#the passage of time isn't clear it seems like it happens over the course of like a day???

[eyes1nthewoods]

watched nimona. it was ok.

[geneticcatalyst]

as promised, an exploration of my one pet problem in fandom, or: misinterpretation of jby's first death (ft. zzs)

heres the thing. i occasionally see people reference what seems to be a misconception of the (english translation) text in qi ye. both the fact that its a translation and the metaphorical phrasing make it pretty clear to see why they got the wrong idea, but i firmly believe its still the wrong idea. i am by no means calling the people who got this mixed up dumb or bad, i am simply leaning over their shoulders going 'wait no bestie pls read that again pls read that one more time!!' because this is one of my favorite books and this thing is a key piece of one of my favorite things about it.

i said i was gonna pull screenshots for this post but i think it will be a little while before i get to another reread and i can't ctrl+f the google doc so im just gonna whip this out from memory. if anyone does have this particular passage on hand feel free to pop it in here. the rest of the context/explanations are just from my cursory research, im not chinese or a historian.

cards on the table. the only thing i love more than unhinged gay romances is unhinged platonic soul mates. its catnip to me. i go feral every goddamn time. and i havent stopped losing my mind about zhou zishu and jing beiyuan since that first qi ye scene. what do those guys have going on? not even sure they know but it's A Lot. ive got like 18 other unpublished drafts trying to work that out slash losing my fucking mind at the lengths they go to about each other. that relationship is at the center of both novels even if the spotlight isnt on it. so I admit that my readings are colored a bit by how much i like that they like each other!

which is why im shocked baffled and, ok, lightly salted, to see a few people make the claim that zishu (personally) tortured/killed beiyuan in his first life.

so what the text says is that after helian yi stopped trusting beiyuan (after su qingluan's accidental death), he was basically put to death. but even the emperor has to have a half decent reason to execute someone. the text describes these reasons- ten of them- as zhou zishu's masterpieces. it also refers to them as great shames to beiyuan's standing. what's happening is that helian yi has zishu frame beiyuan for treason or other betrayals against the emperor/the country. it isn't specific as to what, but it doesn't really matter, because its all fake and zishu is really good at his job. so yes, it is fair to say that zishu is the INSTRUMENT of beiyuan's death, but he didn't kill him, he just laid the groundwork.

the text goes on to another slightly confusing line where it says something to the effect of that when each of these accusations were read out in court, each line drew blood from jing beiyuan. that's a metaphor! it's just saying that his reputation was torn apart and ultimately his fate is sealed, despite the phrasing there are no literal injuries happening.

also, i may not have the timeline perfect on this part, but in zishu's introduction in the beginning of the novel, the narration tells us outright that while zishu is partially responsible for beiyuan's death, he was like. cool about it. in what seems to be the first and only time he ever steps out of line or goes against helian yi's command (!), after setting all this up but- if im remembering right- before the news actually breaks in court the next day, zishu warns beiyuan. now this admittedly doesnt do a whole lot because the only other possible option (cut and run) isn't a very good one, but it's the only thing zishu can do. he doesnt have to, but he does it anyway (!). of course beiyuan doesnt even consider doing this, he's stubborn and heartbroken, but he really seems to 1. appreciate the risk zishu took here to try to give him a chance and 2. not hold the whole set up against zishu or take that bit personally.

so what actually happened at the end of beiyuan's first life? he was sent the 3 zhang of white silk. the text does explicitly say this once, but if you're not familiar with the practice it may not click. receiving the white silk from the emperor is what happens when you're too high ranking to execute like a commoner but you've fallen from grace and are being politely asked to hang yourself in order to clear your name. and of course beiyuan, stubborn and heartbroken, does. yes, it's a forced suicide, but it isn't a murder.

anyway, its in that secret conversation, where zishu secretly meets with beiyuan seemingly to try to convince him to save himself and beiyuan outright refuses, that beiyuan promises that if theres a next life (ha), they'll get drunk together. and of course against all odds, there is and they do.

the thing about the idea that some people might think that zishu killed beiyuan is that after that nothing between them makes sense. even if it was at helian yi's request, i just cant see that not permanently damaging the friendship, i don't think beiyuan could immediately pick back up being best friends in the seventh life with that memory in the way. why would zishu go out of his way to warn beiyuan one day if he was perfectly capable and fine with killing him the next? why would beiyuan not only be happy to meet zishu again in the seventh life but also go out of his way trying to save zishu's? none of their other interactions really make sense if you believe there was a murder done there. idk. it clouds the whole throughline of the story which is that they have a bond!

i think maybe people think it is in character due to the other ruthless murders, and they're not wholly wrong, but that's the kicker for me. zishu will murder all kinds of innocents no questions asked, but he's suddenly trying to give an out to his coworker and drinking buddy? hello? thats insane, and that's the point.

furthermore, if you think maybe it would make sense for helian yi to have beiyuan violently killed (since it keeps fucking happening later), i actually have to become helian yi's lawyer for a moment here and say that that doesnt make sense either. helian yi is sitting on a throne gained by shadowy means but he's the Good Guy Ruler and that reputation is important. hes not a cruel person and he may have become paranoid but he still has a shared history with beiyuan. plus, even the emperor has to abide by a certain amount of decorum when he wants to have people killed, especially when that person is also a high ranking member of court. beiyuan's status is basically second only to the royal bloodline, he's essentially the prev emperor's godson, as well as a previously close confidante of helian yi himself. the white silk was regarded as a privileged, dignified means of offing someone. helian yi is perfectly within social acceptability to do this to beiyuan with the pretext of beiyuan's disgrace. but it would be pushing the boundaries for the good and just emperor to suddenly have one of his top advisors and members of high nobility brutally killed like a common criminal. he could probably do it, but it would reflect on him and his reputation too. he could do it in secret, but would have to cover up the disappearance of a prominent court figure. it just makes sense to use the white silk as the neatest, most acceptable legal justice channel here. maintain emotional detachment, be polite, everybody's honor gets honored and such.

so that's the ted talk. theres even some beautiful fanart on here of white-haired first life beiyuan holding the white silk! he wasn't tortured or outright executed, and he chose to obey rather than escape or fight the false claims of treason even though his friend tried to give him the only out he could manage. to interpret things differently really skews the character motivations and plot for everyone- beiyuan, zishu, helian yi- in a way that warps the story out of believability, imho.

[velidewrites]

When the High Lord of Spring's bargain with Amarantha fails, Rhysand escapes the Deceiver's prison and runs to the Mortal Lands.

Intent on killing a faerie out of the hatred in her heart, Feyre spends the night hunting in the wintry woods. She doesn't expect to find a man there - the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

Pairing: Feyre x Rhysand

Word Count: 3071

Notes: Based on this prompt from @ablogofbipanic: "Going home isn't an option anymore."

Read on AO3

The sky was a veil of shadows, thick and heavy over the forest. They cast a darkness more somber than usual—it seemed that even the stars had hidden away in its presence, their shimmering glow nowhere in sight. From down here, Feyre couldn’t even see the moon, its silvery light dimmed by the snow-capped trees towering high overground.

It made the hunt much more difficult.

She must have been roaming the ice-clad paths for hours now, her back sore from slipping too many times to count. She’d always made a point to return to the cottage before nightfall—she’d heard too many stories of those who lost themselves to the darkness to risk overstaying her welcome. But winter had finally arrived to the mortal lands, tightening its frigid grip around Feyre’s village and the hollow stomachs of everyone who had the displeasure of inhabiting it. And so, when the orange-and-lilac palette of the dusk shifted into a murky grey, and Feyre’s hunting bag remained as empty as it had been earlier in the afternoon, she was left with no choice but to stay.

It wasn’t her first time spending the night in the forest, though if she were honest, her experience gave her little comfort. She’d been thirteen when she got lost in the labyrinth of snow and ice, when the dark had woven her into its thread and refused to let go. Feyre remembered little of it.

She did remember the Wall, though.

Somehow, she’d found her way there, despite it being buried so deep in the woods that some of the villagers had begun to call it a myth. Yet there it stood, a fortress of hardened wind, glistening with the faintest of lights as it shielded her from the horrors that laid ahead. Feyre had been a fool then—or perhaps simply a child—so she’d approached it, her steps wobbly with exhaustion and fear but curious to catch a glance of the magic she knew hid somewhere out there.

Its tangy scent had hit her first—almost metallic, like the iron they’d told her to wear as a protective charm. It made sense, for a thing so cruel and unyielding to leave a bitter taste on her tongue. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected any better.

She’d been about to leave, too repulsed by what she’d found, when she saw it.

Something she would never forget until the very day she died.

A pair of emerald eyes, staring right back at her.

It should have been impossible to make out their colour in the darkest hours of the night, with the magic separating them—and yet they glinted clear as the jewels she remembered seeing in her mother’s vanity, in the house she thought she’d never thought she’d have to say goodbye too. Those eyes reminded her of the rolling green hills that sprawled on the horizon over the village, their lush scent carried by the springtime breeze.

Those eyes belonged to a beast.

It had been years, but Feyre still remembered its claws as they dug into the ground—as though trying to carve a passage through the ground. A passage that would get it to her—one that would let this creature bury its sharp teeth in her neck, let it pierce her body on its serpentine horns, let it feel her blood sink into its golden fur and stain it with her death.

Feyre had never run faster.

She didn’t remember much of what happened after—she’d left her bow behind and hadn’t heard the end of it from Nesta for days. She never made that same mistake again, careful to mark her trail until the forest’s treacherous layout was well molded into her head. Until tonight, of course.

Tonight, she got lost again.

She’d thought she saw a rabbit—a pathetic excuse of a dinner, but a dinner nonetheless—and followed it without thinking, without the time to mark the bark of one of the trees with the blood she’d kept from her last hunt. The little animal escaped before she managed to make it her prey, leaving her empty-handed and in the middle of a clearing she’d never seen before.

Feyre could only hope the Wall was far away. She’d been hearing whispers about cracks in the impenetrable shield—cracks large enough to tempt the uninvited to slip through. Two weeks ago, Clare Beddor had gone into the forest to pick up some berries—her family just as starved by winter and hopeless and Feyre’s own—only to never return. No one had searched for her body, and not because hope had left them, too— but because they all knew there was no body left to be found.

The Children of the Blessed, naturally, had explained it as a miracle—a blessing, even, that the creatures beyond the Wall had deemed one of them worthy enough to join their kingdom. They talked of infinite riches and passionate lovers, awaiting Clare on the other side, seemingly under the impression that the faerie would worship her—the same way the Children worshipped them.

They were even bigger fools than Feyre.

Clare was dead, and she died in broad daylight. Those monsters didn’t care about consequences, about retribution, for there was none—for they could kill them as they pleased now, with the Wall no longer intact.

At times, Feyre wished she could kill a faerie. Not for a meal, not for hunting practice as she did with the squirrels—but for the pure satisfaction of it. Perhaps, if she somehow got out of this mess, she would one day get to do it. The bow she’d replaced her lost one with wasn’t nearly as springy as the original, but she reckoned one ash arrow would be enough to do the job. She’d been saving one for such an occasion—had bought it on her fifteenth birthday, when she’d gathered enough gold marks to make such purchase. She’d begun saving the money the day after she saw the beast.

As if on instinct, her hand reached out to the quiver strapped to her back, making sure the arrow was, in fact, still there. Still ready to make the kill if necessary. Her shoulders nearly sagged with relief as her fingers brushed the rough, prickly wings of the weapon.

Something rustled in the distance, and within seconds, the ash arrow no longer rested in her quiver—it laid on the bowstring, aimed at the bushes ahead.

Her body eased into her stance despite her thundering heart, and Feyre had never been more grateful for the steadiness of her hands even in the shivery cold. She wasn’t alone anymore, she had never been more certain of anything in her life—and she was pretty sure it was not the rabbit.

Was it the beast, returning for her after all those years? Would it pin her to the ground, ready to lay claim to her as punishment for daring to look upon its terrifying face, for witnessing its magic? Would it kill her now, or take it to its lands, fertilise them with her blood like they did with Clare Beddor?

It hit her, then—she was never coming back.

The hand on her bow trembled.

And then, the leaves rustled again.

Whatever emerged from between them, it was cloaked in shadows, as thick and swirling as the night, but Feyre knew this darkness did not come from the sky—it came from this, this nebula of grim, arcane magic.

It came…from him.

He came into view when the darkness slithered back, revealing his figure inch by inch until it pooled at his feet, a pet waiting for the instructions from his master. They curled over the soft piles of snow, cracking the thin sheet of ice beneath it, as though the darkness didn’t enjoy the wintry cold, either.

Perhaps, Feyre thought, it was the one thing they had in common.

For reasons she couldn’t quite discern, the stranger stepped forward then—a half step, really, but close enough for their gazes to meet at last.

Feyre held her breath.

The darkness was indeed a man—the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

It must have been a trick—a trick, because even though he himself looked immaculate, the shadows at his feet were tainted by that same, metallic tinge that made her lips twist in distaste. It was possible that whoever this creature was, it had veiled itself in this form thinking it would please her—thinking it would make her lower her bow, maybe even fall to her knees.

Feyre would not be a fool again.

“Who are you,” she said, a demand more than a question.

The man’s eyes glimmered as she spoke, and Feyre noticed that, in the darkest of nights, their deep blue shone almost violet.

“Help me,” he rasped.

And then, he collapsed.

It surprised her enough that a gasp tore free from her throat, her grip on her bow lighter. Was he…dead?

Blood—crimson, just like her own—splattered on the snow, the darkness skidding back at the impact of his body hitting the ground. She had never seen a man so large—tall and strong, like the warriors from the legends the village elders often spoke of. War-hardened—from a different time.

He did not move—didn’t even twitch as he laid there on the ground—and Feyre started to think that maybe, this was not really a trick. That maybe, just maybe, that was a real man dying right in front her. That she was simply standing there, watching and letting it happen.

Her bow dropped to the snow, and Feyre lunged.

She was at his side in an instant, his face turned in the other direction and preventing her from assessing the damage. A broken nose, likely. A splintered lip, perhaps. What had battered him so immensely?

Gods, he really was not moving at all. Was it truly too late?

Slowly, Feyre placed her hand on his shoulder, clad in a fine, black jacket lined with a silver thread. Whoever he was, he must have come from wealth Feyre hadn’t even known in the old days, when she was only a child, unaware of the forest and the dangers within.

This man didn’t seem dangerous, though. Aside from the darkness, of course—but the night-like magic that had previously seemed to cling to every inch of his golden-brown skin was now resting a feet away, as though content to observe her efforts.

Feyre swiped her thumb over the velvety fabric, and the man stirred.

“You’re not dead,” she breathed.

A low, stifled groan escaped him, and he turned his face to her, the black waves of his hair shifting with the movement and revealing a long, arched ear.

Feyre yanked her hand away.

“You’re High Fae,” she said, the sound no more than a whisper on her lips.

“I—” he hissed, those violet eyes squeezing shut at whatever pain the word had caused him, “I won’t hurt you.”

Feyre looked at him, so bloodied and pathetic on the ground, and considered. Faeries couldn’t lie. Was he injured enough that the thought of killing her had not even crossed his mind?

With another, deep groan, the man’s fingers dug into the ground as he attempted to pull himself up.

She spoke before she could re-think just how much she was about to risk. “Wait.” He looked at her again, his stare glazed by pain. “You’re hurt. Let me—let me help you,” she offered, lacing her arm under his.

Surprisingly, he was warm. She didn’t expect the contact to feel so…normal. Truthfully, Feyre wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting.

He was heavy, too, as though the weight he was carrying was not that of his body, but the entire world. She had never seen someone yield to another so easily—he hadn’t even flinched when she touched him. Feyre began wondering if the torment she saw in his eyes was not really pain, but resignation.

“What happened to you?” She didn’t realise she said the words out loud.

Now on his knees and little over eye-level with Feyre, he finally loosed a breath. “That bad?” he asked.

Feyre blinked. “Are you seriously asking me that right now?” She gestured to the blood dripping down his nose, his sharp jaw, flooding the countless cuts over his neck. “You look like you’d just lost a battle.”

A shadow passed over that beautiful face. “You have no idea how right you are,” he said quietly.

At that, she had no idea what to say.

“They will heal in a moment,” he continued, waving a hand to his injuries as though they were nothing. “It is taking longer than usual, though. I apologise you have to witness this.”

“I don’t have to witness anything,” Feyre countered, suddenly very aware she’d left her bow in the snow a few feet behind. “I could leave you here right now.”

He surveyed her for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her face before landing on her eyes again. “Indeed you could.”

And yet, Feyre remained in place.

“Why are you…” she started, unsure what to even ask. Why are you injured? Why are you apologising?

Why are you here?

“It’s not my injuries that cause me pain,” he explained, as if she’d somehow shouted her thoughts at him, “but my magic. Winnowing over the Wall is no easy task—even for me.”

Feyre’s brows knitted. “Winnowing?”

“Forgive me.” He cleared his throat. “I…travelled over here. Using my magic. What’s left of it, anyway.”

“I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, and Feyre noticed the crooked bump of his broken nose had miraculously managed to straighten, the drying blood the only proof of the now nonexistent injury.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s my fault, I…” he sighed deeply. “I didn’t expect to see anyone in the woods at this hour.”

Feyre dared to ask, “Did you slip through the cracks in the Wall?”

His jaw clenched slightly. “I escaped.”

Escaped? High Fae were supposed to be the powerful ones—the mighty faerie lords, overseeing the creatures roaming the lands above the Wall. Who—what—was powerful enough to have battered him to such extent?

“You don’t want to know,” he said bitterly.

Feyre’s eyes widened. “You—” a cold chill shot down her spine at the realisation. “Get out of my head.”

The man sat now, his eyes closing as his hand reached to rub his temple. “I’m sorry—it’s not intentional,” he promised. “Your thoughts are so clear it feels like you’re throwing them right at me.”

Feyre swallowed hard. “You can do that?”

He nodded.

“Who are you?”

“I am High Fae.”

“No,” Feyre pressed. “Your name.”

His brows furrowed. “What does it matter to you?”

What did it matter? As far as Feyre was concerned, they were on her side of the wall, and this man’s magic was depleted enough that she was fairly certain he would not try to harm her. As soon as she’d made sure he lived through the rest of the night, strong enough to go back where he came from, she would be on her way. If, of course, she could find her way back.

His name was inconsequential. But, for some reason, hidden in a place so deep inside of her she hadn’t realised it existed before, Feyre wanted to know.

“Just…tell me.” Not a demand—not anymore.

Something changed in his eyes—a small shimmer, as though that fog of pain and hopelessness began to lift at her request.

“Rhysand,” he said, something hoarse creeping into his tone. “You…you can call me Rhys.”

“Rhys,” she mused, trying out the name on her tongue. She’d never heard it before, and she found she quite liked the way it sounded. “My name is Feyre.”

He hummed. “Feyre.”

She shivered, and this time, it had nothing to do with her fear.

“Thank you,” Rhys spoke again. He cleared his throat before he added, “For saving me.”

Feyre almost snorted. “I did nothing but lift you off the ground.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I’m not sure I would’ve pulled myself up again.”

A cold pit formed in her stomach at that, as if her own body dreaded the idea. “What…” she started again, fumbling through her response. “What happened? Across the Wall?”

Darkness swept over his face again, his tension rolling off of him in waves. “We’ve been deceived. All of us, every last one…” he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “There was a bargain, and I thought…” he continued, more to himself now than her, “I thought we’d be saved—I thought someone would come, but no one ever did. Forty-nine years…” Rhys whispered, his face wrenched in ache.

Quiet fell, his straining breath the only sound filling the midnight air. Feyre hesitated—what could she say when she understood so little?

But she told him, “You’re free now, though, aren’t you?” She tried to offer an encouraging smile. “You can go back home.”

His throat bobbed. “I’m afraid going home isn’t an option anymore.”

Feyre shuddered a breath.

They were both alone, it seemed.

“I…” she started. “I’m sorry.”

His laugh was a pained sound. “Don’t be. This—all of it—is my fault.”

Feyre considered. “You said you escaped, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“Well,” she said. “I don’t think you’d have survived if you were truly to blame.”

Rhysand stilled.

“I think that maybe, you have a role to play. That you’re here—that you’re still alive—to fulfil it.”

For a moment, there was only silence.

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time—as if she hadn’t just pulled him from his knees, hadn’t seen the true darkness within him and chosen to stay.

And he kept on looking, words seemingly beyond him, his violet gaze fixed on her and taking her all in.

So Feyre asked, “Are you able to get us out of here?”

Rhys blinked slowly. “What do you mean?”

“My cottage,” Feyre explained. “Is your magic able to take us there?”

He mulled over her words for a moment before nodding. “If you describe it to me, I’ll find a way.”

“Good.” Feyre rose to her feet and reached out a hand. “Let’s go home.”

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 110 - Under the Command of Evil Georgiou

Star Trek: Discovery - Season 1 Episode 15 - Will You Take My Hand?

Okay, We're now onto the Season 1 Finale of Discovery! I'm excited to see how we end this season out!

We open aboard Discovery with making quoting something about the nature of feart, and unfortunately I don't recognise it, so I'm just left with the Foreboding nature of the passage.

This Georgiou's command style is immediately noticeably Terran. I loved how tense the Bridge was during the opening sequence. Her absolute disdain for the Klingons, Saru, and later in the episode Ash Tyler, pushes all of the right buttons in my head, and I can't wait for her to get her comeuppance. She makes a few veiled references to how she eats Kelpians towards Saru, and it just made my skin crawl, and so did her calling Ash an "it" later on. Unfortunately however, there is not much the crew can do for now, as she's the only one who fully knows the plan.

After the intro Georgiou and Michael interrogate L'Rell about which landing site would be best for discovery. Of Course L'Rell doesn't talk, which launches Georgiou into a much more brutal method of getting the information out of her. That doesn't work either, and Michael calls that to a stop. I'm really glad that Michael is starting to realise that maybe this isn't the way to go. Michael then takes Georgiou to Ash, and since he has Voq's memories, he willingly gives over the information they want. We also get a bit of worldbuilding about Klingon history, just a bit about Kahless and how he defeated someone called Molor, who the Klingons seemed to have worshipped in a similar way to how they worship Kahless now. I really want to know more this, and I'm trying to piece together their culture from the little scraps I'm being given.

This episode from the get go is clearly about the clear difference between Imperial tactics and Federation Tactics, and whether or not the ends justify the means when it comes to Georgiou's brutality.

This episode is putting in a lot of work to undo the mistakes of the last few episodes surrounding Georgiou, and I am 100% here for it. The last couple episodes tried to make her too sympathetic, when she is a fascist dictator, but here she is written and portrayed in such a creepy slimey way, and it's definetly what they should have been doing from the get go. I've already mentioned her racism, but also in the way she interacts with the human crew. Her various threats towards Michael, and just general attitude towards Sylvia Tilly gives me shivers, and in this episode alone I think she's earned a spot among my favourite villains so far.

Discovery Makes it's jump into the caves of Kronos, and the ground crew, made up of Michael, Ash Sylvia and Georgiou exit into an Orion market to try and get the location of this shrine.

On a side note, the more even split among male and female Orion slaves makes the whole idea feel a lot less behind-the-scenes slimy than the Orions did in Enterprise, thankfully. Here it feels slimy in a way where it feels like it's supposed to feel slimy, and not just... whatever Enterprise was doing in it's Orion focus episode. Also I'm not going to pretend like the eye-candy isn't appreciated in my bisexual brain, it feels a lot less uncomfortable when it doesn't feel like exploitation.

Amongst the chaos of the market, we get a few good downtime scenes, particularly of Sylvia being an absolute fish out of water, and a really well written heart to heart between Ash and Michael, where we finally get the full details of what happened to Michael's Bio-parents. Her survivor's guilt over this trauma is an interesting angle, and the detail of her memory over her trauma is something I really want to see explored in the future, and it really adds a interesting layer with her relationship with Ash.

Tilly finds out that the Drone she's guarding isn't a drone, but a planet cracking bomb designed to make the planet uninhabitable, and unfortunately Georgiou has moved too fast for Discovery to do anything.

Thankfully, Discovery manages to talk Starfleet out of the plan, and fromt here it's just a matter of sending in Michael to convince Georgiou to stop, which turned out easier than expected. Discovery hands the Detonator over to L'Rell, and convinces her to step up as the Klingons leader, and end the war. Ash choses to go with him, meaning we'll need a new chief of Security again. His goodbye to Michael . Georgiou is then let free, and I'm hoping we'll see her again sooner rather than later, because she still has a lot fascisty stuff to answer for.

Michael's speech at the end as she obtains her official pardon, and the crew get their official commendations, was also a fantastic way to cap off the season. We're also given an absolute shocker of a cliffhanger, as Discovery picks up a distress call from the Enterprise, so I can't wait to see what that's about!

I really liked this finale. I was shaky going into it with how the previous episodes were treating Georgiou, but this more than made up for it. It really capped of the whole methods vs results theme the season was going for, and it was just generally fun. I enjoyed myself here.

I have a couple Short Treks which I'll cover in one post tomorrow, and then immediately onto Season 2!

[jyushi-thoughts]

have you watch the Takoyaki Party? how do you like it? I'm kinda satisfied cause I'm surprised by the descriptions about Totoko's growth😊she's such a nice girl who loves fish as always☺️☺️

OOC: I have! Funny you send me this ask, I was just about to talk about it on my main! EXTREMELY LONG RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Ahh what a sweet little movie.. While the wacky shenanigans are my favorite part of this show, I always still love a slice of life "nothing happens" kind of plot. And it couldn't have come at a better time honestly. I've been feeling like Totoko a lot lately.

As a character, Totoko hasn't really been focused on in depth very often, but it's clear that she's always had a problem with comparing herself to others. She always wants to be better than everyone else, and feels self conscious about it. She's also always trying to force herself into feminine stereotypes that don't really fit her personality or interests. It's nice to see that explored a little more here, though it's osomatsu san so they won't get too deep into it of course.

She's anxious at the pressure to become a "real adult" like Nyaa and her brother Fighting Yowai are. Specifically the focus here seems to be on having children. I mean when you really think about it, that's the supposed "end goal" of being what society says is a "proper adult" yknow? Especially for women. She's clearly feeling kinda behind when she's seeing Nyaa chan be an independent single mother, and now with her brother coming home with his wife and new baby. Totoko is nowhere near ready to be independent like that.

Sooo it's easier to just forget about real life for a while and hang out with the Matsus! They're always the same, ever since they were kids! They're not "real adults" either, but they seem to be carefree and having lots of fun every day! So everyone in town who has to work so hard, they can just party with the matsus for as long as they can!

The matsus are sorta anxious about their lack of independence too, but that feeling kinda lessened ever since season 1. It seems like over time they accepted it to the point where they're PROUD to be NEETS now, or at least apathetic to it. So to them, they don't really understand why everyone else wants the sleepover to last forever. Time stands still for them anyway.

Plus either way, while they are pressured by society to be "proper adults", it's kinda different for them as cis men. Totoko's focus on having children is something that comes with very different social expectations and baggage. Pretty much all women are expected to be mothers someday, and it can feel incredibly stifling and stressful when you know that there's a time limit on that. A time limit on finding a partner and settling down, thats terrible! Plus then, even when that happens, the idealized version is never the reality. At the party, everyone is so happy. The old guys are full of energy, and Nyaa's toddler is behaving as a perfect cute angel. But in the split second flashbacks at the end, we can see the tedium of their day to day jobs, Matsuyo coping with aging, the struggles Nyaa goes through to raise her baby alone, ...Dayon's cat dies or something.. idk

So isn't it easier to forget about that reality and hang around with the matsus, who always go at their own pace? That's way more fun!

I've also been thinking too, on a more personal level. Gosh this show is 8 years old. ITS 8 YEARS OLD!!! ITS IN THE THIRD GRADE! What a nightmare the passage of time is. So yeah I've been feeling like Totoko. And I'm sentimental about this show! For whatever reason, my brain decided to fixate on it for all this time.

The matsus were kinda my ambassadors to adulthood really. I just graduated highschool and was starting my first semester of college when I first watched this show. And the feeling of "oh god we're supposed to be adults but we don't know what we're doing!!" that went from being funny to WAY TOO RELATABLE super quickly. And man, back then I certainly didn't think id still be feeling that way after 8 years. I'll probably be feeling it forever. Buuut reality still goes on and time is passing, and we're all older and Nyaa chan's baby is a toddler now. But the matsus are the same, and for a little while we can forget about reality and party with them for a little while~!

Even if the matsus are reeeeeeallly sick of it..

And that reminds me of another thing too. When the matsus were like sick and dying and begging for sleep when the whole town was forcing them to keep partying... That.. was meta commentary right? Like, I can't interpret that any other way. Like the show writers are just trying to tell us that they're BURNT OUT. Which, let's be fair, that's understandable I guess. (I mean not to ME because I feel like the matsus have infinite stories they could be used for but. anyway.) If that's true, and the writers are just begging to let the matsus finally go to sleep. I'm kinda fine with it! I genuinely think that this movie is a PERFECT series finale. It brushes on the anxiety of adulthood that the show is known for, it gives a spotlight to the beloved side characters, and it feels like a nice calm little summary of the whole thing. We had a fun party with these guys, and we can go back and play with them whenever we get tired of being adults for a while.

...so yea! I liked it! :3

And I'll be ready in 20-30 years when they reboot it as Osomatsu-Ojiisan where the brothers are all middle aged lmao

[cosmosoracle]

"Here we are, all alone. So, what is it?"

Rasmia gazes at me with a knowing smile. I'm not hiding my hands as they clutch the scarf - I have been tightening my grip on it with every passing moment since the previous confrontation started, and now it may even look like I want to start wielding it in an offensive manner from a second to another. But we both know that's not the case; I'm just that eager to have my own scarf back.

"The last time I sealed a deal with you, when I saved Hoyt from the Faceless Demise curse... I tried to protect something from you. But after what happened yesterday, I know that I have to give this new chance at life everything I have, without any compromise. And to do that, I need to get back what is mine."

She narrows her eyes, giving a half nod to acknowledge my determination, even if something seems to poke at the back of her mind. "And what do you think I may be satisfied with in exchange of that?"

I gulp, thinking mt possibilities over one more time. I keep my eyes closed for a second, then I let the cloth go and speak my thoughts. "I either give you access to my experience on the other side, which I suppose you never had before... mind it, just access. I don't want to lose those informations. Or..." My voice becomes pained as I see familiar faces in front of me. "...one of my founding memories."

She seems to get lost in thought for a few moments, and it feels like the silence is prolonged for ages. When she talks again, she seems intrigued, to say the least. "You tempt me so much...! But you see. It is not often that I commit a mistake; because of it, today I welcomed you into my house in top shape and with the best intentions. So I'm not going to ask for what I really want... I'll go against my own interests, and avoid to claim that."

It's so ominous. My tentacles shift in position around me, curling up uncomfortably for a moment, then I relax them again and wait. It is clear that the witch isn't nearly done with her speech yet, and the feeling of dread starts to crawl up my spine.

"Before we continue with this conversation, however, I'm sure I owe you an explanation about why I didn't let you choose the boon with the others. All I have done so far was to make sure we were all even... and I already am even with you."

Of course, I'm not following her; my eyes open wider and my eyebrows are raised. She tilts her head and sits a little closer to the edge of the seat, so that she can lay both of her elbows on the desk and move her arms to accompany her monologue.

"Despite not liking the way I've been called for and used, I already did something for you. I tried to act like a... hm, how do they say... a good human being. Even if it wasn't you asking, but someone else; I organized everything and moved this entire plane, just for you." She turns to her side and she flicks her fingers, and one of the bookshelves slides on the floor, allowing a passage.

"Now you can come in."

"Was it... you...!?" I'm absolutely taken aback, and my heart is racing in my chest. I'm so confused, at first I almost start to think that she has something to do with the conversation that Pharasma had. But no, it cannot be - otherwise she wouldn't be interested in knowing about what happened there; so what is she talking about? All of this was done just for me, but it was asked by someone else. Very few people know about Rasmia and us... and even less are aware of her ways like we are thanks to Azemondeus...!!

The sound of steps erases any kind of guess I had in mind. I completely freeze, I cannot process this anymore. They're... light steps. Elegant. Now fast. And I see a familiar figure stopping little beyond the bookshelves, looking at Rasmia with concern, and then turning to me... and running.

Echo.

A tall man, half elf and half azarketi like me, with his intense blue skin and his golden irises swimming in deep blue. His wavy hair frames his sharp face loosely, while his webbed ears stretch back, inheriting features from both of his lineages. His fine clothing always made him look distinct in the context of Deadbridge, a pirate city whose economy got destroyed by the madness of the previous Counselor; but of course they suit him so. He's the Headmaster of the Iron School of Magic, and now the new Counselor of the Blue Marquis Jinny. He's exactly how I remembered him. It's him.

I'm out of words, almost scared of what I see and of the thousand of implications this whole situation can have. I look at him straight in the eyes, and he calls my name as he slows down in front of me, touching my face and inspecting me with worry. "Lia! Are you okay? You are real, are you not? This is not an illusion, she's not messing with me..."

He also seems as shocked as I am for the whole situation, while the witch balances our distress almost comically. She rolls her eyes and arches her back forward, looking intensely at us as she leans with a cheek on her fist, elbow pointed on the desk. "I already told you, she is fine."

But he doesn't seem to listen. He stares at me intensely, still holding me, and I still can't move an inch. "Are you okay?" He asks again, a little more firmly than before... and I know I have to force something out to reassure him, somehow..?

"I am alive... but... y-you... and it was... you?"

"...me?" He is obviously perplexed.

"What, what... what happened?! You, here... how..? How!?" I can barely form a sentence, and it doesn't seem to calm him down until he's done checking me over. My breath is short from the surprise; I can't bring myself to form an answer, but I cut the distances short between us the moment I manage to move and hug him so tight! Feeling his warmth, his scent, getting confirmed that I'm not dreaming either. On the other hand, he seems to relax a little bit to that reaction, placing a hand on my back and one on my head, letting me rest on his chest. He gives a sigh, slighty calmer; he offers half a smile, barely acknowledging our host.

"I... I lost you for a moment... When the Status spell was broken I tried to contact you without success, so I thought the worst happened, and..." he takes a breath, lightly regaining his composure and cupping my stained cheek. I'm crying in silence, terrified. "You named her so many times in front of me, I thought that it was enough of an extreme case to give this a try. At first, I received no answer, but then she came to visit me... in my office..."

And we both become pale to the fact. Echo's office is specifically enchanted to make sure that any attempt of scrying, locating or contacting from the outside is severely hindered unless wished for by him, but from how he's speaking and reacting, it doesn't seem to have taken her any effort to reach him just like that. We both turn to her with a mix of admiration and horror. I'm not too surprised by that; I'm more concerned about the fact that she went to see him personally to discuss how to arrange this meeting, finding a perfect chance to obtain anything she could want from him in return served on a silver plate. While Echo, of course, must still be bewildered at having invoked someone capable of bypassing his defenses so naturally, realizing first hand how powerful of a magician we always dealt with. To all of this, Rasmia responds with nonchalance, inspecting her nails. "I do have a name."

Echo gives half a nod, interdict, as if just realizing that he was speaking about her like a sort of alien entity so far. He's so shaken that I can glimpse at the young adult he actually is in proportion with his aging behind the usual composure of the expert diviner I got to know in the material plane. He clears his voice, then he turns back to me; I mirror his movement.

"Rasmia reached me eventually, saying something about having made an 'oopsie'... which made me lucky enough to get her attention. I wanted to get to you, because if you had died, I needed to be there for you. I didn't find the time to teach the Resurrection ritual to Zinnya..." he reminds himself, scratching the back of his head with regret. "...so, since I didn't know if anyone else around could bring you back at the moment, I asked her to bring me to you. She offered me the chance to come with her, even if not to bring me back..."

"For free."

I can't believe what I just heard. Once more, I glance at her, absolutely blown away. Her specification strikes me like lightning, incinerating my fears in an instant, leaving me completely defenseless to shock. She continues undisturbed. "This is the reason why the issue between us is already settled. And he keeps asking if you're not an illusion and if you're really fine, why doesn't he trust me... Haven't I been a decent human being?"

"This is... insane..! Thank you!"

"Yeah, don't get used to it," she retorts with irritation in her voice. "Make sure to not forget."

"...this is... crazy, Echo, we will need to talk about this at some point, but... Yes, I am fine, and very much alive. I'm so sorry I made you worry so, I'm not going anywhere..." I need some more time to put together everything that's been happening, and even if breathing here isn't necessary, I just need to get some time... some deep breaths... and he gives me all the time I need. It feels like a sacrilege to even think so, but this almost feels as stressful as my adventure in the afterlife. But this has such heartwarming consequences instead. Even just the sound of his voice.

"I'm just glad you're alive."

All of my tension in her regards has just faded, replaced by something far more important. Tears carry out of me the turmoil, the fear of him making crazy deals with her to come to me, the worry I still feel for him having left his safe haven to come and see him despite being searched for; the fear I had to have lost the chance to see him one more time. He keeps me close and leans with his chin over my head. I need a minute or so to return in control, in a way or another; when I look back up at him, he lowers his head to touch my forehead with his. He must also have left the doubts and fears behind, at least for now. I see his kindness, his affection. I feel his protection being set up over me again, the invisible presence behind my back, the Status spell I got so used to. I cup his cheeks as well, fixing a pair of curls behind his ear as well when he returns to look at me. He wipes my tears with his thumbs. I sigh...

"Did you... get my message, yesterday afternoon?"

He blinks, seemingly unaware. "No, I must have missed it... This place seems to cut any sort of connection with outside, I see... that must also be why none of my messages was sent," he adds with a murmur. I breath out with a smile, lightly shaking my head. To think that I had to build up the courage to say that by dying again... But right because of that, I'm not wasting any other occasion, ever again. I get on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. He always seems a little rigid when we share something of the sort, especially in front of others - I heard him back then in Deadbridge as he built up excuses in front of Loin, who had been foreseeing our confession for two weeks straight, and I also preferred to be discreet with everyone else and the only one who keeps poking me about this is Zinnya... But then he lets himself get carried too, and everything else around us disappears for a little.

"I said, I almost lost my chance to tell you this, and I'm sorry for it. I love you."

He gasps a moment, and I hear him stutter at first. "U-uh..." but then, he also gathers himself and gives me another quick kiss. "I love you too."

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 20 - Agatha's Memories (Part Two)

My official gif maker @abimess, thank you.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 20 - Part XX - Agatha's Memories (Part Two)

You don’t sleep for long, there is a sound of something breaking that makes you blink confusedly as you move on your bed.

Then you realize that it is the wood up your head that is moving, along with a red magic that you know very well.

You look forward, only to find Wanda with an impassive look on her face as she merges the bed into one.

“I’m sleeping with you from now on.” She says simply as she finishes, and you lay back on the mattress, not sure of what to say about that.

You hold your breath as you hear her taking off her shoes, changing to her pajamas next, staring on the roof of the tent as she does it.

She pulls the blanket to lie down, and then is mimicking your position.

"Would...would it be okay if I hugged you?" she asks after a moment, and you feel your heart race.

"I'd like that." You mumble clumsily, turning to the opposite side.

And it takes half a second for Wanda to wrap her arms around your waist, burying her face in your shoulders, inhaling your perfume and making you blush heavily.

Your legs entwine from underneath the comforter, and you feel more secure than you ever have before.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs against your skin. You think she is talking about what happened with the horcrux, and you just nod softly, but she repeats the apology against your ear, intertwining her hands in front of your belly, and you realize she is talking about everything.

"I love you." She confesses next, and you feel your eyes fill with tears.

The hug gets tighter, and you sink your face into the pillow, allowing yourself to cry.

And Wanda doesn't let go, even when you sob, and it takes a while, but you finally fall asleep. And when you do, she stays.

//-//-//-//

You woke up first. And you don’t wanna get up. Not when you have Wanda wrapped around you like this, your face buried her neck, as you both turned around during the night, and now your legs are completely entwined, and you are practically lying on top of her.

And all you do is sink even deeper against her body, sighing against her skin. She smells so good.

"-morning." She whispers hoarsely, still with her eyes closed, her hands around your body moving slowly against your back down and up, and you just murmur into her skin wishing you could stay in that moment forever.

"We should get up." Wanda says after a moment in silence, not seeming to really wish to do so.

"No, thank you." You retort and your voice comes out muffled against her neck, the vibration making her laugh.

"We need to darling, I think we have some lessons. "She says and you mumble softly, the curiosity to pursue the story Agatha was telling is enough to make you pull away.

But when you are about to let go of Wanda, she pulls on your forearm, and you look at her with confusion, but she moves forward and kisses you firmly.

It's slow, and soft. It makes you sigh, so you kiss her back, sinking right back onto the bed as her hands wrap around your hair to deepen the kiss.

When her tongue asks for passage, you see stars, melting under her touch. Wanda smiles against your lips, pulling you by the shoulders to lie on top of her.

But before you can do so, the sound of footsteps catches your attention, along with a soft hiss, and you grumble before pulling away.

Throwing your face back into the pillow, you try to calm your breathing and rapid heartbeat as Agatha strolls through the tent, until she comes to your room.

"Are the sleeping beauties going to get up, or should I bring coffee in bed?" She teases with her arms crossed as Wanda hides her smile as she notices your state. "You two know this isn't a honeymoon trip, right?"

"Stop being so bitter, Agatha." Wanda complains as she sits up. "We'll be right there."

"And a good day to us, ladies." The older witch retorts before leaving.

Wanda laughs softly, turning her attention back to you as you scramble up on the bed to sit down as well.

"How are you?" she asks, intertwining your hands on top of the mattress, and you let your gaze roam over her face, biting your lips against the urge to kiss her again.

"Fine." You murmur half hoarsely, from sleep or lust, Wanda will never know. "And you?"

"Better." She says with a nod, and you feel your heart race. Better with you here.

Wanda squeezes your hand before letting go, and she stands up, looking at you one last time before walking off toward the bathroom.

You sigh as you throw yourself back against the mattress, trying to push away the feeling of her tongue against yours and focus on the fact that you were even closer to completing your mission with one less horcrux to destroy.

//-//-//-//

“Where are we now?” You asked as you observed the surroundings. It’s the entrance of an old garage, in the corner of a city. But the real Agatha ignores your question as she guides you two inside, further into the memory.

Your dad, just a teen boy, maybe eighteen, is inside, working on a large machine, it seems that he was really a muggle mechanic, since there were cars all around, dismantled or not.

"Stark." It is Agatha from the memories who says, and startles your father slightly, who almost drops the screwdriver. But when he looks up, he smiles.

"Professor Harkness!" He says getting up, and wiping the grease on his apron quickly before greeting her. "You really did it!"

"I told you I would come." She says, and you are surprised at the affectionate way she looks at your father, "Look at you, Howard, you're so grown up."

Your father laughs, bowing his head softly. "Thank you, professor."

"I only say that because I've known you since you were a child." She humorously clarifies. "And now you are even growing a mustache. Tell me, do muggle girls like that sort of thing?"

Your father laughs with flushed cheeks, and Agatha follows him. Before they can say anything, there are voices and the sound of footsteps approaching, and soon, two people enter.

Wanda chokes softly next to you. "Mama."

You also recognized Magda, because you have seen pictures before. She had the same appearance as in the photos, and you were saddened by this, because she must have died not so long after this memory.

Erik stood beside her, wearing muggles like the woman next to him.

"Professor Harkness, you made it!" He greets politely, hurrying to shake the witch's hand as she smiles. "It's so good to see you again! This is Magda, my wife."

"It's a pleasure, dear."

The memory speeds up, you want to fight Agatha for cutting off Wanda's moment of seeing her mother properly, but the way Wanda strokes her thumb against your hand makes you give up saying anything.

The scene settles down in what you think is the apartment at the top of the garage where they were, all around a table, drinking beers.

"You guys know why I came all this way, don't you?" Agatha says, and seems to have just had a short pause in the conversation, as if everyone had been laughing before and suddenly got quiet. And the tension only increases with her comment.

Her father sighs, nodding. "There is no daily prophet here, but I have met some travelers. They are talking about a war, Agatha." He says worriedly. "But I want to hear it from you. Do you really think that could happen?"

Agatha gives a humorless laugh. "It's already happening." She says, placing her beer on the table, and straightening her posture. "The minister of magic waited too long. And now, this group, these so-called death walkers, or whatever ridiculous name they are thinking of trying, are everywhere. In the ministry, in the diagonal alley, in the Order."

Your father looks really upset, but you notice how uncomfortable Erik looks.

"And do you really think that's what they're after, Agatha?" He asks. "War. Do you think that's what the walkers are after?"

The teacher raises her eyebrow slightly. "What else could it be, besides chaos and complete destruction of our society, Erik?"

His former teacher is unaffected by the snickering, he just gives a half-hearted laugh. " Well, freedom of course." He says, clearing his throat softly. "See, that time we've been here. New York is fascinating. Things are bad for muggles it's true, but for the rest of us, damn. The wizards are doing just fine. They have so much magic here, so much freedom to study what they want. The ministry encourages the discovery of new areas, gives financial support to researchers!"

Agatha crosses her legs, listening to Erik's speech carefully.

When he realizes that he may be defending Mephisto's group too much, he pauses, straightening up. "I'm just trying to say that maybe a change in the British government is exactly what our society needs to evolve, Agatha."

"You know, when Fury told me he wanted to recruit you boys to the order, I told him that children don't fight wars." She declares and you see the boys widen their eyes. "You two know that Katherine is dead, right? That Nick took over leadership of the order in his mother's place, and the first names he wanted were yours."

Your father nods, as does Erik.

"Well, I didn't agree." She says. "I said I knew other wizards, more experienced, more trustworthy. Wizards who didn't flee their homeland to live the American dream."

"That's not-" Your father begins but the look in Agatha's eyes makes him shut up.

"Nick insisted that I come here." She continues. "He said that you have kept in touch by correspondence, and that you continue to have the same, what was the word, moral inclination. But now I wonder if he was really right about that."

"I didn't mean to say that the walkers are right!" Erik exclaims defensively, looking embarrassed, but Agatha just smiles.

"Don't worry, honey." She says as she leans in. "I think that kind of moral difference is exactly what makes this whole conflict interesting."

"That's sadistic of you, Agatha." Howard comments seriously. "We're talking about a war."

"Don't be hypocritical now, Howey." She retorts with a wicked smile. "You think I don't know who the travelers you've been talking to are? Say, the magical trafficking laws are simpler in America, aren't they?"

Your father locks his jaw, but keeps his face up.

"I did what I needed to do to survive here." He says simply, and Agatha laughs.

"Of course you did." She says. "So did we all. And now we have a potential battle ahead of us, something that could change the course of wizarding life for future generations. Tell me, do you intend to stand here fixing machines and pretending that your friends are not dying for your freedom? And I thought you were tired of this kind of attitude, golden boy."

Your father stands up, enraged. But he says nothing, and swallows his pride. He gives Erik one last look before leaving the room.

Agatha sighs softly, turning her attention back to Erik, who has his fists clenched in his lap.

"You know very well that the situation is not so simple." He says and Agatha smiles.

"And you know it's him don't you?" She retorts and Erik clenches his jaw.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you know very well, Erik." Agatha insists. "When I fired him, he didn't stay in England. He came to America with his favorite student."

"Keep your voice down." Erik quickly retorts, looking back a moment before leaning forward. "It's not what you think."

"But I don't think anything." She says. "I'm exactly giving you the chance to explain yourself, before I draw my own conclusions."

Erik takes a deep breath, and turns to Magda, squeezing her hands.

"Honey, can you give us a minute?" He asks, and Wanda's mother looks like she's going to say no, before nodding.

She walks off in the same direction as her father, and then Erik and Agatha are alone.

"Professor Faustus has asked me for support, Agatha." He says. "He was out of a job, and with his name tainted with rumors that no one has proven. And he never treated us badly, so I helped him."

"You kept this from Howard? I thought you were best friends." Agatha teases but Erik laughs humorlessly.

"Of course not." He says. "Who do you think paid for the tickets?"

"Interesting." She says. "Why tickets?"

"Because he was being investigated for the dark magic rumors." Erik says. "The ministry put a blocker on him. Any magic he tried to do would go straight to the minister's notes. And well, he needed Howey's help to remove the device from behind his neck."

"While he was hiding, I imagine he told you about his wonderful ideas."

"No, Agatha." He says. "Faustus just looked tired. And he felt betrayed, mostly by you. But in general, he complained, and studied. Howey and I would work all day, and he would stay in his room, among the magic books, unable to conjure anything, not even a light spell. I've never seen him so frustrated."

"I'd feel sorry for him, if that wasn't his fault." Agatha murmurs and Erik sighs in agreement.

"A few months after we arrived, Howey got it." Erik recounts. "Tivan gave him the materials he needed, and he freed Faustus from the blocking device in his skin. He thanked us, said he'd write, and then disappeared. We never heard from him again, but the letters from Fury started coming in the next months."

"Did Howard suspect?"

"No." Erik says squirming uncomfortably in his chair. "Howard trusted him, mostly because of the way he stood up for him in school. About supporting him to study mechanics, even if no one else would. But I knew I had to be smart after what happened with Raven."

"He tried to recruit you?"

Erik sighs. "No, Agatha. But he will."

"I know." She says. "That's why I came."

" I should have guessed that you don't make friendly visits, even to your best students."

Agatha laughs softly, leaning her arm on the carpet. "You think just because you can conjure a patronus you're my best student, Erik? I helped establish the order of merlin. You are not even remotely the most talented wizard I have taught."

"You are hurting my feelings." The man jokes, making the other woman smile.

"How will this work then, Erik?" She asks. "Are you going to accept Fury's offer? Or will you follow your heart?"

The man smiles, standing up. "That just concerns me, and my wife, don't you think?"

"Actually, no." Agatha retorts without sounding angry as Erik moves to collect the beer bottles and put them in the trash. "In fact, I think you even need to leave her."

Erik laughs in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"A muggle, Erik." She says as if it's obvious. "You're going to drag her into a war? That's cruel."

"Magda is stronger than you imagine."

"I'm sure she is." The witch says getting up as well. "But that is until she is hit by the first spell."

“Agatha, please.”

“Muggles can't handle magic like we can, Erik." She insists seriously. "You know that. A simple stupefy could kill her."

"I love her." He says turning away. "And I'm not going to England without her. If she decides to stay, then I will too."

"That's disappointing." Agatha comments, but Erik doesn't flinch, crossing his arms. The witch sighs. "Then do me a favor. Howard, at least he, needs to go. We can't afford to lose allies."

"I'll talk to him." Erik assures. "But you know that with all that his father has done, he doesn't want to go back to London anytime soon."

"This is so much bigger than a family feud." Agatha retorts. "Tell him that, and he'll feel guilty enough to accept it."

"Your mind games are wicked, professor." Erik says before nodding in agreement, leaving.

Agatha sighs, getting pensive.

Just then Magda walks back into the room.

"Miss Harkness?"

"Hello, dear."

"I just came to ask if you're going already? Erik looked upset, but I can walk you to the door. It's good manners."

The memory shakes until they are outside, and Magda leads her to the same place she should have appeared before.

"Please, before you go, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Magda hesitates, but takes a deep breath and says. "If Erik stays, what are the chances of this war reaching us?"

Agatha looks at the woman for a moment. "I don't think there is a way to escape what is happening in England, Magda. And if we lose, it's not just the witches who will suffer the consequences."

Magda nods in understanding, then steps forward. "Tell me how I can help you."

"He wouldn't approve, but I can't watch everything fall apart around us. Tell me how I can help."

Agatha smiles, touching Magda's shoulder. You hold your breath, as does Wanda, who also notices the magic in the witch's fingertips, and the purple color in her eyes.

"Leave him, dear." She says. "But it needs to be natural, okay? As best as I can, he must not suspect it was my idea. Erik would never put you in danger, but he wouldn't leave you alone either. So you need to end it all."

Magda has tears in her eyes, but she just nods mechanically. And the memory becomes blurred.

Wanda is tense beside her, and you are silent.

"That doesn't make sense." You mutter. "Carol told me that Magda was in Sokovia, and that-"

"She's not my mother, is she?" Wanda cuts you off, looking at the floor. The real Agatha sighs, as you look at the two in confusion.

"How could you tell?" She asks.

"I don't have her eyes."

It was a funny detail about the few pictures of Magda that Erik had in the Maximoff house. All the pictures were old, because they were from muggles. And they were never sharp enough in detail, just good enough for you to be able to recognize the woman in the recollection.

Agatha laughs softly. "Is that all Erik told you about your mother? That you had her eyes?"

Wanda squeezes your hand, and with the other she wipes her cheek.

"Just show me the truth at once, Agatha."

"As you wish."

//-//-//

You stumble gently as you get used to the dirt floor that has stabilized at your feet.

"Are you okay?" You whisper to Wanda, but she just nods, smiling weakly before looking back at the memory forming in your eyes.

You were startled by the bright lights in the sky, recognizing them immediately as wandering spells.

Someone just fought here, and it was no small fight.

"Agatha!" Erik shouted, approaching quickly, coming from the corner as if he had been hiding until now, and the teacher had emerged.

Wanda also held her breath as she noticed the large cut on his forehead, the blood dripping down his face.

"T-They've surrounded us..." He says breathlessly, his wand in fists as he stumbles to get closer. "We narrowly won and-"

"Calm down boy." Agatha says as she holds his shoulders, working quickly to heal his wounds. "Where are the others?"

"Further away." Erik replied visuvelmettely exhausted. You could tell he was a little older than the last memory, but he was still young. "Back to the mansion.

"Good, they' ll be safe there." She says as she helps Erik stand properly. "Where's Natalya?"

And Erik chokes, sobbing. You frown in confusion, and Agatha makes a pitying face.

"Oh, Erik."

He cried, shrugging. "She was.... She tried to gain ground. She hit four of them at once. But... But she-"

And he sobbed, and Agatha didn't insist, hugging him.

"I'm sorry, Erik." She whispered.

And the memory trembled until they were back on the mansion's dirt path, almost at the iron driveway, the man visibly calmer, though quite shaken.

"Erik, what about the children?" Agatha asks as she stops walking in front at the gate.

The man looks on the verge of tears again, but only sighs.

"I have no idea, Agatha." He says. "No place is safe in the UK anymore. I can't leave the order to look after them, I don't know what to do."

And Agatha looks at him a moment, before nodding. "I will help you."

You see many flashbacks of memories, Agatha greeting injured order members, then going back to write letters, and checking the news. You think you see flashes of fights too, big duels, before everything stabilizes again.

It's Magda in front of you, and she looks more mature too.

"Years ago, you asked me how I could help you." Agatha spoke behind you, and you startled yourself by jumping to the side, and watching intently as the witch touched Magda's hands. "You saved yourself by leaving him. But you will save his life and the rest of the wizarding world if you accept what I am about to ask of you."

Magda's eyes widened, but she nodded after a moment. Agatha waved her hands, and a cart approached you.

"Run away, Magda." She says. "Their mother had a house, enchanted to protect from invaders on a hill in a small country in Europe." Agatha explains as Magda lets out a surprised exclamation at the babies in the stroller.

"They... are beautiful." She whispers excitedly, touching the children with her fingers, who fall asleep innocently. "What happened, Agatha? Where is Erik?"

"The fight just got bigger, hon." She explains. "Much bigger than we ever expected. Your people are suffering too, but they're saying it's natural disasters."

Magda is shocked, but she speaks again. "Agatha, I am not a witch. I can't protect them."

"That's exactly why you can." Agatha retorts, taking the other woman's hands again. "Go to Sokovia. There are no witch communities there. Hide yourself, hide them. You have no idea how important it is to keep them safe."

"Tell me, then."

Agatha swallows dryly, and looks away from the babies. "It's only a legend, but it could change the fate of this war. The girl, Magda, is a powerful witch. A special kind, like her mother was."

"My god, she's just a child, Agatha."

"That's exactly why she needs to be protected." The witch retorts. " She' s fragile, like a crystal to be stolen. She must not be found, promise me you will protect her."

"I promise." She says nodding, but Agatha sighs, and her eyes turn purple, her grip increases.

"No matter what happens, Magda." She says. "You will protect them, do you understand?"

"Yes."

The memory shakes again, and this time, your father is in front of you, and you hold your breath, shocked to see him so close so suddenly.

“You’re a snake!” He accused angrly, but without any movement, his eyes were serious with his arms crossed.

You turn to realize he was talking to Agatha, in a room that had no windows.

“I was keeping them safe, Howard.” The woman said. “I don’t expect you to understand the feeling of desperation, because you have an armored mansion at your will.”

“You used Erik’s grief to manipulate him into believing in you!” He shouted. “I’m not asking you again, where are his children?”

Agatha laughs softly, looking at your father indignantly.

"Are you listening to yourself, Howey?" she teases. "Erik switched sides, accept that."

"Nat died on our side." He retorts. "She was my friend, my ally. And she trusted us to protect the twins, you had no right to hide them!"

"They are safe!" Agatha retorts, and looks at the man with a warning expression. "And I suggest you stop making such a scandal about it, Howard! You don't want Mephisto to find out about the girl's true nature. We're close enough to defeat already."

"This isn't about that stupid legend-"

"Isn't it?" Agatha interrupts with irony. "Then why only now? It's been weeks since I took them. I know exactly what you want with the twins, Howard. You want to see if it's true, if they really can change the war." She says approaching. "I will clear that up for you then, since you clearly have no knowledge at all on the subject. A scarlet witch is worthless until she reaches maturity. If you try to take the magic from the baby, you'll just get a victim. And I won't allow that to happen."

"I wasn't going to steal the child's magic, Agatha. Who do you think I am?"

"I don't give a damn who you say you are now, Stark." She retorts."Not to you, nor to Erik, who can't make up his mind whose side he's on."

Agatha moves to leave, clearly ending the conversation. But before she leaves, your father calls out to her.

"Why are you so committed to protecting them, Agatha?" He asks.

"Natalya was my family before she was an Auror, Howard."

As Agatha leaves, the memory fades, but you and Wanda are wide-eyed, confused by the latest revision.

And the ground is shaking at your feet, and you are being pulled back into consciousness.

//-/-//-//-//

You awaken last, stretching confusedly away from the tree you had leaned against as you sat on the ground to begin viewing the memories watched with the other women.

Wanda is already getting up, to find Agatha standing peacefully looking at the mountainous landscape ahead.

"So, what are you?" she asks the older witch.

Agatha sighs softly, without looking at Wanda.

"Natalya Maximoff was born in Romania, during the witch revolution in the country." She begins nostalgically, a short smile at the corner of her lips. "I found her shaking like a leaf, less than twelve weeks old inside a box of potatoes."

You are shocked, as is Wanda, but you just listen.

"I think her mother tried to hide her. But she got caught in the middle of it. Romania was in chaos at the time, it was a real bloodbath. "She says. "I was there to fight. The English ministry provided special witches to take on a wizard, known as Kang the Conqueror."

Agatha gives a humorless laugh, sounding upset.

"If you think Faustus is bad, it's because you've never met him." She counters. "He was a master nocramanter. He created an army of the living dead, the inferi. It was the worst fight I've ever been in. But we won, and he was killed. For real this time."

Agatha looked away from the landscape to look at Wanda.

"I bonded with the child, Miss Maximoff." She says. "I could have left her in that box, and gone on my way. But I took her in my arms, and only let her go when she was mature enough for that."

"And then?" Wanda asked with emotion in her voice, looking at Agatha with tears in her eyes.

"I found out that she was a scarlet sorceress, but unlike you, she never completed her forging." The witch says sadly. "She died at the age of 20, a year before she was going to do the spell."

Wanda looks down at her feet, crossing her arms as she absorbs the whole story. Agatha thinks this is a good opportunity to keep talking.

"The war was already over when I found Natalya." She says. "The village where I believe she was born had been destroyed in a shambles. And they put her in the box, while the British aurors were doing the stakeouts. I took her with me, I didn't tell anyone." She recounts. "When she turned eleven, I found out what she was. I taught her everything I could, but I didn't let her go to Hogwarts. I kept her at home, where she wouldn't put the students or herself in danger."

You bite the inside of your cheek, surprised that Agatha was able to hide a daughter. But honestly, it wasn't that shocking.

"When she turned 16, she started rebelling, you know how teenagers are." She says. "She left because she didn't agree with the way I saw the world. And I said I would be waiting for her to come back when she realized that only I could help her."

"But she didn't come back." Wanda completed and Agatha sighed, nodding.

"No, of course not," she says. "She moved to a muggle province, and built a house. And ran away from her fate until her power got too overwhelming."

"Did you look for her?" You ask, and Agatha nods in agreement, turning her gaze to the landscape.

"With the war, I wanted allies." She says. "And I really thought I could get to the house of the daughter I hadn't spoken to in years to ask her to fight for me."

"But she accepted, didn't she?" Wanda says and Agatha sighs.

"On her terms, yes." Answered the woman. "Your mother was a smart girl, Wanda. She made me swear under the best intentions."

And it takes a moment for Wanda to understand what was really being said.

"How?"

Agatha sighs, turning to you again. "I took a perpetual vow to do what was right. What would save lives, what she considered right." She explains. "But contract magic is so encompassing. Especially when you say ambiguous phrases like do the right thing, or stuff like that. That's why I was able to get around the spell so many times. That's why it shaped itself with her death."

"That's why you can't hurt Wanda." You conclude in a sigh.

Agatha nods. "The power of the Scarlet Sorceress has always been tempting. But I would never steal it from Natalya, she was my daughter." She says. "But you were just a student. And I wouldn't mind taking that responsibility out of your hands."

"Not even if I was her daughter?" Wanda asks in a mixture of disgust and indignation, but Agatha only gives a humorless laugh.

"Don't judge me so much." She retorts. "If I didn't care, you wouldn't even be alive. Least of all your girlfriend."

But Wanda steps away, putting herself in front of you.

"You didn't do this because you care." She accuses. "You did it because of the vow. Because you will die if you don't keep your words to her."

"Maybe." She says,shrugging. "But what matters is my actions, not motivations. Actions are all that matter in the end."

"I'm sick of this, Agatha." Wanda retorts indignantly. "You think you can say some philosophical shit and get rid of the things you've done? You manipulated my entire family, and you played with my destiny. I'd rather be alone than around you."

Wanda walks off at a brisk pace, and you follow her, not knowing exactly what to do.

Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to turn around and apologize.

Wanda begins to pack up very quickly, and you stare wide-eyed as she puts Godric's sword into her purse.

And soon you are outside.

"I told you I wouldn't forgive you if you crossed another line with me." She says. "But I realized that there's nothing more you can do besides all the bad things you've already done."

"If you expect me to apologize for keeping you alive so far, you are deluding yourself." Agatha retorts stubbornly, her arms crossed.

Wanda gives a humorless laugh, her hand interlacing hers. "I don't expect anything from you, Agatha. Even if you think it's the right thing to do, stay away from me. And especially from her."

"As you wish, Miss Maximoff."

You notice the tears in the older witch's eyes before she looks the other way. Wanda turns her face to you next.

“Think of a safe place.” She asks in a whisper, and you nod. It takes a second before everything spins around.

//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout || @blackwow34 // @tiny–freak || @spongebobtentacles || @cyberbonesworld ||

[shysneeze]

i solemnly swear i am up to no good (george weasley x reader)

request:  what if one night the golden trio is look at the marauders map that the twins gave Harry and they see the reader and George sneaking around hogwarts and they ask George about it the next day? ~ anon

warnings: yo i don’t even think i swear in this one it’s a miracle, can’t think of anything else but Fred’s dramatics

authors note: this is the best porcastination I have ever tasted (fuck chemistry uno?) anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for anon and thank you for the request <3 

...

It's a carefully constructed routine, one that George has perfected by now. He's worked out that Lee is always the last to fall asleep, and so the coast is always clear when he begins to snore, that he's safe to slip from his covers and creep down the stairs, by which point the common room is always empty and he's free to leave completely undetected.

He knows the corridors to avoid, the ones with the gossiping portraits and regular prefect patrols.  He knows that McGonagall keeps her classroom lit through the night to discourage snooping students and that the ghost will turn a blind eye at most things, unless they're in a particularly bad mood.

He's thought it through perfectly, even if he does say so himself. In fact, he's not had an incident since the first night they met up, when Peeves decided to draw the attention of every sleeping painting in the vicinity, who awoke rather grouchy, and ready to take their complaints straight to Dumbledore until George convinced them he wouldn't let it happen to again.

Now, though, he's sure he's considered everything and he's rather smug with himself when he arrives at the kitchens. (Y/N) smiles at him when he arrives, already perched on one of the counter tops beside two mugs of hot chocolate.

"Still beat ya, Georgie." She grins.

"Right you." He teases. "You have no idea the expedition it is to get here without getting caught."

"Excuses, excus-"

He's kissing her before she can finish, her laughter vibrating against his lips until she recovers from the abruptness of it and is gathering a handful of his jumper and pulling him closer as she does every time.

They've thought of everything to keep it their own, their sacred routine and their special secret. They've eliminated every possible hiccup that could occur, they're sure of it. Everything always goes as plan and their relationship is kept protected in it's own little bubble, the way they like it. 

.

"You're not still obsessing over that map."

The boys by the fireplace jumps at the sound of Hermione's voice, staring wide-eyed as she stands on the bottom of the girl's dorm's staircase with a disappointed frown. Harry clutches the map against his chest, as if it will anyway hide it from her.

"'Mione." Ron exhales. "You gave me a bloody heart attack!"

"What are you doing up?" Harry asks.

"I left my textbook down here." She informs. "You?"

"We're uh, checking to see if Flitwick is still in the hospital wing with the flu." Harry admits shamefully. "So we don't need to the do the homework..."

"Of course you are."

She comes forward with a sigh, dropping into the seat beside them. She can't help but be slightly curious on the matter, even with her already completed homework upstairs. The map is characteristically empty for the time of night, most people's names stationary in their dorms except from the occasional pacing teacher, still up marking, or the prefects on their rounds.

It's what makes the set of footsteps tiptoeing down an empty corridor so noticeable, George Weasley's name so stark on the otherwise empty stretch of enchanted parchment. Hermione frowns at it curiously and points.

"What is George doing?"

"Who knows." Ron shrugs. "Probably just setting up some sort of prank."

 Hermione gives him an unconvinced look and drags her finger up to the Gryffindor tower, halting at the boys dorms, where Fred's name lies still where he is sleeping. Ron takes a minute to catch onto the implication.

"Then why is Fred not there either?"

"Maybe he's gone rogue?" Harry suggests.

"I doubt that."

They return to George as his inky footsteps lead further through the castle, looping through hidden corridors and secret passage ways methodically before arriving at the kitchen, where upon realisation, Hermione lets out a chuckle.

"Oh."

"What?" Ron frowns.

"Look who already in the kitchens." She explains.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)." Ron exhales. "What's he meeting up with her for?"

"Think about it, Ronald." Hermione smiles knowingly.

Ron's brows scrunch in confusion, looking expectantly to Harry, who seems to have already clued himself in and is grinning knowingly. Then his eyes begin to widen with realisation and Hermione nods.

"He can't be- with (Y/N)?" Ron gasps. "No..."

"Seems that way." Harry gives an amused smile.

"That smug git." Ron breathes. "I knew he was hiding something!"

Hermione lets out a soft laugh, soon followed by Harry. Thoughts of Flitwick's whereabouts long forgotten at this new information and it's implications. In the kitchens the pair's names have stilled together, oblivious to the secrets they've spilled.

.

George sips slowly at his coffee, willing it to make up for his late night with a burst of energy. Even through his tiredness, he's grinning to himself at the memories of the night before. His eyes search for (Y/N)'s across the room, finding them quickly, well practiced in the art of doing so. She’s nursing a cup of coffee in a similar way, and gives a knowing smile before dropping her gaze with a slight shake of her head.

Across the table, Ron watches the exchange with insider knowledge and scowls at his elder brother, a mixture of perplexed and impressed. Harry nudges him warningly, but wears a knowing sort of smirk that George catches from the corner of his eyes and causes him to grow slightly uneasy from.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing." Harry assures, coughing out a laugh. "Nothing, George."

"Alright..."

He attempts to return to his breakfast when he hears Ron snigger, rounding back on them with a frown. Hermione lifts her glass to her lips to hide her smile, only adding to George confusion. Fred's picked up on it too now, watching their little brother and his friends curiously.

"What are you lot so smug about?" Fred asks.

"That's what I'd like to know." George agrees with a frown.

George watches as Ron's eyes drift across the room towards same place as his had a moment ago, to (Y/N). George's jaw slackens ever so slightly, alerting Fred to this new development, also glancing over at the girl. (Y/N) isn't blind to this new attention, lifting her eyes to meet theirs and frowning in concern.

"Shut up." George tells Ron sternly. "Don't say anything."

"What?" Fred frowns. "What are you on about, George?"

George fixes Ron with a glare whilst also trying to figure out how he's come to know this information. He's so sure he'd considered everything, yet his brother is grinning at him like he's just won the lottery for best blackmail material possible.

Then, from the corner of Harry's robes, he recognises the aged parchment that he and Fred gave the boy themselves. He finds himself gulping and his cheeks growing warmer by the second as Harry chuckles at him.

"What the hell is going on?" Fred ask sharply, growing agitated at being left out of the loop. "What has (Y/L/N) got to do with it?"

Ron last two seconds before he's blurting it out despite George's pleading look.

"George met up with (Y/N) in the kitchen's last night."

"Merlin..." George groans.

"What!?" Fred bursts loudly. "You what?"

George groans and drops his head into his hands as Fred stares wide-eyed and betrayed. George should have considered the map, the most damning piece of evidence there could be, that no perfect timing and strategic route planning could save them from.

"You absolute git!" Fred exclaims, punching his twins arms. "You've got yourself a girlfriend and didn't tell me!"

"Ah!" George exclaims, sitting up to rub his arm soothingly. "No need for violence!"

"Uh, yeah there is!" Fred argues. "How long has this been going on?"

"I don't know- a few weeks?" George offers.  

"A few week-" Fred gasps. "And Ron knew before me?"

"I didn't exactly plan that." George defends. "Harry's got the bloody map."

"Wow." Fred folds his arms. "You think you know someone."

"Oh come off it, Fred." George groans. "I would've told you eventually."

"Eventually." Fred scoffs. "I'm your brother- your twin! I should have been told the minute it started!"

George runs his finger through his hair with a sigh and gives Fred a sheepish look, although it does nothing to appease his twin's sour look. He's nice enough to feel somewhat guilty for it, even with his brother's dramatics.

"Are you ashamed of your family George?"

That's when George clocks that he's just being a dramatic git. He rolls his eyes at his brother as he starts up with a rant on loyalty and brotherhood, hand on his heart like he's quoting Shakespeare. 

"You'll get over it soon enough." George decides flippantly. "We just liked sneaking around."

"That's possibly the most goddamn boring excuse you could come up with." Fred announces disappointedly. "You just ruined my whole thing- I was hoping for something like she thought you were me the whole time and this was actually a case of identity theft."

"Sorry to disappoint." George smirks with a shrug. "But she thinks I'm the better looking twin."

"She's clearly blind."

"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't tell you all." George sighs. "It started as an accident and then we just kind of got used to it."

"Wow, romantic." Fred jokes.

"Shut up." George scoffs. "It's not everyone's idea of a nice date but it's ours and we like it."

Fred smiles quite genuinely at this, the defensiveness in his brother's tone.

"You really like her." He observes. "Huh?"

George's eyes drift unsubtly towards the girl in question, where his smile widens at seeing her with that smile he's so used to feeling on his lips when they kiss. He chuckles to himself before turning back to his brother.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Then I'm happy for you." Fred decides, clapping his brother's shoulder. "But ever keep anything like this from me again and your twin status is revoked."

"Noted." George grins. "Oh, and Ron?"

Ron gulps at the change in his brother's tone.

"Yeah?"

"I'd be checking your shoes for spiders for a while mate."

[zalrb]

Ooo looking forward to your thoughts on HOTD! I was pleasantly surprised, but my expectations were very low, so that might not be saying much lol. I hope that the voiceover isn’t going to be something they do every episode, but I forgave it this once

It doesn't seem like it will be. Tbh, I felt the same way about the premiere that I felt about the first episode of GoT when it premiered, I wasn't particularly impressed then either, it wasn't until episode 4 that I started to really get invested, I'm not sure if that's going to happen here, it might, who knows but I think at best it's just something for me to watch on Sunday.

I don't have a character I care about, I didn't find the intrigue particularly intriguing but again, I didn't feel that way about GoT either. And then certain things just had me like am I supposed to feel something about this choice being made because, like, of course Viserys is going to choose his heir over his wife, maybe I would find it to be more of an emotional gut punch if I saw him dote on her before this but that isn't really what happened, they had a talk when she was in the bath, so, like, I mean ... yeah. The irony of the son dying after he chose to kill his wife was also kind of just skipped over so I was like well OK that happened. The Tudors does the frenzy for an heir better imo, like I get him doing a tournament is premature and they're telling him to wait, but it's all pretty matter of fact, Henry is ecstatic in The Tudors with Anne

and he's cautious with Jane

he goes to church and prays for a son

and Jane is in labour for hours and we see the passage of time in a quick shot from day to night

like there's emphasis

And it may seem nitpicky but this entire show is about the succession of Targaryens and if it's about the succession of Targaryens I need to feel invested in that succession and these characters for any of this to matter.

Even Rhaenyra and how she has the will to rule that's been overlooked because she's a girl, I was like I believe it objectively because patriarchy but all I've seen her do is ride a dragon, which isn't very impressive to me since she's a Targaryen and that's what they're supposed to do unless it IS supposed to be impressive in which case nothing has made the clear to me, have some knowledge about Nymeria, be cute with Alicent, and have some weird lowkey lusty vibes with her uncle. Like I guess her being a cup bearer is supposed to be some kind of indication of what her place is because instead of being taught how to rule she's being a cupbearer to men but because she hasn't indicated any promise of being a ruler, I kind of just went ... ok.

Daemon is the only character who I feel like I actually know and I don't find him compelling at the moment, like yes, you're the impulsive, violent brother, which is fine, everything falls into categories, there's nothing wrong with that, I'm just not enamoured with Matt Smith so the fact that it's Matt Smith being Daemon isn't enough for me to care about Daemon.

Like honestly, when they said they were doing a prequel and it was about the Targaryens, at first I was like oh, is it going to be about the days of the Mad King because THAT would be interesting and then I found it was this and I was like, oh. I guess.

Also, people are going on about the visuals but I don’t know, most things to me looked like a set, when I watch GoT, it’s on location and if it is on a set it looks realistic enough for me to really get involved in the atmosphere, but with HotD I just kept being like, it’s kind of like budget GoT despite the fact that it had a huge budget.

So basically, I was just like ... well, that happened. Let's see if it gets more interesting.

[umbralstars]

I'm gonna make some wild speculations but I think I can reasonably make an assumption for who the Pagan Altar in game represents. Look at these two:

Seriously they are both cloaked figures with large wings, but we know from the brief flash of Sothis we see in the beginning she did not look like the Goddess in the portrait, at least not completely.

(For comparison sake)

I think there may be some syncretism going on here. That statue still has a God living inside of it from that fact this Dagdan woman (a confirmed polytheist) can hear a voice from within the statue.

And this God looks suspiciously like the portrait of Sothis but extremely dilapidated and it definitely is not Sothis. The game makes it clear this is some unknown deity despite the Seiros statue present just outside the Altar. I can reasonably give an idea for what kind of deity this might be and what possibly her name could be.

The name of the continent itself is Fódlan and this is slight corruption of the name of the Goddess Fódla from Ireland. In fact She is part of the triumvirate Goddesses who together represent the land and sovereignty of Ireland. I say this very quickly to give context for what I'm about to propose.

Sothis is a very sky/heavens oriented deity. Her dwelling place is in the heavens, she affects the rains over Fódlan, she is said to not be able to protect Fódlan during the time the Blue Sea Star isn't visible, much of her symbolism is sky/heaven oriented. Her connection with the land almost seems like an afterthought within CoS doctrines. It's no doubt there from how often she's said to bless the harvests and literally restored the land to life, but it's not the main focus of how she is represented and worshipped.

I think the depiction of Sothis we see in that mural and spoken of by characters and doctrine is, in part, a syncretism. That statue is of Fódlan, the Godess of the Land from the old polytheisic faiths of her namesake. She was syncretised/merged into Sothis during the early days of the Church/pre-CoS period to encourage converts. Or the converts themselves could've syncretised Fódlan into Sothis.

This wouldn't exactly be strange if you look at history as many faiths have syncretized aspects of themselves with other cultures and religions they encountered. Syncretism was a common way for converts to keep pieces of their culture when adopting a new religion, or adapted a new Deity/practice/festivals/thought process into their religion. For an example: many holidays for Christians come from people syncritizing their cultural practices into the new religion they converted to (as many did convert willingly while there were many who were forced to convert). I should mention that syncretism is very different from assimilation as syncretism does not seek to erase the origin of practices that were syncretized together like assimilation seeks to do to all but the majority group.

Over time of course the origin of these ideas and practices can be lost as they become more ingrained in a living and changing faith, but if you look hard enough you can always find pick out the individual ingredients in the soup.

I think that's exactly what happen with Sothis and Fódlan. Fódlan's association with harvest, protection of the land, hunting, sovereignty, community, and everything else she represented folded into the idea of the Goddess. Sothis just overtook her and eventually Fódlan was lost with all but Her name remaining completely unattached to the Goddess. People forgot where these ideas came from and who they merged with Sothis just with the passage and flow of time. I mean especially considering Faerghus and Leicester were likely polytheisic until their inclusion into the Empire. Syncretism is also used to encourage converts as it allows the people to keep things that are sacred to them in a new context. I can't say when exactly Fódlan could've been first syncretized with Sothis as the answer could be/is at multiple points in the continent's history, but I digress.

Fódlan obviously still remains though with one of the few remaining statues of her as herself. Many people in Abyss obviously revere and worship her though and can even hear her voice while in prayer. Fierce and strong, reflecting the qualities the people of Abyss are looking for to make it through every day. How fitting is it that they turned to the Goddess of the Land once they could no longer see the Sky?

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

[kaisa-ryo]

Inumaki Toge NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Fingering your hair is his favorite pastime. It doesn't matter if they are short or long, light or dark, he just loves the combination of your scent and your favorite shampoo. Yes. It is no less pleasant for him to draw in their aroma, so Inumaki always bumps into the top of your head and falls asleep, feeling this native smell. This is probably why he often dreams with your participation.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Hair. It is obvious.

How he is fascinated by the sight when they develop so beautifully in the wind, how the moonlight pours into them, and how incredibly alluring any touch seems to be. It's like teasing a lover by flattering his imagination. But damn it, when you give him full control over them, he feels great delight. Toge can spend hours doing your hair or putting it in a ponytail, admiring your bare neck, guessing the thoughts behind your back.

— And if we have a girl, will you also braid her hair?

You asked with a slight laugh.

— Salmon! Salmon!

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

Most often in a condom.

Sometimes, of course, on one of the zones of your body, but with your permission. Because of the prices and the need to save money, you can certainly not copulate every day, but you want to get as much pleasure from the process as possible. Speaking specifically about you, then you do not mind that he came inside. The main thing is to properly configure yourself and him.

D = Dirty secret

He is in no other way connected with his kink, which you will learn about a little later.

When you're in the shower or away from the dorm, he takes your headphones and licks the earwax off. Yes, you heard right.

When you were walking with a friend, she couldn't stop complaining for ten minutes that her headphones need to be constantly cleaned, otherwise any music is hard to hear. You, of course, were surprised not to answer her. You have a slightly different thought - why have you never noticed your headphones are dirty? Anyway, you thought you were just lucky with them.

E = Experience

Small, but no less significant.

Watching porn to completely satisfy you seemed insufficient to him. Therefore, in order to have at least some idea of ​​the peculiarities of the female body, he watched how it moves, studied gestures, facial expressions and even intonation, trying to make out what exactly you can get aroused from. The peculiarity was that in real life, body movements and their consequences are never as natural and simple as on a phone screen. For example, when you suck on him, his throat may dry out, from which you ask him to bring a glass of water. Or when you fuck for too long, and neither of you ever experienced an orgasm (this also happens), you just lie down on the bed, not even thinking that it is either of you. Simply because you are just tired.

In general, you both learn something new in sexual relations and experience new sensations almost every intercourse.

F = Favorite position

Most of all he prefers those in which no special effort is needed. For example missionary or "spoons". They do not require any incredible gymnastic skills and still allow you to conserve energy.

A special title is occupied by the pose from behind, where you put a pillow under the pelvis. A huge plus is that such a pose serves for "deeper penetration", so you both experience the same sensations of bliss: you are all Inumaki inside yourself, and he is your incomparable warmth and flesh.

G = Goofy (Serious at this moment?)

Undoubtedly.

We can say that he simply does not know how to fool around. He is serious and subtle to such an extent that even joking flirting with him seems a kind of perversion.

H = Hair (Is the hair okay?)

Frankly, you are not even sure that he has something growing there. But the whole secret is that he tries to pay as much attention to the groin area as possible. This is the only place that, perhaps, only you can see. It is worth paying special attention to it, isn't it?

I = Intimacy (Romance)

This is mainly a manifestation of material or spiritual signs. Moreover, the most common ones, for example, an offer to share food, hold the door, straighten the curls that have come out of his hair .., but he does it with such a disinterested and sincere expression that it immediately becomes clear that this is true love based on affection.

Perhaps to some extent this is just a game of contrasts, the goal of which is to win your heart completely and completely, but unfeigned attention forces it to be sincere. In fact, there is no need for him to play these dirty games, because he has long ago reached you in all his perfection, and, in fact, remains the dearest person for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

It happens.

It does not matter because of what exactly: your naked, half-naked body, clothes ..., absolutely everything drenches him from head to toe.

The heart is pounding like mad, there is a pleasant tickling in the stomach, breathing quickens, the eyelids begin to drop from such a pressure of mixed, but clearly pleasant feelings. The hand unauthorizedly reaches down to the pants and continues to rub the tip until all the precum has flowed out. Trembling muffled moans hammer into his ears, mixing with yours, which sound in his sexual fantasies.

Once you caught him doing this, but fortunately, you didn't even understand that he was masturbating then.

K = Kink

Have you ever seen people lick their partners' ears? I hasten to congratulate (or upset), Inumaki is one of them.

During sex, he always starts with this - licking and nibbling your ears. Starting from the scaphoid fossa and ending with the earlobe. Later, he will smoothly move to a climax, ending with the fact that he learns with the language more internal parts, like a storm a passage to the eardrums.

The more you are aroused by the rhythmic movement of his tongue, the more the waves of sexual energy spread throughout your body. Eventually you will begin to succumb to such unusual caresses.

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

Any where you are alone. The most commonplace are the kitchen table and bed. But his favorite is the bath.

Here you are sitting, huddled close to each other, then Inumaki for no reason, for no reason begins to caress you. Under the water, everything seems so sharp and shameless that you will not immediately understand whether you are really flowing or whether it is ordinary water. Plus, the bath has an advantage. It lies in the fact that you do not need to go to the shower after sex to put yourself in order, because you are already in the shower!

Toge knows how exhausted you are, so he will definitely go over your whole body with a washcloth, and this, believe me, will be extremely pleasant. Then you just fall asleep on his chest while he peers into your face, tickling him from time to time with the touches of soft fingers.

M = Motivation

Your persistence

He gets maddened by the way you touch and feel his torso as he stands with his back to you. He feels how your hand moves to his chest, and each time he moans with delight, as if he was touching your tender body, not you. And you slowly and carefully examine its relief, running your fingers into your pants and touching a tense member. Oh, how you smile in response to his sighs and groans. What he thinks about you at this moment, even scary to imagine. Do you want to know his thoughts? You can do this to the fullest while he stands in front of the mirror and watches how you feel his body, looking at his face, which he is diligently trying to hide. But nothing comes of it, because you come closer to his ear and whisper: "Close your eyes ..." He obediently closes, and you passionately lick his neck, and he again moans with bliss. Damn right, he needs it right now.

N = No (Which will not do)

Something that will make you uncomfortable.

Inumaki is a person who truly wants love. It is on this that all his thoughts, plans, desires are concentrated. But not on using your passion as a tool to achieve sexual pleasure. If he ever hurts you or loses you altogether, then most likely he will not find an object for his love and will remain empty and timid until the end of his days. And this will be the saddest thing in his life. That is why he wants to give you what you need in order to receive your love in the maximum amount,

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

He tries with all his might to show that the guy is by nature a gentleman and idealist, but deep down he wants to get as much from you as possible. To do this, he tries to get all the pleasure from just one of your vulgar posture or appearance, the whole charm of which lies in the fact that he seems to be a normal action that does not cause orgasm even in the most dissolute, but still can cause something in between huge pleasure and deep shock. Such a difficult game, however, quite often happens if the guy realizes that you are completely open to his reach. And someday he will tell you about it, and you will probably laugh at it.

P = Pace

Able to suddenly accelerate, forcing you to take his fingers into your mouth. No matter how much you fuck, it will always come as a surprise to you, since a fast pace can appear at any moment, even at the very beginning.

Q = Quickie

Changeable. He chooses when he should accelerate. Even if there is nothing left to your general orgasm, it may slow down, on purpose, so that you begin to sigh heavily and beg to "be faster."

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

He does not like to talk about it, so, most likely, he is not ready. Inumaki is not afraid that everything will go through the same place as to harm you.

If he ever gets such an opportunity, he will show the cross with his hands. Even if somewhere in the depths of his soul he wants to do this, he will mentally slap himself in the face and say “no” to himself several times.

Yes, you are a very active person and you will always look for something new in order to try it soon, for which he fell in love with you. From the part. But at the same time, the guy knows very well that if something goes wrong, it will already be his fault that he did not have time to change his mind and refuse in time.

S = Stamina

On average, a couple of rounds are enough for him, and not to get tired, but to force your body to produce fluid. But this art is so subtle that it takes deep and long practice to master it. But Toge was able to "develop his own style" based solely on you. He knew by heart your movements, desires, weaknesses ... let's say, perfectly mastered your personal body language. And it does not take him long to bring you to the peak of pleasure.

T = Toys

Not an amateur.

When you offered him one just for a change, he frowned and shook his head. He does not consider it dirty, rather strange and completely unnecessary. He has a bad attitude not only to toys. When he first saw one of the varieties of BDSM, he reacted in much the same way.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Watching you wriggle with the desire for him to fuck your convulsing hole must be an incredibly exciting sight for him. Especially when you, wagging your hips, cum on his fingers, so that he immediately licks your lubricant dry. And you, mixed with an incredible sense of bliss, fuck his cock until you are exhausted, because this is the only way to somehow thank him for the affection.

Preludes are what Inumaki is really good at.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

Quite loud. For him, this is such a small complex that he tries to hide, biting your shoulders and collarbones, in order to drown out his own groan at least a little. But you think it's cute and you have already told him about it more than once, but he still continues to be embarrassed by his own voice. Perhaps he himself is embarrassed to hear the loud sounds that he is capable of making, because most of the time he is quiet as a mouse. But despite this, he is pleased that you, unlike him, do not take it as something informal or out of the ordinary.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

That night you fucked for quite a long period of time, because you, apparently, under the influence of your teenage hormones, decided to spend the whole day on how to drive him crazy with all the excitements that you know how to drink with the pathogen dissolved in water. You no longer remember what exactly your vicious hormones wanted: extra attention or the knowledge of what his maximum could be. In any case, you didn’t regret doing it.

Due to this, you guys had to sleep three hours more than you need to. As a result, both were late for training.

Who knew that Satoru Gojo was peeking into students' rooms !? Although it was obvious, nobody really thought about it.

— Hmm. What are all the same infinite adolescents are. Apparently I underestimated them. - picking up the used condom from the floor and grinning happily Gojo said.

Since then, the teacher from time to time, with an already annoying smile from her endless amount, glanced at you. But knowing that one person knew about it, it was already impossible to say for sure that someone else would not know about it either. In the end, secrets were useless to hide. Sooner or later, everyone would look askance at you. After all, an interesting couple, a strong shaman and a little vulgarity.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

13 cm, during erection ± 0.5

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

I will not deny that Toge finds you sexually attractive. Yes, he would like to be alone with you as much as possible. He knows that in a way he considers you to be his weakness. He understands that you, like a fallen star, can ignite in him not only passion, but also a thirst for euphoria. But Toge has no doubt that you are in the hands of someone who can protect you. Even from myself.

Sex is a good solution to remind you that both of you can be more vulnerable to each other, that you both have strengths and weaknesses, that one of you can show more than if he was like an open book. And, undoubtedly, each of you wants to experience this feeling at least once a week. But you and Inumaki do not forget that everything has its own measure. I have long been aware that soon frequent sex can affect your contraception, your health and sincerity (you can forget why you are doing all this). And in general, there is no need to do this too often in your relationship. Realism, what else to add?

± 5/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

It depends on how much the process exhausted him. As already mentioned, his endurance is much higher than, for example, yours. Therefore, for some indefinite rest of the time, he will look at your relaxed face, tuck a lock of hair behind your ear or stroke your bare shoulder. If your body decides to turn its back on it, it is unlikely that it will immediately stop touching you. Only after his hands pass from your shoulders to your hips and back, he will want to kiss you on the neck or on the cheek. And then he can easily make your body return to its previous position in order to spend several hours in an intoxicating bliss.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

[turnaboutimagines]

Angst Gremlin here (although this request really isn't angst) Apollo, Dick, Miles, Phoenix (and or Simon/Nahyuta's) reaction to noticing someone following/stalking (Possible yandere or serial killer) the reader? (I kinda feel like they should have stalked the reader for awhile) How would they handle the situation? Or a reaction to the reader being attacked?

Putting this one under a readmore to be safe!Characters: Apollo Justice, Dick Gumshoe, Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, Simon Blackquill, and Nahyuta SahdmadhiContent Warning: Stalking and mentions of the reader being physically assaulted.  Stalking is usually done by someone the victim knows in some capacity, so I went more from that angle.Also a little spoiler warning for a reference to a major plot point in AAI2 for Miles’s.  It’s incredibly short, vague, and doesn’t have any specific details, but if you want to remain entirely spoiler free for the last act you may wanna pass on his.

Apollo Justice.

Apollo’s endured a great deal of loss, so this is something he takes incredibly seriously right from the get-go after you tell him.  He sensed that there was something making you tense, but this certainly isn’t what he was expecting.

Would make the most of his working relationship with Klavier to draw it to the prosecutor’s office’s attention and get some help in going through all the legal motions to get you the help you need.

While he doesn’t want to infringe upon your freedom and feels guilty, he’s going to insist he walks or bikes you wherever you need to go.  Even if he’s really busy, he’s going to take the time to make sure you are safe.

Does what he can to help improve the privacy and safety of your house, too.

He’s going to be very stubborn about making sure you have someone you trust around to keep you safe at all times.  Even if it’s not him, he wants you to have friends over or just... somebody you can trust.

He’ll send you a lot of check-in texts over the course of the day whenever he can’t be with you.

If you were attacked, he’d be beside himself and wouldn’t leave your side if he could help it.  A lot of tears are shed between the both of you.

He puts his trust in Klavier that whoever did this to you is going to get the punishment that they deserve.

It takes a while after for him to feel like everything’s fine again.

Dick Gumshoe.

Dick’s not going to be letting you out of his sight until this guy’s locked up.  He’s quick to get Mr. Edgeworth on board and get you set up for a restraining order.  

When your stalker violates it, it quickly turns into a criminal case and he’s very insistent on being on the case—he wants to make this arrest himself.

As much as he doesn’t want to use his gun, he’s sure to keep it on him.  He’s got an excellent aim and he’s not about to let any harm come your way.

Insists that he should drive you to and from places in his jalopy, it’s not like he has a personal car anyways, but he hopes that making it clear that you’re close with a member of the police will help.

Is extra cuddly with you and does everything he can to try and cheer you up and keep your spirits high while the investigation continues.

He’ll even loan you his favorite, lucky coat if it helps you feel safer or more secure whenever he’s at work.  You need it more than he does right now and he trusts you with it.

If you’re attacked, he’d be incredibly harsh on himself because he feels like he failed to protect you.  He’s a mess.

He’s not going to leave your side, either, but it takes a lot of reassurance from both you and Mr. Edgeworth to console him.

Afterward, he’s going to be very overprotective of you for a while after.  You mean the world to him.

Miles Edgeworth.

Miles is no stranger to having a stalker, but the nature of yours is highly concerning to him and he’s going to immediately launch into helping you get a restraining order.  Helping you file it, himself, and collecting any evidence of potential violations afterward.

It quickly becomes a criminal case and he handles the investigation himself.  Even if he’s not assigned to it, this may be another instance of an illegal investigation from him.

In the meantime, he’d be very supportive of you participating in some self-defense classes and will even join you (in fact, he insists that he should).

Does what he can to help you focus on other things and will invite you to spend the night more often over at his place.  Even if it’s just to cuddle.

He’s subtle about it, but all of these things ensure that you’re close at hand and in a secure location to give you both some peace of mind.

He’s working himself ragged to get this mess sorted out, but he makes sure you’re informed of all he’s doing every step of the way.

If you’re attacked, he’s going to throw everything he has into the investigation.  He will not rest until the arrest is made… the only time he rests, at all, is when he visits you.

He’s very much a mother hen toward you, doting on you in his own way.  He’s just thankful you’re alive.

Phoenix Wright.

Phoenix is highly concerned and does what he can to notify the police and help you file any necessary reports.  He does the paperwork for you and is a huge moral support, especially when the stalker continues to violate it and stay off the grid.

Despite the smile puts on, he’s incredibly worried for your safety and is ready to do anything in his power to keep you safe.

Does everything he can to keep you close and to also keep your mind off of things.  You’re more liable to end up spoiled during this time period.

He’s always got at least one arm around you and he will be very encouraging of you staying over at his place or him coming over to yours.

It’s times like these that make him wish that he had a proper car and driver’s license, his bike is hardly ideal but 

And you better believe that he is fully ready to put himself in harm’s way at any moment to buy you time to get out of there or, ideally, to harm your stalker and buy enough time for the police to arrive so they can be apprehended in the act.

If you’re attacked, he’ll feel terrible that he wasn’t there when you needed him the most.

He’s going to be even clingier than he has been lately

He has Edgeworth fill him in on what’s going on with the investigation, but unless you ask he’ll keep that to himself.  You’ve been through enough as it is.

Simon Blackquill.

He seems perfectly calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside he is seething.  And continues to the bolder and bolder your stalker grows as they continue to violate your restraining order.

He knows the particular type of stalker you have, he talked with a particularly despicable one while he was in prison.

He does what he can to engage your stalker in a rather one-sided game of psychological warfare, doing things like sharpening his swords where he knows your stalker is likely to see him.

You’re going to have a sword or two in easy to grab places around your house and he teaches you how to wield them.

Taka’s usually with you during this period of time, providing you both comfort and protection.

He’ll have it set up so you know how to care for his beloved bird and can keep him as a companion overnight when Simon isn’t able to be with you.

If you’re attacked, he’s going to be equal parts guilt and rage.  Clearly, he failed you as both a prosecutor and a partner to allow this to happen… especially if you were together before the UR-1, as he’s put you through enough suffering as it is.

He terrifies the nursing staff tending to you, but he rarely (if ever) lets go of your hand.  

And he’s going to be especially vicious during any interrogations the creep’s going to be put through.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi.

He is incredibly alarmed by this revelation and uses his position to investigate this case himself, along with providing you with the customary legal protections in Khura’in for someone in your position.  Of course, it doesn’t deter your stalker.

His father trained him in how to detect when he’s being followed (knowledge that has served him well over the years), he passes that knowledge onto you.  

He also shows you all the Defiant Dragon hiding spots and secret passages that he knows of when he’s confident the two of you are not being followed.

And he will train you in some basic martial arts sparring techniques and, if you demonstrate adequate spiritual potential, how to wield prayer beads as he does.

For your psychological well-being, he encourages you to meditate and will treat you to some of your favorite food as often as he can.

He always lends you a sympathetic ear 

When he senses that you’re being watched, he’ll walk closer to you and place a hand on the small of your back.

If you’re attacked, he will pray to the Holy Mother for your well-being until it is confirmed that you will be okay.  He brings you flowers each day, but he is hellbent on capturing them before you are discharged from the medic’s.

He will pursue this foul foe and ensure that due justice is swiftly dealt to keep you out of harm’s way.  He will not abide by anyone harming his loved ones.

[jpat82]

Nameless

Chapter 9

    The cavern was almost silent, the dripping seemed to get louder as you tried to listen for whatever dropped down ahead of you. The thundering in your chest was heavy in your ears as you stood still, your mangled hands held tight to your chest. You closed your eyes to the complete darkness ahead, if only James were here.

    "The two of you sound like a heard of wild elephants, not two wolves. I think Hulk is quieter then the both of you." A accented voice ahead of you stated, a flash of silver in the darkness as your eyes popped open.

    "I can smell her." Thor's familiar voice cut through the air, tension in your body immediately falling away from you, relief flooding through you.

    "Of course you can, you fool, she is directly behind you." Loki's voice hissed, a warm hard rest on your forearm. "Y/n, what happened?"

    "They.. they brought me here. They want Luca." You stuttered as a warm tear slipped down your cheek. "We have to get out of here and get to him."

    "Master Barnes is heading this way." Thor told you, his words echoing off the walls.

    "We don't have time." You responded, a pleading tone in your voice.

     "But Lady.."

      "No!" You interrupted the wolf, your voice carrying through the cavern, echoing. "We go now."

     "I like you." The third man stated, silver eyes looking at you through the darkness. "A woman that doesn't back down, I can see why Bucky picked you."

    "She's injured." Loki stated with annoyance. "Not that I care if Bucky gets angry that his woman is injured further, I would rather not to have deal with more then my share of work."

     "When have you ever back down from a messy fight? Brother, have you gone weak?" Thor chuckled knowing how to crawl under his brothers skin.

     "I didn't say that." Loki smarted back.

     "I don't care, my son is in danger and if we don't get out of this cave James won't be the one you are dealing with!" You snapped.

—————

Bucky walked between Sam and Steve, Steve on his right, Sam on his left just as it had always been. They followed the trail that Pietro and the wolves had made. The moon high in the sky above of them, silence had descended across the family as they pushed forward.

"You've been more quiet then usual, what is it Bucky?" Sam clipped out, his eyes scanning across the field ahead of them. "Cause not that I don't enjoy ripping someone apart, you and Steve seem a lot more tense then usual."

     Bucky looked back at his family, each of them following him blindly yet again. He sighed heavily, his head slowly turning back forward looking out across the grassland that shown under the silver light of moon. A shiver of dread coursed it's way down his spine.

"Eons ago, there were only two races. Humans and daemons. Everything today that isn't human, has somehow come from the daemon bloodline, whether through virus, or creation." Bucky calmly explained, thinking back to the ancient books he had read while being tutored by Stan. "All of us, have daemon origins. Including y/n."

"And that's because she had the dormant strain of what you have." Sam stated, more to remind himself that even if Bucky's wife had started human she was as much a creature of the night as any of them.

"Yes." Bucky replied. "These daemons, they didn't look human, didn't look like the wolves, didn't even resemble humans in anyway. Their skin was black, or dark violet, navy. Odds scars ran across their faces and down their back, horns grew on the their heads, often times twisted and at unnatural angles. They were very powerful, and had a very distinct smell."

"So your saying we're following daemons?" Sam questioned.

"Good, god no." Steve chuckled, he noticed the separation in the soil yards a head, the slight smell of sulphur riding on the wind. He ran up ahead as Bucky kept his pace.

"Yes and no, daemons can't reproduce, they never have been able to. And the can't exist here without a host and thats what they do is find hosts." Bucky stopped suddenly, Sam followed suit and both men faced each other, the family gathering around them. "They envade the body of a living being, it's almost like they rip themselves apart and force apart of their own being into someone else. They create destruction, war, mayhem and pain where ever they go for no other reason then that they can. The only goal they have had was take over the earth and lay it to ash. To create the perfect hell to live in."

"Holy hell." Clint breathed, his jaw going slack.

"Thousands of years ago, the humans and other creatures of the night banded together in an attempt to take them out. It was bloody, and long drawn out, their leader, Thanos, was brutal and took to using kids as his weapons and warriors. Eventually we thought we had succeed, we could do what the humans couldn't or wouldn't do. The night creatures decided upon ourselves to burn down an entire country, we surrounded all ways for them to escape and turned it to ash. For two years we made this country burn till not a single body was left." He explained, all emotions removed from his voice, his eyes a dull blue as he spoke. Bucky took a deep breath before continuing. "The humans never forgave us."

"So we're dealing with daemons? Or just one that's been like a photo copied on steroids?" Tony asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Once a host is infected with daemon essence it spreads through the human body, slowly transforming into a new daemon that is completely different then the original." Bucky explained.

"So it's similar to the vampire virus?" Tony stated, shrugging. "You can turn us into a vampire but like with parental restrictions. We can't make other vampires and we don't get the cool eye trick but essentially we can do the same things."

"Except once the person is infected by a daemon, they become one, one hundred percent." Steve stated as he walked back the rest of family. "The hounds and Pietro went down there."

"Then down the hole we go." Bucky replied.

"Alright Alice, but I get to be the white rabbit." Tony quipped.

——————

Wanda rushed through the darkened passage under the house, Luca held tight to her chest. She knew every turn, she had spent hours down here soon after she had been turned. Bucky and the rest of the family left her behind as they didn't think she was strong enough to handle the hunt. Now she had been glad, it prepared her to run blindly in the darkness to the door that opened out into the forest.

She had thought Thanos was dead, long gone. Her heart hammered hard in her chest, her stomach flipping over and over again. There was no way he should be alive. No way at all. She had seen the visions of his death when she was child and then again when her and Pietro had been on the run from hunters. It was brief and fleeting image she had seen but he had been there, collecting the lives of children.

     The child in her arms squirmed as she shoved the old wooden door open, allowing the cool night to wrap around her. Moonlight filtered it's way through the thick canopy above giving her light to navigate through the dense forest.

    Now, he was here. The only thought burning through her mind was to put as much distance between them and her as possible. She ran down the brush covered hill side, heading in the direction of the town, keeping clear of the foot paths on the off chance any of his lackeys would be laying in wait.

    Someone stepped out from behind a tree, Wanda couldn't stop next thing she knew she was colliding into someone.

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[chibistarlyte]

this isn't really a headcanon but more of a pure prompt: since i just got home from work a hot minute ago-- bilbo and thorin modern!au see each other almost every single day on public transportation, who works up the courage to talk to the other first?

(i’m using the train as their mode of transport because i definitely prefer that over the bus. also, i mean they technically talk to each other when they say shit like “excuse me” but that doesn’t really count, right? sdhfksdhgfj)

The train was always so damn crowded by the time Thorin got on in the morning.

It was expected, though. His stop wasn’t until about six stops from the beginning of the line, and it was the middle of rush hour when everyone and their mother was commuting to work. So of course the train would be crowded.

Unfortunately for Thorin, he was a bit bulkier than most people and thus it was difficult to sandwich himself between other passengers and not disturb them by constantly bumping into them every time the train moved.

Today was his lucky day, he thought as he spotted a relatively open spot by one of the benches. He’d have to stand, of course, but that was no problem for him. He was used to it. He politely pushed his way through the aisle of people and came to stop right next to a curly-haired man with a book seated on the bench. Thorin held on tightly to the handle above his head as the train started to move once more, keeping his balance with ease.

The train ride itself was uneventful, as per usual. Thorin spent most of it just staring out the window and watching as the scenery slowly morphed from a mix of rural-suburban to a more urban setting the closer they traveled to downtown Erebor. He would have preferred to live in Erebor proper so that he wouldn’t have to commute for over an hour every day, but even for a jewelry designer such as himself, real estate in the city was just too expensive. At least the commute could be worse–had he decided to drive rather than take the train, he would have been stuck in standstill traffic for Mahal knows how long every morning and evening.

The train slowed to a stop at Erebor University, three stops away from his own. Thorin was busy admiring the artwork at the train station when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Pardon me, but this is my stop.”

Thorin looked down to see who had spoken to him and his blue eyes made contact with a pair of vivid green eyes. He was face-to-face with the man who had been seated next to him and wow, he had never seen someone so beautiful in all his life.

Oh. He should probably respond, somehow.

“Sorry,” Thorin said and tried to move out of the way of the curly-haired man. He received a nod in thanks and the man weaved his way through the remaining crowd. Thorin watched as he got off the train, watched as he properly shouldered his worn leather satchel and straightened his burgundy blazer, watched as the man headed out onto the campus and pulled a gold pocket watch–wait, a pocket watch??–out to check the time.

And that was the last glimpse Thorin had of this mysterious man as the train pulled away from the station.

.

The next day, Thorin saw the curly-haired man on the train again. This time, though, he was standing near one of the doors, one hand holding the handrail and the other hand holding a book that he seemed to be completely engrossed in.

Thorin could have sworn it was a different book from yesterday.

The man was wearing a navy blue blazer today. Thorin had thought the burgundy looked good on him, but the navy blue seemed to make his light brown hair stand out a bit more.

He tried to spend the rest of the train ride looking out the window like he usually did, but he found that his gaze kept shifting towards a certain passenger the entire time. At least, until said passenger once again got off at the university stop. Even then, Thorin watched him until the train went around the bend and the man was completely out of sight.

.

Day after day, week after week, Thorin saw the mysterious curly-haired man on his morning train commute. And from just observing from afar, Thorin learned these few things about him:

1. He definitely preferred wearing jewel tones. And blazers. Every single blazer Thorin had seen him in had been a deep, rich gemstone color of some kind. Being a jeweler, Thorin could appreciate that.

2. He seemed to be extremely well-read. He had a different book every day, and from the titles that Thorin had happened to catch on a few occasions, they weren’t exactly easy reads. There were even a couple he noticed were written in a different language, though he couldn’t discern what languages from a distance.

3. He was possibly a professor, judging by his attire, general demeanor, and where he got off the train every morning.

4. He was absolutely stunning.

Well, that last point was definitely more subjective than the first three, but.  Sometimes Thorin found himself distracted by the way the sunlight would fall on the man’s round face, illuminating his curls to an almost golden blond. Or the way his favored blazers would hug his shoulders just right. Or the way his gorgeous green eyes would squint every now and then on a particularly difficult passage in his book du jour and he would silently mouth the words he was reading.

Thorin had thought about kissing that mouth more often than he’d care to admit.

“Excuse me, please.”

Thorin mentally shook himself out of his daze and looked to the source of the voice. There was a small smile on the man’s face as he looked up at Thorin, green eyes shining with…something Thorin couldn’t discern. It was then that Thorin realized just how short this man was; he barely cleared Thorin’s shoulder.

“Oh, uh, my apologies,” Thorin said, ducking his head as he tried to move out of the way…but there wasn’t much room for him to move. He sucked in a breath and held it as the curly-haired man squeezed past him trying to reach the door. There was a small thump as the man descended the stairs, which drew Thorin’s eye.

A book was lying on the dirty floor of the train, still thankfully closed and bookmarked but the cover looked a little scuffed from its tumble.

Before the train started moving again, Thorin pushed his way towards the door and picked up the book. By the time he stood up again, the train had started moving and he damn near lost his footing before grabbing onto the nearest handrail he could. He held the book in his free hand and dusted the front and back covers off on his brown trousers. Once he felt it was clean enough, Thorin brought the book up to look at the cover.

His eyes widened when he saw the title of the book was in Khuzdul. Now that was a rare sight. There weren’t many books written in his mother tongue anymore, and this one looked like it had been published fairly recently.

Just who was this mysterious curly-haired man? Thorin needed to know.

.

Climbing the steps onto the train, Thorin immediately began looking around for the curly-haired man. He had to return his book to him, and also attempt to strike up a conversation somehow. He wanted to know why this man had not only been reading a book written in Khuzdul, but a book written in Khuzdul about jewels and metal crafting.

Too bad Thorin wasn’t great with social interactions.

And damn it, where was the man?! Of course it would be today of all days that he wouldn’t be on the train.

Finally, as the train began to move, Thorin spotted a familiar mop of light brown curls.

As politely as he could, Thorin weaved his way down the aisle filled with commuters until he reached the man, who happened to be standing this morning and holding onto the handrail with both hands. No book today.

Probably because he’d accidentally dropped the one he was currently working through, Thorin surmised.

“I think you dropped this yesterday,” Thorin said a little out of breath, his heart hammering in his chest and cutting off his oxygen supply. He held the book out to the man, who regarded it with wide green eyes that a few seconds later locked onto Thorin’s face.

“Oh, heavens, thank goodness you found it! I was searching everywhere for it yesterday…” the man sighed in relief, taking the book with a grateful smile.

Thorin’s heart leapt into his throat. “I-it’s no problem. I was hoping I’d see you today so I could return it to you.”

“Well, I thank you very much, Mister…?” the man trailed off.

“Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield.”

The man’s eyes widened again. “Thorin Oakenshield of Thror and Sons Jewelers?”

It was Thorin’s eyes’ turn to widen. “You know of us?”

The man nodded, his curls bouncing adorably around his cheekbones. “Oh, yes! Incidentally enough, I’ve read a bit about your company in this book…” A bit bashfully, the man held up his book, his eyes darting back and forth between it an Thorin a couple times.

Thorin cleared his throat, nervously averting his gaze to the window. His cheeks colored, though any blush he might have has was mostly covered by his dark facial hair. He tried to think of something, anything to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a socially inept idiot, but nothing came.

“So, uh, you seem to know who I am. But I have no idea who you are,” he said awkwardly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I do believe I’ve forgotten my manners. My name is Bilbo Baggins. I’m a professor of Sindarin at Erebor University.”

Well, that confirmed Thorin’s assumptions that he must be a professor of some sort.

“So you’re a linguist?” Thorin asked. He idly wondered what other languages this man–Bilbo, what a nice name, it suited him somehow–spoke.

Bilbo laughed a little nervously. “Ah, I like to dabble, yes. Sindarin is the only other language I speak fluently, though.”

Well, Thorin could definitely help with that, being a native Khuzdul speaker.

“Oh, this is my stop!” Bilbo announced almost hurriedly, like the university stop had crept up on him without his knowledge. Thorin briefly looked out the window to confirm. Had time really gone that quickly?

“Um, thank you so much again for returning my book, Thorin! I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost it for good!” Bilbo then laughed nervously again. “And it was very nice to finally meet you.”

Finally? What did Bilbo mean by that? Thorin didn’t have much time to wonder about it, though, because Bilbo was already squeezing past him for the door. “Nice to meet you too, Bilbo!” he called out. The professor waved to him as he exited the train.

The doors closed and Thorin looked out the window, blue eyes meeting green for the briefest of moments before the train continued on its way.

Thorin allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. He couldn’t wait to talk to Bilbo more tomorrow.

[abrokenknowledge]

Saved - Ambrose Spellman x Reader

Summary: You get sent forward in time by 13 witches and meet the Spellmans.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Word Count: 1599

It was the next day, yesterday’s ordeal still ringing in the air. To say she felt guilty was a huge understatement. She felt like a nuisance. She hadn’t spoken to anyone since then and opted to sit on a stool in the morgue, he arm rested against a table, viewing Ambrose work on a body.

This didn't go unnoticed by Ambrose. Leaving the body and turning his attention to the pouting girl, he spoke to her ”Penny dreadful for your thoughts, buttercup.” His thoughtful smile causing a weak smile to appear on her face. ”You seem rather...” he paused, thinking of the correct word to use to describe her emotions, ”melancholy.”

Turning to look at him, she doesn't speak but just looks at him for a few moments, then looked away.

”If it is about the whole curse thing, it wasn't your fault, you can't control it. Besides, Auntie Z and Hilda are working on a way to banish it.” Realising she still wasn't looking at him, he places his hands either side of her legs and onto the seat, spinning her around. ”Now, in the meantime, why don't we bake some goods and have a fun time?”

Y/N hops off her chair and brings her hands up to Ambrose’s face to remove his glasses. Taking them off delicately, and placing them on the table behind her, she waits for him to remove his apron before grabbing his hand and pulling the chuckling man up the stairs.

*~————————~~~~~————————~*

”Hello, you two,” Hilda says in her usual upbeat tone.

”Hello, Hilda.”

”Hello, Auntie.”

”What are you two doing?”

”Well, Auntie, we were thinking about baking something. Have any suggestions?” Ambrose questions the woman who was dusting a cake with powdered sugar.

”Perhaps you should make cookies, they are quite simple. You don't have the best track record in baking.”

That caused Ambrose to let out a high pitched whine. ”Aunty!” A light and delicate laughter fill his ears as he says this, he looks to his side to see Y/N standing on her tiptoes reaching ingredients in the cupboard. The sugar was at the top of the cupboard was just out of her reach, her fingertips barely grazing the bag. Placing a hand on her waist, Ambrose reached his other hand up to the bag and placed it into the girls awaiting hands.

Hilda decided to leave the two to their baking, but not before winking at the boy who was no longer staring at the concentrated girl who was arranging ingredients.

”So Y/N, do you happen to know any cookie recipes?” he said in a slightly teasing way, knowing full well that she probably knew hundreds of recipes.

”Lucky for you Ambrose, I do.” A grin never leaving his face.

Y/N was adding ingredients into the bowl and Ambrose was going to mix them when done. Cookies were not what he was focused on. Her perfect pout and glossy lips, the way she double checked every ingredient before adding it to the mixture.

”Ambrose... Ambrose?” Small hands waving in front of his face, this didn't seem to grasp his attention, she put one hand on his chest and clicked her fingers a few inches away from his face. Sensing both the pressure of her tiny hands against his broad chest and hearing the quiet clicks of her fingers, he snapped out of his gaze and looks down at the girl, a light blush dusting his cheeks. ”Y-yes Y/N?” ”I thought you wanted to stire the batter,” she tells him, her eyebrows scrunched into an adorable frown. “Oh yes, sorry. Of course!” He grabs the spoon and puts it into the bowl, trying not to look at the girl who was looking rather confused.

Y/N places parchment paper on the baking tray and awaits for Ambrose to finish stirring. She looks into the bowl when he places it upon the counter. ”Is it mixed enough?” his body leant against the countertop and his head on his hand. ”Yep, but I do believe we have forgotten something...” she draws out the end of his sentence and looks around the kitchen. Ambrose was confused by this, peering into the bowl to see nothing wrong. But before he could voice this, Y/N jumps up from her place and dashing across the kitchen and onto her knees to take out chocolate chips from a cupboard. ”Found it!” A broad grin gracing her face, she skips over to the bowl and pops in a large handful of chocolate chips. A deep chuckle pours out of Ambrose’s mouth and his arms snake around her to grab the bowl. He holds the bowl close to the tray to let her spoon equal amounts onto the tray, grabbing handfuls of chocolate chips every time she looks away, eating them and smiling every time she looked up at him.

With the cookies in the oven and the timer set, the only thing left to do was clean the kitchen. That was a mess. ”How did it get so messy.” a cute pout playing on her lips.

”I have no idea,” he said leaning over and bopping her nose; her hand slowly crept up to her nose and dusted of flour, nose scrunching up in confusion. ”Did you just...?”

Her hanging question caused a goofy grin to bloom onto his face, ”maybe.”

His eyes followed her as she went around the counter and turned the warm faucet on, placing different bowls and utensils into the sink, adding a generous amount of fresh smelling dish soap. Seemingly finished with it, she turned off the faucet and turned around to face the man whose eyes were transfixed on her. The two stared at each other before Y/N sauntered around the counter and stopped in front of Ambrose, lifting her head to look him in the eye. ”Ambrose...” she whispered her arms reaching behind her. ”yes.” leaning in closer.

”Haha!” she beamed as she wipes flour over both sides of his face, both her hands on either one of his cheeks. Ambrose was taken aback, he certainly wasn't expecting that, but seeing her cheeky smile made him want to pause time. He puts a hand on either side of her waist and lifts her up and places her onto the countertop. ”Now that was uncalled for buttercup.” in a warning tone that was mostly teasing.

”What should I do for your punishment?”

*~————————~~~~~————————~*

”Well, it isn't a blood curse and the symptoms are quite odd, but her health his fine apart from the fainting,” Hilda tells her sister, looking through different books on incantations and curse remedies.

”The only curse that can take over a person like that would be a soul curse,” Zelda began taking a drag from a cigarette, ”Very few have survived the remedies and we don't have any knowledge to know where to start.”

They sit somberly, both trying to come up with a solution to help the girl. A loud giggle followed by a hearty laugh echoed through the house, startling the two women. ”Oh, what are they up to?”

”Just leave them, Zelda, they sound happy. It is fine.” Hilda smiles.

”Wait, I think I found something.”

She pushes a book between the two of them and points at a passage. After reading the page they both nod and silently acknowledge the fact that this is the only way to save her.

*~————————~~~~~————————~*

Both arms wrapped around her from behind and his hands keeping her soapy hands away from him, Ambrose Spellman looked at the girl in front of him and raised an eyebrow, daring her to even try to put the suds near him.

The counters tops were clean, all the ingredients were put back and the sink was clear of all dirt. They somehow did this while constantly hitting each other with flour and soap; both of them looked like they baked themselves into a soapy cake.

Just as Ambrose was about to do something about the girl in front of him Auntie Hilda walks into the kitchen. He unlatches his arms from the girl and turns around to face her; Y/N faces Hilda and puts her hands behind her back to keep the soap hidden.

Hilda just looks between the two for a while, no words leaving her mouth as the confusion made it hard for her to form a sentence.

”You two look, well... different.”

”Hello, Auntie, ” It was evident in his voice he was feeling rather smug about something. ”Hello, Hilda!” a quiet yet happy voice sounds behind them making them turn around.

The image Hilda saw was something she wasn't expecting. Y/N’s clothes looked slightly dishevelled but otherwise fine, her hair was covered in flour and was still damp from the splashes Ambrose gave her. This look was topped off with a rather interesting thing she was oblivious to.

”Y/N, dear, why do you have a spoon in your pocket?”

”I don't-” holding up a spoon she looks at the woman ”I don't know...” They both turn to their side to see a rather sheepish grin on Ambrose’s face.

She pulls the tray out of the stove and places it down onto the counter; puts the oven mitts down next to it and smiles. ”They look surprisingly good.”

”Well, Auntie, I am rather good at baking.” Both females exchange a knowing look.

”I am going to go wash this out.” she smiles and leaves the room, her hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching. She waits for the patter of feet on the staircase before addressing Ambrose, ”We’ve found a way to release the curse.”