shades of great warriors, but being skilled does not make someone able to teach. And being able to teach one way doesn't mean someone will be good for every student. When Zagreus doesn't learn well with the few mentors Hades tries, which he barely gives a chance to breathe anyway, he's quick to decide that he must have no martial ability and declares Zagreus a failure in that as he has about so many things.

This has two major effects on Zagreus before his escape attempts begin. One, without any chance to actually grow into aptitude in combat, he's left without anything substantial to put his energy into and, more importantly, he's left without anything he feels good at and that gives value to his efforts. Two is that, in Achilles' absence, very few people in the house give him any care and support untwisted by the politics of the house and the judgment of his father. There is Orpheus, kind to him before Hades locks him away for refusing to sing, Hypnos, willing to put the house to sleep so he can find the truth though jumbled up in his own problems, and Nyx.

Nyx is the only one to aid Zagreus when he decides to try to escape. She contacts Olympus and weaves careful lies to win their support and blesses his departure. She's also the only one who believes that Zagreus has the slightest chance of escaping. Already in canon, most everyone tells him there no way he'll make it out, but here, it's so much worse. He doesn't know how to fight, his initial attempts are pitiful and his progress negligible, and near everyone lashes out at him to get back in line and stop making things worse.

He doesn't even have the Infernal Arms. Achilles is the one who brings them to him in canon; here Zagreus takes a simple bronze sword from one of the house's many displays of weapons from wars long past. He thanks the Fates that the Styx restores it the same way it does his body when he dies because he nicks and dulls the edges every time.

Despite all the disadvantages, Zagreus throws himself into escaping with unshakable determination, bone deep stubbornness. He picks up his sword and will figure out how to use it himself. Experience will be his teacher. He dies over and over and he watches his enemies and learns how they move and how he must react, mimicking their attacks for his own use and adjusting and adjusting after each failure. And contrary to Hades' adamant belief, Zagreus is very intelligent and learns brilliantly when allowed to and he grows stronger and stronger.

There's no teacher more savage than experience in something like this, though. The pursuit is agonizing and the cost is enormous and adjusting to this ceaseless violence feels impossible.

Much of my interest in this idea is how the added strain on his circumstances and relationships affects Zagreus and his mental state. At his best, Zag looks a lot like he does in canon, with his laurels unfurled and vibrant, and his feet glowing hot, but he rarely feels his best here. His laurel leaves curl in dry and crisp, muted like the leaves of autumn. Flakes of ash and soot build up over his legs and encase more and more as he suffers. So deep is his feeling of failure and being trapped that it affects him physically.

Not always, though. His flames respond to his emotions, burn brighter in his passion. Enthusiasm, love, fervor, bliss, anger set him glowing.

After a brutally drawn out span of time, Zagreus meets Achilles and Patroclus in Elysium and tbh, the rest of my interest is really in how the altered circumstances change the evolution of their relationships with each other. The pair of warriors were never separated for an extended time and Achilles is less downtrodden and resigned and Patroclus is less bitter and abrasive when Zagreus stumbles upon them.

They don't fight him, which Zagreus counts among his greatest blessings, although Achilles still seems to have an interest. It makes him twitchy and he jumps when Achilles finally lifts his spear and swings it around in his third time in their little glade only to bump the flat of the blade against elbow and tell him to keep it in more towards his body. Zagreus blinks rapidly at him before adjusting his arm.

Achilles helps him here and there, tips and tricks and valuable advice, but he never gives anything near the thorough instruction he did in canon. On one hand, he doesn't need to. Zagreus is a self made fighter and it leaves him with weaknesses but it is also a powerful thing. He is unpredictable and incredibly adaptable and he only continues to improve.

On the other hand, there's no room for it. Achilles is gentle with his guidance, but Zagreus is rubbed raw by all the fighting he's done and all that still depends on it. He doesn't want to always focus on the weapon in his hands. Patroclus notices and curbs Achilles' input when it exceeds its bounds. He sits aside and observers carefully when they spar. Zagreus doesn't need another's direction which is fine by him, who's lost all desire for combat. He gives his aid through his assortment of trinkets that carry Zagreus further to the surface.

Zagreus barely knows what to do with himself in the face of their care. He's so unaccustomed to such generous and genuine support, interest devoid of expectation or blame. As familiarity between the three of them grows, their interactions grow warmer, more tender and comfortable. Their care lays on a foundation, not a hinge, and Zagreus grapples with understanding that he really can lean on it. It all leaves him so uncertain yet so desperate because he wants more than anything to have joy and conversation and company with others where he doesn't shoulder heavy guilt from unspoken accusations over his escaping the house and to have a place he feels he belongs without being an intrusion.

He does at first believe he's intruding, though. Intruding on their time together in the peace of Elysium. It takes them time to convince him that they value his presence immeasurably. The opportunity to stay together in the Underworld has been invaluable for Achilles and Patroclus, but the peace of Elysium is a deceptive thing. It wears away and prickles at them, pressing down in odd warping ways. Patroclus is beyond pleased to have the war behind him and that it can never force him to fight again, and despite Achilles retaining an interest in competition and combat, he does feel the same way. Having a cause though, something to believe in and worth devoting their efforts towards... They didn't realize how deeply they missed it until Zagreus. It is revitalizing. They thrive in his genuine, boundless kindness and long to support him.

The drawings of Orpheus arguing with Hades and Zagreus fighting with Nyx is from one of my plot point ideas. Later down the line, together, Hades, Persephone, and Nyx agree to forbid Zagreus from seeing Achilles and Patroclus at Nyx's behest. Similarly to how she talks about Dusa in canon, she sees mortal shades as beneath his station and that it's highly unbecoming for the prince to be consorting with them. Zagreus fights against the idea ferociously and is only smothered by the threat that, if he seeks them out anyway, Hades will void Achilles' agreement and have Patroclus moved to the proper plane of the Underworld.

It crushes Zagreus. He loves them and cares about them so much and being torn apart from them is a wound that cuts so deep. But even more than that, what breaks him open most, is the fact that it came from someone he cared for and trusted most. Nyx was the one person in the House he could depend on most and this betrayal at her hand is devastating. And for such a worthless reason as propriety and godly vanity. It's not her place to force those upon him. It hurts Zagreus to the core.

Orpheus is the only one willing to stick up for him in this, deeply empathetic to the grief of being separated from loved ones and well acquainted with the fact that such punishments will only damage, never correct. After all, his stint of punishment in Erebus didn't revive his desire to sing, it was Zagreus's dedication and vibrancy that did that. One of the many invaluable gifts Zagreus gave him, including reuniting him with Eurydice, making him happier than he'd been since her death. Orpheus can't keep biting his tongue when all these gods refuse to see any of this.

It all comes to a head dramatically and painfully and I've thought of a few variations on how it would play out. I'll leave it for now though, I might draw it or write it later >:3c  Also this got really long lol. Hopefully the idea is at least somewhat interesting!

And here, have the lines from these two drawings because I like the way they look

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

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(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

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I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

[love-sapphirerose]

Inuyasha: Why Falling in Love Caused Kikyo’s Powers to Weaken

Inuyasha's Kikyo is known for her powerful legacy and her tragic downfall, the latter of which may be tied to her occupation as a historical miko.

BY DIANE DARCY

Kikyo, the tragic miko (shrine maiden) of Inuyasha, is something of a legend within the story’s canon, leaving behind a powerful legacy even protagonist Kagome has trouble upholding. Along with being one of the more powerful miko who ever lived, Kikyo is especially remembered for her tragic downfall by falling in love with Inuyasha.

At first, it may seem strange that love would be the thing to destroy Kikyo, especially considering the same didn't happen to Kagome. But there's really no comparison for one simple but significant reason: Kikyo is a historical miko and Kagome is not. While Kagome may have inherited Kikyo’s spiritual powers and kyūdō skills as her reincarnation, she's also a woman of her time and was never subjected to any of Kikyo's training for a miko living in Japan's Sengoku era.

Historically, Kikyo Began Her Miko Training In Childhood

Historically, miko in Japan fulfilled a very different role from their modern counterparts. While today's miko are seen assisting priests at Shinto shrines, in the past they were actually shaman women. As such, they maintained a position of power and authority within their respective communities. As practitioners of Shinto, their job description included performing divinations, exorcisms and communicating with the kami (spirits and deities) of their respective communities. That last one entailed allowing kami to possess their bodies and convey their messages through a trance-like dance that is performed today as kagura or miko mai.

Within Inuyasha canon, Kikyo is seen performing many functions of the historical miko, most notably exorcisms with her asuza yumi (sacred bow) and hama ya (exorcism arrows). To become a miko, however, Kikyo couldn't just be anyone. She either had to be the daughter of a shaman or had to possess strong spiritual potential. While nothing is known about Kikyo's parents, she does, have a reputation for immense spiritual strength. That power is most likely how she got selected by her community to train to become a miko.

Per Japan's own history, to become a miko, Kikyo would've begun training at a very young age and undergone a series of purification rituals. Since training lasted anywhere from three to seven years, Kikyo would've started her training at age 10 or 11 if she was approximately 17 or 18 at the time she met Inuyasha. The completion of her training would've ended with a ceremony to symbolize her bond with the kami Kikyo would commit to serving, which was the reason she had to remain a virgin. Since purity is central to the Shinto belief system, maintaining sexual purity was essential to Kikyo fulfilling her role as a medium for her community's kami.

Being A Miko Was At Odds With Kikyo's Humanity

Despite Kikyo's training paying off and establishing herself as one of the more powerful miko known throughout Japan, her life was also at odds with her humanity. Kikyo was more than aware of what she was sacrificing to fulfill her responsibilities to her community and the kami she vowed to serve. This internal conflict became a major source of unhappiness for Kikyo, who was still a teenaged girl, and was explored in detail in the Inuyasha anime spring special "Tragic Love Song of Destiny".

In the spring special, Kikyo's powers and talents another miko's envy -- Tsubaki, whom she trained with. At the start of the special, Tsubaki went out of her way to remind Kikyo of what her training entailed and why she couldn't fall in love with a man if she intended to maintain her spiritual strength. This was Tsubaki's no-so-underhanded way of reminding Kikyo how quickly she can lose all that she has worked hard for the moment she compromises her sexual purity. In fact, she was counting on that happening given Kikyo's youth.

While Kikyo brushed off Tsubaki's "advice" as placing a curse on her, it was established in both the Inuyasha manga and anime that -- as the more powerful miko of the two -- Tsubaki's curses don't have an effect on Kikyo. Still, Tsubaki wasn't off in her prediction given Kikyo's own internal conflict in reconciling her humanity with her miko existence. More than anything, this was the reason Kikyo refused to kill Inuyasha every time he pestered her for the Shikon no Tama (apart from recognizing he was a hanyō and not a full yōkai) and what led to her bonding with him.

Falling In Love Led To Kikyo's Sexual Awakening

Over the course of their friendship, Inuyasha and Kikyo developed mutual romantic feelings. This led to them spending more time together, and to Kikyo becoming more emotionally vulnerable. One thing Tsubaki noticed in her next encounter with Kikyo was how much her spiritual powers had weakened since meeting Inuyasha. She once again reminded her of what she was compromising by allowing herself to fall in love. This implies Kikyo started experiencing sexual desire, which Tsubaki then attempted to exploit by unleashing her famous snake curse. Though the attack was easily deflected, Tsubaki still was not wrong in her predictions.

Not long after this encounter, Kikyo began experiencing the full extent of what her romantic relationship with Inuyasha was costing her. She was becoming less powerful and effective in fights against yōkai, one of which resulted in the loss of her sister's eye in the anime. This forced Kikyo to make a decision: give up her life as a miko and become an ordinary woman, or give up her romantic relationship to regain her strength as a miko. She ended up choosing the former, which led to her proposing that Inuyasha use the Shikon no Tama to become human. If he did, the jewel could be purified while Kikyo could be relieved of her responsibilities to it. After some thought, Inuyasha accepted Kikyo's proposal, which led to their first kiss in the anime special.

Kikyo's Downfall Is Linked To Loss Of Sexual Purity

Although the kiss in the anime was depicted as an affirmation of Inuyasha and Kikyo's love for one another, when examined through Japan's historical context, it was even more significant than that. In Kikyo's time, people in Japan did not kiss as part of romantic expression, but as part of sexual interaction. Since Kikyo is a woman of her time with no knowledge of western European notions of love, this means that when she kissed Inuyasha on the boat dock, she was initiating a sexual encounter. This happened during the daytime and Inuyasha was later seen escorting Kikyo back to her village late at night.

While the anime does not detail what Inuyasha and Kikyo did during those in-between hours, plenty of contextual clues in the aftermath hint at them having engaged in sexual activity. The first clue was Kikyo not detecting Naraku's distinct aura when he visited her at the shrine disguised as Inuyasha. Since Kikyo is skilled at detecting different yōkai auras (and especially Naraku's distinct aura post-resurrection), this is a strong indicator of how much her spiritual powers weakened. This was confirmed by Naraku later on -- in both the Inuyasha manga and anime -- as the reason he was able to attack and kill Kikyo. Had he encountered her while she was still at peak spiritual strength, he would not have succeeded in his plan to tear both her and Inuyasha apart.

Revisiting the question of why Kikyo's powers diminished by falling in love when the same didn't happen to Kagome, it boils down to the fact Kikyo is a historical miko, whereas Kagome is a modern miko. As a historical miko, Kikyo was bound by the rules of her occupation, which at the time entailed maintaining sexual purity. Kagome, by contrast, is not bound by those same rules as modern miko in Japan are no longer required to remain sexually pure to assist priests at Shinto shrines. As a 20th century girl, this is the perspective Kagome brings to the Sengoku era.

[giantsreach]

part of having written carver since like. 2013/14 is that i can never remember which topics i’ve posted meta on but i’m pretty sure i haven’t discussed his banter with fenris in-depth on this blog yet.

i think something that rubs me the wrong way about the way carver and fenris often interact in fan work is that there tends to be an underlying and fundamental misunderstanding about why carver approaches fenris in the manner he does. i’ve seen a lot of carver talking out of his ass to fenris for no reason other than a ) he thinks he knows better, and/or b ) his overly critical eye wants to fault-find. + he’s annoying or smth to that effect. 🙄

these interpretations tend to neglect the actual driving force behind carver interacting with fenris in the first place, and that’s that carver has had little exposure to other warriors. apart from his time in king cailin’s army, he was peerless ( literally ) in his field, and only interacted with his fellow swordspeople when they passed through town via the imperial highway. 

now, there is aveline, of course, but the writing makes it clear that aveline takes on the role of yet another older sibling ( or family of a similar, authoritative position ) in his life, and as such, doesn’t quite qualify as a peer in the traditional sense.

this likely isn’t the most flattering way of phrasing it, but carver wants friends. people who he can relate to, who share his interests and background, who find him as compelling as he finds them. carver may seem prickly or sullen in act i ( and he certainly is at times ), but he’s also experiencing two-prongs of isolation:

     1 ) cultural, as a fereldan refugee in a city-state that doesn’t try to hide its hatred of foreign asylum-seekers, and      2 ) mundane, as a displaced young man who has never quite fit in at home nor in any village they've settled in, and who has recently lost the family member closest to him, and who watches his surviving sibling pick up new companions left and right as if it’s not at all difficult.

cut to fenris, who is a consummate swordsman. and while carver is initially on edge because he's under the impression fenris could pose a threat to hawke, once the tension is dispelled, he's far from opposed to fenris's presence. if anything, carver is eager for his approval. fenris is, aside from aveline, the only warrior carver gets to spend any considerable amount of time with, and he's singular in his skill and ability. it's plain to see why someone like carver, starved for peers, would want to establish some kind of rapport with someone as exemplary as fenris.

the problem is, naturally, that carver — nineteen and having never learned to read socialize properly, due in equal parts to growing up sheltered as well as having poor self-confidence — cannot stop himself from saying shit that is so mind-blowingly stupid, that it is a wonder fenris was as forbearing as he was. i'm talking about:

Carver: So... this master of yours wants your markings back? Skin and all? Fenris: So his hunters told me. Unwillingly. Carver: So why not cover them up? Wouldn't that make you harder to find? Fenris: Let them come. I am not one to hide. Carver: Still, if it were me— Fenris: It's not. ─────── Carver: So you've really never thought of hiding from those hunters? Fenris: To what end? Carver: So you could, I don't know, have a life? Fenris: What life do you have? There are no hunters after you at all.

i feel like it should be obvious why these banters are in bad taste, so i won’t go into detail to lambaste carver over his blatant ignorance. the dialogue is proof itself, especially considering how little of fenris’s experience carver ( or anyone else for that matter ) can truly comprehend. 

what i will do, true to form, is explain that no, carver did not just pull that suggestion, careless as it was, out of his ass. while hawke may or may not do their best to lay low as an apostate, potentially choosing to engage then-knight-captain cullen over the unjust treatment of mages depending on player discretion, carver has internalized how malcolm guided the family. his father taught them to keep their heads down and be prepared to hit the road in case the circle caught scent of them? then that must be the best way to approach it. emotional neglect unfortunately primed carver to idealize and adopt malcolm's choices and general philosophy. this carries over even to legacy, where, regardless of carver's current character arc, carver will agree that malcolm was correct to keep secrets.

so there's fenris, right, who carver believes is in a position similar to that which the hawkes have been in. carver, attempting to help ( as he is wont to do ), wants to share what had worked for them in attaining a semblance of normalcy, not realizing or considering that that is not fenris's foremost goal. hiding is not a one-size fix-all solution, but carver hasn't expanded his horizons well enough to grasp that fully yet.

then there's largest contributors to my secondhand embarrassment in da2:

Carver: You're very different from other elves. Fenris: Oh? You know them all? Carver: No. I just... you look different. There's no denying that. Fenris: It is what I am. And unlike the problems you claim to have, I really did have no choice. Carver: Do we know anyone who isn't brooding every hour of the day? Fenris: Like attracts like, it seems. ─────── Carver: You know, Fenris, I have a tattoo. Fenris: You have a what? Carver: A tattoo. A lot of us got them before Ostagar. It's a Mabari. For strength. Fenris: Does it curse you with the ability to reach into a man and tear out his insides? Carver: Uh. I can make it bark. Fenris: Please don't.

i’ll start with the second one first. at its heart, the tattoo banter hearkens back to the fact carver wants to feel like he has something in common with someone. yes, it is cringe. but it’s also misguidedly sweet, and on top of that, it’s something carver also tries to do with merrill, who carver arguably has the friendliest dynamic with out of hawke’s crew. 

Carver: Your people came a long way Merrill, but I like to think that we have Ferelden in common. Merrill: I never saw Lothering. Did you walk as much as we did? Probably more, you didn't start with halla. Our ship stunk. Carver: Your ship? Merrill: There was something foul in the hold. I can still smell it. Carver: Oh, well, that must have been unpleasant. Merrill: It was. Did I miss something dirty again? Carver: No.

speaking of parallels, the “you’re very different from other elves” dialogue mirrors this one with merrill:

Carver: So, you're not like a lot of other girls. Merrill: No, I'm an elf. Carver: Right. Alright then. Merrill: Oh, did I miss something dirty? Carver: What? No! It wasn't dirty. It wasn't anything.

yes, i took 42069 points of psychic damage from reading that too. but the main takeaway from this is that carver is trying, poorly, to make the two people he thinks he could be friends with feel like they’re special. ( you know, like how carver wishes he was. lol. ) to disastrous results. but i think it’s more than worth mentioning that the intent behind his conversation-making is never once condescending. 

and it’s not like carver lacks self-awareness, either. after he becomes a warden and returns to the party for mark of the assassin, he admits he lacked polish.

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?

Carver: So, we're lost. Varric: Just like old times. Carver: Maker, I hope not. I was an ass. Varric: (laughs) Fair comment, Junior. All right, let's get this done.

and specifically to fenris:

Carver: Orlesians. Can't build a hallway without turning it into a maze. Fenris: Keep going. I'm sure your training will kick in any moment. Carver: Still don't like me? I've tried to change. Fenris: You have. Now you're dangerous. Let's move.

i don’t know how to end this nearly 1.5k meta, so tl;dr i guess

[prince-toffee]

Save The Bat

The mission had gone awry. There were too many troops to fight off, far more than they expected. Sounds of struggle and battle came across the communicator indicating Glimmer was in trouble, possibly surrounded. Bow, of course, sprinted off in hast to aid his friend, worry and distress on his face. Leaving Entrapta on her own. And she did not mind in the slightest. Bow disappeared further into the space-station behind a wall as he took a turn, one turn out of thousands of turns, along thousands of corridors. The warship was a maze, unlucky for the boy, lucky for Entrapta - let’s just say she had plenty of time to get acquainted with the concept of mazes. With her teammate gone she freely set out on her own quest, for the real reason she came here.

The Drylian Princess made her way across the corridors and hallways at a leisurely pace. She analysed the architecture of the vessel, she admitted it was all very fascinating. The walls, ceiling, and floor seemed to be made of some sort of marble-like material. Waxed and cleaned to perfection. Along the walls and ceiling ran see-through conduits and channels. Through them flew some sort of green fluid - its neon green glow reflected in her eyes, it almost had a strange coaxing effect. Entrapta had remembered seeing the substance back when she worked in the Fright Zone. She worked with the substance when she was figuring out how to improve efficiency of fuel, that all the bots and machines in the Fright Zone were taking. She needed to know what her bots were taking in, and once she found out she decided she wouldn’t let them take that kind of slop. Through her analysis she found the substance was toxic, corrosive and addictive - a quick boost in efficiency, but then followed by a long period of drawbacks, such as cellular degradation. It felt like a cheap fuel source. Awful stuff.

Fuel, that’s what she thought it was at first, that’s what Hordak told her it was when they first worked together. But she always had her suspicions, Hordak always seemed too secretive about it.

So she followed her only clue on through the corridors. As she made her way across the labyrinth she felt and heard multiple explosions going off in the distance, seemed like those explosive arrows came in handy. On her way following the green substance she encountered a few obstacles, in the form of patrolling clones. Entrapta managed to deal with them quickly and easily, they did not stop or slow her advance. Her mechanical hair could lift tons of metal machinery, clones were no problem. Even if they did weight more than her missing lab-partner, they were swept off their feet all the same. Literally.

She had to admit it was hard, they all had his face, his voice, she didn’t like to see him angry, snarling and growling at her. But that didn’t stop her, the aggressors couldn’t even get close. The Princess’ tendrils flailed around forming a hurricane of hair - clones flew across the white corridors like stones skipping across a lake. Once the cryptid royal was finished with slapping around her attackers she was faced with a large metallic door, the pipeline of green disappeared behind it.

For the operating clones on the other side they had no idea what hit them, no time to react. All they heard was the sound of metal bending and tearing like paper. The door flew off knocking down clones. With a few precise hits from her hair the clones went through the wall, across the room and slammed into the floor. Her attention drifted off from the conflict to the pillars of... some sort of pods.

Curious. The pods seemed to be some sort of stasis capsules, in them were shadowy silhouettes of humanoid figures, they seemed to be suspended in mid-air. Surrounded in the green substance. Fascinating.

A stream of thoughts flooded her mind, her suspicions were right. It looked like clones had been created and altered to feed off of that matter, and only that. Entrapta never remembered Hordak eating anything, or drinking, or sleeping. And now it was obvious, it was so because he didn’t need to. One fuel source to power the entire body. Most likely cheaply produced - since you would have to make enough for an army spanning the size of half the universe, plus you would have to transport it across light years of space too. Viewed by Prime as cost effective, no doubt, but clearly not healthy. Though she doubted he much cared.

Entrapta pulled out a test tube from her overalls and popped off the cork. She knelt down infront of a large pool of the green liquid. She didn’t speculate what it was for, she knew she wouldn’t like the answer. The sample was collected from the pool and the cork was pushed back on. Her mind stayed fine focused on the liquid, on studying and analysing it.

She tried not to think too much about Hordak. Even though it was hard not to in a place like that. But that was how she managed to survive on Beast Island, she kept her mind busy. Think of nothing but the project, that’s how it always was, that’s how she kept herself company all her life. Along in the corridors of Dryl. No one to study and analyse with her.

As she was putting the sample away she heard a small ‘tink’. Something fell out of her pocket. She already knew what it was even before she saw it. The crystal. The one she excavated from the Northern Reach, the one she gave to Hordak as a gift as a toast to a new partnership, and the one she found in the rubble of the Fright Zone when she returned from the island. She had no idea why she rushed in, why she searched through the fire and debris - maybe she thought she’d find him, but she didn’t, she found the crystal instead.

But to just see his face, just to see him again... She didn’t know what she would’ve said to him if she found him in there. She wouldn’t know what to do if she faced him. She didn’t even know how Hordak himself would’ve reacted. In anger, at her return, roaring and yelling. Maybe... maybe he wouldn’t have reacted at all, maybe he’d just shrug off her return, unphased. Maybe he never cared. Maybe. She had hope in her heart that it wasn’t so, but... he never came for her, to save her. And they did part on bad terms. Entrapta’s dark thought process led her to believe that Hordak had ordered Catra to send her off to Beast Island. The way Adora and Glimmer vouched for Catra seemed to prove that to be likely. Meaning Hordak had probably threatened Catra with the same fate, forcing the kid to make a decision in an ultimatum. Poor girl.

And yet... she took the crystal and she set off to find him. Because there was something off. She couldn’t explain it, it just wasn’t right. Maybe it was foolish hope. But she was going to get an answer and it was going to be from him. He owed her that much. If he did indeed just use her, he was going to say it to her face... and she would deal with it. She picked up the crystal and gave it a good glare. She scanned over the surface of the tech component, the engraving was hand written by her, in First Ones. It spelled ‘Loved’. Or at least that’s what she hoped, hopefully she spelled it right.

She ran her gloved thumb across the engraving and reflective surface, entranced. Entrapta was too preoccupied with the thoughts, she had barely noticed the low growl off to her side. She turned to see a crawling clone on the floor moving towards a console on her right. Before she could extend her hair to deal with him the clone pressed some button on the green panel on the console, which initiated some kind of alarm or alert. Red lights blared in the room. Entrapta made quick work of him, throwing him aside.

Entrapta struggled slightly with the panel and deactivating the alarm, she was pretty familiar with Horde tech since she spent over a year toying and tweaking with it in the Fright Zone... With Hordak. He helped her comprehend and work with the alien tech, not that she wouldn’t have figured it out herself, but it was nice. Having someone else discuss her passions with, someone you can learn new things with. Any question she had Hordak answered happily. The experience was very enlightening. But Entrapta knew the tech Hordak was stuck with, left over from the salvaged parts from his crash landing was, for lack of a better term - trash. Compared to what the Galactic Horde had, Hordak was playing with leftover scraps. Hordak had integrated the Fright Zone’s Horde tech with Etherian tech, which was far less advanced. But you gotta work with what you got around.

For Hordak it must’ve been quite frustrating, trapped for just over thirty years, failing every time he tried, on a primitive planet in an unmapped section of space. For Hordak it must’ve been like a time-traveller attempting to build a time-machine with sticks and flint.

In that moment she shared his frustration, only the circumstance was flipped on her - a caveman working on a time machine. She comprehended about half of what was set before her. The actual keyboard was some interactive screen, that had no letters or symbols, and the keys weren’t in any logical pattern that was easy to use. Her knowledge came into play when she ripped the panel off, which exposed the machine’s guts in the from of wiring and circuit boards. Once she worked her magic the alarm stopped - hopefully that meant no more troops would arrive to slow her progress.

However, as she thought that, she noticed a dozen or so pods descend from the sides of the room. It had seemed that the alarm didn’t call for clones from across the warship, but rather from the hibernation chambers themselves. Entrapta was intrigued about their purpose. Were they for healing wounded? Keeping individuals from ageing? Refuelling their bodies? Perhaps all in one.

In any case, there was one pod in particular that managed to fully descend down to the floor. While others were stuck half way down. The green fluid began to drain out of the pod through the back, pouring out via multiple tubes attached to the back of the pod. There those tubes led to the conduits Entrapta was following previously. Once all the substance was drained out, the blurry glass-like capsule opened like a cocoon of a butterfly. Revealing a half-awake clone. Half-conscious. It was the only pod to open, Entrapta reasoned she must’ve turned off the security mechanism just in time, but the negative feedback must’ve been delayed, and so one guard managed to awaken, somewhat.

Entrapta stood up, her hair at the ready. She moved up to the alerted clone to check if he was a threat. The invading Princess hadn’t been paying much attention to the clones, she knew they weren’t him, but it still hurt. She shouldn’t think about him, as demonstrated moments ago she becomes greatly unfocused, if doing so.

But now, in the silent and still moment, Entrapta locked her gaze onto the unmoving clone. He didn’t move, or seem to acknowledge her presence infront of him. A strange gathering of emotions swelled inside her. She looked over the figure, he looked no different from any other clone, at least at first sight. He wore the same white, black and grey uniform - a flipped down hood, silver belt, a white robe and skirt with a black Horde insignia at the centre of his chest. And what looked like a black undergarment layer. His face was a cold scowl, his mouth a thin line and his green eyes narrowed. And then, a stray lock of hair gone rogue and separate from the rest, hanging down, with almost a curly look to it. She thought to herself, he looked almost like Hordak. But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been... could it? She cautiously stepped closer.

She stopped on the spot as she heard the clone give out a low growl. Entrapta had no idea if he could perceive her or if he was in a daydream-like state. She pulled out the crystal, her gift. From what she heard and understood from Glimmer’s story, which she pestered her about quite a lot, Entrapta learned the fate of the clones and Hordak, and it wasn’t reassuring. Entrapta questioned the pink Princess, she wanted to know everything there was to know about what happened. The way Glimmer described the clones was as if they were marionettes and puppets, their strings pulled by Horde Prime. He seemingly had the ability to control the clones with his mind, and erase memories from them, turning them into lifeless and brainwashed vessels.

No doubt that was Catra’s fate too. That’s why they set off, to save the cat. She saved Glimmer’s life and in turn Glimmer convinced Adora to give Catra one more chance at redemption, Bow followed because of course he did, he was in love with Glimmer, where ever she went, he went. Entrapta volunteered eagerly to go on the quest, and so she was put on the rescue team, they found her expertise essential. Entrapta herself wasn’t much invested in the actual rescue - you could say she still had a chip on her shoulder. The girl did taze her, and send her off to die, I mean she literally stabbed her in the back. Entrapta still had the burn scar on her back, a constant reminder of that day. Entrapta was mostly there for exploration of new tech and space. But the more she wanted to deny it the more she realised it was all a distraction from thinking about him.

So perhaps this was it, the push she needed. To confront him. For all this time she was avoiding him in her mind. Pretending like he didn’t exist for an entire month on the island. Now, she extended her hand to him so he could clearly see the crystal she was holding. She hoped that the gift would awaken something in him, some memory of her, of them. If those memories even still existed inside of him. Or if they were even genuine. She hoped so. She really did.

She hoped all those moments were real - all the First Ones technology that they examined together, upgrading the power grid, Hordak gifting her with the galaxy star maps, and most of all, all those long talks they had, where they exchanged and bounced ideas off of each other. She looked at those moments most fondly. Finally connecting with someone who understood her and her passions and didn’t just nod their head at her, someone who understood her. Someone who didn’t limit her.

“Hordak.” She began, but stopped immediately as she choked on air in her nervousness, she tried to find her words, “Is- Is that you?” The Princess asked full of worry, afraid of the answer, “Do- Do you remember me?”

Silence. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but it almost looked like he narrowed and squinted his eyes even more. He looked so grumpy. Entrapta got no answer of any kind so she went on with talking to him, maybe just to herself. She hoped something would stir inside him, “Hmmm, I guess not, but... I don’t know... I don’t know. I hoped it’d be like one of those fairy tales, the ones that have the Princess rescue their knight in shining armour from the clutches of the evil dragon. A tale as old as time. Those stories always had happy endings. Perhaps cliché, but they were nice. Stories with the hero managing to bring back their lover from death with the power of love that was inside of them all along or snapping them out of a trance or spell using just words. Not that we were lo- I just, you know. I liked you... Do- did you like me?” Or was I just a nuisance to you like to everyone else, she thought to herself. Her voice was shaky, nervous. She waited for anything, any reaction from the clone, anything, even anger. Just something. But there was nothing. No indication of life in the shell, “You really don’t remember me, do you? ...Maybe it’s not even you.”

Sadness washed over her face. She almost gave up, almost. However as she looked over him, for what she thought was the last time, she noticed his cheeks. His blue coloured skin was paler than normal. She moved to his side, tilted her head to look at the behind the scenes. Green glowing veins ran across his skin. Her eyes traced the veins to their source, the tubes and cables attached to his back and neck. The mad-scientist moved to re-move them. That was when she felt a hand stop her. The clone had gently grabbed her my the wrist, his expression finally changed. He was sorrowful and upset, with sadness and hopelessness in his toxic-waste-green eyes.

His voice was silent and weak, “Please, I don’t want to remember, Catra.” He said in a defeated tone.

Entrapta was shocked, he thought... So much changed in that moment, most of all Entrapta’s determination. She was right! She knew her lab-partner well. “It’s okay, Hordak. I need you to be a little stronger for just a little longer.” She said trying to rescue him from that brainwashed state. He shook his head in protest, but it did not stop Entrapta of Dryl. She used her hair to tug and yank and sever the conduits from Hordak’s body.

As she did so, his body took a shock from the disconnection, his body experienced a violent spasm and he fell to the floor at Entrapta’s feet.

She lowered herself to him, to aid him up. Hordak coughed and spat out globules of the green solution, he sounded like a drowning man gasping for air. And it seemed Hordak’s psyche managed to claw itself out of the liquid up to the surface, because as he looked up at Entrapta for the first real time after his death, a switch flipped in his head. He noticed her face and the crystal.

“...Entrapta... En- Entrapta! Y- You’re live!”

Hordak exclaimed in excitement and confusion, he did not know if his eyes were deceiving him, he thought surely his mind was playing tricks on him. Perhaps this was a fever dream, he shook his head, his body shuttered, he felt weak like he was about to faint. Or, his mind wandered to an even darker place, perhaps it was his Brother - torturing him again.

“You do remember me! I knew you would.” Entrapta replied happily, a smile on her face. She wanted to hold his hand, intertwin their fingers together, hold him, but she didn’t wish to touch him without his say so. It wasn’t the time yet, Hordak was still in shock.

Hordak saw her reach for his hand and he pulled back in panic. “No, no, no. Stop it. Stop it!” He shouted and placed his hands over his head, turned away from her and closed his eyes, “I want to forget! I want to forget! I want to forget!”

“Hordak?” She asked worried.

“Stop! This isn’t real. I know it’s not. She’s dead.” Entrapta pulled back, she was bewildered and perplexed. Dead? She had no idea how to even respond to that. He thought... She remembered when she talked to Glimmer she mentioned that Hordak submitted himself to Prime. Fell on his knees then on the floor. He was willing for this to happen, why?

“Hordak it’s me! It is! I’m here to rescue you, there’s an escape ship, and the others are making a distraction, we can escape! I just need you to come with me. Can you walk? Do you need me to carry you?”

Hordak shook his head, he clenched and grinded his teeth, it hurt for him to hear her voice, “Brother, please stop. I beg you, I pray to you, praise you! I gave you everything, told you all you wished to know, all I knew.” Entrapta was shook to her core, Hordak’s words scared her. She needed to find a way to make him see that it was her not Prime.

She opened her mouth, but she struggled to find any words for him. She sat down on the clean reflective floor next to him where he collapsed. She looked at him silently. Hordak was shaking and quivering. Her voice was quiet, “It’s me Hordak, Entrapta. Your lab-partner. ...Do you remember that day? The day you fainted in your Sanctum. We had been working together for about a year by then. You tried to scare me off, but you fell. I took you to your armchair and wrapped you up in a blanket, Imp watched over you while I left for the Fright Zone kitchen. He’s so adorable, so cute! Heh. He does this thing when he doesn’t want to eat, he makes this frowny face and turns up his nose. He looks just as grumpy as you... he looks just like you... He’s here by the way! Well not here here, he’s on our rescue ship. I found him in the ruins of the Fright Zone, poor thing was cold and clinging to that blanket and the crystal.”

Her pupils shifted to the side to watch Hordak, he was listening now, “I brought him in, cleaning him up. Emily’s taking care of him, looking after him.”

Finally, he responded, “That’s good.”

Entrapta continued, “When you came to, your face was so precious, scared, worried, confused, and a little angry, I’m sure. I know my soups weren’t uhm... eatable-”

“No, no, they were- they were good.” Hordak awkwardly murmured, always trying to defend her, even from her own remarks, he couldn’t stop himself.

Entrapta giggled, “It’s fine, I never had much practice cooking I always had a kitchen staff. The perks of being a Princess... Then you told me about yourself, you opened up to me. Something you hadn’t done to anyone else I imagine, I appreciated that. I made you some armour, you’re welcome by the way, no big deal. And you were really nice to me, in your own way. That gave me a good chuckle, just imagining you storming into a meeting of The Makers Guild and yelling at them. Calling them ‘utter fools’. HA! I practically see their scared faces! That’d show them.”

After a quiet moment Hordak turned to her, “I would have done it for you.”

“I know.” She replied. A deep nasty cough came from Hordak, so loud it rattled his bones. Everything hurt. Suddenly Entrapta was on alert again. But as she nudged closer, he pulled himself further away. That hurt. She continued on, “But I think we parted on bad terms, if you recall. You got angry at Adora, and lashed it out on me. That was the last time we met. The portal was finished, I worried you wouldn’t need me anymore. And my fears came true, or, well that was what I thought, until now. Minutes later I was stabbed in the back, literally, and I was shipped off to Beast Island, it should’ve been surprising but it wasn’t.” Entrapta fell silent, Hordak hated that he could read that look, as if that wasn’t the first time she was betrayed and cast aside, he knew that look.

“I was there for a month. Alone. Again, that should’ve been out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t, I’ve been alone for most my life. But somehow that one month was more painful than most of my life. Maybe because I felt like I lost something, something that was worth having.” Spirits fell even lower, Entrapta’s hair sank down, and Hordak’s ears drooped. “Then they saved me, the Princesses I mean, they needed me and now I feel like I owe the kids. If you know what I mean.” Hordak’s heart felt like it was about to leap out of his rip cage, he felt rotten and ashamed of himself - It should’ve been him, who saved her. It was that horrid feeling inside of him that grew tenfold with Entrapta’s next words, “...I was waiting for you. But you never came for me. So, naturally and logically I theorised... that you were in fact the reason why I ended up there.”

It was that feeling of shame and guilt that had led him to giving himself in to Prime’s purification - he couldn’t live without her, couldn’t live with himself. But he managed to respond, “I didn’t know.” Entrapta’s head lifted up, a confused expression on her face, she let him continue, “I am so sorry Entrapta. I was a fool. I shouldn’t have believed Catra’s lie, I should have seen through it. I should have rescued you. I failed you.” Hordak stood using the side of the pod to pull himself up. He gave out a terrible cough, a worse one than before. Entrapta too stood up, hoping he would go on.

He did, “That’s why I gave up. I couldn’t go on, knowing I failed you, knowing you died behind my back in my ignorance. I should have known better. I should have found out about the truth sooner. I am sorry.” He took one of the tubes, green Life Force dripping from it - he debated in his head if he should return to his brainwashed state. To end it again, for good this time.

Before he could reach behind his neck his hand was stayed, the small single tear on the edge of his eye was wiped away by Entrapta’s gloved hand, “What? Hordak explain, what do you mean, you didn’t know, what lie?” She took hold of him by his forearms.

Hordak blinked at her, stiff, his mouth slightly agape, “C- Catra, she told me you were the one who let the Princesses into the Fright Zone to stop me, that you betrayed me. When I learned the truth from Double Trouble it was too late, I thought you were dead or worse, and Prime had captured me.”

Entrapta stood infront of him silent looking at him dumbfounded, “And you believed her?!”

“I- I never had anyone stay by me. I was taught that I was worthless and repulsive, I always felt like having you by my side was too good to be true. It all felt like a rather pleasant dream. After the lie I thought to myself - of course she didn’t care, of course it was all a trick, she was a spy. I am unholy, impure, I am unworthy of such care... It was all too good to be true.”

Entrapta gave him a weak smile, “You do realise the irony of this situation don’t you? If only you loved yourself a little more we wouldn’t be here, Hordikins.” She said as she patted his chest. She gave off a weak chuckle, and Hordak responded with a faint smile. The brief moment was cut short by the sound of explosions in the distance, “Must be the kids, they’re sort of on their own quest on the other side of the ship... Wanna get out of here?” She asked with a warm smile, which melted Hordak’s heart.

Hordak seemed unsure and afraid, “I- I don’t know, you cannot hide from my Brother’s wrath, his will is universe spanning. Time, space and resources are no obstacle to him. His anger is limitless. He will not stop until impurities like us are all eradicated! I cannot keep you safe...” Entarpta gave him a firm look, one that stated clearly that she knew all that, and was willing to try anyway, she could take care of herself, and Hordak knew that. “Ah, to the Void with it! I might as well die living. Truly living. Apologies Entrapta I am not as well acquainted with the concepts of anarchy and rebellion as you are.” He stated sheepishly.

“You’ll learn.” Entrapta cheerfully replied, “Can you walk? Can you run?”

“Maybe.” He stated as a terrible cough shook him as if he was jello, he felt awful, like his chest was about to cave in. And his mind was becoming increasingly more foggy, “No.” Entrapta quickly picked up the crystal.

So it was decided, Entrapta quickly wrapped her hair around Hordak’s shaking body and carried him bridal style out of the room as she sprinted back to the ship. On their way they met some resistance, but it was nothing Entrapta couldn’t handle. Even Hordak helped in a few instances by transmitting an all-clear signal to his brothers, claiming to be escorting a prisoner. But it didn’t work every time, hence the usefulness of Entrapta’s violence. As time passed Hordak’s coughing became worse, louder and more violent. Both Entrapta and he realised his condition was worsening. She picked up her pace.

On the way they met up with the rest of the squad, which led to quite an awkward moment where both Catra, in Adora’s arms, and Hordak, in Entrapta’s arms, locked eyes with each other. And it was unbearable. Glimmer and Bow almost lost their minds at the sight of Entrapta rescuing a random clone. She mentioned that the clone could contain useful strategic data to help fight against Prime. There was no argument as they were being chased, and they were in a rush. She also did not mention it was Hordak. Catra could tell, however she didn’t say anything.

They ran into the ship and the auto-pilot immediately took off. The escape wasn’t priceless, the heavy laser fire from The Velvet Glove managed to break the ship’s shields and the hull sustained heavy damage. Which meant repairs were necessary, meaning they would have to land somewhere soon. But that wasn’t on Entrapta’s mind, she didn’t see that as a priority right in that moment.

Everyone went into their different rooms, Adora and Catra in one, Bow and Glimmer in another and then Entrapta and Hordak settled in some medical room. Entrapta locked the doors behind them so that no one would bother them. Entrapta gently placed Hordak on a medical bed to let him rest while she tried to figure out what was happening to him. He was getting worse. He began sweating, something Entrapta never saw happen to him. Neither was breathing, which he was doing heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He was coughing and choking on nothing, with tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t say a word. His eyes were wide. They communicated a begging, and praying to her for help. Entrapta was panicing, what was causing this? Then she noticed his ports, or rather the skin around the ports - they were dry, withered, and shrivelled. A small faint hint of white veins emerging from that area.

Entrapta got an idea, although she wasn’t sure if it was a good one. She pulled out the test tube sample from her overalls, and eyed it. She had a dilemma at hand. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Her analysis was correct - corrosive, but addictive. Hordak needed the Life Force to survive, but it itself will destroy him from the inside anyhow... but at least it’ll buy him a little more time.

She popped off the cork. She lifted Hordak’s head, exposing his main neck port. Hordak closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain. She jammed the tube into it allowing the liquid to pure into Hordak. She hoped it would buy him and her some more time. Then - a final sharp cough that made him tremble and convulse, his body spasmed and jerked, and the horrid sequence ended with a gasp. Then the body settled and stayed. After a silent moment, Hordak opened his eyes. He looked around seeming confused by his surroundings. Then his eyes met Entrapta and they widened.

“Entrapta! You’re alive!”

At that moment Entrapta’s heart sank. She put on a fake, forced smile on her face as they had the same conversation all over again, and that wasn’t the last time that Hordak would forget, and the conversation would repeat. Over and over, and over again. Entrapta managed to sedate him and leave him to rest, she wouldn’t let Imp go into the room, she didn’t want Imp to see him like that. But she promised both Imp, and Hordak, every time he awoke, that she was going to find some way to help him. He believed her. Every time.

[fandomscombine]

Boxing Day

Fred Weasley x Reader

BG: You and Fred had made a deal that there won’t be presents exchanged this year but you had stumbled onto something you just had to share.

a/n: Happy 2021! Hope the new year has been good to you so far. Yes it’s a Holiday fic but between my Christmas hiatus and unforeseen food poisoning and vomiting in this first week. It’s only now I had time to catch up on writing and posting!

WC: 895

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

You awoke to a soft caressing voice.

‘Morning Beautiful, time to wake up’ said your husband, tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

Nuzzling your face closer to the pillow, you groaned.  You were not a morning person. Especially during the holidays- why get up when you can stay in bed all day?

Suddenly the warmth was stripped away, in its place was a harsh cold breeze.

‘Freddie!’ You scream, bolting up right. ‘Give it back! It’s freezing!’ You were eager to get back the thick blanket, despite wearing your fleece pyjamas, it was not strong enough against the rural winter.

‘No can do. Everyone is already downstairs exchanging presents!’

‘WHAT?! FREDD!’ You can’t believe he woke you up late, your First Weasley Christmas- well first Weasley Christmas as an official Weasley. Gosh this is so embarrassing.

Fred raised his arms in surrender. ‘In my defence, I did wake you up like 2 times before.’ ‘You were the one who kept on sleeping going “5 more minutes”.’ He imitated.

‘Alright Alright.’ You gave in, fighting would only cause you to delay further. ‘Just give me a sec to freshen up.’

‘Great, I’ll tell them you’ll be right down!’ Giving you a quick kiss goodbye.

That is one of the small things you love about your husband. When alone, his sweet gestures go out by a million. Pecking your cheek even if he were just to grab something in the other room.

Cutting your thoughts short, you hastily made yourself more presentable then your current bedhead self.

Almost forgetting to grab the most important thing you had secret brought.

‘Dammit Fred’ you muttered. ‘Why’d you have to toss the blanket onto our luggage?’

Rummaging through your bag, you finally felt it.

‘Aha!’ You exclaimed, shoving it into your jacket pocket just in time as the bedroom door opened.

‘You ready y/n? Everyone is waiting.’

~

‘There she is!’ greeted Molly, pulling you into a big mom hug.

‘Sorry I’m late. Overslept.’

‘It’s alright dear, now…’ Handing you a big paper bag. ‘This is for you.’

‘Oh wow! Thanks Molly!’ It was knitted sweater with your initial.’

‘Check the back.’ She winked.

So you did, and upon reading what was stitched you couldn’t help but cry.

Fred was in mid conversation with Arthur when heard Ron say. ‘Wait why is y/n crying?’

Like any worried husband would, Fred was beside you in an instant.

Stroking your back, he asks. ‘What wrong sweetheart?’

‘Oh it’s nothing its just…’ You replied, pulling away from Molly.

‘y/n Weasley.’ He reads, noting the sweater now on your lap.

‘yeah.’

When you were still dating Fred, you were lucky enough to have been given your own knitted wear by Molly. But you have to admit, there is just something that hits different this time around now that they are your in-laws.

‘Now why don’t we all have breakfast’ announced Arthur.

Ron quickly stood, ribbons of wrapping paper falling from his lap. ‘Yess Finally! I am STARVING!’

This was the perfect moment, it’s now or never.

You cleared your throat, ‘Actually…’  effectively causing to everyone to pause mid-way to the kitchen.

Ron popped back into the living room, a minced pie in hand.

You stood, gently removing the small blue box from your pocket, handing it to your puzzled husband.

‘What’s-‘ Fred eyed the box in his hand, clearly confused. ‘I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year.’

‘I know I know, with the new house and all- we promised. But this didn’t cost anything- well a tiny bit but it’s nothing.’

‘Y/n…’ Fred warned, feeling guilty that he hadn’t a present for you. He should have known that you would get him something, it was your first year as a married couple after all.

‘Just Open it!’ You were biting your knuckles both from excitement and nerves.

Fred looked around; all eyes were on him. He smiled giving in to your request.

He took a deep breath- what could his wife be up to?

‘You sure there’s something inside, y/n?’ He teased, pushing aside the excessive amount of wrapping tissue paper you had placed inside.  ‘I-‘

‘What? What is it?’ George asked, his eyes daring between his twin and you.

‘A pregnancy test?’  Fred’s brows creased, he looked up at you, whispering. ‘You want me to do a pregnancy test??’

You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at his remark. Gosh can this man be dim sometimes.

Everyone else thankfully had gotten the gist. Squeals and celebration overtook the room. In the corner of your eye you can see Harry looking lost, ‘Wait did I miss?’ and Ron, poor Ron, red in the face choking on his mince pie-looks like he took Fred’s comment literally.

‘Try again, love.’ You placed a hand on his thigh as you knelt.

His eyes scan the stick, this time taking it seriously.

‘Positive’

He drops the stick, whatever he was gonna say was cut off.

You giggled, knowing that Fred finally saw it.

The family rarely seen Fred speechless. It seemed to be a superpower of yours, the last time he was silent was when you walked down the aisle.

Fred quickly recovers ‘Are we????? Y/n, baby. Is this real??’ Scanning your eyes for the truth. ‘This is a prank isn’t it?’

‘No Love. It’s real, not a prank.’ You reassured him. ‘We’re going to be parents!’

–

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

[ratcandy]

what is your usual take on the PK? from "comically villainous bastard man who is even worse than the radiance" to "tragically wrong about his kids (or REALLY rooted in denial) but still redeemable"?

Oh man oh man!! Does getting a "what's your opinion on PK" ask mean I've finally made it as a hollow knight blog person? Oh man oh m--

/j heheh but uh!! Man I've got a lot of complicated opinions on him and his character. If I can make Zote into someone complex you better believe PK would give me a FIELD DAY to write out all my thoughts on. BUT! We're gonna. Try n condense this, so it's not cogr-length sdhgjkh-- but a fair warning that it will likely be rambley regardless

C/W for child death; this is PK we're talking about. Also yes this is a stupidly long ramble, as expected.

Right off the bat,

Do I think the Pale King is completely evil villain man? No

Do I think the Pale King is redeemable? No

And these things can Coexist!

There's a very fine line between "this character has reasons for their actions" and "this character is justifiable/redeemable despite their actions." PK is not that latter one at all. I don't care how you spin it or look at it; the Pale King killed millions of his own children. In a way that, for all we know, could have been a terrifying process to go through. We don't know what the effects of void feel like, especially on a child. Were they "alive" before the void overtook them? Could they speak before, but couldn't once the void drowned them out? We don't know. And that ambiguity puts PK somewhere between "even worse" and "still pretty bad." So.

However, he does have... reason, I guess. His kingdom was being destroyed and taken over by an outside force, and this is the only way to put a hold on it until he came up with a better solution. Even if it technically wasn't "his" kingdom to begin with but I digress. Thing is, I'm too curious on how the HELL PK came up with this idea in the first place. What in the world did he try beforehand against the Radiance? What other measures did he take that clearly failed? Was his first idea "well I guess I have to kill my children"?? Because then THAT is a whole oTHer scenario. TheN I'd be more inclined to believe "oh you're just an evil bastard."

But I can't imagine that this was anything but a last resort. A tragic one that, personally, I think he would regret, but still a morally awful one that is not redeemable because it's child slaughter. Call me heartless for this but I Don't Care how much you REGRET killing a/your child, you still killed a/your child. Children that were... practically infants, too. So. I mean.

How do I personally think he came to this conclusion? Well. I have a sorta idea that I might write out at some point, and essentially: I think PK and the White Lady were already expecting children before this. The Pale King was already working with void so to make his Kingsmoulds/Wingsmoulds. The children were born, all was fine, until they died due to an exposure to void. Or some other reason, but perhaps their bodies were too close to whatever void supply PK had; thus hollowing out their bodies. PK saw the effect, got the idea, but was initially mortified by the concept. Because. I mean! Unless this man is heartless, anyone would be repulsed by the idea of "ah yes I will kill my children and hollow them out with void to make something to contain my arch nemesis."

But as times got harder, he got desperate. The idea just sat in the back of his mind. The images of his already dead children sitting in his mind, perhaps persuading him that he could handle more death should it come to that. Until he finally just went with it.

Given that the White Lady seemed to... not necessarily be fine with the idea, but not fight against it,, that could further solidify in PK's mind that this was what he had to do.

Does that make it redeemable no of course not thanks for asking

ANYWAY what's my take on PK, exactly? Seeing as there's a trend of denial throughout Hallownest, I don't think it'd be too far off to say that the Pale King built up a sort of denial to say what he did was justified; or that it wasn't as bad as some might've thought it was. Seeing as his final thoughts were "no cost too great," that means one of a few things,

- He doesn't regret his actions - He regrets it and was thinking this thought sort of bitterly towards himself (we can't read tone through text, so that leaves it up to interpretation as far as I'm concerned. "No cost too great, huh?" sorta thing. especially if void is what killed him, as that is a popular theory) - He was too deep in denial to acknowledge just how terrible of a thing he did and/or that it didn't have to be like this

I don't think it's the first one. Because I like to have a little hope for people's levels of empathy, I enjoY the thought of the second, but the third seems plausible. I'd say as more children were killed in the name of this idea, he would just have to keep saying to himself, over and over, that it's "not that bad. they never got to see life; they never got to become anything. it's fine, this is fine, i'm doing it for my kingdom - for bugs that have had life and a right to enjoy it still."

The point I'm making is, I have a loT of thoughts of what he COULD be like that it all just sorta jumbles together in a confusing pile. I think he regrets his actions. I don't think it matters that he regrets it. I acknowledge the reasons behind it, and think that makes him morally grey (though leaning more toward... bad, if only for how drastic his actions were). I envision him as someone who put up a bit of a front for his people, as though nothing was wrong, everything was fine. Everyone seemed to believe that the Pale King was without any imperfections, so he probably presented himself as such.

That stress just added and piled when the Infection struck. People freaked out, begged him for help, he kept assuring that everything was fine without sharing what his plans to take care of it were.

Then the Hollow Knight was born, trained, grown, chained up and the infection was sealed. Guilt weighed heavy on the Pale King, but everything was fine. just like he had said it would be. He'd fixed it. He received praise, thanks, everything. He did awful, terrible, horrible things, but it's okay, because everything is fine. Then Infection broke out again. The Hollow Knight was not hollow. They weren't pure.

Everything is not fine.

Instead of trying again for another hollow knight, as that would be too draining and more innocent lives put to death (and/or the White lady had already fled to her retreat by this point), he simply gave up. Going into hiding, leaving his kingdom to fend for itself. He begins to realize the severity of his actions, but only barely. He failed his kingdom, he failed the White Lady, he failed himself, and he failed his children. Millions of lives lost in vain. What a tragedy.

So he spent his final moments in woe, caught between trying to justify himself and a rut of self-loathing for all he'd done.

I guess the line "No cost too great" could really be read either way, then. I dunno.

[yeojaa]

( GHOST IN MY BED. )

Sometimes, hating someone is the only thing you can do. 

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.

genre + rating.   rockstar!au.  e2l (exes n enemies!).  angst.  general.    

tags / warnings.  the angst is heavy in this chapter.  there’s also mentions of drunk driving, a reference to drug use, and really, just a lot of sadness.  proceed with caution! 

beta reader(s).  @hobi-gif​ and @periminkle​ i lob you both! 

wc.  2.8k

chapter one.

You’ve barely moved an inch, rooted to the spot by fear and sadness and three long years of distance.  It feels far too strange to be so close, to see him somewhere other than an illuminated screen.  You know you should say something, do something - anything - but every tired bone in your body is telling you to run and that’s something you can’t do.  Not after you’ve come so far. 

So you take a deep breath - deep as you can manage without bursting the dam that packs itself with flimsy sticks and stones - and step forward.  It feels monumental, far more than a single footfall. 

He’s watching you, carefully, as he’s always done, with awe written into every line still visible beneath bandages.  You see the way his jaw tenses, how the muscle works in agitation and hopelessness.  He’s holding himself back, much to your surprise.  You think you only recognize that because you know him so well.

And then you remember - you don’t know him at all.  Not anymore.

Because he might seem like the same boy you’ve loved for most of your life, but he’s nothing but a ghost now.  A figure from your worst nightmares, draped in white linen and gauze.  

His hair’s far longer than it’s ever been, sweeping over the sharp contours of his cheeks, past the singular scar he’d gotten in third grade.  It curls over his ears even in its dishevelled state, looking in desperate need of a cut and yet endearing all at once. The way he stares at you remains the same - intense, achingly familiar - and his smile - a little battered and bruised now - stretches like pavement, concrete and grounding.  

You hate that it does something to your heart, the delicate frame of your rib cage rattling with the way the organ nearly launches itself out of your throat and into his hands.

You take another step.  Jungkook doesn’t look away.  

“I missed you,”  he says, as if you’re an old friend, someone who’s come to hold his hand.  As if he hadn’t broken your heart into a million pieces and this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him since you managed to piece it back together.  

How you’d managed to rebuild yourself after that, you’re not sure.  You’d collected the broken bits, filled the cracks with gold, and mended it into something different.  A bit flawed and imperfect, but whole - stronger and illuminated.  You’d done that all on your own.

That doesn’t mean it doesn't still beat for him, just a little.  

A part of you aches to return his words.  It’s halfway off your tongue when you cut it off, severing it with a bite of your teeth and a resolve that just barely holds on.

You reach his side - still a good foot from the edge of the bed - and settle into the worn leather chair to his right.  It’s comfortable, surprisingly so, but you can’t find it in yourself to relax.  You’re ramrod straight, line of your spine strung like a bow.

It’s hard to look at him directly - to recognize the parts of him you’d once called yours - so you don’t, instead allowing your gaze to bounce across the room.  There are large bouquets of flowers against the few surfaces, all larger-than-life arrangements that look at odds with the barren body that’s laid up beside you.  You wonder, idly, who they’re from.  Friends?  Family?  Your heart stutters.  Fans?

There’s a bag and personal effects on the couch.  Black leather, exorbitantly expensive, embossed with his initials on the interior pocket.  The gift you’d gotten him for your last anniversary - the same one he’d nearly lost on tour despite the fact that it cost you more than you’d have cared to admit.  Something like anger simmers in your stomach at the sight of it.

When he speaks again, you’re still glaring at the bag, unable to tear your eyes from the supple material and all the memories it carries.  

“Pumpkin?”  

The nickname tears you from your reverie.  You can’t help the way you suddenly stare at him - all wide-eyed surprise.  “What?”

Something close to relief floods his expression, spilling like wet paint over the curve of his mouth, the corners of his eyes.  It spreads delight into every inch, unrelenting and unrepentant.  “I said I missed you, Pumpkin.”  He repeats himself not because you haven’t heard him but because he wants that reaction again - the one that tells him everything he needs to know.

You resent him for it.    

“Please don’t call me that.”  You wish it were stronger - that you were stronger.  It’s hard.

You know you shouldn’t love him anymore and that none of this should affect you.  After all, he’d thrown your heart into a blender with three shots of vodka and chased it down with some pills and cigarette smoke.  He’d filled all the space you’d given him with other things - riches and women and thin white lines - and he’d had the audacity to be surprised when your own sadness had slipped in, too. 

He’d always imagined you’d keep it locked up, held so closely he’d never have to face it.  You’d thought so to, really.  Hadn’t expected the way it spilled out regardless, too much misery to be kept in a little glass house. 

There was only so much you could take before it all came crumbling down. 

So, it’s hard.  You love him because he’s him and you’re you and that means more than you can possibly put into words.

“Don’t call you what?”  It’s almost patronizing, like he can’t quite believe his ears.  

“You know what.”

He scoffs - a low, broken sound that catches halfway out, muffled by chain-smoking and not nearly enough sleep.  “You never used to have a problem with it.”

“We were together then,”  you retort quietly, sandpaper grit and burnt coffee bitter. 

“Just tossing me aside then?”  

You’re not quite sure where he pulls it from - the sheer, idiotic confidence he somehow fits into his words, framing them like you’re in the wrong.  You wonder if it comes from years in the spotlight because it certainly wasn’t there before. 

“Don’t say it like that.”  What’s meant to be reproachful comes almost pleading, soft and sad and stained with saltwater.  

“Then don’t tell me what to do.”

The silence that falls is paradoxical, miserable and fulfilling all at once.  

It hurts in the worst of ways, sparking from the tips of your toes to the tops of your ears.  It feels like being outlined in neon - vivid pain in shades of pink and green that burn through your veins.  Proverbial I told you so’s curl over your ankles and around your heart, little reminders that this is who he is now and every path would’ve led you here anyway.  Parallel lines meant to converge only once before diverging once more.

“I’m sorry.”   His apology feels infinite, as if it’s meant to make up for multitudes.  “I just…”

Nothing further comes.  You don’t know what you’d expected. 

“It’s fine,”  you say, even though it’s decidedly not fine.  Absolutely nothing about this was even remotely fine.  You weren’t even really sure why you’d agreed to come.  You were still working through all your reasonings, turning them on their heads in hopes of receiving an answer other than the glaringly obvious ones that spilt out like salt grains. 

“Is it?”  Something about how he speaks, how the question seems so small, prompts you to meet his eyes.  You wish you hadn’t.

There’s an infinite galaxy swirling in his irises, a million words he hasn’t spoken.  They beg to be loved regardless, to feel even a semblance of the warmth your smile had once offered.  It breaks your heart all over again, splitting it into pieces where the cracks and crevices haven’t quite fused together fully.

“I missed you, Pumpkin.”  You don’t have it in you to rebuff him.  Not when he reaches for you - a feeble gesture that pulls his figure close, entire bruised frame reassembling like a shuddering skeleton.  He’s starry-eyed and intoxicating, drawing you into the Jungkook-shaped supernova you’re helpless against.  “I missed you so fucking bad.”

“Jungkook.”  

His name sounds like it’s about to break apart just like your heart, shattering wide open into a thousand splintered fragments.  

“Please don’t do this.”  Not again, you think.  Not after all this time.

“I can’t,”  he says and it’s shipwrecks and car crashes, misery in the form of broken teeth and battered bones and endless blue in his eyes.  “I need you.  I need you.”

It doesn’t escape you that you’ve heard these words before.  You’d tucked that memory into the furthest corner, up and above your head in a shelf that you’d never touch.  You’d folded it away into the box labelled JEON JUNGKOOK and tried to forget about it.  You haven’t been able to.

It bursts out now, bouncing around your skull and in your ears - a feedback loop that won’t stop.

“Please.”  You try again.  

He’s gripping your hand so tightly - with a strength that feels far too much for someone only a day past a terrible accident - and it feels white hot and alive.  Where his skin touches, he burns candle wax and coaxing - honeyed and warm.  You imagine you’ll peel the drippings off later and be left with scars in the form of his hands.  You wonder just how much more you can take.

“Please.”  You try a third time.  It’s feeble, frayed from holding on too long and too tight.

He hears it just as well as you. 

“Stay with me.  I don’t have anyone else.”

A part of you wonders how true that is.  Surely, he had his family - his lovely parents that you’d practically considered your own.  You can’t imagine they’d leave him here to rot. 

Your resolve still crumbles, just a little, from the topmost pillar. 

Ever the opportunist, Jungkook watches the fall of your Roman empire with rapt attention, hopeful as a new god.  If only you weren’t so easy to read - full hand laid out on the table. 

“What happened?”  You pose the question in place of an agreement, words offered in the same instance you remove your hand - or try to, anyway.  It doesn’t get very far.  He seems adamant in keeping your fingers twined, knuckles stark white and riddled with tension.  You wonder if he’s oblivious to it or if he just doesn’t care.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

So focused on the way he holds you - claims you in the iron shackle that he deems he needs - you almost miss the way his features contort, rolling through a myriad of emotion before settling into a defensive mask.  

You hadn’t expected a bared soul or a confession of all his sins - you knew enough of them already - but you’d hoped for some semblance of honesty. 

By his expression, you wonder if you’ll even get that. 

“I was in an accident.”  It’s short, terse and held tightly between his teeth.  

You don’t mean it in any way but observational.  “I see that.” 

He still takes it the wrong way, scowl fitting like a glove.  It steels his jaw and hardens the line of his mouth, the moulting of purple over and around his eye doing little to hide the storm that grows in his stare.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You can feel a headache coming on - the first pinpricks of it just behind your eyes and at your temples.  It forms in bits and pieces, a silhouette of a man that burns your retinas and makes your grit your teeth. 

“Nothing, Kook.”  It comes far more tired than you expect it to, weighed down by something you can’t quite place.  It feels like you’ve run a marathon in this small room.  You wonder if this is what it’s always like - draining and miserable and reminiscent of the hell of tenth grade gym class.

“I’m sorry.”

How many times has he said that now?  Will it ever be enough?  For him?  For you?

You shake your head, a slow gesture that doesn’t really register at first.  You’re so used to appeasing him - even three years later - and it comes of its own accord, bobbing your neck on your shoulders like second nature.  You could hold it back, but you seem just as intent on repeating yourself as he does.  “It’s fine.”

Maybe this is what the two of you are destined for - two lost lovers stuck on a merry-go-round.  

“It’s not fine.”  He’s released your hand now - you try to ignore the sudden, overwhelming disappointment that crashes into you like a tidal wave - and uses the bruised, bandaged one of his own to scrub down the side of his face.  It’s a surprisingly tired gesture, as if all of a sudden the weight of his situation has settled on his shoulders.  You barely catch the words that fumble out next, hidden behind the palm of his hand and the ink that swirls over his ink.  “I just…”

You’re hopeful for a split second.  Hopeful that he might let you in, despite the fact that you know you shouldn’t even be knocking at that door. 

“I don’t want you to look at me differently.”  It comes so small, your heart clenches in your chest. 

Then you wonder - what had he done?

“I won’t.”  It’s not a promise but it sounds like one, filled with sunbeams and reassurance.  You wish you could offer it any other way, maybe with careful regard and just the right amount of distance.  Instead, you’re committed, poker chips piled high on green felt.  All or nothing.  You can’t help it.

“I fucked up.”  

For the first time, you see him as he was those years ago - full of promise and hope, eager for a taste of the unknown.  You see him as the Jeon Jungkook you’d known and loved, vulnerability threaded through all five feet ten inches of his frame.  

You want to help him.  You shouldn’t, but you do.  “You can tell me.” 

“We just finished the tour.”  Pride colours his answer in glimmering strands of gold, threads that glint as he speaks.  Charisma oozes out of every pore, shimmering like precious stones hidden behind his molars and within his stare.  It’s easy to understand how he’s done so well for himself.  “I was… celebrating.  You know.”  You certainly don’t, but you nod along regardless.  “Things got a little out of hand.”

His attention seems far away, focused on something you can’t see.  He continues carefully, cherry picking his words.  

“I probably shouldn’t have driven.  She—”  Everything comes to a stuttering halt, his doe-eyed stare suddenly finding yours with alarm.  “—I mean, they.  Uh.”  The damage is already done.  You can feel it taking root - that same hurt you’d felt creeping into your throat before you’d stepped foot into this space.  You swallow it down as best you can, tearing your gaze from his to train somewhere on the cotton that rests in his lap.

“Go on.”

He’s stuttering just a bit, because he can’t help it.  He knows he’s been caught.  You know he’s been caught.  Gone is the Jungkook you’d once known.  You see him for all he is yet again - a poor boy dressed in leather and lies.  It hurts far more than it should.  

“Uh.  W-w-we were in, uh, the car.”  The intensity of his gaze feels like two little laser beams.  You can practically feel them burning through the top of your head as you refuse to meet his eyes.  “I was— I was drunk and I didn’t— I didn’t see the other car.”

You’ve heard enough.  

You wonder if the way you’re staring at him now is the way he’d most feared.  It must be by how his face falls, crumples like a house made of playing cards.  

“I’m glad you’re okay.”  You mean it - really, you do - but that’s the only thing you can give him.  

For his and for your sake, you need to leave.  Now.

“Please remove me as your emergency contact.”  Your voice wobbles, falling apart as you speak.  You worry the tears will follow soon after.  You can barely make out his expression, the wetness crowding heavily along your lashes and turning everything into a strange amorphous blob.  

It’s getting harder to breathe the longer you stay.  Each step towards the door feels like your head on the chopping block.  Once you cross that threshold, it’ll be severed clean off.  You’ll leave your heart in this room, with this boy who hasn’t grown a single day in the last three years.

You think he must be speaking to you but you can’t make it out.  Everything’s muffled, like you’re underwater and about to drown.  It fills your ears and steals your senses, narrowing your focus to the polished steel door handle that’s just within reach.

“I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”  It’s all you can manage before the dam breaks and you’re throwing yourself into the hallway and the waiting arms of your brother.  You don’t know how to stop the noise that rips out of your throat, wet and desperate and barely coherent.  

Yoongi was right - you shouldn’t have come.

author note.  this was quite short but it didn’t feel right with another scene added to it.  the next chapters will move the story along a lot more.  ty for reading!  💖

tag list.  @jalexa83​ 

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Surrexit lingua vestra cattus

Thomas appears to be a friend, but he is a demon after all.

Pairing: demon!Thomas x reader

Word count: Abt 2k

A/N: The translations came from Google, so by any means, please correct my Latin. My idea for demons and their jobs is loosely based on Supernatural because I miss it so much 😭

Take Latin, they said.

It will be fun, they said.

As a senior, you thought taking a language class would somehow lighten your stressful workload, and you were wrong. Latin kicked your ass every single week.

“Why didn’t I take Spanish?”, you groaned, dropping your head on the desk

The dorm room was empty, save for the stressed-out senior studying for finals. Your roommate, the English major, breezed through all their courses with flying colors. Avery was a natural when it came to writing and criticizing your essays. They were sure to graduate at the top of the class. Y/N, on the other hand, struggled to conjugate daily activities in past tense. College may not have been too much of a stressor in life, but this semester has fucked you over in more ways than one. All you wanted to do was graduate on time and that meant for the next two semesters you had to take 18 credits.

With the final tomorrow, you knew relearning the information was a lost cause.

Can I go home and tell mom I failed? I will never hear the end of it.

I’ll have to sit through another lecture about switching majors.

The wayward thoughts took over, filling your head with how disappointed your family will be. You wrapped your arms around yourself, head dropped to your knees when you heard something hit the floor. To your left, a book managed to fall off the bookshelf, landing on its spine.

You took your time getting the open book off the floor and reading the bookmarked page. Who would have thought your precious roommate would also be interested in demonology? The page was in English except for one paragraph at the bottom written in Latin. You read it to yourself, wincing at your terrible pronunciation.

“I guess demons aren’t real after all”, you laughed to yourself as you placed the book back on the shelf

You turned on your heel, then ran into something solid.

“Who told you demons weren’t real, sweetheart?”

The figure braced himself for the scream that escaped your lips. It happened from time to time. Someone thought demon summoning was a joke, he showed up, then boom instant nightmare. The demon towered over you. He appeared to be in his thirties. The wild, but neat curls framing his face were enough to cover the bottom of his horns. He stared down at you with his pitch-black eyes, bored with your screams.

“Are you done yet?”, he scoffed, “I’m not that bad”

“You’re a demon”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. I’m no longer disgusted in the presence of humans…although I should be. Just gross and full of emotions”

The demon walked around your small dorm, looking the at the bookshelf before his eyes landed on the book you just put away. He immediately perked up and pulled it off the shelf.

“I can’t believe they still make copies of these. Are you a fan of mine?”, he stared at you with a suggestive quirk of his brow

“It’s not my book, and why would I be a fan of you?”

“Sure, it isn’t. It’s also my book. Had to get the word out somehow”

“Everything is already stressing me out. Why would I want to add a demon to the mix?”, you hissed

“To make your life less stressful. That is what we’re here for”

“A demon just steps in, makes your life better at no cost at all?”

The demon smirked as he took a seat on your roommate’s desk. He remained composed during your interrogation. Typically, the deals were quick. Everyone knew what they wanted, and he set the nonnegotiable price for their demands. This might take a little longer, but he was up for the challenge.

“You have a point. Nothing is free, sweetheart”

“Don’t call me that”

“Don’t call me demon”

“Aren’t you a demon?”

He paused for a moment, opening his mouth for a smart remark, yet it never came. A soft laugh came in its wake.

“Thomas. You can call me Thomas”

The name put you at ease, but only for a little while. You sighed as you sat on your bed, picking up your Latin notes again.

“…and you are?”

“A human that doesn’t need your help. Nothing is worth risking a deal with a dem—you. I can’t risk that”

“There’s nothing I can help you with?”

“No”, you stated with as much firmness you could muster. The room felt slightly warmer since Satan’s spawn appeared out of nowhere.

“Not even your Latin homework?”, Thomas grinned, watching your faux hostility crumble. He knew you needed his help, but he did not mind waiting for you to ask nicely.

“I’m studying for a final and no, you can’t”

“I’ve lived for over three centuries. I think I’ve picked up more than enough Latin in my lifetime. Why do you think it’s all in my book?”

“Why would I want your help?”

“Because you’ll fail without me”

“No, I won’t. Maybe. Who cares? I don’t need your help”

“Well”, he sighed as he stepped off the bed, “te visurum”

Thomas’s hand touched the doorknob. How bad can it be? Why is he willing to help you? If he apparated in your room, why did he need to use the door?

“For dramatic effect. Do you want my help or not? I know a trick or two to help you study”, he reasoned, aware that you were already screaming yes

“Fine, but this is time for studying. I don’t need any distractions”

Thomas was indeed a distraction.

He stopped after every three phrases to ask you about your studies, hometown, and why you summoned him in the first place. You did not strike him as the type of person to summon a demon unless they were desperate.

The space between the two of you were sparse. The longer he stayed, the warmer it felt. The thermostat in the room remained untouched since he arrived. For some reason, you felt your body warming up the longer he stayed around you. You sat up on the bed with your laptop in front of you, attempting to put some space between you. Thomas laid on his side, holding himself up with his elbow. Every time his horn brushed against your arm; your skin tingled, sending small trembles to places in your body you did not want to speak about.

“Do demons have tails too?”

“Does it look like I have a tail?”

“You have black eyes and eyes, I wouldn’t put it past you”, you smirked, “Don’t get an attitude with me, blame the internet”

“I can’t do anything about the internet taking artistic liberties for what we look like, but some of it is erroneous. Don’t need a tail or wings”

“What about your horns? What’s their purpose?”

Thomas grew silent. He never wondered why he needed his horns, dark eyes, or claws. They were just there. They were a part of him. It made people fear him whenever they crossed paths and easier to get what he wanted without threatening violence. Although he loved the latter, it made his life much easier. It did not take much for him to intimidate the strongest of men, but you seemed different. Besides the initial reaction, it appeared that there’s no part of you that feared him. If no one knew who he was, one would think you were talking to another human.

“Did I offend you or something?”, you asked, finally looking up from your notebook

“No”, Thomas blinked, “Not at all. It’s going to take more than that to offend me…”

“I’m still not giving you my name and I like a challenge”

Little did you know, so did he.  

“I’ve been living amongst demons for so long, I forgot that humans aren’t used to our appearance. It got pretty lonely down there, then I came here and not much changed”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone who won’t scream for the hills when they see you”, you giggled

“I may have found one already”, Thomas replied with a devious smirk, “I’m going to give you a little push. There’s no way you’re passing this class…”

Trying to look offended was no use. You knew you were not going to pass either, regardless if Thomas helped you or not. This was a lost cause, and you were back where you started. Thomas pulled himself off the bed, collecting his coat and fixing his hair.

“There is another way I can help you, darling”

You closed your laptop and notebook, moving to the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not making a deal with you”

“You don’t have to. I’ll help you pass, and you’ll give me nothing in return”

“Why?”

“Do you know how often college students ask me for penis enlargement? Not help with studying. Not passing a class or paying for tuition. But you? You’re different. I like you, which is why this one’s on me”

“You’re going to help me…for free?”

“I only want to help”, he said, offering up his hands in mock surrender, “Next time, you’ll know when you’re summoning a demon. Do you know how much danger you put yourself in? Also, I’ll be happy to know you passed that final because you’re bound to fail”

“Gee, thanks”

If he helps you pass, he may come back and renege on his offer. There is probably some fine print that says you will belong to him for all of eternity. On the other hand, no more nagging from your mother about your major.

“Fine, I accept”, you agree as you moved to shake his hand

“Oh sweetheart”, Thomas laughed, “You naïve little thing. You really are new to this. That’s not how we seal the deal”

Thomas took a step forward, stepping in between your legs. In that moment, you became painfully aware of the dampness between your thighs.

“A quick kiss, then we’re all done”

You allowed him to move closer. He placed his hands against your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Thomas took his time kissing you, nails ghosting above your collar bone. The gasp that escaped gave him space to slide his tongue in your mouth. You found your hands tangled in his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Thomas happily obliged, placing his hands on the mattress, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around his neck.

Thomas’s hands inched up your shirts as he left rough kisses on your neck. The moan you released when he bit down on the flesh made him weak. His fingers wrapped around your hair and gave a slight tug. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he pulled harder, trying to hold himself up with his cock pressed into your thigh. You became so pliant in a matter of moments. This was all he wanted.

Before his hands could reach your bra, the faint sound of keys rang from the other side of the door. Panicked, you pushed Thomas off you.

“See you soon Y/N”, he winked before disappearing

Avery walked in as you were picking their book off the floor. You were quickly pulling your shirt down and trying to fix your hair.

“Told you the book was good”, they smirked

“Can I borrow it for a little longer?”

“Sure”

The next morning you woke up with last night as a distant memory. You quizzed yourself on past and present tense while you showered and focused on your phrases as you got dressed. You knew you were going to pass, something about today just felt right.

You stepped out your dormitory and headed to class. Across the yard, one of your classmates called out to you.

“Y/L/N, want to walk together?”

There was no reason to say no, but when you opened your mouth to say yes, nothing came out. You tried over and over, but each time, your mouth moved, your voice failed to follow suit. You stood in the middle of the yard. Everything felt like it moved in slow motion. Thomas took something valuable to you, and you were none the wiser to his game.

You yanked the demon book from your backpack, intent on summoning the very demon you now despise. In the middle of the cover was a sticky note with a message that made your blood boil.

Quid est? Surrexit lingua vestra cattus

 te visurum - see you later

Quid est? Surrexit lingua vestra cattus - What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?

[its-sixxers]

Dragonsoul

To be dovahkiin does not come without cost. Tandreth reaches his limit. A little bit before Elder Knowledge.

It wasn’t infrequent that Idunn wondered how many dragons her predecessors had slain. Surely dozens - the creatures were all but wiped from the face of Tamriel, fallen so far from a race that once ruled earth and sky. 

Then why, she wondered, did her head feel as if it was about to burst after killing her twelfth?

With each soul absorbed the pounding against her skull worsened, as if the dovah were trying to physically escape her mind. After the last two kills, the pain overrode the euphoria that came with another ancient spirit entangled with her own. 

Perhaps she was weak, she thought. Perhaps the potency of Akatosh’s blood worsened with each generation. Perhaps she’d displeased Kyne in some way. Idunn didn’t know. All she knew was that it hurt - and she didn’t dare let anyone see it.

Tandreth had been unusually quiet since she’d lodged her warhammer into the dragon’s skull. That had been midday, just south of Dragon Bridge - the last thing he said to her was to remark on how conveniently the place was named. They’d made camp well into the Reach’s border, the river Karth flowing behind them - it was twilight, and still Tandreth hadn’t said a thing.

Usually he’d have rambled on until she was at the point of exhaustion - she’d congratulated him on his effectiveness as a sleep aid once, and by the way he grinned she realized that was precisely his point. Until her headaches had begun, she had to admit she slept better in his presence than she’d ever had alone.

Now the silence felt dangerous. 

Tandreth’s eyes caught the firelight, reflected it in a way that seemed to make it brighter. His gaze was focused on the flames, he made no move to begin cooking them their dinner (a duty he’d taken upon himself, declaring her cooking filling but boring). Idunn found herself watching him. It soothed the pang in her skull.

His eyes raised from the fire, and met hers. Idunn tried not to visibly startle when he spoke.

“Have you ever thought of letting someone else kill the dragons?”

It wasn’t the question she’d expected, after a whole day of silence. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled.

“No.” she answered truthfully. “Others can kill them, but not the right way. They’ll come back. It’s just buying time, while Alduin flies.” It was her turn to cast her gaze to the fire - so gentle, compared to the heat expelled from the beasts’ throats. She rubbed her hands together and held them out to the flames, suddenly tempted to thrust her palms into the coals. 

Tandreth didn’t look convinced, soldiering on. “There can be more than one dragonborn at a time, you said so yourself. It doesn’t follow bloodline. Maybe there’s someone else out there.” 

“If there is, they’re far away or hiding.” Idunn shook her head - the motion making her wince. “It’s me. For now. Maybe until I die.” The thought that had been glimmering in her mind since the pain had become too intense to ignore surfaced once again, and for the first time she put voice to it. “What if I’m the last?”

“Then you’ll have to live forever.” Tandreth replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m being serious.” Idunn sighed, letting her head fall into her hands to keep herself from placing them into the flame. “No one’s killed a dragon for centuries. No one’s killed more than one for… I don’t know. Much longer. I’ve killed twelve. You don’t see many old warriors for a reason.”

“You’re not a warrior, though.” he corrected her. “You don’t fight because you enjoy it. You do it because you have to.”

“You don’t hear of old heroes either.”

His smile faded. “You’re not allowed to die. It’d be a colossal waste of time.”

Idunn lifted her head and stared at him incredulously. “What?”

“You heard me.” Tandreth fetched a stick from the ground next to him and started prodding at the coals, sending more sparks flying into the air. “If you die, all the things I’ve bothered to remember won’t have been for anything. They’ll take up space in my head. Space I could use.” He was enunciating his words with the clarity Idunn had begun to associate with his being fearful - as if subconsciously trying to talk his way out of whatever plagued him. 

She felt heat rise to her cheeks, indignant. “What things have you bothered to remember?”

Tandreth looked at her with equal anger. “Your favorite thing to eat is smoked salmon, and you hate horker loaf. The scar on your eye was from when you tripped in the bush and caught a briar thorn. You cover the other one with your hair because it makes you uncomfortable when people look you in the eye. You keep trying to braid your hair the way I did once, and I can’t show you how because you’ll feel guilty for not remembering.” He rattled them off in a flurry, and each new fact about herself had Idunn’s posture growing stiffer. “You snore like a kitten and sneeze like an old man. You’re absolutely useless when you’re ill, and the only thing that helps is herbal tea your mother taught you to make.” Tandreth snapped the stick in two in his hands. “That’s not even a tenth of it. If you keep trying to kill those beasts -”

Somehow she found her voice in time to interrupt him, dumbstruck as she was. “I have to. There’s no one else.”

“There’s never anyone else!” Tandreth nearly shouted, rising to his feet and hurling the broken stick into the flames. A log collapsed from the impact, sending a shower of sparks upward. “What has this world done for you? What has Skyrim done for you?” He swept his hand to the east, over the river and the highlands. “The jarl so many of them follow killed your kin. Killing demigods doesn’t stop their scorn. Why should you die for them?”

Idunn tried not to wince as he shouted, her head giving another painful throb. “Because if I don’t try the world ends.”

“Says a mural on a wall. Prophecy isn’t concrete, Idunn.” Tandreth clenched his hands. “These people - the Blades we’re going to see, they’ve got you on the sacrificial altar. Have any of them ever asked you how you are? Do any of them notice?”

The question stung, for he knew the answer as well as she did - but she couldn’t dwell on it, for another question presented itself to her. “... notice what?”

Tandreth’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and soon his body followed. He sat down heavily onto the rock he’d perched himself on earlier. “You haven’t slept through the night in weeks.” he murmured, gaze now downcast. “You talk in your sleep, in that awful tongue. Your armor fits looser than it used to.”

“I’m fine, Tandreth.”

“No. Don’t you dare try to lie to me. Not after I’ve been honest.” Tandreth visibly swallowed, trying to douse his anger. “You’re terrible at it, besides.”

Idunn inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Alright. No, I’m not fine. My skull feels like it’s about to split open. Sometimes I see things that aren’t there.” It was her turn to stand - with her feet on the ground she felt firmer in her words. “But none of it matters. I can’t stop, Tandreth. I can’t have innocent blood on my hands.”

Slowly he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “And I can’t watch you die in front of me.” His voice was a whisper, now - a plea. “Idunn. Please don’t make me. If the Blades won’t help you, if the Greybeards can’t, perhaps the daedra -”

“I won’t taint a gift from Kyne by consorting with daedra.”

“Then Sheogorath’s the one you should talk to, since you’re willing to let it rot in a grave instead.”

“You don’t have to watch.” Idunn snapped, the pain in her head rising to a fever pitch - ringing like a struck bell. All she wanted was for it to stop, and that night Tandreth was only making it worse. “Go, then, if I’m so terrible to look at.”

That ignited his temper once more - but instead of the blazing inferno she’d expected, Tandreth’s reply was icy. “If what I say means so little, perhaps I will.”

All it did was make her angrier, and at last she lost her thread of composure. “Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?” she shouted. “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to dread every time a shadow crosses the sun, I hate having lives depending on me, but the world doesn’t give us what we want, and somehow I know what you can’t get through your bloody, stupid, selfish skull after decades. Go! Leave! You’ve been dying to do it for weeks.”

He looked as if she’d stabbed him - she recognized the initial flinch, then the slow look down at the wound though he had none. Then without a word he stood and lifted the flap to his tent, disappearing within.

All at once the cacophony in her mind stilled. Idunn sat by the fire until it burned down to embers, glaring expectantly at Tandreth’s tent every so often and certain he’d come forth to apologize. But he didn’t. The radiant heat grew colder, the night grew darker, and eventually she had to pour a bucket of river water over the dimmed coals before retiring to her own tent.

Somewhere in the dark, sleep found her. 

When she awoke and stepped out into the dawn, Tandreth’s tent was gone - and with it, its owner.

The ringing in her head returned, rippling like laughter.

[wingletblackbird]

My Complicated Thoughts on Merlin

I started watching Merlin because I’d seen a lot of posts about it on Tumblr and heard good things. I struggled to watch it once we got to Season 4 though. I don’t think I have ever experienced such a love/hate relationship with a series in my life. I’ve tried to figure out why I have so many mixed feelings. Writing this post is cathartic, and has led me to the ultimate conclusion that I am in love with the potential of this show, but I don’t actually like what we were given. 

The Portrayal of Oppression/Morgana’s Arc:

Morgana’s arc could have been way more interesting, but they skip over too much important character development that we needed to see. In the beginning we see that Morgana opposes Uther’s cruelty. She is portrayed as being compassionate. We sympathize with her plight, especially once she discovered she has magic. 

This leads to an interesting moral dilemma. Should Morgana simply assassinate the king? Is Merlin’s long-game with Arthur more effective or moral? Uther is killing innocents. A revolution might be considered just. 

Instead, extremely rapidly, Morgana is played as the bad guy simply because she has decided to betray Camelot. We see her slaughtering innocent people herself when she becomes Queen. Why this transition to becoming like Uther but with magic so quickly? It made sense for her to want to assassinate Uther. That does not immediately make her evil. That needed to be more gradual. I saw the motivation for her hatred of Uther. But how she became evil, that is not portrayed well at all. 

We see hints of Morgana’s self-centeredness when she refuses to leave the Druids even knowing they’ll be slaughtered. Examine that streak. Show how a good cause can be corrupted by someone who becomes drunk on hate and power. The show tries, but it doesn’t quite get there. Show me that even a righteous cause can be led by a corrupted individual. 

Worse, the show does not show the nuance in any satisfying way. Show me that Morgana’s crusade against Uther and Arthur can actually be justified given that the law indicates that they would kill her and her kind. Morgana could legitimately consider Merlin a traitor. Her initial opposition to Uther is justified. He has committed and is committing genocide. Killing him could be seen as defense herself and other innocents. This could be opposed to Merlin’s bloodless coup, if you will. Which is the better option? What are the pros and cons?

And speaking of such oppressions, Merlin frees Freya and helps with Mordred. We really could have afforded to see more about how Merlin helps sorcerers escape, or about an underground network in general. How do they see Merlin? Do they hope he will influence the future king? Do they see him as a traitor? We see hints of this throughout the show such as with Gilli, but the writers never truly take it there. The story with Gilli ended up being about the corruption of power etc., and I liked it, but there was more to that story that needed to be addressed. Is it right or wrong for Merlin to defend Uther? Does it depend on the context? There are many times Merlin does that.

How Merlin Views Arthur:

Speaking of oppression, let’s talk about the effect it has on the psyche of Merlin. When we first meet Merlin, he has a strong moral compass, and confidence in his abilities. What he does not have is good self-esteem. He wonders if he’s a monster. He struggles because he is so powerful with something that is hated and can get him and his loved ones killed. Imagine the kind of fear that can creep into your soul when you have been watching people like you get executed since you were a child. Worse, you struggle to control your own abilities. You love your magic, maybe, but you also loathe yourself for the danger. 

Merlin, then, is a prime target for believing in Destiny. It’s nice to think he has a purpose in this after all. It is pretty clear that the Dragon is being manipulative. I don’t blame him after being trapped for decades. But Merlin is vulnerable and initially starts to protect Arthur because he needs to think he has a reason to be the way he is and is not a monster.

Having said that, I think we can say that Merlin does quickly come to love and respect Arthur. He believes that Arthur is a good man and will lead a good kingdom. All of these are good reasons to stay in his service. It is a good way to eventually show Arthur that magic can be good, to get a kingdom without oppression and the bloodshed of a revolution, and to protect a man he considers a friend. 

The problem with this is that by the end of the third season, Merlin’s double or triple motivation seems to narrow down in focus to simply protecting Arthur. Okay...but when are you going to have him see magic is good? I understand Merlin not being able to outright say anything because that might make him seem like a sympathizer, or just because of a lifetime of fear. But after all that subterfuge with Dragoon the Great and you can’t come up with a way to show magic doing something good without implicating yourself? Trust in Arthur’s character that you extol?

The fact is that by not revealing his magic to Arthur at the multiple different opportunities offered implies that Merlin does not in fact believe that Arthur is the man Merlin claims he is. I equally understand that growing up under that kind of oppression Merlin is not thinking straight. (Gaius does not help.) Furthermore, once you’ve risked your life to protect a man, it can become very hard to back out because you’ve already lost too much. It can also be hard to admit to secrecy after years of a relationship. But Merlin’s actions show that in the end, he does not trust Arthur, which is why he was supposed to have been protecting him. This suggests that Merlin is really just being emotionally manipulated. He has grown up in this oppression, and wants to believe his magic is good, and he has sacrificed too much, lost too much, at his point so he protects Arthur...even at the cost of other’s of his kind. 

If anything, Merlin goes from a kind-hearted boy who rescued people like Freya...to being willing to turn a blind eye to their suffering....!? Merlin goes from confident in the first season, with a clear moral compass...to being less so later on? When in theory, especially with Uther dead, he should be safer? More willing to take risks? 

There is another military aspect to consider as well. Morgana is a legitimate threat and without magic, Camelot cannot defend itself well. By not telling Arthur about his magic, or by not finding a way to make Arthur think about magic, Merlin is endangering everyone in Camelot. Arthur cannot defend his kingdom without the tools he needs. Merlin is now disrespecting his king, and making the decisions that are Arthur’s to make. How can Arthur command his armies without vital information? Merlin is powerful enough to be able to flee Camelot on the off chance Arthur tries to execute him. (In which case, maybe Merlin should join the other side.) He chooses to risk every life in Camelot rather than reveal his secret and help Arthur plan. That was acceptable for a minor coup when Morgana first took over. It’s not so great as the stakes progress.  Merlin was always willing to risk his life to do the right thing. And yet, when it counts the most, when Arthur is the one on the throne, he doesn’t?

This is never addressed in any satisfactory manner. 

Arthur’s Arc and Unfulfilled Expectations: 

This leads us to Arthur’s character arc. If Arthur’s character had shown Merlin the same respect in later seasons as in the first couple, I don’t think Merlin would have been placed in the position of having to truly betray his kind or indicate his trust in Arthur was wrong. Arthur even early in their relationship, like with Valiant, listens to Merlin. However, in later seasons, after so many years of faithful service, (and being right), Arthur is quick to dismiss him. (And then even that might get reversed in a dime...what are the writers thinking?) Of everyone from the knights to Gwen, Merlin is afforded the least recognition or respect it feels like at times.

Arthur also in the beginning showed concern for his friend. Additionally, he showed great concern in his own constipated way for Merlin’s feelings when he was down. Not so much in the later years... Why?

Moreover, has Arthur really learned to treat everyone as equals? Or only the one’s who have done something for him?

I don’t blame Arthur for his stance on magic much, because he has little reason to believe otherwise. However, in the earlier seasons we see him defying his father over things like killing Mordred, a child. Yet, in later seasons, he never seems able to step out of his father’s shadow. Never seems to truly realize how abysmal his father’s rule was. The Arthur of the early seasons ought to have grown enough to be able to do that, and therefore safely allow magic again. This does not happen. He is shown as being devastated by what he did to the druids...is this ever followed up on? 

This leads into unfulfilled expectations. Arthur was supposed to usher in a period of peace. Did he? No. And no matter what Kilgharrah says, I’m not buying it. If they had framed Kilgharrah as lying about that and manipulating poor Merlin for revenge, it would have made for a dreadful tragedy. As it is, it’s just a huge let down. If they had shown Merlin to be a tragic victim of oppression and manipulation who ended up not serving the man he thought he was...it would have been horrifying but interesting. As it is, I just hate it. 

Why would I want to watch someone who has been oppressed and threatened with death, lose everything to protect what he hoped would be his friend and his freedom, only to have to live with just being used? And be told that eventually, if you wait long enough, then you will have succeeded? That this was a good thing?! Is framed as a good thing? NO! I was sold a story about a man in a position of power being befriended by a man who has been oppressed. The man in power learns from his friend and becomes a man who helps liberate the oppressed. Together they create a better world. Eventually, the man in power dies tragically and we all cry. Instead I got this absolute garbage.  

I can see why Merlin’s fandom is so prolific. It is perfect for fanfic, because we have an interesting premise and interesting characters, but god-awful canon-writing. BBC Merlin is garbage with potential.