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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years ago

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Pink Scarf - PART 16 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Rough SEXXX. Restraints. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: Woo, boy, y'all. Get yourselves ready, cuz the snowball is rollin' and the shit storm is comin'. This part is a little bit of everything--a little sweet, a little salty, a little smutty. It's what y'all deserve!

For the flashback, I had E's 1960 It Feels So Right playing in my head on repeat, so if you are one who likes music to set the mood, then you might give it a listen before/during/after you read that part!

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there!)

Graceland, Christmas 1960

The mansion is finally quiet, or at least you’ve managed to find a quiet part of it in the midst of all the holiday revelry. Elvis loves Christmas, and this is his first one home in two years. And the first one without Gladys.

You had thought that maybe his grief would make the holiday a more solemn affair, but he’s gone in the opposite direction. It’s as though his loss has fueled him to make Christmas as joyful as humanly possible. Even though he’s been away filming for most of the month, he still directed the mansion should be decked out in all the Christmas finery for his return. And so it is.

You wish you were more in the spirit to enjoy it. Usually, you would be—Christmas is one of your favorite times of the year—but this year it sits heavy for you. Heavy because if all had gone well, you’d be sharing it with your newborn baby.

The thought brings you to tears again.

You’ve been hiding your grief as much as possible, sliding on a quaint smile, singing carols, and making cookies with the rest of them, but in these solitary moments, you grieve. You cannot help it. You know it’s futile and silly. How can you grieve someone who barely even existed, someone who was never born? And yet, here you are, alone, sitting in a quiet corner of the house at the piano, a couple of glasses too many of champagne in, being sad over what could have been.

So you begin to play. You know practically every carol and hymn by heart, so you just close your eyes and let the music take you away. It doesn’t erase your grief, but it does help you let it out in some way. You barely notice the tears rolling down your cheeks as you play Away In A Manger and What Child Is This?. You let the dramatic chords of O Holy Night linger in the air at the push of the pedals.

And after a bit of playing, that image of a baby in your arms feels fuzzy and faraway. Or maybe that’s the champagne. Maybe it’s both.

The air shifts. You notice it but play on anyway. You’re not sure how, but you are able to sense him, his presence, his essence, as it pushes in around you. But he remains quiet, and your eyes remain closed as your hands continue to fly over the keys.

Elvis does not interrupt, he only watches. You’re not sure why. You feel as though he barely speaks to you anymore. Yes, he is away and busy and all the usual excuses. But he used to seek you out when he returned. He’d bring you silly little trinkets and sing to you and tell you stupid, off-color jokes.

Now, since that horrible day in March, it’s as though an invisible wall has come between you two, and you don’t understand why. It’s nothing overt—he treats you kindly in the group and doesn’t outwardly ignore you. But something significant has changed, you swear it. Perhaps it is your ultimate failure as a woman that has turned him away. Or maybe with the explosion of his stardom since returning from Germany, he just doesn’t have time for you anymore. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all; maybe he’s just a different man now.

Your tears of grief now include the loss of him, too. Losing your friend is heartbreaking in its own right, much less coupled with the loss of your child, of your fertility. It doesn’t help that Jack has been gone with Elvis on his travels and feels distant, too. You’d initially thought the space would be good for you two, but instead you just feel achingly lonely.

God, you wish you’d never been pregnant at all, as all it seemed to bring you is heartache.

You stop playing and open your eyes. The room is dim, lit only by one of the many Christmas trees in the house, but when you turn towards the door, Elvis is still there, his blue eyes shining with emotion as he leans in the doorway. The man looks ready to weep, which takes you by surprise, as he’s only shown enthusiasm and excitement since being home. You recognize the look though: it’s grief and melancholy, similar to your own.

Then Elvis looks at you unabashedly for a moment, almost like he is really, truly seeing you for the first time in months. The air sits heavy and silent. You don’t bother wiping the tears off your cheeks, though your heart races a bit. Must be the champagne, you think. It certainly isn’t the way he is looking at you now, how you are being laid bare and vulnerable by his intense gaze.

Something builds between you, though you are not exactly sure what, and he suddenly straightens and crosses the room to you. He towers over you now at the end of the piano bench and an overwhelming need to be near him comes over you. It’s as though you are both magnetized to each other, so when he holds out his hand, you cannot help but take it. The warmth of his hand surrounds yours as he pulls you up and into his waiting arms.

You fold into him, your arms tucked into your chest and your head buried into his collarbone as he wraps his arms around you. His spicy, distinct scent surrounds you and his warmth engulfs you and you cannot help the sob that escapes you at the comfort of it.

Elvis holds you close and lets you cry, and you feel his chest shudder and his breath hitch as though he is as emotional as you are. His mother, you think; he’s been hiding his grief as you’ve been hiding yours. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your temple as they run down his face and onto yours, and this prompts you to unfold your arms and wrap them around his torso, comforting him as he is comforting you.

He sways you, moving to the unheard music you assume is always playing in his mind, and pressed against him like this, you can feel the quick and steady beat of his heart pounding in his chest. You don’t remember the last time you were this close to him. He feels bigger, broader than the boy who went to Germany, but is no less Elvis. His sensitive spirit is the same after all.

You are not sure how long you sway there, crying in each other’s arms at your respective losses. But you know it’s more than just that. You know because as your tears start to ebb and you move back the slightest bit, he grabs your hand and pulls you in close, unwilling to part with you. He dances with you now, slowly pulling you back into his silent rhythm.

And you let him. You let his hand clasp yours and he draws it over his heart, holding it there. His heart beats quicker, you think. It’s too intimate now, the way his warm, damp cheek presses to yours, the saltiness of your tears mixing and binding your grief together. The air shifts again, still heavy and thick, but with a million unsaid words hanging there in the silence.

Your heart skips, flutters, and your breath catches. You’re not exactly sure what is happening. But you still let him hold you and sway you in slow circles. His hand splays hot on your lower back, burning through you, setting your body aflame in a way you don’t understand.

But you are a few glasses in and on a roller coaster of emotion and right now the feel of his strong, lean body pressed against yours makes you feel alive in a certain kind of way. You’ve been lonely and you’ve missed him more than you thought. It’s almost as if this is a silent plea for forgiveness from him.

Yes, that’s all it is.

You feel hyperaware of him and his closeness, so when Elvis nuzzles his head against the side of yours, you feel breathless. Your mouth pops open with a puff which, considering his proximity, he must feel, but he does not stop, and you cannot help the way you return the gesture in kind.

His breath is warm in your ear, and you can feel the softness of his lips brush against it, sending a decidedly inappropriate cascade of shivers dancing through you.

Oh, god.

Involuntarily, your hand contracts in his, your nails scraping lightly at his button-down shirt. Elvis presses your palm down onto his heart in response. You feel out of control, completely at his mercy, knowing this is too much, too close, too intimate but you can’t seem to stop, intoxicated by his strength, his affection, his essence.

Elvis’ still-damp cheek lingers against your own, and he presses his forehead gently to yours with a soft sigh. Then he pulls back slowly, just far enough to look at you, and you feel knocked over by his pure beauty. Honestly, you feel absolutely heady as you threaten to tip over and lose yourself in those churning, deep blue eyes of his. And, boy, they are churning, with things you can’t quite grasp. You watch as they search your face, his impossibly long lashes punctuating their every slow move. Holding your breath, your heart speeds up ever faster, and you wonder what it is he seeks in you.

Your sadness and grief feel far away now as he plunders your soul, his gaze so alluring that you cannot even begin to piece through what is going on in any sort of logical way. You don’t understand any of it. All you know is you want more, and that feels forbidden in every way.

As if reading your thoughts somehow, his lips part. His eyes flutter down your face and land at your mouth. A shock runs through you as you think Elvis just might kiss you, and that terrifies you, not just because it would be crossing a line but because in this moment you want him to.

You want to feel his lips soft and sweet against you, then crushing into you. You want his body passionately pressed into yours as you cling to each other in the sparkling light of the Christmas tree. You want his large hands roaming your curves. You want to feel the strands of his dark hair between your fingers as you tug him closer. You want him to make you forget everything but the taste and feel of him.

These wants flash through you in an instant, shocking your system because he is so close that you almost can taste him and panic shoots through you. Never have you let your thoughts truly drift to that place with him, and opening that door feels very dangerous. Suddenly, with a wave of absolute certainty, an intuition you cannot explain at all exclaims that Elvis wants you more than anything in this world.

And that makes you gasp and pull away.

That cannot possibly be true. Nothing about the way he’s acted this past year supports that but something inside you screams that it’s real. It makes no sense. None of it makes any sense.

Elvis blinks and shakes his head as though snapping himself out of a daze. His hand falls from your waist, the spell broken. The soulful look in his eyes flashes with what almost seems like hurt, then apology, then regret. Without a single word, he turns and leaves.

Your heart plummets for reasons you don’t understand.

You must be confused. You are drunk. You are emotional. You couldn’t possibly have read the situation correctly. And yet the feelings awakened in your body surprise you and the look in his eyes haunts you as you sink back onto the piano bench, left alone in the silence.

Your eyes pop open at the memory. You had been very drunk that night and hadn’t remembered that moment until this very minute, yet another hidden facet of your long and suddenly complex relationship with your friend making itself known. Elvis had continued to keep his distance from you after that Christmas and had never even alluded to such an intimate moment happening, so you’d had no reason to think anything strange had happened at all. In hindsight, it seems awfully significant and feels like yet another thing he’s keeping from you.

Running it through your mind again, you swear he’d almost kissed you that night or at least had wanted to, which is shocking to you because 1960 was a long time ago. Still more shocking was that certainty you’d had about him wanting you more than anything, which couldn’t possibly be true.

Could it?

You shake off the thought. Emotions were high for both of you that night, and he obviously had thought better of it, but still…that prickle at the back of your mind keeps gnawing at you, those pieces of the puzzle attempting to slot into place. Maybe if you weren’t so damn tired and emotionally spent, you’d be able to figure out what your mind is trying to tell you. Maybe if your body wasn’t still aching with the memory of losing your child and almost dying, you’d be able to think clearly.

And your conversation with Sandy also sits uneasily in your mind. Running away ain’t gonna solve anything, her voice echoes in your head. You wish you had the strength she hoped you did, the strength to tell Jack to fuck off, to tell Elvis how you really feel, but it all feels so overwhelmingly insurmountable that you can barely even entertain the thought.

Heart pounding and wheels turning, you know sleep is out of the question and sit up in the bed. You get up and busy yourself instead. You feel as though you are racing the clock. It doesn’t take long to pack your bag, and while you are not frantic, you are determined. Mentally, you are ready to go. You have to go.

Unfortunately, things are not working out as you hoped they would. When the concierge calls you back with your fight arrangements, he informs you that there are no flights out of Vegas until 7:30am tomorrow morning. It being a Sunday night and with such short notice, there were no seats headed back east to be had. You thank him and reply that of course the morning flight would be acceptable before you set the receiver back on the hook and let out an aggravated scream.

You need out now. You are half inclined to rent a car and drive back to Memphis, but you know that is a terrible idea for a variety of reasons, namely being that you had no idea how to get to Memphis from here and being alone on the road for so long with no preparation sounded dangerous.

Fine, you think, I can make it through the night. I should tell Elvis in person anyway.

The thought makes your stomach churn because you know he will not be happy with this development. You’d rather not see the look on his face, but you also know it is the right thing to do. You just need to steel yourself to see your decision through and not be swayed by his charms.

Easier said than done.

And it doesn’t help that you are running on fumes and adrenaline. With everything that happened last night, the only sleep you’ve had was on the roof and that was short-lived and filled with nightmares. You took a shower after getting back to the room, but your mind is spinning too much to sleep, plagued with returning memories and creeping doubt.

You decide to get ready for the show as originally planned. It’ll be easier to gain access to Elvis between shows to talk if you do so. You dress accordingly, carefully putting on your makeup and doing your hair up nicely to give yourself as much confidence as possible. After repacking your toiletries, you grab your clutch and see the silky pink scarf folded neatly inside.

It takes only a moment for you to decide to put it around your neck. It’ll guarantee that Elvis will make time to see you, and you try not to shiver at the fact that the last time you wore this scarf, it led to a decidedly different outcome than it will tonight. The thought sends both warmth to your core and dread into your heart. You don’t want to leave him.

But I have to.

You shift your thoughts instead to Red, wondering and fearing whatever he might have planned. You don’t know if he is planning to sit on the information he gleaned from your leaving Elvis’ suite this morning, or if he is looking to cause mayhem immediately, though considering Jack has not burst in angrily, you don’t think anything has been said yet.

Either way, you have to warn E, and you have to get the hell out before the shit hits the fan.

The afternoon quickly turns to evening, and you pump yourself up on the way downstairs, despite the nausea in your stomach, the exhaustion in your body, and the ache in your heart. Now that you are somewhat a part of the show, it is easy to get backstage, and while you’re not sure how you are going to be able to wait the few hours the show will take, you continually remind yourself that this is what you must do. You have no choice.

But I do, I do have a choice, a pesky little voice chimes in. Stay.

Shut up.

By the time Elvis makes his way backstage, you feel like you’re about to jump out of your skin. The way his bright eyes light up when he sees you and then how they flash heat when he sees the pink silk knotted around your neck fills you with both desire and anxiety. Being near him weakens your resolve because his charismatic energy rolls over you even from this distance, and he just looks so damn good in that white suit of his, but you knew that this would test you. You force what you hope is a normal a smile, but you see a look of confusion flash over his pretty face before his usual pre-show nerves take over. But he does not come over to you, for which you are grateful.

The show begins with the usual fanfare, and you are surprised that even with everything going on in your head (or perhaps because of it), you still get swept up in the music, still sing the parts quietly that you have so diligently practiced. Regret hits you from another angle, one you did not anticipate. In leaving Vegas, you’ll also be leaving this—the show, the music.

Doubt creeps in in earnest throughout the show, putting your nerves even more on edge. You don’t really want to leave this opportunity, but the problem is you don’t think you have the fortitude to stay and to be able to resist Elvis.

The curtain closes and Elvis is surrounded, soaked with sweat, riding that post-show high that makes him nearly glow from the inside out. He wipes his face with the towel someone has draped over him, and you watch as he pulls Jerry aside with a glint in his eye, presumably to arrange your meet with him. But Jerry leans back and whispers something into E’s ear and that handsome face clouds with dark emotion. Then Elvis finds you past the crowd and his eyes lock on and you know. You know he knows by the hurt and angry look in his piercing blue eyes.

Sandy.

Goddammit.

As Elvis stalks over to you, pushing through musicians and instruments, it’s evident that Sandy has betrayed you. She told Jerry. And whether she meant for him to tell Elvis, you do not know, but your heart speeds up as Elvis crosses the backstage area in long, quick strides, with a wounded and feral look in his eyes that frightens you. It is not at all the same as the jealousy from the night prior; no, this is damage done on another scale.

You cannot help but back up as he approaches, nearly falling back over your chair, but he is on you in an instant, grabbing your arm firmly with one hand and your waist with the other, seemingly uncaring of the confused looks of his entourage that has been left behind so uncharacteristically. Luckily, Jack is nowhere to been seen, but you catch Red’s smirk before Elvis manhandles you into the hallway.

He doesn’t speak, not yet, though you see his brewing temper play over his face. Your heart drops because it is so obvious how you’ve truly hurt him, and he practically carries you back to the dressing room so quickly that you barely have time to register what that means. Once inside, he releases you and you tumble forward before he slams the door with too much force and flicks the lock.

As you straighten, you attempt to brace yourself for what you think you know is coming. Your nerves are on pins and needles, and you can’t help the lightheaded feeling that comes over you as you watch him fume. His chest heaves with both the exertion from his performance and his building fury, which makes for a dangerous combination.

You realize too late that perhaps you didn’t think this through.

“Is it true?” Elvis growls, rounding on you. “Are you trying to leave?” The pain is palpable in his stormy eyes and is layered with indignation.

The words catch in your throat. You finally force yourself to nod, attempting to find your voice in the meantime.

“What the fuck, y/n? What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” his voice raises, as he paces the room like a caged animal. His eyes are icy now, glaring at you in such a way that you feel it to your toes. His white suit clings to him with the moisture of his sweat, which gleams off his tan skin, distracting you.

You finally find your voice. “I’m leaving, Elvis. For my sake and for yours,” you breathe out. Your heart threatens to shatter at the words.

“The fuck you are,” he flips back at you.

“Excuse me?” you huff.

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, honey,” he points at you sternly.

“That’s not up to you,” you sputter, blinking rapidly.

“The hell it ain’t,” he glares.

Elvis’ eyes flash and he advances towards you. Your heart thunders in your ears and you counter backwards until he has your back against the wall. He grabs your chin with his hand, his rings cutting into you.

“I thought I fucked some sense into you last night, but it seems I fucked it out of you instead,” he purrs dark and low, but it is laced with threat.

You hold back a groan at his words. The sound of his voice and the look on his gorgeous face as he rakes his eyes over you sends both dread and heat through you all at once. You should have known he’d put up a fight. This is why you’d wanted to leave right away. Resisting him feels insane and futile.

“E, Red knows. He caught me coming out of your room this morning, and I just know he’s gonna make trouble,” you ramble out, trying to skirt around him. He boxes you in with his arms.

“Fuck Red. I’ll take care of him,” Elvis spits, eyes flashing but barely giving it a second thought because his sole focus is you. Then you see him eyeing his scarf around your neck. Wordlessly, slowly, he unties it, his calloused fingers brushing the skin of your neck and making you shiver. “Now tell me why you’re really leavin’, honey,” he commands, but the lilt in pitch betrays his sensitivity to those who know him well enough. And you do.

Oh, god, the way his smokey eyes bore into you, intoxicate you, has you frozen and your mouth dry. All the words you prepared to say are gone in an instant. You can’t tell him everything (you can’t), but his hurt and his need to dominate you because of it drives his actions, and you know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

“Hmm,” he shakes his head, a darkness overcoming him. “Guess I gotta find another way to get it out of you. Give me your hands,” he orders. You are caught in his gaze and feel powerless to deny him. Begrudgingly, you obey, holding out your hands.

You watch as he ties one end of the silky scarf to your left wrist. It’s tight, but not uncomfortable. Your brow furrows in confusion as he pulls your arms up, and it is then that you notice the bar, which must be used as a clothing rack, attached to the wall above your head.

Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest. “Elvis, what’re you doing?” you squeak out as he wraps the scarf over the bar and attaches it tightly to your other wrist. Your arms are loose and your feet remain planted on the floor, as the bar is not that high up, but you are effectively trapped.

“Well, honey, you keep tryin’ to run away from me and I need answers,” he glowers, amusement playing under his anger.

“Goddammit, this isn’t funny, let me go!” you say shrilly, yanking your arms but only succeeding in making the scarf tighter around your wrists.

“No, you’re right, it ain’t funny at all. Were you just gonna steal away in the dead of night without talkin’ to me?” he asks, the hurt back in his voice.

“No, I…no, that’s not what I wanted…” But it is almost what you did, and he seems to know it.

His eyes flash with realization at your unspoken words, then narrow as he moves closer. You look away, shamed. He grabs your chin again, his rings cold against your skin, and forces you to look at him.

“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.” He says it like a pleading promise and a stark demand all at once.

Oh, Jesus, it makes you ache for him in every way. You can feel your resolve crumbling around you, all your reasons for leaving melting into a puddle at your feet.

“We can’t Elvis. We can’t keep doing this. I’m losing my mind,” you say but Elvis has his head buried in your neck now, his lips and tongue dragging across your skin and setting your entire body aflame. Resisting him is like resisting gravity—an impossible feat.

“Why would you do this to me, lil’ mama?” he whispers in your ear, his hand brushing away your hair so his breath tickles against you. The sensation immediately has your body at attention, like a switch has been flipped. Your nerves tingle, your nipples stand at attention with just the temptation of that raspy baritone.

Despite yourself, despite the angel on your shoulder screaming at you, once again, that this is a bad idea, your mouth pops open with a sigh. His other hand cups your cheek as his lips travel over your face, so close that those long, dark lashes brush against you in their wake. This sends another thrill of sensation through you.

It’s agonizing that you can’t touch him, which you know is exactly the point.

Elvis presses you against the wall, and his thumb is dragging slowly over your bottom lip. It takes everything you have to not disintegrate right there and then. The way he makes you feel—it’s like you have no sense of reality when around him like this. He is your drug of choice. And you keep coming back to him again and again.

“Tell me why you don’t want me,” he asks in a boyish whisper, his bedroom eyes deadly serious, filled with anger and hurt and need and lust. All for you. Only Elvis could look so entirely innocent and completely sinful all at once.

His words cut you, as you think he intended. You wish you could make him understand, but your breathing is fast, too fast. You are dizzy from the scent of him, all sweat and musk. He’s dripping with it. Your eyes roll back.

“Dammit, E, of course I want you,” you breathe, “but when we get caught, which we are seconds away from, I’m the one who’s life blows up. I’m the one who’ll have to face the consequences. It all comes back on me, and…I don’t have anything without Jack.” You can’t let yourself forget it.

The way Elvis looks at you now is fierce. He grabs both of your cheeks roughly, his hands like fire against them.

“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”

The sentiment hits you sideways, flooring you. He’s staring at you so intensely you feel completely gone, weak. There is nothing else but him.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathes seductively, nuzzling your nose. “Let me be your everything.”

Oh, sweet lord…

“Elvis…” His name escapes you like a hushed prayer. You are defenseless against him, your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, stealing your breath away completely.

The temptation of what he is saying is so strong that you want to give in to him immediately. It’s almost everything you want to hear, which is the problem. You think he’ll say anything to get what he wants. You love him, but you know he’s a master at manipulation—it’s how he’s so damn good at his craft. It’s how he so effectively hypnotizes the masses. You think half the time he doesn’t even realize what’s he’s doing, but knowing him as you do, you know he is too shrewd for ignorance.

But part of you refuses to believe him, what he’s saying, even now. Part of you is still reeling from the pain and the fear of your recently uncovered memories. And the fact is, he is still hiding things from you, and you are still married to Jack.

Elvis bows his head, his soft lips now mere millimeters from yours, his hot breath mingling with the heat of your own. But he does not close the gap. He’s waiting, waiting for you to decide. He’s impatient, nearly shaking with anticipation.

You came here to end it, you did (didn’t I?), but he’s like the sun, pulling you into his orbit. Desperate, you find your voice, doing your best to be strong.

“Elvis, I am still married. You know as well as I do how complicated it is with Jack, and he’s not going to take kindly to this when he finds out. And he will. We both know he will. He’s your friend. You can’t have it both ways, and neither can I. But I can’t be near you without wanting you, so something’s gotta give. That’s why I have to go. That, and all the secrets, the lies…It’s tearing me apart inside,” you plead with him. And I know you’re keeping something from me, but those words don’t make it out of your mouth.

His brow furrows and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head. Then something significant shifts, that dark look clouding his eyes once more.

“Jack ain’t shit. Fuck him. And, baby, I’ll tear your marriage to shreds and throw it in the trash, just like that,” Elvis snarls, snapping his fingers in your face, his endless eyes burning into yours. His vehemence has you shaking, your eyes going big. “I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to pay off. I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”

Holy shit.

A shocked beat, your breath held in a pause before it quickens again. Elvis is choosing you over Jack. Elvis wants you to end your marriage for him (or more accurately, wants to end it for you). This means that he is much more serious about this, about you, than you thought. Your heart plummets into your stomach and warmth blossoms over your body. You are both elated and terrified by what he is asking of you. All words escape you.

“Still need a little more convincing, huh?” His lip curls into a smirk, sending a coil of desire into your belly. Pushing you up against the wall, he grinds his hips into you, your arms straining against their bonds. You know now that this is his way, his way of proving to you the truth of his words. A whimper escapes your lips, causing him to grin even more. He has you right where he wants you, which is infuriating and exhilarating.

Elvis gets close, his full lips so tantalizingly near that you can almost taste their pillowy sweetness, but he still does not kiss you, only tempts you as his breath blends with yours. As much as you want to, you do not submit, you do not close the gap, your stubbornness and lingering doubt dampening your near-consuming desire.

All your churning emotions of the past few days keep you silent. Confusion, fear, anger, shock, love—all of it only fuels your passion for him, a love so consuming it eats you alive. But you also don’t want him to have the satisfaction of you giving into him. He’s right: he does usually get what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you have to make it easy on him.

Elvis watches your reaction carefully as he yanks your dress up over your hips. Then he groans, a deep, carnal sound as he grinds into you once more, his arousal evident and the metal of his ornate belt biting against your pelvis. You bite your lip to keep from making the noises that threaten to escape you, but your breathing is starting to become even more labored. There is an element of calculated control in his flaming eyes, combined with power and need. He doesn’t let you look away.

Elvis grabs the back of one of your thighs, pulling it up to his hip, running his hand over your bare flesh from your knee up to your panties, his fingers dancing just under the elastic. You hold back the hiss that wants to escape you. God, you want to touch him, to claw at his bare chest, but the scarf holds you fast and you grip its strong silk for dear life.

When he lets go just long enough to pull the zipper of his fly, pulling out his cock, your eyes widen, then fall closed. You feel as he tugs your underwear to the side, his fingers swiping through your folds. You bite your lip at the feel of his fingers prodding at you so roughly. But with your churning emotions desperately trying to keep your desire at bay, you are not nearly wet enough to take him yet.

“Look at me,” he demands, and you do. You are powerless not to.

Reaching his hand up, he looks you right in the eye as he spits in it, then reaches down to cover his cock, lubricating it fully. You gulp. A shiver of anticipation races down your spine. Taking a long moment to gather more saliva, he spits in his hand again before snaking it between your thighs to smear your pussy with it, watching your reaction carefully. You can’t help but moan at the sensation of the warm slick.

True to his word, nothing stops him from taking what he wants as he brusquely lifts your legs around his waist and enters you with a quick, hard thrust and a deep grunt.

You gasp loudly at how Elvis fills you so completely, both with surprise and with pain of the pleasurable sort. You are so tight, too tight, and while your arousal pools, it has not yet coated your walls, making his saliva the only lubrication to ease the friction. You claw at the silk scarf, trying to push back against the wall in retreat, but he chases you, pausing for only a moment as you attempt to adjust to him. He starts rocking into you, but his thrusts are not gentle—they are powerful, claiming. You continue to hold back the noises that want to escape your mouth, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing your pleasure.

“Why ya gotta be so fuckin’ stubborn, baby? You really makin’ me take you this damn hard to remind ya just who ya belong to?” he growls seductively into your ear as he drives into you harder. Your head falls back onto the wall and your eyes flutter. This shouldn’t be so satisfying, but you can’t deny how it makes you feel, how he makes you feel. Your arousal pools around him at his words, at his audacity, and it gives you away as he slides more easily in and out of you. Then that damn lip of his dares to curl up again into a knowing smile.

His baritone rumbles in your ear as he fucks you more vigorously, each thrust punctuating his words, as if driving them deeply into your body and mind. “I’m not lettin’ you outta my sight after this little stunt of yours, honey, not for one damn minute. In fact,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re going on stage with me for the rest of my shows, starting tonight. Your debut performance.”

You can’t hold back your choked gasp at that.

“You’re all mine now.” Elvis’ hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just tight enough to let you know he means it. “Now, be a good girl and say it for me.”

Your brain fights against him—possession is not love! Sex is not love! it screams at you—and you don’t want to give him this, but you know the truth of it: you are his. You’ve been his for a while now. And you relish in it. You want so desperately for it to be more than that, but you are too weary of denying yourself of the obvious.

“I’m…y-yours,” you gasp out. He fucks it out of you.

The corner of his mouth briefly lifts in satisfaction before returning to his relentless railing of you and his ongoing, heated diatribe: “You’ll stay in my room, my bed, and we’ll fuck whenever we damn please, honey. I don’t care who fuckin’ knows. Let Jack try and come for you…see what happens,” he threatens, grunting as his thrusts become more erratic.

You don’t even recognize the moan that comes from you at that. The fact that he will take Jack head on for you sends an inexplicable rush through your system. The coil in your belly tightens rapidly now, but Elvis is too far ahead of you, too consumed with his lust and his need to claim you as his own.

“Tell me you’ll stay,” he says in your ear. It comes out more needy, breathless, pleading, than you think he intended, which tugs at your heart, telling you what you need to know, at least for now.

You have no choice, not anymore. Neither your heart nor Elvis’ will allow it.

“I’ll stay,” you whisper, finally conceding.

“There’s my girl,” he groans, then plunges in so deep and fast that the wind is knocked out of you. You both cry out as he pulses again and again, filling and coating you with his need, his teeth digging into your shoulder as he climaxes.

You both gasp for breath, him from his release, you from the shock of his words as they settle within you. After a moment of recovery, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, sets you gently back on the ground, and unties your hands. Your legs feel wobbly and your hands tingle with a burning sensation, rubbed a little raw at the wrists. Elvis kisses each wrist softly, making that unrelieved coil in your belly cinch even tighter as he wraps the scarf around your neck. You wince at the pins and needles in your arms as you shake them to regain circulation.

You wait to see what he has in store for you next, but he just looks a little jaded, uncharacteristically making no effort to alleviate your need. He turns and walks all the way back into the bathroom, and you follow silently.

You look at him questioningly in the mirror as he cleans off, that coil in your belly poised and ready, but unfed. He’s never left you unsatisfied before. But you also don’t want to push him right now. Things still feel too tenuous.

He finally acknowledges you in the mirror, looking over your mussed and flustered state and immediately gleaning the reason for your hovering. “Honey…I’ll deal with you later,” Elvis tuts in a reprimanding tone, his left eyebrow raising, his blues still chilly towards you.

He’s being petty, but you suppose you deserve that to an extent. You resist the urge to pout, instead choosing to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing against the sweaty heat of his back. You want him to forgive you, want to be in his warmth, want him to love you as you love him. But for now, you’ll accept the relief of not having to leave him.

Let me take care of you…Let me be your everything.

The memory of his words sends warmth radiating through your chest, even if he just said it to get you to stay. Even if he didn’t really mean it.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. And you are.

Elvis doesn’t move for a moment, just letting you cling to him. Then he turns, bringing you close, and he finally kisses you, his pliant lips pressing hard and fierce and wanting against yours.

“Don’t ever try to leave me like that again, baby,” he says, pulling away, looking deeply into your eyes. He is trying, you think, to be as possessive and demanding as before, but the edge of his anger has been tempered, quelled, and has turned into something more imploring. Then, with that quintessentially Elvispuppy-dog look on his face, he blinks slowly and quietly adds, “I need you,” as though just realizing it himself.

And, with that, you realize for the first time that despite all your doubts, despite what he is hiding from you, despite every obstacle that wants to pile against you, the shitstorm that is coming is still going to hit hard, but it will hit you two together.

Taglist:

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Love Through the Ages (Jason Todd)

Summary: Love like baggage needs to be declared.

a/n: This is part three of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots. Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans. I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself. ALSO, y'all can thank @littleredwing89 for the poem that comes up.

Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist.

You tap at your phone screen, planting seeds in a satisfyingly hypnotic rhythm, the sounds of the train vacillating in and out of your periphery. It was soothing having your own compartment, a little world you can isolate yourself in while you anxiously await for the inevitable.

It wasn’t a secret that you found Gotham stressful. It was about as much a secret as Tony Stark’s civilian identity. You pulled your knees up to your chest at the thought. Big cities were stressful but Gotham was a different beast entirely. It was a writhing monster of steel and smoke. You wrinkle your nose deciding to sweep the thought away.

Instead, you concentrate on your plants and your farm. You wince looking at your journal. It looks like you’d forgotten another quest. Pursing your lips, you decide to turn your phone off for a bit and pretend the NPCs can sort it out on their own as you look out the window.

You lean against the wall, pressing your cheek to the cool window. You can’t help but smile to yourself thinking of a sea of black curly hair interrupted by a shock of white, sea green eye perpetually alight with mischief or intelligence (9 times out of 10, you really couldn’t tell which it was.), freckles like star map, and a mouth permanently set in a cocky grin. It’s hard not to smile like an idiot when thinking of Jason Todd.

Your skirt flutters in the wind as you dance your way through the crowd, bobbing up and down on your tiptoes over the sea of humans. Sometimes the smell of them still makes your mouth water but not now, not when the smell of Gotham is so pungent in the air.

You see a gloved hand wave at you on the other side of the crowd. You pin your sunhat against your head as you rush through the crowd, your luggage dragging behind you.

Jason waves a two fingered salute at you in front of a motorcycle, his foot clearly stomping a cigarette. You toss your hat to him. It flutters over the crowd. Jason catches it easily, putting it on his own head.

"Hey Princess, welcome back." Jason greets, the syllables of your native French gliding off of his tongue so easily. Fighting down a blush, you swallow your own greeting. Jason would have been a great ambassador in a different life were he not inclined to murder someone with a desert spoon for being a jackass.

He offers his hat back to you, but you shake your head. "You might freckle too much in Gotham's sunny weather." He gives you a hearty chuckle keeping the hat on.

"Missed you too, princess."

You roll your eyes. Pinching your nose, you look around. "You forgot to tell me to bring a gas mask."

"Every city smells like this."

"Darling, you've been in Gotham for too long."

"And you've been in your French villa for too long." Jason says, putting his sunglasses on you. You glare at him through them.

"First of all, it's a cottage."

Jason snorts, "As if that makes a difference. It's still in the idyllic French countryside, isn't it?"

"I-"

"I rest my case."

You cross your arms. "You're welcome to visit, you know?" It was a hopeful suggestion at best.

"We both know the quiet will drive me crazy."

"I said visit," you say, "besides, I think the train ride alone would drive you up the wall." You remember how Jason is with tight spaces.

"Not with you there." Jason winks.

Your heart presses a bruise into your throat and you hate Jason Peter Todd all over again.

"Ah yes, you plan on driving me mad. Evil. Truly evil of you." You say, grinning back at him.

"Here's a wild idea, how bout we just not listen to Roy? How does that sound?" Jason gently suggests, handing you your offensively pink cup of caffeinated goop. Jason can smell the sickening amount of sweeteners added. He might gag.

"Nope," you say, smiling at him as you slurp your ooze. Jason's stomach rolls. Alfred would have an aneurysm. "He was even nice enough to get us both tickets." You hand him one, fingers brushing against his. They felt calloused as they always did. Jason suppresses any oncoming reaction.

He instead turns his attention to the ticket in his hands. Love Through the Ages: Gotham Museum Exhibition on expressions of love. Jason runs through the numbers. "These are $59 each."

"So sweet of him, isn't it?" You chirp adorably.

Jason makes a mental note to kill both of you. "You're only going along with this cus you want to watch me suffer." Jason says, slumping his chair. His foot kicks out to tap your foot.

"I'm doing it affectionately," you say, tapping his foot with yours. "Besides, it's a universal pass time at this point." You swirl your drink and grin at him. It was your real grin, all bright and eager and stupidly sweet. Something in Jason's chest twists. It's always hard to breathe when you smile at him but really Jason would rather all the oxygen in the atmosphere be burned up than see your smile disappear.

He sounds dramatic and he knows that but still he knows it's true.

"C'mon Jay, it'll be fun."

Shoulders slouched, Jason smiles at you indulgently. "Fun for who?"

"Mainly me but you can have fun too."

"You are so lucky you're adorable when you're being evil."

Your smile brightens and with a tap of his foot against yours, he thinks he'll survive whatever Roy has in store for him.

You and Jason have been walking around the museum for quite a bit with Jason's arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders and homicide radiating off of him every time someone even looks at you funny. He'd said that the arm slung around your shoulder was so that you wouldn't get lost. As for the homicide, he elected to ignore the question entirely.

You flush as Jason quotes another line from 'Master Valentine' back to you. You definitely regret letting him house sit. You regret even more not hiding your books. You squirm as Jason whispers the quote in your ear in a husky drawl. The erotica in the book is amazing and you're normally comfortable with talking to Jason about everything, but this- this was just cruel and unusual punishment. It's what you get for trying to make him suffer.

All the pet names he murmured in your ear crawled up your spine. You shove his face away hiding your own in your sleeve. He laughs into your hand enjoying your sudden bout of shyness.

Jason mumbles a half-hearted apology into your hand, pressing a soft kiss into your palm. You lower your head. You're still clearly avoiding his gaze but you let him press you to his side. Jason Todd is an asshole.

You point to a pair of ice skates so well worn and well loved that you almost miss the little penguins stitched on the side. "Love on the ice? That's so cute!"

Jason glances at them with mild interest. "Sounds like hypothermia." He says, shrugging.

Swatting at his chest, you pout at him. He rolls his eyes nudging your shoulder with his. You scowl at him and stick your tongue out. Jason leans down, unable to stop the urge to press a kiss to your brow. You scowl even harder.

"Admit it, doll. The whole exhibition is just Dickie's favorite fanfiction tropes."

"Professor Todd, be a dear and enlighten my troglodyte ass."

He snorts, "Princess, if I was a professor we both know I'd have the highest attendance rate."

"And the highest failure rate." You say cocking a brow.

"Probably."

"You're terribly humble today."

"I just know I look good."

No, you don't, you think. You shake your head. "That explains the leather jacket."

"You love my leather jacket."

"Well, Biscuit certainly loved your previous one."

Jason wrinkled his nose thinking of the yellow disaster. "That dog was a menace."

"She is the sweetest creature on earth."

"She destroyed my jacket and ate my wallet AND phone."

"I never said she was smart... wait, we're getting off topic."

Jason narrows his eyes at you then points to a crown. It was an intricate lattice of silvers and golds with diamonds that glittered like starlight. "Royal AU," he says simply, "go on read the description."

"A prince and a princess from rival nations are bound by a marriage of convenience. Through a series of missteps. They fell for each other.... that one was pretty easy. Do it again."

He points to a blue feather. "Mythology AU."

You arch a brow at him. He waves at it, urging you to read. "A god descended to earth to be with his mortal lover only for him to lose his memories of her." The feather's glow is incandescent. You can feel the power radiating off of it, a sure sign of divinity.

Once, you would have brushed it off as mere story. You've spent more than twice your lifetime now dipped into the world of myths. You glance at Jason. Simple divinity no longer fazes you.

"See?"

"I- Nope."

"You're just being stubborn."

"Would you have been my friend if I wasn't?" Would you have saved me if I wasn't?

You think Jason hears your unspoken question when he frowns. Instead, he turns on his heel to face the other direction. He points to a bouquet of wilted roses tied together by a green ribbon. They still smell of blood and something you couldn't identify. Your eyes drift down curious. Your eyes trace over the words feeling your stomach tumble.

"Gruesome." Jason vocalizes inanely. He hooks his head on the crown of your head, neatly slotting your body under his. You're safe, surrounded by walls of muscle. The crease in your brow softens. You would think that Jason would be less protective after you'd turned but now that you were a vampire, he was somehow even more protective. Roy always joked you only got Biscuit and your other dogs as lap dogs because you already had Jason. He may not have been too off on his guess.

"This should be in a horror exhibit," you say leaning into Jason's chest, "kind of reminds me of you though." You tilt your head up grinning at him.

"If you make a joke about me being jack the ripper again, I swear I'll-"

"-Bury me alive 6 feet under concrete with a recording of Roy singing Auld Lang Syne in a terrible British accent. Got it. What I meant was... you're just as protective as the man in the story." You say, smiling at him.

For good reason, Jason thinks.

Jason buries half of his face in your hair, hiding his answering smile. You smell like sugar and cinnamon. It's a familiar combination of smells that puts him at ease despite the atrocious amount of people in the museum.

You point to another artifact, afraid that you'd accidentally picked at an old wound.

"Star-crossed lovers." He mumbles into your hair.

"Bullshit!"

"Read it and weep, doll."

You read the plaque and the words 'meet' and 'different world' assault your eyes. You scowl at him. "Fuck you."

The grin on Jason's face is genuine. It makes something in your veins sing knowing how much fun he's having.

Your face softens. "You really love this romance stuff, huh?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you.

"You were the one bawling your eyes out when we binged Spaces Between Us. Who the hell cries during erotica?"

"IT'S TRUE LOVE AND YOU KNOW IT IN YOUR SOUL," you protest, pounding your fist against his chest,"besides, you're the one who was crying nonstop when we watched the IDHY duology."

"I was crying because they were accurate book adaptations."

You blink at him confused. "There's a book?"

"Yes, you illiterate heathen."

"You sound like a conquistador."

“....”

"At least they got their happy ending." You say, changing the subject.

"That's true."

"Still better than Titanic."

He furrows his brow at you. "What's wrong with the Titanic?"

"First of all," You pitch your shoulders like you're about to give him a lecture, "That was 3 hours of my life wasted on a shitty movie. It wasn't even that accurate."

"Princess, not everyone can survive the Arctic."

"And second, the most romantic scene in that romantic movie was the old couple staying together as they sank."

Jason laughs, a deep rumbling sound. It scrambles your brain, almost dissolving your annoyance until he opens his mouth again. "You sound like Damian."

"Jason Peter Todd, take that back." You screech, swiping at him.

He jumps back, his laughter still echoing. "Stop sounding like the demon brat first."

You run after him, telegraphing your murderous intent. Jason walks away faster, sticking his tongue out at you. Your growl and claw at the air. You screech obscenities as Jason continues to evade you. He is having way too much fun with this.

You chase Jason around the exhibition for a solid half hour before you come to a skittering halt.

Your eyes land on a vermillion book, leather bound and carefully crafted by skilled hands. You step closer to admire the swirling, arabesque patterns lining the leather. No title is embossed on the front. It's thick. You would wager it was at least 400 pages.

Your eyes drift down even further, finding a familiar scrawl. Below the book were photocopies of some of the pages. Pablo Neruda's 'If You Forget me', Beethoven's 'Immortal beloved', Ibn Hazm's 'My Heart', and a bunch of other poets you didn't know but recognized as ...

"Jason these are your favorites."

"What?" He says, walking over to you cautiously.

You look back down at the pages and your eyes catch on the one in the middle. From the numbering, it was the last.

Love is such a hard thing to define,

I don’t know if I could ever find,

The words to truly express the complexity of such an emotion.

It is an emotion felt in the heart,

Long before it makes sense to the mind,

illusive and uncertain until suddenly it just clicks.

Like so many things in this world,

we tend to know it when we see it in others,

even if we can’t be sure of it ourselves.

I think I’ve always known how much I love you,

When I look at you,

I see everything I’ve ever wanted.

When I look at you,

I see nothing else but your perfect beauty.

Inside and out.

I'm not a poet, (Y/n), but I will tell you anyway I can how much I love you.

-Jason Peter Todd

Jason is a stone next to you.

His mouth is filled with sand as he looks at the far too familiar handwriting. He knew. He knew the moment he saw the red book what it was. Hell, the moment you told Jason it was Roy who told you to go to the museum, he knew what it was. God, why can't he just turn to ash.

Jason can't make himself turn to you. He can't bear to see what ever disgusted expression you make. He just can't.

He feels a tug on his sleeve. He doesn't move. He feels another tug, this time harder. When he doesn't respond the second time, you lace your fingers in his and spin him around.

You squish his cheeks in your hands. "Jason, you actual sap." You say. You look like you're glowing. You beam at him, all toothy and scrunched faced. Jason's lungs stop working again. His mind can't process what you're saying. All Jason knows is that something warm is crowding his chest, pushing everything else out.

"Wha?"

"Jason, you absolute dork!" You repeat, unfazed by his temporary bout of insanity.

Jason is blushing, looking like a strawberry with his freckles. Jason is more adorable than anyone has any right to be. But that's ok. That's perfectly ok cus he's yours.

In a moment of uncontained affection, you pull Jason to you, pressing a kiss against his lips. It's soft and earnest and exciting. It was a kiss Jason spent lifetimes dreaming about. It was you and completely you.

"Jay, they're beautiful." You say in a breathless laugh.

Jason looked down at his feet. "I-" was never planning on giving it to you, he thinks. Because, why would you ever love someone like Jason? Especially, after what he'd done to you.

As if reading his mind, you press your forehead against his. "I love you too, Jay, and you can't argue me out of it. Sorry bud, you're stuck with me."

Jason can't help the smile as it curls on his lips.

He's happy. He's so stupidly happy and he blames you.

"Plus, I already knew."

"Why didn't you say it first?" He asks, his fingers brushing against his tingling lips.

"Cus," you say, pirouetting away from him, "you wouldn't believe me if I did."

"How-"

You put your hand up. "Trust me, Jay. I've tried before." You tilt your head back looking up at the sky light. The curtain of light fell on you like a spotlight highlighting everything ethereal about you. "Remember in Milan? When I told you I cared about you and you told me I didn't."

Jason remembered that. He was angrier back then. He snarled that to you like some wild animal and threatened to throw you out on your ass if you ever so much as spoke a word of that nonsense again. It was the first time he'd seen you look hurt. You face was wide open with shock. Jason felt something in his chest tear at that look. He stormed off, leaving you in that room.

When he came back, you offered him warm tea and a smile. You were quiet, inconsolably quiet.

It didn't…

He didn't…

It didn't occur to him that look in your eyes was heartbreak.

Jason curses under his breath.

You chortle at him, the mirth in your eyes incandescent.

"Yeah. Exactly." You say, clasping your hands behind your back. Jason would like to be buried six feet under with the only words carved into his gravestone 'I am so sorry (Y/n)'.

You snick seeing the look in his eyes. "Or that time in Paris. The one in the little patisserie when I told you in perfect Catalan that you meant more to me than anything else and do you remember what you told me?"

"I told you you were possessed." Jason's shoulders slump. "Please tell me you don't have a third example."

You smile at him pityingly. "I don't-"

"OH THANK FU-"

"I have 50. Well, 51 but the last one didn't count since I was joking that time."

In Jason's mind, his jaw hits the obsidian floor with an audible 'plop'. It would be loud enough that the entire museum would hear it were it real. He blinks at you. "You tried more than 10 times?"

"I was encouraged." You say shrugging.

"Of course, you were," he grumbles and you laugh. Jason's heart skips a beat but he pushes past the feeling in favor of pleading with you. "Please don't list them."

"Oh, I'm not." You hum.

Jason sighs with relief.

"I'm gonna leave that to Roy."

"Son of a- He knows?"

You look over your shoulder. "Yeah. Who do you think I complain to?"

"Who else knows?" He asks, trailing behind you as you walk to .... Jason doesn't know at this point and he doubts you do too.

"Oh just your family."

"I'm surprised they haven't given me shit about it."

"Oh I bullied them into not doing it."

"Impressive." He whistles and you preen.

"Always," you say smugly. You begin to walk a bit faster, craning your neck. "Now, let's go find out if Dickie installed that bakery I asked for."

"That's what you're after?" Jason laughs.

"It's a noble goal." You protest.

"You don't even need to feed."

"I need to feed my inner sweets monster. She's very fussy and is demanding crepes specifically."

Jason smiles softly at you, amused that of all the human traits you could have retained after being turned was a sweet tooth.

"Sorry to tell you doll face, Dickie still hasn't done it."

You look aghast like he'd slapped you in the face with a large baguette.

"What?!"

"He hasn't put in your suggestion from 10 years ago."

"Where am I supposed to get my fix?"

"Are we still talking about sweets or have you moved on to cocaine?"

"Dunno, have you tried snorting sugar?"

"No. Why- Have you?"

"...my lawyer advised against answering this question."

Jason cackles. "How am I the stupid one?"

"I-" Your scowl turns sickeningly sweet. "Yanno, the third time I tried was when-"

"OK. Stop." Jason's face lights up again. "I give."

"Pfff." You smile, looking far too pleased with yourself.

Jason straightens up, something sly passing through his eyes. You stop. The look in his eyes makes you nervous.

"I think I know where you can get something sweet."

You swallow nervously.

Jason leans in. He’s so close to you. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. Nothing else around you seems to exist at the moment.

You lean in to kiss him but you freeze when you register his voice.

“I’m taking you downtown. There’s a new bakery there and I heard the crepes were to die for.” He chuckles, turning to walk towards the exit.

“What the hell?!” You call out falling into step with him.

He grins down at you, arms folded behind his head. “Something wrong, princess?”

Heat rises in your cheeks and elbow him in the side.

“I want to take you on a proper date and I sure as hell am not starting here.” He says, rubbing his side and conspicuously not looking at you. There’s a dust of peach on his face. Your anger fades away. It gives way to a fluttering in your chest.

“Where?”

He looks at you then, brow furrowed.

“Why don’t I take you to the fair, princess? There’s plenty of sweet treats there that’ll tickle your fancy.”

Your mouth waters when you think about all the cotton candy they have.

“I heard there’s a kissing booth too, so if you’re lucky,” Jason continues, winking at you. Predictably, you blanch at him. You knock your knuckles against his chest. Jason chuckles, rubbing his chest. “Sorry princess, I mean if I’m lucky enough to get a kiss from you.”

The temerity.

The gall.

“As long as you get me something sweet.” You huff, exiting the building.

Jason stops on the steps, turning to you with a sly smile. Crossing your arms, you pause bracing for whatever trick is up his sleeve. Jason tilts his head. He says something but the little noises of the city make the words hard to discern. You lean closer to hear him better. Jason steps closer to close the distance, his lips warm against yours. You’re stunned. Your entire body divided on how to react, some parts stiffen while others turn to jelly.

He pulls away, wolfish grin unwavering. "That sweet enough for you sweetheart?"

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz, @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #vampire au #food

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mtraki · 4 years ago

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Y'all, it's another rant (uh, apparently people like those or something as the last one got more notes immediately than most of any kind of thing I make here). This one is a little spicier, but it's still full of love for Hitman, the team who made it, and the characters most especially. And y'all. Much love to y'all. Read More if you want it. All spoilers unmarked as before.

Let me be frank: Diana was robbed.

For awhile now, and especially since reading through some fanfic, other content creator analysis, and fan theories, something about Diana has rubbed me the wrong way. Now, don't get me wrong (please put down the garrottes and explosive rubber duckies, I CAN EXPLAIN!) I love Diana Burnwood as a character and as an expositor. I love all three of her VAs, though I have to say I'm a bit partial to Ms Jane Perry's rendition. I love her understanding of her strengths and her ruthless inclination to use them to suit her purpose. I love the way she speaks to 47 with familiarity and warmth and injects wry humor or irritation into her comments like she's trying to poke at him and get a kind of reaction out of him. I like that she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty if that's what's necessary. I think she's a beautiful set of polygons. But she was robbed of a character development arc. "Wait wait!" You cry, brandishing fire extinguishers to bash against my face, "She discovered the truth about her parents' murder! She betrayed the ICA and her active and very influential client (Providence) to help 47 and Lucas on their personal vengeance quest!"

Sure. But did these change her perspective of the world or herself? Did this alter the pattern that's repeated in every single narrative she's taken a role in?

"She learned she was a hypocrite! She let 47 go at the end!"

She 'lets 47 go' in several of the narratives she's in, starting with the comics.

She gives him the ICA contact information at the end of the comic series. She's fairly certain they'll hear from him, but does not prevent him from leaving. 47 kills Ort-Meyer at the end of the first game and disappears to Sicily for several years. Diana does not try to stop him. She lets him go. Diana 'betrays 47' at the end of Blood Money, but he survives Trojan Hitman(TM) The First and disappears for about a year. Diana does not try to stop him. She lets him go. Diana 'betrays 47' after Mendoza, but he survives Trojan Hitman(TM) The Second and disappears for about a year (per the ending cutscene 'New Deal'). Diana does not try to stop him. She lets him go.

The thing is... Diana is always right. This is important to her role as our (the Player's) expositor, and also as 47's 'conscience' (once that part of their working relationship becomes clear in the narrative). But once the narrative starts removing her from those roles in the WOA story, I really wish they had done more to navigate how she's also just a fallible human being with dubious morals that are also built on personal vengeance and a long, long history of literally manipulating everyone around her to her benefit (No really. She starts at fourteen with this mercenary thinking right after her parents die. Girl needed a therapist for REAL). It's okay that 47 thinks she's got everything handled and will "make everything right". He's supposed to. He doesn't know a different Diana. Every fake betrayal and real betrayal and double-agent play has worked out with apparently no negative consequences. The only time this wasn't 100% true was when she betrayed Benjamin Travis in Absolution and was put on a contract herself and subsequently shot by 47. But then we learn that even THAT was figured into her plan-- that 47 had been drinking enough of the 'Burnwood or Bust' Kool-Aid (TM) to not kill her outright even though he's never hesitated before. Mind you, this whole episode didn't happen to make Diana doubt herself... No, it was there to shake up 47. In fairness, she makes a couple 'foibles' in WOA. Andrews is under her and Olivia's watch when he escapes-- something Lucas blames her for. She gets 'captured' in turn by Andrews and joins Providence as a Herald (on probation)... But overall, her master plan goes down impressively. She becomes the next Constant even after orchestrating the deaths of both her rival and her predecessor (and having the doubts of most the rest of the Heralds) after successfully 'betraying' 47 again.

At least in my understanding of the dialogue and themes of the end of WOA, 47 never doubted Diana. There was that period in his subconscious where he doubted himself, but none of that seemed directed at her. He never doubted she was in control of the situation, never doubted she had the best intentions, and never doubted that this was another play. So it's no damn surprise he turns up a year later even though she risked his life and bodily autonomy without discussing it with him first, again. Playing for Team Burnwood comes with winning every time!

And that upsets me. Diana was robbed, and 47 was cheated of any real 'freedom of choice'. I don't mean things should have ended in disaster. Of course I want happy endings.

But I also want Diana to have grown enough to decide in the end that this Trojan Hitman(TM) plan risks someone not her the most, and so maybe that means planning with that person instead of deciding her way is best without the consent of others. If the game wants me to believe she recognizes that she's a hypocrite, then she shouldn't end her role in the game by being a damn hypocrite!

Let there be a reveal that 47 was in on the 'betrayal' plan! Let his insecurity in the subconscious be more about who he is going to be in the future now that Diana has let him off her leash-- CAN he be somebody on his own? Making his own decisions?? He's literally never done it! It's scary-- and he has the capacity for fear as well as guilt, now! Let Andrews try to make this about Diana and her master plan and such and have 47 say he doesn't know what Andrews is talking about. Because whatever Diana does is up to Diana now, and doesn't have anything to do with 47... and what 47 does is up to 47 now, and Diana doesn't have anything to do with that.

This way, she has really let him go after having to admit to herself that she needed his help, and that she needed to ask for it instead of trick him, and really recognizes that she was a hypocrite trying to control another human being to do "what's best" for him. This way his return a year later actually looks like the start of something new instead of another run on the same hamster wheel.

Any other takes? I'm here for the discourse-- especially if you have canon clips or dialogue I missed!

#agent 47 #hitman #diana burnwood #world of assassination #MT is ranting #spicier rant this time #please put the murder implements down

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

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I Have Too Many Opinions. ep. 1

lmao. i got encouragement to post my opinions on fandom things and now i want to make a miniseries doing just that. so here i am. doing just that.

im putting it under the cut cuz this was 4 whole pages including the disclaimer. yes i put a disclaimer and i explain why.

Anyways, here is the first piece in what inevitably will become fandom info dump, this time on thomas astruc’s writing on miraculous ladybug. but only some of my opinions cuz we would be here all day otherwise.

So… a disclaimer before I begin…

I do not hate Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir (yes i'm using their government name). I am quite a fan of the show actually despite its faults. I am also older than the intended audience but was obviously younger when the show first aired which is how my interest was piqued (the fact that its been 6 years and only 3 seasons says more about the show than me being a fan for that amount of time but also i never want to rush content creators cuz they're doing their best) and due to my age, there will be inherent bias in my approach of what i'm about to say as there is in EVERY opinion. The fact that it is an opinion should imply the presence of bias but most people tend to lack the critical thinking skills required to draw that conclusion ANYWAYS…

If I did hate the show I would not have this blog nor would I be even writing this because i tend to not give more than 2 seconds of thought to things i actively dislike (some of yall should give this a try) and i'm allowed to like things that are designed for an audience that i was originally a part of but grew out of. (I don't suddenly stop liking things because I'm older despite what many younger fans seem to believe about older audiences. I also don't need to be ‘allowed’ to do anything cuz i wasn't asking for permission anyways.)

This will not be character bashing, astruc bashing nor fandom bashing cuz, again, that would imply i hate any of those elements and if i did, i would not dedicate brainpower to them. Analyses and criticisms of media are fun and engaging and required if you wish to produce good enjoyable content. Now most of this should be already assumed and self-explanatory but people on the internet like to play morality roulette roll dice on purity culture and I rather have documentation that I am in fact not bullying fictional 14 year olds or a grown man. But alas, people get trigger happy whenever someone has less than 1000000% positive opinions on something they like and will throw out words they can't define (gaslight, baiting, toxic, problematic, gatekeep etc) in an attempt to defend their blind devotion,

which is not needed, if you like something you never have to defend it, even if i don't like it. If you respond to anything I post saying you disagree with me, I will not argue with you. I won't debate back and forth and try to convince you that the things you like are wrong. Unless you are being absolutely tone deaf to what i'm saying, you wont get a negative reaction from me. So don't try to fish for a fight. Please. I got metaphorical hands for days and I'm mean, you don't want me hurting your feelings on the internet. Do yourself the favour. Difference of opinion is how we get diversification in media and is inherently a good thing. Now that that's out of the way, please don't ever let me have to say that again. I beg.

Now onto the fun stuff

I didn't know what I wanted as a first topic so my trusty internet friend @moonlitceleste suggested astruc’s writing…

AND BOI do i got some opinions on ole tommy boi. Again I don't hate the dude. In fact, he has worked on a few shows that had defined my childhood, including but not limited to W.I.T.C.H. (all eps available on youtube for those interested, 2 seasons, general fun time all around).

So I don't think he’s scum of the earth but I do think his approach to writing mlb specifically has more misses than hits.

The first big miss is that he has no idea how to write 14 year old girls. At all. Almost every girl he has ever written feels like some terrible archetype built entirely for marketability and childish projection and pubescent self-insert (kind of). He has never been a 14 year old girl. I have. In fact when the show first aired, I WAS around the (assumed) age of the mlb characters. The behaviour he passes off as quirky or awkward or just the character’s genuine personality tend to perpetuate harmful stereotypes of teen girls found in the media and are never actually addressed as harmful. they just get swept under the rug. Marinette’s exuberant collage of teen heart throb model boi Adrien Agreste and her very painful almost fan worship she has of him (which flip flops like a paper sandal in the rain) being portrayed as a cute school girl crush uwu, Chloe being the y7 Regina George, Alya being the token best friend of colour with her ‘sassy’ personality (i want y'all to imagine me eyerolling so hard i bust a vessel in my eye), Kagami being the very damaging Perfect Asian Child stereotype. And before y'all get on your dusty soap box and defend going on about “BUT IT'S FOR CHILDREN”,,,, know this.

i don’t give a solid fuck.

Not one.

Children arent stupid. Children are always going to remember the richy bitchy blonde who bullies the art kid, and the big kid, and the shy kid, and the non white kids, and was only nice to her equally rich white friend who she probably had a crush on or was only ever civil to her equally white lapdog. They're going to remember the half asian girl who was never allowed to actually be asian or the only black girl who existed solely as a soundboard for enabling bad habits or chastising the main character for the same habits she enables in the first place (boi aint THAT a topic for later). Like do i really need to explain that alya chastising marinette for taking max’s spot in gamer just to play with adrien rings absolutely hollow when she actively encourages her to sabotage the contest she’s in just so Kagami doesn't win?? Like I don't have to explain that right?? Again kids arent stupid and its quite something that Mari gets chastised for proving herself the best video game player regardless of her intentions just cuz it comes at the expense of max’s feelings/ego but is actively encouraged to sabotage not only kagami but herself by extension cuz kagami is ‘competition.’ Adrien is not a trophy to be won. And no I don't expect 14 yrs old to be perfect and to always make good decisions but these decisions are never addressed as being bad decisions. they get swept under the rug cuz those decisions were necessary for the ‘plot’ but astruc can barely keep characterization consistent and his characters suffer for it and it's the same children you preach are watching it that suffer as well. Cuz guess what? I KNOW 14 yr olds aren't like that cuz i've been there done that (this is the last time i'm saying that i promise) so I know astruc is just metaphorically throwing darts to figure out who says and does what without consideration for pre established personalities to drive the stalemate plot along. The same kids you say are watching this don't know that that's not how preteens work and will absorb and internalize those dynamics like baking soda and vinegar. Cata-fucking-strophically.

And I haven't even gotten to the boys yet. Which honestly doesn't require much explanation anyways cuz they suffer the same fate as the girls. Tired archetypes with nothing to give them life. Nino falls into Adrien’s person of colour token best friend who dates the female lead’s person of colour token best friend so they can have cute double dates uwu. Except the plot goes nowhere and we have no inclination of romantic development beyond moments that only act to actively convince me to anti ship the lovesquare (i don't want to do that so i self indulge in fanon that actually cares about the characters and plot. may i interest you in True Sight on AO3?). Max is the residential nerd but it doesn't matter (cuz he and everyone are dumbed down for the sake of ‘plot’), kim is the sports jock (which interestingly subverts the asian comedic relief stereotype but only barely) and luka is cute older guy ™ that wears black nail polish and is in a band. The point of all this is to say there is no depth in the characters. It's especially blatantly obvious with the characters astruc doesn't like (chloe). Again, it being a show for kids is not an excuse to be absolved of putting effort into the characters you make.

This is one of the biggest misses astruc has. I haven't even gone into all the nuances of this particular miss. And i havent gone into how that works against him in the plot either. Mostly because the plot itself hasn't gone anywhere and partially because I wanted to go into the plot (or lack thereof) separately as its own miss.

AND BOI is it a miss.

SO home boy astruc wanted to reap the benefits of a serial show with ‘engaging’ plot without putting in any of the work to make a linear storyline and relying on the episodic format for, again, marketability. You can't have the best of both worlds, you are not Avatar: The Last Airbender. Which btw has a lot less episodes and a desired end goal that didn't involve top dollar. Legend of Korra did but that's not the point and it had its failings with that too. I challenge you, tell me how many episodes actually contribute towards a plot point or introduce new thematic elements to the show? Can you name them? I can and I'm going to include the plot points that moved the story in some direction if only temporarily. Yes only temporarily for some of these and i will explain later. (if you're in the server you already saw this list *wink*)

25/26. Origins- self explanatory, the beginning of the story,

24. Volpina- introduction of the grimoire and Master Fu (kind of) and no, Lila is not a plot point,

28. The Collector- proper introduction of Master Fu,

37. Sapotis- introduction of Rena Rouge,

41. Syren- introduction of new aquatic power ups,

44. Anansi- introduction of Carapace,

47. Frozer- introduction of new ice power ups,

48/49. Style Queen- introduction of Queen Bee,

51/52. Heroes’ Day- introduction of Mayura and mass akumatization,

66. Startrain- introduction of Pegasus,

67. Kwami Buster- Marinette wears multiple miraculouses,

68. Feast- backstory as to how the miraculouses were lost,

69. Ikari Gozen- introduction of Ryuko,

70. Timetagger- introduction of Bunnyx,

71. Party Crasher- introduction of Roi Singe and Viperion,

73. Chat Blanc- alternate timeline that essentially means nothing but got a reaction out of fans anyways (myself included)

77/78. Love Eater/Battle of Miraculous- Marinette becomes guardian and other heroes lose their miraculous,

New York Special- other heroes exist and there is an American miraculous box,

That's 21 episodes. 21 out of a heaping 78 plus 2 specials. Everything else was just your typical akuma of the day episode and everything that happened outside that had no lasting consequences on the plot thanks to the miraculous status quo. Was it entertaining to watch Lila stir the plot of the class dynamic? Hell yeah. Too bad it meant nothing by the end of the episode cuz we were struck with miraculous status quo. She literally doesn't appear again until Heroes Day. that is from episodes 25 all the way to 51, she means nothing and yet she is treated with the severity of a b-villain/rival thing. She means nothing by the end of Volpina if I'm being honest. She is only relevant for 20 mins of episode time she’s in then it's back to magic status quo that undoes any shift in dynamics and relationships. It's like Spongebob who can't get his driver’s license. The worst part is I actually like Lila and I wish the story treated her with the seriousness we as an audience are expected to treat her with. Despite being painfully inconsequential by the end of each of the 3?? 4?? episodes she’s in, it's entertaining to watch a character create drama just because.

Too bad it means nothing.

Astruc is constantly building up suspense to something ‘important’ only for it to not deliver and fans are constantly having the rug pulled out from under us. Oblivio teased us with a reveal only that gets undone cuz memory akuma. Chat Blanc teased us with romantic development but that gets undone cuz time travel bullshit. Feast introduced more miraculous lore and the history of the guardians but that means nothing by the next episode or ever (i'm not including any reference to the season 4 trailer cuz i've been around the block a few times and im familiar with this lil dancy dance). Heroes Day teased us with a possible future team of heroes but that gets undone in Battle of Miraculous cuz ????? why?? (here's why; astruc was having a jolly ole time letting us know how irredeemable Chloe is at the expense of shooting his own stagnant plot in the foot. Again, discussion for later.)

Too bad anything that slightly swerves off course from the akuma of the day gets undone or ignored. Too bad nothing has any lasting consequence. I mean, if anything did, the episodes would have had a consistent order and release schedule so im not scrambling to watch the leaked ep in Portuguese or something while the french dub is two episodes behind while the english version hasnt even been dubbed. I really wonder how he plans to conclude the show when he’s so afraid to step out of the corner he painted himself in.

Again, not going into nuances. If you want you can ask for more specifics (i doubt anyone would) but this is really just a slightly detailed general overview of my opinions on astruc’s writing.

I was going to include another miss in his approach to this show but imma save that for another time.

How’s that for a ‘first’ post?

#mlb #opinions my guy opinions #i dont wanna tag this as salt #but mlb criticisms and analyses #IHTMO #the hashtag for this series #thomas astruc #miraculous fandom #miraculous ladybug #miraculous: tales of ladybug and cat noir #yes the government name again #come get yall juice #miraculous

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rpbetter · 3 years ago

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Users are dog piling on the COAR mod now because I guess they were lying? Best time for change when many speak up at once? What are the prospects?

I'm sorry, but since 90% of things happen only when I'm otherwise occupied, I have to ask...what the hell is going on now??

I don't follow COAR, I used to look at submissions and discussions every week or so, but I like I said in one of the other responses, that whole blog just disturbs me now lol so I haven't been really over there enough to keep up with whatever fresh hell. Frankly, I probably don't want to know at this point, I'm sure it's some kind of Statement that I'm either going to have to try so, so hard to be responsible and mature about refusing to poke fun at or I might actually manage to lose even more faith in people.

So...let me try to get this straight:

People are harassing the COAR mod? Okay, y'all...I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence or status as an adult by offering some kind of bizarre ass statement like, "I'd better not find out it was anyone from this blog." I mean? Other than blocking people I know to be engaging in bullying, the hell am I going to do to you? Bitch at you? While I am certain me well and truly going off is not a thing anyone wants, that's not a great deterrent until it happens lol So, I will just say that if it was anyone interacting with this blog...that is not something we do here, it is not supported or encouraged, it is not an appropriate way to express your feelings, and I will be really disappointed in anyone doing this kind of shit. Remember how this all started before doing anything like that, please.

Or was it that people were trying to address issues with the mod? Because, despite what the RPC thinks, there is a difference. If that's the case, I'd honestly advise you to just...not. That would not be my advice if it was your mutual or friend, or just someone that seemed inclined to hold a discussion. I do not feel that is the case here, and that any attempt to speak to the mod is only going to result in people who are already suspicious feeling everything they say is either further suspect or confirmation thereof. No one who does already feel like the mod is truthful is going to feel any differently, there's no point. This is not going to be a "win" for anyone.

They were lying, as in this was something confirmed by them, or? And if that is the case, about what? Those are all pretty important factors that I'm unaware of. If they did lie about something and have told the truth, they definitely shouldn't be piled on for that. We should encourage, not discourage, honesty. That's easy when people don't make mistakes, be those mistakes made in good or bad intentions, than it is when they try to address them. It takes a great deal of character to tell people, especially those who are maybe already angry with you, that you've lied. So, if this is what has happened? Advice is to appreciate that honesty was had. You do not have to like or agree with someone to appreciate that. But since I have fuck all of an idea what happened here...just running on possibilities.

Best time for change? In something like a blog that runs on non-RP style interaction, yeah, when many people tell you there is a problem, it's definitely time to accept that there is a problem. And I do not mean "tell you there is a problem" as in scores of anon hate, that just tells you that you exist as a personality on tumblr. Otherwise, if many people are concerned about the same issue or issues, those are valid concerns on a blog like COAR, not cause for another statement telling people to go create their own vent blog as has happened numerous times in the past. At some point, you either accept that the people you have made the blog for are telling you there is a problem you need to fix or you make it worse by staying the course with that problem.

Prospects? The problem with changes is this isn't a democracy. COAR, like this blog, is a dictatorship. No one is set up to allow their users to do something like vote on blog directions, and that isn't as unreasonable as it sounds when we factor in how even that could both done unfairly and that you would still have plenty of people upset about those choices. Point is, no matter how fairly someone runs a blog meant to interact in these ways with the RPC, it is ultimately their decision to do much of anything.

These decisions are based on those blog muns' viewpoints on whatever matter, and as all of us are just human here, those viewpoints are influenced by emotion, experiences, accrued biases. We can either act on them...or not, but they're going to exist as a part of the situation either way. And the only way that can, fallibly, be guessed at is by someone's established actions.

Given those, not great, in my opinion. I would expect COAR to issue a statement, probably one of those "from all the mods" style ones about bothering the one mod, some manner of clarification likelier than not to inflame the situation, tell everyone to unfollow or make their own vent blog, and return to ignoring that anyone has any concerns or objections until such point as everyone forgets about it all or COAR re-tanks.

Really think everyone's best prospect right now is to just stay away from there if they feel mistrust, anger, unsafe, whatever that isn't positive. I'm sure we can all live without that exact format of venting for a while to spare ourselves more of this. Look, I'm not even going to go look at what the shit is going on now unless I absolutely have to for someone, my RPC experience is considerably more peaceful for it...again.

#answered #anonymous #drama cw

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gavillain · 4 years ago

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This weirdness was born of my boredom and playing around with AI Dungeon to collaboratively write an “Overtakers play Family Feud” fanfic. This is what the AI and I came up with. I let the AI choose the roster and the questions, and it didn’t disappoint XD

To improve their public image, the Overtakers decide to go on an episode of Family Feud. The five Overtakers who go on the show are: Maleficent, the empress. She's already pretty well-known, but an appearance on Family Feud will really propel her into pop culture stardom. Hades, the king. He'll probably end up winning the grandfather of all Feuds, beating out Johnny Carson, Bob Barker, and William shockley. The Fates, the goddess of destiny. They'll probably end up writing their own TV show, with each of them playing a different character. Ursula, the siren. She's basically there as eye candy. Finally, there's Captain Hook. He's nervous; he doesn't want to be there, and he hates the spotlight. They're playing against the Xehanort family consisting of Xehanort (the leader), Vanitas (the edgy teenager), Xemnas (the long-winded one), Xigbar (the wily one), and Saix (the stoic one). The two teams line up against each other and the host, a middle-aged man in a red robe, reads the names off of a list. Steve Harvey walks out and welcomes the audience to Family Feud. "Welcome to Family Feud!" Steve Harvey says. "Today we've got two forces of ultimate evil. From Mount Olympus, we've got the Overtaker Family! And from the Keyblade Graveyard, we've got the Xehanort Family!" "We should've won," Vanitas says. "Yeah," Xehanort says. "Give me Xehanort! Give me Maleficent!" Steve Harvey requests. Maleficent and Xehanort approach the podium. Steve Harvey begins to read the question off his card: "We asked a hundred men, 'If you were stranded on a desert island, to keep the company but only have so many items to survive with, what would they be? Maleficent quickly buzzes in and answers, "Cursed spinning wheel!" "WHAT!" Steve Harvey exclaims. "I would also have the Dead Sea Scrolls," Maleficent says. "You've got the wheel, you don't need the scrolls," Harvey says. Spinning Wheels is inexplicably the top answer on the board. Steve Harvey is confused. Maleficent just looks smug as she says, "we shall play!" Steve Harvey begrudgingly walks over to the Overtaker side of the room. The Fates also approach the podium, alongside a nervous-looking Hades. "Alright, Hades, we asked a hundred men, 'If you were stranded on a desert island, but only has so many items to survive with, what would they be?" Hades scrunches his nose as he thinks about it, but he finally answers, "A can of deodorant, a light-up shirt, a lit cigarette, and a bottle of Jack Daniels." The Fates nod in approval as they write it down. "We gonna need you to just pick one of those," Steve Harvey says with a sigh. "Deodorant and a lit cigarette are the same thing," Hades says. "And I can't drink a whole bottle of alcohol on an island." "Fine, what do you have left?" Harvey asks. "Guess my answer is a light up shirt!" Hades says. Steve Harvey rolls his eyes and calls out, "Light up shirt!" The board will indicate if the answer is up there or not. Hades's answer is clearly not the one they wanted, so the Fates nod in approval and turn to the next question. "Are you three supposed to be one contestant?" Steve Harvey asks the Fates. "Correct," the Fates say in unison. "For the hundredth time, we are not one person!" the godly siblings argue. "Okay, we're gonna need just one of you to play the game," Steve Harvey says. "Who's it gonna be?" "I will," the Fates say smiling. "That's pretty much exactly what you said when we first met you," Harvey points out. Steve Harvey decides that it's not worth it to argue further. "Okay, whatever. We asked a hundred men, 'If you were stranded on a desert island, but only had so many items to survive with, what would they be?" The Fates whisper amongst themselves before answering, "We would need a god." "I would need a 100 men," Steve Harvey says. "I'm gonna need you three to play the game." "A god, Steve, that's our answer," Clotho says. "It's up there!" Atropos says. "We know it is!" Lachesis says. "We know EVERYTHING!" Clotho adds. "Alright, we're just gonna wing it then," Steve Harvey says. The Fates nod in approval. "Well, let's try it," Steve Harvey says. "A god!" God is inexplicably the second top-most answer on the board. Steve Harvey is very confused. "We know everything!" the Fates brag. "Well... we're pretty sure we know everything," Steve Harvey admits. "We know everything that really matters," Atropo says. "What is the name of the god of this world?" "I'm... I'm just gonna move on now," Steve Harvey says as he moves on to Ursula. "Hey handsome," Ursula says as she bats her eyelashes. Steve Harvey is very uncomfortable at her flirting. "How well do you know the Bible?" "I don't know any more about it than you do," Steve Harvey says. Ursula laughs. "That's not what they say in church." "Church... right," Steve Harvey says sarcastically. "We ALL know that ain't where y'all came from. Okay, Ursula, one strike, five answers left on the board. If you were stranded on a desert island, what's one item (just one now, don't be like Hades) you would want to have with you?" "A bottle of Jack Daniels," Ursula says without hesitation. "Just going off of Hades's answers now, huh," Steve Harvey says. "Bottle of Jack Daniels!" Ursula's answer is up there on the board. The Overtakers clap and congratulate Ursula. "You're really something special, aren't you," Steve Harvey says. "Next up is Hook." Hook nods nervously. "If you were stranded on a desert island, what's one item you would want to have with you?" Steve Harvey asks. Hook says, "I would want a Bible." "A Bible?" Steve Harvey asks. "Why?" "Because it's a book that has the directions to get off the island," Hook says. Steve Harvey says. "I'm pretty sure those directions only go one of two ways." "I wouldn't know, I'm not religious," Hook admits. "But I would think that a Bible would be useful in all sorts of ways." Steve Harvey thinks for a moment. "How so? "You could throw it at the monkey to keep them away from your campfire," Hook says. Steve Harvey is flabbergasted. "You throwin' a BIBLE to get rid of MONKEYS?" "Sure!" Hook says. "If you had a Bible, you could throw it at them and they'd run away! Don't you have any religious inclined people on your island? "Good answer! Good answer!" the Fates say. Steve Harvey begins to sweat nervously. "Uh... actually I was just going off of my last question. Next up is..." The Fates stand up and begin walking off. "What about our answer?" "Y'all already played. Get back to your spot," Steve Harvey says. "But..." "Back to your seat." The Fates leave, but you hear Steve Harvey muttering, "Nah... can't use 'em..." The Fates shrug and get back to their seat. Steve Harvey turns the answer over to the board. A big red X indicates that "bible" was an incorrect answer. Steve walks back over to Maleficent. "Two strikes, be careful, one more and the Xehanort Family can steal," Steve Harvey explains. "What do you have for me? "How about a virgin to sacrifice to the Great Old Ones so that they can transport you off the island?" Maleficent answers. Steve Harvey has no idea how to respond to that answer. He just keeps looking from the board to Maleficent and back. "Uh... I think we're good," Maleficent says. "Y'all ain't good... y'all ain't even CLOSE to good," Steve Harvey says. "You five are a one way ticket to Hell is what y'all are." "Thank you!" Maleficent says, taking that as a compliment. "Are we done yet?" Hook asks. "I got stuff to do." "Yeah, we're done," Steve says, rubbing his hands on the sides of his pants. Steve walks off the set in a daze just repeating the phrase "We're done." The Xehanort Family looks disappointed. "I wanted to play," Vanitas complains. "Yeah, I wanted to play too," Xigbar says, kicking the podium. "Is it over?" Xehanort says. "Is this our chance? "I think my team won," Maleficent says, looking at her teammates. "YES! WE RULE!" Hades declares. "Whatever," Maleficent says. "I'm going to stretch my tentacles," Ursula says, standing. "Keep me posted if you find me a new game to play." Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, Steve Harvey is still walking about in a daze saying "we're done." And so concludes the Overtakers' adventures in Family Feud.

#Overtakers #Family Feud #Maleficent #Disney Villains #ai dungeon

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petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

TW: ghosts. Bakusquad (Bakugou, Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, Hanta)

For @bnhamonsterball 2020 Tumblr/Twitter main event piece 2. Based on a true story that happened to me (I’m Mina’s character). Beta’d by Imitationicarus. 2k words

“Come on, losers!” Bakugou stands up from a couch in the dorm’s common area. “You heard the teach. If this campus is haunted, let’s go catch a ghost!”

“I don’t know…” Mina pulls her legs onto the couch and wraps her arms around her knees.

Ever since she was a little girl, she’d always been sensitive to spirits and knew tempting them was a bad idea. The land indeed had a history, but one she wasn’t keen on getting acquainted with any time soon.

Seeing her concerned expression, Kirishima takes a seat next to his girlfriend. “Yeah Bakuman, that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why, y'all too chicken shit?! It’s just bullshit they tell to keep us from wandering around campus at night. I’m gonna go whether you losers join me or not.”

The rest of the group looks around to each other in concern. Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina communicated without words. A nervous energy permeates their bubble because they know the blond is dead serious. Unfortunately, such concern took a heavier toll on Mina because she knew it would be a worse idea to let him go alone. She places her hand on her boyfriend’s knee, giving it a weak squeeze, eyes flitting to the front door.

He winces, groaning internally. “Alright.” With a sigh, the redhead looks at the piercing red gaze of their buddy. “Guess we’ll go with you.”

So, according to the folklore of their campus, the area was once inhabited by the Ainu people that were pushed out by new settlers. Some say burial grounds were even discovered and moved before the existing buildings were erected, and the spirits lingered, waiting to exact revenge.

Bakugou didn’t believe in any of the supernatural mumbo jumbo. If he couldn’t see it, it wasn’t real. End of story.

For the first hour, the group walks around the UA campus, encountering nothing more than shadowed silence. Amber emergency lighting made it possible to see along the walkways around buildings, most of which were locked due to the time of night. It was easy enough to hide from the occasional security guards roaming around as well.

“See,” Bakugou points out. “If it was as haunted as the teachers make it out to be, those wannabe cops wouldn’t stick around.”

Mina frowns at such a statement. She is certain those men have seen a few things and probably just learned to avoid certain areas. Up till now, she’s been able to steer them away as well, but they were running low on new places to explore, and Bakugou was too fired up to stop. ‘Why’d their teacher have to tell their class the stories anyway? If Mr. Aizawa hadn’t, Bakugou wouldn’t have thought up this idea in the first place! And of all the days to choose, he chose a waxing full moon.’

“If you think it’s a hoax then let just go back to the dorms,” Kaminari prompts the blond man. “We can just chill with a movie or something till lights out.”

“Fuck no, ain’t this fun?! And we haven’t checked the whole campus yet.” A collective groan ripples in the darkness. “Come on losers, time to hit the gym section. There’s gotta be something around, and I wanna find it.”

Kirishima looks down at his hand as it holds his girlfriend’s. She squeezes it tighter than usual. Her body has gone stiff, and the expression on her face is clearly worrisome.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“That’s not a good area,” she responds.

Mina holds out hope she was wrong and doesn’t want to panic anyone.

He raises her hand and kisses the back of it.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he teases, to which she returns a half-hearted smile.

They follow Bakugou a few paces behind, Sero and Kaminari, then Kirishima and Mina at the rear. Because of its size, the gym is toward the far edge and back of the campus, with an access road that goes around it to the parking lot in the rear. Along this road runs a small stream that, according to the stories, is part of an old irrigation system for the farms that were there at the turn of the century before the school was built. The only source of light along the road are dull lamp posts every ten feet.

Mina notices that Sero and Kaminari are uncomfortable, but they try to keep their cool through a quiet conversation. Every so often one or the other rubs their arms as if a non-existent chill crept over their frames.

She frowns at the sight, knowing the lurking spirits are watching them. Her own boyfriend exudes a calm-panicked energy as he strives to hold together his emotions for her sake. It is a disheartening feeling, and it was unnerving in the faux mellow evening.

Soft burbling of the water beside them mixing with crickets are the only real sounds aside from their footsteps against the asphalt. The closer they travel to the gym, the stronger her senses tingle. Mina’s fingers twitch, gripping to Kirishima’s hand as music wafts past her in spurts like a distant party beckoning one to join. Haunting drumbeats and soft woodwinds of ancient melodies eerily carry along the breeze and send chills all through Mina’s body. She shivers, knowing she is the only one hearing this melody.

Turn back, it warns. A full moon at peak energy allows the spirit world to shine with all its other worldly glory.

“Did you see that?” Mina whispers, tugging at her boyfriend’s arm.

Mina’s gaze tracks darting balls of light, to their left, the right, zipping overhead or off in the nearby tree line.

“Um— no, I don’t see anything,” he answers.

Of course, Kiri didn’t see anything, only she could. They looked like fireflies, except these don’t hover and don’t flash, always staying out of her direct sightline, curiously teasing the travelers.

Mina sighs and moves closer to the man. “Must’a been a bug.”

It was a lie, but again, better than making him worry.

But strangely enough, when they reach the back of the gym the music and lights disappear as if they too fear what is to come. It is dark, cold, and an odd pressure settles in her bones. Something even more sinister lurks ahead.

The road continues farther and away from the gym. To where, Mina isn’t sure. All she does know is something is screaming at her to turn back. The lamp posts also end in the parking lot, leaving the branch of roadway to fade into an inky blackness.

Bakugou stands at the head of the inclined roadway. “I heard there’s a maintenance shed up there. Let’s check it out.”

The others pause as a deeper fear creeps over each of them like waves of evil energy. Mina pulls back on Kirishima’s hand, shaking her head when he looks at her. She could only guess that they are as freaked out as she is. The pressure around them tightens its grip on her.

“Yeah, no way Bakubro,” Kirishima waves a hand adamantly.

“It’s too creepy,” Kaminari adds.

Sero nods with his buddies. “I got a bad feeling about it, man. Let’s just go back.”

“I’m taking Mina back to the dorms,” Kirishima speaks up, “so if you wanna check it out, you’re going by yourself.”

“Tch, losers,” Bakugou scoffs and walks up the inclined road. He isn’t afraid of the dark, and he certainly isn’t letting a ghost story stop him.

Kaminari yells at the man’s fleeting back. “Dude! Come on, this is ridiculous!”

But no matter how much they yell the man keeps walking until he disappears into the night. Mina hugs closer to Kirishima. This was bad... really, really bad. Her instincts are screaming, and every hair on her body tingles like right before a lightning storm is about to hit.

Something right at the point of light and dark moves from one side of the road to the other. No sound, not even the crunch of grass or shifting of stone. Just dead silence until the group watches with trepidation as a rock slowly rolls down the right side of the road’s incline.

Kirishima scoffs. “Not funny, Bakugou!”

Another rock, but this time on the opposite side of the road. Every tiny hair on the back of their neck stands at attention as the rippling chill grows stronger.

“What the fuck man! You trying to scare us?!” Kirishima finally snaps. Things have gone too far. He’s seen the petrified look on his girlfriend’s face. Bakugou is his best friend, but he has to protect his girl. “We’re going back to the dorms without you. Come on guys, let him be an idiot if he wants to be.”

They beeline it back to the dorms and hang out in the common area like they’d wanted to do all along. A few of their classmates were still awake, watching movies or chatting quietly, so they joined in.

“Better?” Kirishima checks on Mina.

“A little,” she responds and sidles closer to his side. “I’m just worried about him.”

“You know that stubborn ass as well as I do. None of us could have talked him out of it.”

“I know...”

Kirishima’s voice softens. “Hey, come on.” He wraps his arm tighter around her shoulder and kisses her temple. “Let’s focus on the movie.”

Mina sighs and gives in. He was right after all. There really is nothing they could have done, short of literally carrying him back with them. So, she does her best to push away the churning feelings brewing in her gut. What could the ghosts really do to him anyways? There was no history of anyone being physically harmed on campus, at least that she is aware of. And despite the power that area was giving off, she has hope all they would do is scare him away.

But those fears return, when thirty minutes later the front door opens, and Bakugou walks in. He doesn’t acknowledge them, doesn’t even look in their direction, just simply walks straight up the stairs to the second floor where the boys reside like a mindless zombie. All the creepy tingling sensations flood right back through Mina’s frame.

This was bad!

“Someone needs to check on him.” She looks frantically at her friends.

The three boys exchange worried looks and a silent hand battle, fighting to see who would make the ascent. There is no telling what they would find upstairs. He could be furious that he found nothing and take out his frustrations on the messenger.

“Ugh,” Kaminari groans. “Okay, I’ll go. Send a search party after ten minutes if I don’t return.”

The remaining trio gather at the foot of the staircase as their friend ascends it. Mina clings to Kirishima’s arm while they wait. She knows Bakugou is physically okay since he made it back. But her senses tell her he isn’t unscathed, and it is confirmed in less than five minutes.

Kaminari returns with a shocked look on his face, explaining the brief conversation he just had with Bakugou.

“Are you serious? He remembers nothing?” Questions Kirishima.

Kaminari shakes his head. “Nothing at all. He even snapped at me when I pushed.”

“Wow...” Sero cocks his head in confusion. “Baku really thinks he’s been studying all night?”

“Yup.”

Kirishima scoffs. “Maybe he’s lying, you know, too afraid to admit he got scared of something.”

“I think he’s telling the truth,” Mina responds quietly. “At least what he thinks is the truth.”

Kirishima narrows unbelieving eyes at his girlfriend. “What, like the ghosts wiped his memory?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I just feel that he’s telling his truth.”

“Whoa, that’s... that’s just crazy.” Kirishima shivers. “Damn, I’m so glad we didn’t follow him.”

“So, what do we do now?” Kaminari asks the group.

“Nothing,” Kirishima shrugs, “there’s nothing we can do right now. We’ll just wait till morning and see if his memory returns.”

But it never does.

#bnha monster ball #bnha #no trigger warnings #ghosts #bakusquad #Bakugou katsuki #mina ashido #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #hanta sero #Bnha fic #based on true story #halloween

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astraladvent · 5 years ago

Text

Prism: So far...

((A lengthly excerpt from the Prism Arc catch-up event!))

Berrod Armstrong looked around the room. "Ah, this is a good turnout. Thanks for comin'. There's -- a lot to go through, so I'll begin at the beginnin' and we'll work through it from there. Feel free to add any details you noticed or ask relevant questions as I go on. Won't spend too long answerin' questions before I'm done though."

Berrod Armstrong: "Some time ago, durin' a social gatherin' in Costa Del Sol, it so happened that we came into contact with a queer manner o'crystal. There was a fireworks show on, an' it seemed that the crystal fell outta the sky, skipped on the water an' hit a cliff wall near us. The spot on the cliff wall that it hit got streaked white an' chalky. The crystal itself was...strange. Colourful, bright an' packed with aether. Goin' near it or touchin' it was enough to wash a man in the stuff."

Berrod Armstrong: "Didn't take long for us to realise how much it enhanced not only our reserves of aether, but the things we could do with it. The white stuff on the cliff wall on the other hand, killed everything it touched. Stilled the aether in it until it ended up just as white an' dead as the rocks. Fortunately, it was contained to those streaks."

Louma'li Jinjahl looked sheepish. "Also brought out a few...undesirable qualities in a few."

Milo North: "Ick."

Berrod Armstrong eyed Lou for a moment and inclined his head slightly.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "You're really lucky ya didn't end up lickin' it."

Berrod Armstrong: "At -first-, we decided to let the La Noscean an' Lominsan authorities handle it. We arranged for the crystal -- the Prism, we called it, to be collected by the Yellowjackets an' taken back to the city proper for the Arcanist's guild to keep in their custody." He rubbed his face then, "Really wished it all stayed there, but the Gods had different plans it seemed. They cordoned off the streaked area, but a couple of our people got samples of the dead white rocks. They were harmless if you didn't let it touch flesh."

N'hara Tia: "Also got samples of some of the sea creatures it killed. Not the prettiest sight."

Orion Llewelyn stroked the lizard in his lap, attempting to lull the creature to sleep. It was having none of it with all the people around and hissed.

Soyer Perera entered and remained silent. No greeting and not motions beyond walking and picking a spot.

Berrod Armstrong made a face at the mention of the dead sea creatures, but nodded to acknowledge it. "Least chalky fish don't stink..."

Berrod Armstrong: "Anyroad, a couple weeks later the Arcanist's guild called us up for our help with a matter involvin' the crystal. Apparently since we were the once who had 'experience'--" He made quotation marks with his fingers then, "--with it, we were the ones they wanted. Turned out they tried to cast some standard protective stuff around it for safe keepin', but the crystals amplified the magic to the point that it got a bit -too- well shielded. We were hired to work with a fella named Hartsald to break that shield. From the reports it seemed like one hell of a job, but nothin' catastrophic, an' nothin' the team that went couldn't handle."

Berrod Armstrong turned to offer a tip of his chin to Soyer by way of greeting.

Soyer Perera nodded but made no sound.

Berrod Armstrong: "We used the success of that job to curry some favour with the Arcanist's guild, to the point where we managed to get a sample of the crystal for the company for our own to study. Unfortunately, a couple weeks after -that-, we got another missive from the guild. Hartsald had gone missin', an' from the investigation we launched into it, he'd gone barkin' mad before he vanished. He'd been drawin' nonsense on maps, rippin' up books, writin' over an' over again about somethin' called -blàths bloigh-. No language I'd ever heard of. With the help of those of us gifted in understandin' such things, we learned that it means 'blooming essence'. An' so the hunt for Hartsald began."

Natja Bafsk breezes on in like she was here all along, peering around and filing her nails into even pointier points.

N'hara Tia brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. Not a fun assignment…

Milo North: "Baths Bentlow, yeah."

Milo North: "... Blowfly."

Milo North: "... Blarfs."

Orion Llewelyn: "Spoilers: He was found."

Natja Bafsk nods her head agreeably at Milo's valiant effort, knowing damn well she can't do anything better.

Berrod Armstrong: "The hunt led us to the Blac--" He quickly and apologetically eyed Jancis in the distance, "Uh, the Twelveswood, where the search team encountered all sorts of mischievous magics. Weird plants, floaty-stuff. The reports were...wild. Even though that was dealt with, apparently the team came into contact with an anomaly that caused the same whitenin' effect from the cliffs in Costa. I still...don't really understand what I read about what the team there saw, but everyone came outta it okay."

Berrod Armstrong: "Mostly, anyroad."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "And one overly animated annoyin' blue...person."

Berrod Armstrong: "Ah, aye. Jock whatsisballs."

Louma'li Jinjahl couldn't remmeber how many Jock-Jocks it was.

Zachary Evans mouthed the phrase 'blue person' in absolute confusion.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "Jock-Jock somethin' Jock, covered in woad an' crazy, aye."

Milo North: "Somethin' made outta Light."

Bayan Dataq cracked a small smile. This was getting good. Now there were blue people. He wondered what strange Eorzean people that was.

Milo North shivers at the memory.

Berrod Armstrong: "He'd been hired to find Hartsald too -- an' now we know by who. But I'll get to that in time."

Louma'li Jinjahl had a sneaking suspicion of the 'who' but he'd be happy if fate decided to surprise him. Lou just nodded along with Berrod's assertion that they'd get to it, in time.

Berrod Armstrong: "Arcanist's guild hadn't made any headway either, an' so as more time went on, the more everyone feared Hartsald was dead. You know how it goes with missin' persons. Anyroad, -another- issue popped up in Mor Dhona that we went to investigate. After what happened in the Shr...er -- -Twelveswood-, we were expectin' to find Hartsald. Instead, we found a Hyuran fella with an axe an' way, -way- too much power. The team went in, accompanied by one Grave Shadow as an observer, the reports said. The Hyur -- Breaker, or Baby or whatever -- was subdued an' separated from a prismatic crystal that he'd been given with the promise of power. It was there that the monk twin ladies some of y'all came to know were sighted for the first time."

Orion Llewelyn leaned over to Bayan with a hushed voice, "That's where I came in." A thumb was jerked in Berrod's general direction.

Bayan Dataq nodded. The cast of characters was getting a bit much for him to keep track of, but he was doing his best.

Jancis Milburga looks thoughtful, "And that odd sludge that came off of him."

Soyer Perera || It occured to Soyer that it was around this time he had joined the Company too...He had a faint smile at the thought.

Berrod Armstrong: "Breaker was pretty badly affected by what had happened to him. He wasn't an enemy, not really. Just someone who'd gotten a raw deal. We took care of his recovery an' such,an' in doing so, found out he had a connection to those twins...like -- a thread. Oh--" He consulted his book then, "I shouldn't forget the group out in the ruins of Nym either. After the Hartsald incident, we went to investigate some aetherial spikes there an' did battle with an entire group enhanced with shards of prismatic crystal. It wasn't enough to make 'em -crazy- powerful, so they got taken down smoothly enough. One of 'em was above the rest though...Astrologian gal with a -weapon- made with one of the crystals in it. Our first encounter with a prismatic weapon."

Milo North: "Someone had fun lickin' crystals."

Zachary Evans shifted from foot to foot before finally deciding on doing squats. The whole chain of events had given the young man a surge of nervous energy.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "An' she up an' ran before we could finish kickin' her arse. Seems Shadow got to her though an' finished things."

Natja Bafsk 's expression slowly takes a turn for the morose, more and more.

Bayan Dataq 's face gave away he didn't really approve of leaving a mark alive in a hunt, but didn't say anything.

Zachary Evans: "I'm not exactly sure of -how- comfortable I am working with Shadow again...wherever the Shadows are, things go from worse to catastrophic."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "Alright, focus folks."

Zachary Evans: "Sorry, chief."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "And listen tah what Berrod has tah say, ya can ask shite after."

Natja Bafsk nods to Sarij Rahzersyn.

Berrod Armstrong: "It turns out that the Astrologian gal didn't quite get away -- so proven by a box sent to us by a -mysterious benefactor- at the time. It contained the prismatic weapon...broken, though that didn't make the crystal itself any less potent. The box itself was made with...arcane stuff written on it that turned it into a kind of compass that pointed us north, to Coerthas. Again, we decided to investigate, an' the team sent met -- another arcanist? Nah -- a uh, a--" He checked his notes, "Nymian-styled Scholar. He didn't quite have a prismatic weapon, but his -faerie- was made of the stuff. From what I read, his spellwork was...damn powerful."

Tiergan Vashir blinked at that. "His /faerie/ was made of /crystal/?"

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye. Bright an' colourful an' glitterin'...an' -potent-."

Autgar Bloode: "Yes, his fairy was a crystal. He was very strong."

Orion Llewelyn looked away to take a swig of his drink.

Tiergan Vashir frowns deeply, brow furrowing.

Berrod Armstrong: "Was around that time that our study into the crystal itself showed us some of what it was capable of. Like allowin' me to conjure as if it was nothin', for example. Healed a gash on my own arm with a twig an' it didn't even leave a scar." He offered his arm as proof.

Berrod Armstrong: "I should note that the crystal samples in our possession went up to two. The weapon, an' the sample we got from the Arcanist's guild."

Jancis Milburga furrows her brow at Berrod's arm.

Tiergan Vashir: "Did.... you have much conjurying ability before or did you go from none to suddenly proficient?"

Berrod Armstrong: "I tried to learn once. They were nice about tellin' me I would never be able to do it."

Aulen Mistbreaker was totally not taking a nap or anything as he showed up late.

Berrod Armstrong: "I don't have a lick of castin' talent, sad to say."

Orion Llewelyn: "Shame, that."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "Ya punch things better anyways."

Zachary Evans: "That's...disturbing. Granting that much power out of the blue is dangerous."

Autgar Bloode: "You've got plenty of other talents chief."

Tiergan Vashir: "So these crystals can turn anyone into a skilled mage."

Berrod Armstrong: "Nnnh -- well, I knew the -motions-, I just never made anythin' happen, you know? But that crystal changed that."

Milo North: "Or jus' let you throw enough power at a spell."

Orion Llewelyn: "An' those of us already skilled t'start with, well..." Orion leaned back.

Milo North: "That it makes it look like you can do it."

Soyer Perera frowned at that--he hadn't been told they could do that too.

Berrod Armstrong: "Go on," He urged Orion.

Milo North: "Scarier thought is what happens when someone like fuckin' black mage casts one of their clever lil' spells with the power of one of these."

Natja Bafsk nods to Milo North.

Orion Llewelyn: "Huh?" He sputtered. "Oh I've got nothin'. Just sayin' I can imagine how it'd be like for those of us with a lick o' talent an' skill."

Milo North: "Power and the nuance to properly use it."

Berrod Armstrong nodded, "Aye."

Tiergan Vashir: "Is that why Mountain's Shadow has an interest then?"

Martin Adler: "Probably." Martin grunts.

Autgar Bloode: "Save the questions folks."

Aulen Mistbreaker spoke up. "Well... back on the beach. A simple spell I used turned a small flame into a massive pyre by just being near the damn thing."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye..."

Berrod Armstrong: "Alright -- back to Breaker an' his ability to trace the twins...much like the box had become a compass that led us north, he led a team of us south into the Sagolii to follow the twins' trail. From what I read, the trip was an interestin' one. They utilised their crystals to their full potential and put up a hell of a fight. It was hard, but our team won out with Breaker's help. Poor bastard ended up abed again, an' we took the twins into our custody. Treated them well, mind you."

Natja Bafsk smiles, but with a notable twinge of sadness.

Jancis Milburga: "Had to, those crystals were embedded."

Berrod Armstrong: "That fight was an' educational one, 'cause we learned about the flawed crystals. Turns out that they were not only different to the samples we had, but they had awful effects on the user. Uh --" He consulted his book again, and began to read directly off of it.

Orion Llewelyn: "They amplified the user's flaws."

Milo North: "They got real ugly?"

Berrod Armstrong: "Our samples achieved perfect resonance with the user's aether. Perfect prisms. The flawed crystals however, sought to compensate for their imperfection by resonating oppressively and affecting the user's aether in a detrimental manner -- usually to the tune of illness or behavioural changes."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye, what Orion said."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "Not ugly enough to not fluster Autgar."

Autgar Bloode would remember that.

Orion Llewelyn snorted, "Not that kinda flaw. Made angry people angrier an' that kinda thing."

Bayan Dataq: "Weaknesses?" he asked softly.

Berrod Armstrong: "After some questionin' -- gentle, mind you, we never treated 'em badly," We learned that -Hartsald- was apparently creating the flawed crystals and temptin' people to power with 'em. First the twins, then he tried to get 'em to bring Breaker on board. S'what was happenin' when we met the lot of 'em in Mor Dhona. What was most interestin' is that they said that we couldn't just go -find- Hartsald. He had to be -summoned-. The ritual to do it was queer as all hells."

Tiergan Vashir: "Summon. Like some sort of voidsent?" There was audible distaste in his tone.

Milo North: "You can summon other stuff, too. Kinda."

Berrod Armstrong: "I would think that if the ritual wasn't...downright stupid."

Orion Llewelyn wavered a hand before Bayan at his question. "Sorta like that."

Berrod Armstrong: "Once again a team went out -- to the Cloud Sea up above the Spine. Aether's rich there an' it was far away from people just in case things got hairy...which they did. Still don't really understand what happened, but they called him. He was strange, with bright blue eyes with rings in 'em," He gestured at his own eyes, ever one to talk with his hands, "Talkin' funny too, not nearly the same as he was before. Borin' an' kinda stodgy."

Bayan Dataq perked up a bit. Sounded like the red haired hyur was describing him. Badly, but still.

Berrod Armstrong: "Seems like he tried somethin', but the team figured it out and put a stop to it before he finished. Unfortunately, one of the twins got turned into a plant -- or was it eaten by a plant...?" He checked his notes again, "Ah, she got turned into a bush. When they finally managed to put Hartsald down, a big ol' pair of flowers grew. One spat out the twin, the other...Hartsald's body. The -real- Hartsald. Poor bastard had been dead all along, an' somethin' was wearin' his face. Accordin' to what I read, he'd been killed long before, even though he wasn't rottin'."

Milo North: "So.... Voidsent."

Soyer Perera frowned a bit deeper. If he were the type to be ungrammatical, he'd say this entire thing was getting curiouser and curiouser.

Jancis Milburga swears to Nald'thal quietly.

Soyer Perera: "That doesn't sound like a voidsent."

Berrod Armstrong shook his head. "Would be simple if it was. Read more like a ghost to me."

Orion Llewelyn: "Aye, I'm inclined to agree with Berrod."

Bayan Dataq shook his horned head. This is why he preferred sheep and horses. Less magic and spirits. More things that were simple to skewer with his lance.

N'hara Tia: "This whole fiasco gets worse and worse when you really stop and think about it..."

Orion Llewelyn: "Like....another soul." He offered up.

Tiergan Vashir: "A ghost that turns people into plants and grows flowers that hold bodies?"

Milo North: "A ghost who makes people inta plants? Ashkin ain't that powerful. Or smart."

Milo North: "Mosta the time they jus' moan about how much it hurts or whatever."

Berrod Armstrong: "Team came back, though the affected twin hadn't regained consciousness. Reks examined her, an' it turned out there -- wasn't a soul in her body. I dunno how that was possible, or how it worked, but that's what happened. We decided to keep her safe, an' her sister didn't leave her side. Breaker was fully recovered an' decided to go out there an' try to make some headway."

Berrod Armstrong: "Took a couple weeks, but he came back...different. He'd acquired a bit of prismatic crystal, which somehow -fused- with him while he slept. It...made him strong. Real strong. I dunno if he's immortal now, but I know it's real hard to hurt him. Or was. We had to press him for answers, but even when he finally caved an' tried to give 'em to us, he couldn't speak of it, or even write of it. He'd been hexed, and pretty badly."

Berrod Armstrong: "The same night he came back to us, somethin' happened to the unconscious twin. Long story short, whatever had been masqueradin' around as Hartsald jumped into her, pulled a switch on us, an' ran off into the night. Was a damn mess, I'm told. Her sister an' Breaker went off to try an' find her."

Natja Bafsk stares down at her lap, ears drooping backward.

Berrod Armstrong: "'nother couple weeks went by. Breaker an' Rookmin -- ah aye, that was her name -- kept in contact, wrote to us an' stuff...an' then the contact stopped. Stopped for a worryin' while, with the last place they mentioned bein' Tailfeather up in the Dravanian lands. Of course, we sent a team up to find 'em..." He rubbed the back of his head then, "An' what a time that was."

Berrod Armstrong: "There were so many things -- a cave full o'gold dust. Talkin' to dragons...followin' the trail on a whole. The trail led to a white, magical coffin' with the words 'Let sleeping beasts lie' on it. Anybody who tried to tamper with the coffin got...frozen? Stilled -- though it came at a cost to the coffin's aether. With enough people triggerin' it, it eventually ran out, an' broke open."

Milo North: "W..."

Orion Llewelyn: "Nothin' like brute forcin' some magic."

Milo North places his face into his hands, "You opened the magic box sayin' please dun open."

Jancis Milburga: "And good we did." Her tone is sadder after the mention of gold dust.

Tiergan Vashir visibly tenses up at this portion of the tale, shoulders locking. He glances back towards Jancis once before his jaw sets and he looks to Berrod again.

Louma'li Jinjahl: "To be fair, at least we did it an' didn't die. Can't say if someone else woulda lived if they did the same."

Berrod Armstrong rubbed at his face with one hand. "I'm glad I can just give the facts here now, because at the time it was confusin' as all hells. Breaker, as it turned out, had been jumped into by the Hartsald-wearer. It was a bad combination, because Breaker himself was fused with a prismatic crystal an' powerful as all hells. Not only that, but in tryin' to resist the thing tryin' to ride him, he unleashed -- well, a beast, is the best way to put it. Y'all would be interested to know that one Mountain Shadow showed up, yellin' at the team for openin' the coffin. He looked pretty chewed up. Even lost consciousness, I think."

Cerina Borlaaq gave a very audible grunt of pure /disgust/ at the mention of Mountain, however, she didn't say anything about it.

Orion Llewelyn finished off what remained of his drink.

Berrod Armstrong: "We know now that Rookmin and Breaker had found the other twin -- Sumintra, which is when the...thing...jumped from her to him. Apparently Mountain was on their trail an' used that coffin thing to subdue the thing -- which we opened. Ah well. Anyroad...there was a fight. Details...don't matter. There was a fight that we won. Autgar managed to kill the thing...for good. Breaker was safe, though the twins were missin' still. Both of 'em this time."

Jancis Milburga glances back at Martin briefly before gazing at Tiergan for awhile, silently echoing Berrod's words.

Milo North: "Course he put a cryptic phrase on the fuckin box instead of, I dunno, -something explainin' exactly what was inside-."

Berrod Armstrong: "Mountain got extracted from the area an' we dealt with the fallout as we always do. Got some blessed quiet for a while after that. We needed it."

Louma'li Jinjahl: "An' he wrote it in ways that only people versed in an arcane science could understand. Coulda gotten better results with a slab o' wood an' some paint."

Orion Llewelyn: "That's got me wonderin' though. It /was/ quiet for a good bit. Us meetin' here though..."

Orion Llewelyn: "does that mean somethin's happened?"

Berrod Armstrong: "Quiet couldn't last, I suppose, 'cause who else came marchin' up to our gates a few weeks later but Mountain himself, with the balls to ask us to -leave it all to him-. Didn't need to consult leadership to outright refuse that, no matter how much I'd like to wash my hands o'this stuff." He smiled at Orion then, "I'll get to that in a lil bit."

Milo North: "Really. Is "There is an awful monster in here, this box is keeping it from killing you. No touch.' So hard? Fuckin' Mountain."

Orion Llewelyn: "Wait, he came /here?/ What'd he want?"

Orion Llewelyn: "Oh well, I guess you just said that." he leaned back again, slightly less agitated.

Sarij Rahzersyn: "To be fair... even if he wrote that people would have opened it."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye. We said no an'...he was uh, awfully gracious an' decided that in the event of our refusal, -he- would leave it entirely to -us- instead. Apparently it'd be one or the other, so long as it meant we no longer clashed. So he officially withdrew from the matter, an' shared with us some information, includin' the whereabouts of some missin' people. The scholar, the twins, an' the Astrologian."

Mholi'to Valrei offered the room a brief wave as he walked over to an open spot to stand. He was quiet for now as to catch up on the current conversation.

Berrod Armstrong: "Apparently he'd convinced them all to withdraw from the whole ordeal, an' has managed to keep 'em safe in his own way." There was an unconvinced shrug from him, but he went on, "He also handed over his prismatic crystal -- the Scholar's faerie. We have three samples now."

Cerina Borlaaq: "So it is only a matter of time before he tries to swoop in again." She huffed. "We should have just cut him down when he showed up at our doorstep."

Orion Llewelyn: "He gave ya his faerie...?" Orion bunched up his brow.

Berrod Armstrong: "Hmn. Oh -- aye, though it turned back into a chunk o'pretty crystal when it left his side."

Orion Llewelyn ran a hand along his jaw, pensively, saying nothing further.

Sarij Rahzersyn: "Kindly keep murder plans to yerself. Mountain is a company owner of a known company and on the level in the terms of the governing bodies."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "I don't feel like going infront of a judge again."

Milo North: "I ain't sayin' anything about killin'. I'm thinkin' it real loudly though."

Cerina Borlaaq: "I did not ask for your assistance, Sarij. But do not make this company bend to him again."

Berrod Armstrong: "Speakin' of which, couple folks from here parleyed with 'im an' made some requests, one o'which he granted." Very carefully did he pull an envelope from between the pages of the book he'd been reading his notes from. The envelope was handed across to Autgar, though in stretching to do so, Berrod held it dangerously close to the candle's flame. "Ah -- shite, whoops. There y'go."

Bayan Dataq was starting to wonder why everyone was talking about some mountain. And why everyone hated a geographical feature.

Natja Bafsk peers over at the envelope questioningly.

Autgar Bloode plucked up the letter and held it infront of him on the table without a word.

Dylan Skye: "...What is that, Autgar?"

Orion Llewelyn leaned back forward, eyes shifting toward the envelope as well and then to Autgar.

Orion Llewelyn: "Aye, what he said."

Mholi'to Valrei took a few steps closer to Autgar to peek over the man's large shoulders out of curiosity.

Sarij Rahzersyn: "I am saying.... stay the hells away from 'em and not deal wtih em, so if as ya think he tries tah get his fingers involved wit us... we got solid feet undah us rather than having the Immortal Flames kicking in the door again to arrest folks."

Autgar Bloode elbowed Oli. "We can talk about it when were all caught up."

Bayan Dataq 's eyes shot open, and then he looked to Orion for clarification. “What kind of company was this anyroad?"

Mholi'to Valrei frowned as he was lightly jabbed. "Fine, fine," he grumbled. His curiosity still burned bright, but his eyes were forced back towards Sarij. "Honestly, the best thing to do in my opinion would be whatever the hells we intended to do before he showed up. Regardless of what he's offerin'. He smells like trouble."

Louma'li Jinjahl looked on skeptically as this was unfolding. He didn't have history with Shadow, but at this rate, he was hating him just out of spite.

Cerina Borlaaq: "That has certainly worked for us in the past when it comes to dealing with him, yes? Because he has not managed to weasel himself into the company, and out of what ever--" she waved her hand in front of her in frustration, "solid ground you are talking about. Figured you would know that better than anyone else."

Sarij Rahzersyn: "This company is not a wetworks." Sarij replied simply. "Berrod feel free tah continue."

Cerina Borlaaq scoffed loudly, but decided not to press on.

Autgar Bloode was scanning over the letter before he returned it to the envelope and rested it on the table infront of him.

Berrod Armstrong nodded at Autgar, then at Sarij. "I agree that we have to be careful. He's got a legitimate thing going an' -if- he means us ill, which I'll never rule out, he's gonna get us tangled up in a lotta legal shite before the final blow. Either way -- if he says he's out, I agree with Oli there...we press on like he's not around. Granted...it might mean followin' some of his...advice."

Soyer Perera: "And what's wrong with that?"

Jancis Milburga nods in agreement. "Coincidence."

Berrod Armstrong: "Or rather, followin' his methods. He said that he wanted to dissipate the crystals by givin' their aether to the land -- it's why Breaker was put in that coffin, to drain him of the prismatic aether he'd been fused with -- and contain that thing inside him too."

Soyer Perera: "Provided it doesn't harm anyone or the land itself--we have enough mages here to confirm if the method would actually put it back into the land, right?"

Mholi'to Valrei: "Then make sure that information is verified independently somewhere else. Facts are facts, regardless of who's sayin' it. Are you sure that it's the best method, all things considered?"

Berrod Armstrong: "So we have three samples. I want us to begin lookin' into ways to gettin' these crystals smelted down into the land, for lack of a better term. Once we find a way to do it safely, that's how we'll handle any o' the prisms we come into contact with goin' forward."

Berrod Armstrong: "Aye, those things are a menace in man's hands."

Mholi'to Valrei nodded back. "A broken clock's right twice a day."

#FFXIV #Crystal #Balmung #Astral Advent #Astral Agent #Prism #Story Arc #RP Event #Catch up Post

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verdigrisprowl · 6 years ago

Text

April 29 Dancitron Movie Night - Stranger Than Fiction

Watching a character with a voice in his head dictating what he was going to do was very uncomfortable. But Prowl endured.

And got more cuddly than normal with temporarily-xenomorphed Soundwave.

Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 7:47 PM Don't mind the thing that looks like a mechanical xenomorph sitting curled up on the couch. It's supposed to be there. Mainly because it's Soundwave. So, you know. No need to worry about getting plastered to a wall, or dragged underground, or killed, or anything like that.

...Actually, he might plaster troublemakers to the wall. You probably shouldn't test that. Just get drinks and snacks and get comfortable. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:01 PM Prowl is absolutely going to get comfortable, right next to the mechanical xenomorph. Would said xenomorph like to relocate his curl to Prowl's lap? Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:04 PM Oh, yes. Yes, he would. He is absolutely going to move to get his entire front half settled on Prowl's thighs and lean up against his stomach in exactly the way he would never, ever get away with doing were he in his normal frame.

Ahhhhh. So that's what this is like. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:05 PM ... Prowl wonders if he can pet Soundwave. Hmm. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:07 PM Soundwave wonders if Prowl thinks the answer to that would be a no even in his regular frame. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:08 PM In his regular form, he kind of assumes it's a no. In THIS form, he's trying it out to see what happens. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:12 PM Well, it might be a no if Prowl hits the wrong spot on his regular frame, but honestly? Repetitive motion is soothing. He'd probably relax so deeply he fell asleep if Prowl sat next to him and idly stroked one of those ironing board shoulders with a thumb long enough.

Anyway, the point is, he just vents once in obvious contentment and waits for others to show up. He's sure this will stop as soon as one of them does. ((i'm gonna start in three minutes, still finishing my rice--get what y'all need)) Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:13 PM It was only a matter of time. The supervision couldn't last forever. Swoop, despite being far scrawnier than the others, was still a Dinobot and Dinobots are endurance fighters. In comes Swoop, chaperone free, with his ankle bells jingling but no one to hold onto the leash Grimlock had thoroughly fastened to him. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:14 PM ...Oh dear. SpecsToday at 8:16 PM The dragon enters next, with all the usual snacks. "Hello, Sound-." Um. Hm. That's new. "-wave." Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:17 PM "....Bird?" he chirps. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:17 PM Lazy tail flick serving as a greeting in the dragon's direction. He's not moving these hands. These hands are right where they should be. As are Prowl's, if you ask him.

[[Greetings. And Laserbeak will be down in a moment.]] Still trying to convince her that she won't die if she watches him be curled up like this. Stubborn thing. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:18 PM Swoop cocks his head at the not-Soundwave Soundwave. Carefully (for a Dinobot) he slinks over to investigate. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:19 PM The petting stops when he sees an unleashed Dinobot come in. Oh boy. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:19 PM ((MOVIE'S STARTING i hope y'all got what you needed. warnings are in the rabbit-side chat since i figured they wouldn't get lost there)) SpecsToday at 8:19 PM She's not going to expect Soundwave to do anything tonight. Except be patted by Prowl, apparently. She'll handle putting the snacks where they belong herself. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:20 PM Damn it. He knew that was going to happen.

[[No touching, Swoop. He means it.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:21 PM He quietly drapes a hand around Soundwave. Prowl doesn't quite trust Soundwave to not murder Swoop if Swoop starts acting up, in Soundwave's current state of mind. Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 8:21 PM Don't mind Blaster coming to a halt once he enters the room. Well, this was new... Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:21 PM [[...He would offer to have Laserbeak help you, but he thinks most of your snacks would not make it to the counter.]]

Oh, that's good too. He'll get proper comfortable. Stretch out across the couch, some. Primus, but it's good to have an excuse. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:22 PM Ooh, a man of numbers and calculations. And look at his HUD! Counting everything! Prowl likes this character. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:22 PM Speak of the devil. Here comes the bluebird of hell herself. {{Hello~}} Pointedly said to everyone in turn except Prowl and the Boss. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:22 PM Swoop crouches down in a manner not unlike how Soundwave's currently moving about. His neck is outstretched and his optics are bright and alert. He's not reaching to touch, but is very interested. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:23 PM [[...Can he help you.]] Tiny lip curl. Prowl's probably right to keep an arm on him. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:23 PM So regimented! So scheduled! So precise! Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:25 PM Swoop shook his head no but remained focused. ((The Stanley Parable got a movie? :open_mouth: )) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:26 PM [[Are--]] He tapped a finger. What is an Earth word. Get the alien language packs, look for some human versions. [[Toothbrushes, common targets for spy devices?]] ((idk what the stanley parable is?)) SpecsToday at 8:26 PM Perhaps it's rude to have a small laugh at someone else's expense, but the dragon chuffs anyways. "Don't worry, I can handle it." It's not like Soundwave is wrong. Of course, snacks are meant to be eaten... Just perhaps by more than one person. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:27 PM Depending on the point of view of the person in question, at least. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:27 PM ((Ahh you'd like it. It's a game where the narrator sasses you, Stanley, as you walk through your office, either obeying the narrator or going rogue.)) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:27 PM ((also i'm sorry for the mild audio glitching, it seemed ok when i tested it earlier)) [[As long as you are all right, then, dragon. Thank you for your diligent supplying.]] Glance up to Prowl. [[Do others ask you to do that?]] SpecsToday at 8:28 PM Compliments about her cooking are this dragon's entire motivation. "You're always welcome!" Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:28 PM Wow, this is a real horror movie. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:29 PM Swoop finally noticed Laserbeak and perked up, armor flaring a touch with excitement as a smile spread across his face, before a thought occurred to him. He leaned back a touch, armor laying flat as he blinked up at her. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:29 PM ...All right, now he's getting a little nervous of the intense foc--oh, good. A distraction.

{{What you blink for?}} [[He likes her.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:32 PM "Her protest is ineffective and nonsensical." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:32 PM [[Rather. But amusing, and meaning well.]] Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:33 PM Swoop shrugged, then gave a full body squirm that ended in a laugh. "Me Swoop, um, Us.. kehhe. Us not hang out, you know. Since." He nodded at Soundwave. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:34 PM "If twenty-two percent of your taxes go toward things you don't like, and you don't pay them, it doesn't work out that 100% of what you paid goes to the causes you like and 0% goes to what you don't." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:34 PM {{Oh. Us hang out now, then!}} And she plops herself right onto his crest for sits. Soundwave briefly looks toward the dragon. ... Pat edge of tail blade against the couch. Would she like to sit up there? There's plenty of room, despite his sprawl. And as long as she doesn't get too close to Prowl, she probably won't trigger any protection instinct.

[[Even if she sent them a letter? Telling them where to put the percent.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:35 PM "Practically speaking, it's merely 22% less all around, including to the causes she DOES like." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:36 PM {{Puh. It not at peace. It just not emotion.}} Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:37 PM "Money compiled into a mass treasury fund isn't going to come with notes stuffed in with the shanix." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:38 PM Soundwave looks up at him. That's... a good point. They really ought to keep files to accompany the treasury for just such an occasion. But that doesn't seem like a thing any government he's ever seen would do.

He nods. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:38 PM Swoop chirps happily, sliding down to sit on his butt to see if this movie was any fun. "Um. Keheh. UM! Him Soundwave. What. Me Swoop have to do what Bird says now?" He will regardless. He's just unclear how this works now. Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 8:38 PM Just gonna...sit somewhere now. He'd zoned out for a bit there. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:39 PM {{Who said you Swoop do that? Bird not said.}} [[Ugh.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:42 PM "... That unfortunate man." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:42 PM [[Unenviable position.]] Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:42 PM "No one say... But. Him Soundwave beat up. And Swoop supposed to listen. And, um, Me Swoop dunno how-- what that do... for Bird." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:43 PM {{Bird beat up Swoop?}} SpecsToday at 8:43 PM The dragon would indeed like to sit up there! She trusts Soundwave, and she's not inclined to interfere with the cuddling. She'll stay right on the arm of the couch and loaf. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:43 PM "Noo! Kehehehh! No no. You Bird do stuff, stick with Soundwave." ((edna??)) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:44 PM {{If Bird not beat, Swoop do what Swoop want.}} Pause. {{...But Bird LIKE when Swoop do what Bird said. Neheh.}} ((lol)) Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 8:44 PM ((pfff))\ Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:45 PM "Kay," he said with a little head bobble. "Kehee. Me Swoop want You Bird to happy. Me love you!" Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:45 PM [[He wonders what a narration of his life would be.]] A glance up to Prowl. [[Or your life. He does not know what stories they tell about]] DON'T SAY IT [[enforcers.]] She pats Swoop with a feeler. {{Yes, yes. Shhh.}} Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:47 PM ((this movie wins points for being the only one in history to slap the "schizophrenia??" label on a set of self-reported symptoms that ACTUALLY line up with schizophrenia.)) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:47 PM ((honestly)) He rests his head on his hands and contemplates the hypothetical narrator of his life. What would they say? He'd give it a crack: "Soundwave found himself too comfortable to move, and yet, he knew that he had no choice. Dribbling a mouthful of webbing on the couch would probably result in being forced to relocate, which was far worse than a few minutes of shaping a small object with his hands."

...Right, so he'd just. Do that, then. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:51 PM "... You don't know stories about enforcers? We've seen cop movies." Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:52 PM Swoop is just delighted by the pats. "Where You Bird been? Me Swoop not see You in forever." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:52 PM Amused grunt. Poor Harold.

[[Yes. True. About ones like you, then. Not the 'loose cannons'.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:53 PM Look at this man. He calculates the odds of making a fool of himself. Prowl likes this man immensely. He doesn't deserve to have an intruder in his head. Nobody deserves that. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:53 PM {{Bird been busy. Us work lots always.}} Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:54 PM "Everyone always busy busy" Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:54 PM He pauses in the shaping to fidget in concern. He could answer some of these questions.

Not the clandestine floorboard troll kingdom one. That was ridiculous. Anyway, there was only one member of royalty here, and it wasn't him. {{It cause us adults. That what adult do.}} Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 8:55 PM "Why?" Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:55 PM [[So much for his narrator.]] Or not. Hm. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 8:57 PM "... Can you assassinate a tax auditor? What's the minimum threshold for assassination? It IS possible to kill a tax auditor with a political motive." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 8:59 PM [[If he is politically important, it is assassination. If he is not, it is murder.]] He'll set this roughly shaped car up on the arm of the couch to dry and go back to crossing his arms under his head. [[Are tax auditors important?]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:00 PM "I think so, but I don't think my opinion is popular." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:01 PM [[You choose how to enforce the rules, so he will say that makes it assassination.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:01 PM "... I intensely dislike that answer." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:03 PM He looks up. [[If you are describing the activity involved in the charge, it is up to you. You said you think they are important. So they are, in this report.]] And he returns his attention to the screen, listening to her story. Better to do what makes one happy, he supposes. [[...He could be assassinated, then. He's important.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:05 PM "That implies that whoever's handling the case can arbitrarily decide what is and isn't assassination, which implies a legal system based upon individual enforcers' personal opinions rather than a firm universally agreed-upon set of standards." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:07 PM [[Oh. He did not realize there were established standards for assassination.]] Pushing up onto his elbows. He's interested now. [[What are they? On your Cybertron. Who counts, legally?]] ((whoop i missed swoop's why question)) Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:08 PM "He's in the right to refuse the gift. Even if she didn't mean it that way, it would have been inappropriate for him to accept it and she's out of line for acting like it's a personal affront." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:08 PM {{Bird not know. That what us do. It always that way. You too when old. Neheh. Old Swoop. Fly with cane.}} Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:10 PM Swoop slid slowly onto his belly and giggled at the image. "Old Swoop... that a weird thing keheheh!" Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:11 PM STARTLE. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:12 PM "And that's what I'm saying—I'm not sure if a tax auditor counts under the current criteria. It's ambiguous enough that--" Startle. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:13 PM ...All right, so he's replacing the couch in front of them next week. Nobody's going to want to sit on a sofa with a giant acid hole in it.

He'll just. Get settled again. Ahem.

[[Oh. Then perhaps we should find a judge and ask. It is their duty to interpret ambiguity, is it not?]] {{You Swoop a weird thing.}} She cackles and pats him again. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:14 PM Swoop laughs with her and relaxes sprawled out on the floor. "You BIrd like a old Swoop?" Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:14 PM "Hm. Maybe." He's going to start petting Soundwave again. SpecsToday at 9:15 PM Well, the dragon's not unpoofing anytime soon. Eek. Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 9:15 PM ......well then Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:15 PM That human seems far too glib about the Harold human's upcoming death. How ru-- mmmm. Soothing. He'll apologize to the dragon as soon as he's not soaking in bliss.

{{Dunno. Never seen old Swoop.}} Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:16 PM :V "Maybe no?" Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:17 PM "He's being narrated again. He's moving in the wrong direction." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:19 PM Hm? Saying something? Narration and the wrong direction. Right. Think. Focus. [[The direction tried to find him. It probably doesn't matter.]] [[...Are you all right, dragon?]] {{Dunno. How you Swoop know you like old Bird?}} Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:19 PM "It didn't narrate when his apartment was destroyed." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:20 PM {{This accurate. It like him Rumble.}} Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:20 PM "Cause You already old Bird kehehhehhe!" SpecsToday at 9:21 PM The dragon looks at the couch. The dragon looks back at Soundwave. "...I'll be fine." Just. Give her a moment to stop freaking out internally. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:21 PM He's stopped counting things. That's so sad. He's losing things that make him himself. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:22 PM [[He would not want his apartment destroyed every day.]]

Soundwave follows the dragon's line of sight to the couch, and then to himself, as much as that's possible. [[...He did not mean to scare you.]] Probably unbelievable in this shape, but true. [[FLOURS.]] That's a great pun. What a brilliant joke. It reminds him of some of the absolutely awful but hilarious wordplay he and Prowl have pulled off. ... What a marvelous mech, his--amica. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:23 PM He's grimacing horribly at the entire progress this is taking. SpecsToday at 9:25 PM "I know. If you wanted to scare me, I'd have died of a myocardial infarction." Don't worry, Soundwave, she's a very trusting dragon and has great faith in your abilities to be utterly terrifying. "Acid spitting is not something I'm used to, that's all." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:25 PM [[...He isn't used to it either.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:25 PM Anybody who started offering inappropriate gifts and flaunting auditor-auditee protocol around HIM would be immediately stricken off the list of potential suitors. It shows a lack of basic--basic decency, basic respect for the other person and your unequal position of power with them, basic ability to respect boundaries... "... You can spit acid? I thought it was only blood." He clearly didn't pay enough attention to the movies. "Ugh." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:28 PM [[It is that too. He tested. But, yes. Apparently.]] Soundwave leans into Prowl again. [[You can too. He remembers.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:28 PM "How soon is he going to die." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:28 PM Harold's story is obviously a bad human romance story. They've watched enough of those to know. [[Humans always die shortly after interfacing, in movies. Unless they are in an action story. Then they have to stop their foe.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:31 PM "It's a little late now." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:32 PM A nod. They don't even have a threatening political foe yet. {{Bird not old! Bird young. You hush beak.}} Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:33 PM "Well, maybe they won't have a chance to again." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:34 PM [[Does it matter? She wrote i-- why isn't he dead. She wrote it.]] Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:36 PM ((why oh why didn't he just say he's with the irs?)) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:36 PM ((intelligence 10, wisdom 3)) Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:36 PM ((lololol)) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:36 PM This seeeeeeeeeems less than legal. To him. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:36 PM "Maybe it has to play out in real time in real life even if she's already written the scene." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:37 PM ...But, life or death emergency. He supposes it can be allowed.

[[Hm. He should move faster.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:38 PM "... What's his novel about from HER perspective? From HIS perspective all of his actions are being driven by the fact that he can hear a narrator." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:39 PM [[Perhaps only the relevant portions matter?]] He's. He's not really sure, now that Prowl asks. [[He thought she was writing it as if the character was talking to her in the book. Evidently not.]] Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 9:40 PM Well. This should be fun to watch. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:41 PM ...He wonders if this is what happened the first time someone located Primus. Or--no, what about... [[This reminds him of the Covenant.]] ...That's a disturbing thought. He's going to need a minute to stare into nothing and dwell on that. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:43 PM "... The assistant's handling this well." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:43 PM {{It her job to handle.}} Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:44 PM "Did he just toss it aside? A man's life is on the line." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:45 PM [[He does not think he likes the professor.]] Minor bristle and tense. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:46 PM "... I don't think I do either. As if her career—a piece of fiction—is more important than his life." Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 9:48 PM "....he's not really helping Harold much." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:48 PM Good. Prowl agrees. Satisfying. He would still dislike this fleshling, but this makes him more comfortable in that loathing. [[Most deaths aren't. Let him be happy.]] [[No. He isn't.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:50 PM "... Are they just letting him stay on the bus overnight?" Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:50 PM {{Maybe them not see him.}} Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:50 PM "Him not Mirage keheheh" Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:51 PM "See, SHE can appreciate the weight of her actions." Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 9:51 PM "Yeah..." SpecsToday at 9:53 PM ((SOMEONE just threw up so I'm signing off)) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:53 PM ((oh nooooooo take care of them (and you )) Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 9:53 PM ((oh damn good luck Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 9:53 PM ((yehhh D: )) Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:53 PM This is a terrible ending. Soundwave doesn't like it. Personally, he'd threaten any narrator who thought they could kill him, if he got one and they pulled that on him. Upstairs, Frenzy notices something scratching around in the lounge wall and making one of the panels move. He kicks it. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:55 PM It ends with more nonsense with this completely unlikeable couple, so he's not terribly fond of it. Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 9:56 PM [[Nothing wrong with the counting.]] Irritated huff. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 9:59 PM "Nothing at all." "She changed it?" Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 10:00 PM Soundwave sits up partway. She did? She did! Maybe. Does he die in the hospital? What if that's what she did. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 10:01 PM "Good for her." "... The watch is the character who died." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 10:02 PM [[A noble ending.]] Although now he's sad to see the watch go. They never even found out who it was. Blaster (boomtanknotboombox)Today at 10:03 PM "Well, that's nice. Things get to work out well in the end." Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 10:04 PM "That a lame die. No fight at all." Prowl (verdigrisprowl)Today at 10:06 PM "Well. That was... hellish." Soundwave (Slenderwave)Today at 10:06 PM {{It no die at all. Pfft.}}

[[Hellish?]] Not an argument. Just a request for elaboration. Swoop (medicalmurdersaurus)Today at 10:06 PM "Us go watch SAW movie? kehehehh!" Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 {{Noooo. That not tonight. Maybe Frenzy night.}} realityendshere8904/29/2019 "Awww. Kay." Swoop glanced around. "Us can... still hangout? Maybe?" Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 "Having someone else inserted in your head at all times that you can't claw out? Yes. Absolutely." "... I mean, of course you also get— But they're not so much IN your head as passing through your head. You could get out of range of other minds. As opposed to having one INSIDE you." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 {{Yes! What you Swoop want do?}} realityendshere8904/29/2019 "Me Swoop want to anything with You Bird. Cause You the best." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 [[Oh. Yes, that.]] He thought Prowl meant something else. He's... actually somewhat surprised Prowl got through that without leaving the avatar on pause. At least, he doesn't think Prowl did that. He didn't feel a difference. [[He has to go far to avoid hearing anyone. Very far. But he understands. He still can.]] {{You Swoop smartest. Come on! Us go chase boltbats. Them fly outside this hour.}} realityendshere8904/29/2019 "YAHH! Us go!" Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 He's been practicing. Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 [[Even that kind doesn't look pleasant. He tried narrating himself during the movie. It was irritating.]] Though he did make a nice something out of it. [[It would be much worse if someone else did the commenting. For many reasons. He sees what you meant.]] Laserbeak points the way. She'll fly when they get outside, and no sooner. {{Charge!}} Chaoit04/29/2019 Right. He's going home now. "G'night. Thanks for the movie." realityendshere8904/29/2019 Swoop is a-okay with being her ride and scampers away for the door. Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 A nod. Blaster's welcome.

((and i'll continue tagging in morning)) Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 "I barely even like producing dialogue. I can't narrate." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 Oh, good. Everyone's gone. He can love on and admire his Queen without worrying about making any mistakes while he talks.

If Prowl will let him, he'll take a hand in both of his and inspect it. Make sure nothing's gone wrong with the avatar while he was away.

[[What is this? Us here, now. In your own head, to yourself--what you see.]] He's not entirely sure how to ask for things when he doesn't know whether or not those things are what Prowl is using. [[You showed him other equations once. He's curious.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 The hand is Soundwave's. He's not sure why it's being inspected, but it's Soundwave's now.

He's also not quite sure what Soundwave's asking; and so, absolutely baffled, he gives the only answer he can think of that makes immediate sense to him. "... It's a hand." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 He's in the process of giving one of the finger seams a solid up-close eyeballing when Prowl replies. He stays still in that exact position for a long second, confused by how the two of them sitting curled up on the couch at a movie night with only one normal frame in play resembles a hand (and worse, unable to work out what a hand stands for in the world of mathematics).

Then it clicks and he huffs into the palm before turning it over to look at the back.

[[Not your hand. What you are thinking. What math are you doing right now? How do you classify this]] waving the tail back and forth [[difference if it is still him? Is this a decimal point? Subcategory.]] The bits that come from the alien's mind keep telling him he should KNOW those things already--Queens are supposed to be able to talk the way he does, to speak inside the heads of those who serve them--but Prowl can't do that. Only he can, and he doesn't invade Prowl's head that way. Not even when he's his usual self. So he has to ask. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 "Oh. It's—you're still you. You're the same number, as you were when you changed your paint color."

Trying to answer what math he was doing would be like trying to simultaneously describe every single bit of motion and transfer of energy going on in his body at that exact moment; so instead he gave Soundwave the feed to his HUD. Along with his usual perpetual motion-tracking, there were dozens of minute measurements being made across the surface of Soundwave's armor, as each 2D visual shot was being used to compile a precise 3D model of Soundwave's new body. A complex formula measured and predicted the motion of his waving tail, variables changing rapidly as he moved. Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 [[Unexpected. Intriguing. But he does not share the number with his alternates. That is correct?]]

To say he lit up when he received the feed would not be an exercise in creative writing. The few biolights still visible on his frame turned a much brighter red in response to the gift, peeping out from between silvery-black plates like the optics of a nosy mech watching his neighbors through a set of blinds.

That was right, he could be spoken to through a HUD feed. How brilliant his Queen was, finding this alternative. How positively stunning. What he wouldn't do to prove himself worthy, even when he wasn't modified and high on the giddiness of a drone given individual attention. (Well. His normal self might do a BIT less.)

He continued waving the tail in new patterns to watch the formula and prediction change in real time, awed as ever. He wondered, had Prowl already figured out how the transformation sequence worked, going from root to alt with this shape? What would he do with the 3D model once he had it--run simulations of some kind?

[[You never cease to amaze.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 "There's a number for Soundwaves as a category, and a number for you individually."

The lit-up biolights were registered, marked, and had calculations run on them as well. On one the side of his HUD he started running a probably incomprehensible formula designed to determine how turned on Soundwave probably was.

When Prowl realized that Soundwave was deliberately controlling his tail's motions instead of letting it swing naturally, the in-progress calculations vanished and were replaced with different ones, predicated on the assumption that each vertebrae was being controlled independently rather than merely swinging freely in a sort of flexible pendulum. "Give me time. But thank you." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 [[What WOULD make his number change? If anything. Do you like the number, or is that of no consequence?]] He lifted a hand as if to point before remembering that he'd made the feed an inside view only. A moment to fix that, and he tapped the new formula that had popped up after his biolights activated. [[What is this?]]

Prowl could even see a difference in the movement? Soundwave knew when Ravage was controlling his own tail and when he wasn't, but that was mostly through exposure and experience. Fascinating. Did that have some kind of special use in the interrogation room? Practiced motion versus natural motion? Or did that fall into the category of things Prowl had difficulties interpreting sometimes? Oh, he had so many, many questions! And so little time to ask them.

[[Hm. He does not think that is true. But if it is, you will still be to him then what you are now.]] Pause. [[That is his thought. Not an alien's.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 "Brain damage. I like it NOW; but it was only a number I hadn't used yet until it was yours."

Prowl jerked his head back slightly as Soundwave pointed in the air at the formula. No one had ever done that before. Very few had ever been given such an opportunity, but Soundwave was the only one who had taken it. It was kind of... kind of thrilling. His HUD gazed at the world; the world didn't gaze at his HUD. Thrilling, but also somehow left him feeling exposed.

"Oh, I was—trying to—deduce probable changes in your arousal levels as indicated by biolight fluctuations." The sentence descended into a mumble.

"I think it's true; not because I don't think I'm adequately fascinating, but because given long enough familiarity over a long enough time frame, anything would cease to be 'amazing' and merely become... understood and appreciated. And—my hope is that we'll have such a long time frame. But thank you." Does alien Soundwave still like bunts, even with his head a different shape? He bunted Prowl's leg earlier, so maybe. He leans down to offer one. Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 [[Ah. He does not plan to have any, so that is good. He would like you to keep being able to use his number. He likes it, too.]]

He didn't so much like making Prowl jerk back. Did he commit a breach of etiquette? He turned pieces of his own HUD to the outside often enough; it'd never occurred to him that someone else might not be comfortable seeing him react to theirs. It made sense. Not everyone was comfortable hearing their own voice played back to them either.

[[He should have asked before pointing. And he hadn't--he didn't think you would want to know if he was aroused. This is not his usual shape. He would not blame you if you didn't. But he was. Is. Mostly. Part of him was just--happy, to be given that. The rest of him is very much--]] You know what? He's being awkward. He's just. Going to reset his vocalizer and try to stop making a fool of himself. [[He is.]]

[[And understood and appreciated is not 'merely'. It is big, and important, and he--wants that. For you, and him. Both of us. The long time frame as well. And you are welcome.]]

Yes, he still likes bunts. The head shape doesn't matter, beyond what it happens to be hiding that his back no longer does. It will never matter. If anything, it means he can amuse himself giving a bigger one than usual. So, he completes it. ((for the record that's an "i'm a little surprised and off-guard and did not expect that" didn't think you would want to know, not a "i am trying to hide it from you")) Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/29/2019 "My brain damage, I meant. If YOU'RE brain damaged, you still keep your number."

He'd worried Soundwave. He gave him an apologetic ping. "It's fine, it's just—never happened before. I'm used to how I see the world being invisible to everyone else." At least Soundwave was awkward now too; they weren't alone in it. "I don't mind knowing. ... And you're not very good at hiding it, anyway." Humor ping.

Bunt. "Well—'merely' only in comparison to the emotional scale of 'amazement.' But you're right, it is important." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/29/2019 [[That is not something he would like to see either. He would deal with it however you request, but it is not ideal. Let us try to avoid either situation.]]

That felt weird. An apology from Prowl. That was... probably more common than he realized, now that he thought about it, but it confused the instincts. Queens didn't apologize. Well, those instincts would just have to put up with it. Prowl was just Prowl, and he did when he felt it necessary, so there.

[[It is a good view. He would like to see it more often, when you feel like sharing. ...And there's usually no reason to hide that from you. If he did, you wouldn't know, and that is the opposite of what he'd want.]] Humor ping back.

[[And of course he is right.]] Settle. Comfortable. Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/30/2019 "Agreed. I'd prefer both our brains in their current states."

Prowl nodded. He'd keep that in mind. It wasn't something he usually just casually showed people, unless they requested it—but, maybe he ought to make a point of it with Soundwave?

He huffed. "No, we wouldn't get very far if you were hiding it," he said dryly. "... You don't need to hide it now, either. The new frame is unusual, certainly, but—it doesn't bother me. If that's what you were concerned about." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/30/2019 It would be up to Prowl. Soundwave wouldn't push the issue. If he got to see, he would ask a half million questions and be thrilled, but if he didn't, he'd survive. He'd like being around Prowl either way.

[[...Oh.]] It might've been. And he still wasn't sure he was reading the statement right. That didn't stop him from de-settling out of interest. [[Did you--?]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/30/2019 "Did I...?" He had a handful of half-formed guesses about what Soundwave was trying to ask, but none firm enough to act upon. Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/30/2019 [[Wish to keep our usual post-movie schedule?]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/30/2019 Prowl hesitated before replying. "I'm... concerned about accidentally taking advantage of the present power imbalance." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/30/2019 [[Then let us stay here. He trusts that you would not err, but he'd also prefer you to be comfortable. And he enjoys being in your company as much as anything else. It has been some time since we simply... were.]] Prowl (verdigrisprowl)04/30/2019 Prowl leaned down to bunt Soundwave again. "All right. I like the sound of that." Soundwave (Slenderwave)04/30/2019 Bunt. He'd give a kiss, but he'd rather not seal Prowl's avatar's mouth shut. [[Good. So does he.]]

And he'll curl up half on Prowl's lap again, just basking in his amica's/Queen's presence, up until such time as he falls asleep.

#chat

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years ago

Text

Survey #178

“for such a little thing, you sure are in your own way.”

What’s your favorite type of bird? Barn owls are actual deities. What was on the last sandwich you ate? Pb & j. What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? Same stuff I listen to now, although I had a mild screamo-ish phase. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. How far away is the closest store to your house and what is it? Some cheap dollar store in the town, dunno names. What is your favorite Thai dish? Haven't tried any. When was the last time you made out with somebody? Over a month back. What month of the year was your mother born? August. Are there any candles in your bedroom, and what scent are they? No. What TV show(s) have you been watching currently? None. How many apps do you have on your phone? Six. My phone has so, so little storage ugh. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? No to both. Are there any movies you’ve seen so many times? Yeah, sure. Of course a lot as a kid, Finding Nemo and The Lion King 1 & 2 especially, then I've watched both Blair Witch Project movies a lot, Jim Carrey's How the Grinch Stole Christmas... How would you describe your sense of humor? Sarcastic. What’s your favorite type of bread? Pumpernickel. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yeah. Have there ever been any brushfires/wildfires in your area? Yeah. What did you have to eat for dinner last night? Nothing (Thanksgiving was lunch). Do you have separate emails for personal and business? No. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. Do you know your significant other’s passwords? No, I have no reason to. Would you like to study abroad one day? No. Does someone have a crush on you but you don’t feel the same way? Idk. Who do you feel most beautiful around? Sara. /v\ What’s one makeup item you cannot live without? I could easily live without any. Is there one thing all of your ex’s had in common? All guys. Did you french kiss before you were 16? No. Imagine your spouse just died; would you get re-married? I don't know if I would. Like... I'd never stop loving her, so "moving on" to someone else just because she's no longer physically here would feel disloyal. What’s your favorite thing about life? New, fun experiences and creating strong bonds with people like you. Who pays for the first date? Idrc, but probably whoever proposed the date? Or split the bill? Have you ever had a friend that got a bf/gf, and then completely ignored you? Yeah. Do you play any computer games, if so, what ones? Not currently 'cuz my gaming laptop has to be fixed. :| When it is and I have my own income, I might return to WoW, but I'm not sure. I think the subscription is kinda high, and I have more important things to handle. What is the funniest movie you’ve ever seen? Idk why I find White Chicks so goddamn funny. What lyric means the most to you? Off the very top of my head, "A bloody war behind my eyes; I'll come all right on the other side" from "Free" by Mother Mother. Really makes me think of all I've been through but how I keep coming out stronger. Who is the smartest person you know? Girt. What’s the next movie you will see in theaters? Idk. Are you adopted? No. What band do you like that most people hate? You canNOT look me in the face and say you don't like at least one Nickelback song. I don't get the hate. Any new bands that you actually enjoy? Oh idk. What is your escape from reality? RPing. Do you have any self-inflicted scars on your arms? You can only just barely see them. Do you like “scene” hair? YEAH AND I ALWAYS FUCKING WANTED IT BUT I COULD NEVER POSE IT CORRECTLY 'CUZ MY HAIR WAS TOO THICK AND HEAVY. Have your parents ever been to jail? No. If your friend asked you to hold their drugs, would you? Definitely not. Does it scare you when a relationship moves too fast? Y E A H Would you ever consider hitchhiking? I don't know if I would even in a desperate situation... I don't trust people. Have you ever hitchhiked? No. Have you ever been to a music festival? No. What color car do you want to have? Burnt orange. Would you rather hike a mountain or explore a cave? Explore a cave!!! Would you rather wear a flower crown or veil? Probably a veil? Do you believe peace on earth is attainable? I honestly don't believe so. What type of tattoo do you want? s o m a n y What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Would you ever live in the desert? Nooooo. Fuck the heat. Is your town beautiful? I don't really live in one, but the closest town isn't. Which season do you want to get married in? Autumn. Are totem poles cool? YEAH! Favorite art forms? Conceptual photography. What kind of music do you enjoy? Plenty sorts of metal, rock, and alternative. Do you have any gay friends? Yeah. Where is your favorite place to go? The zoo, even though I have mixed feelings about them... Do you know your dad? Yeah. How often do you get on Facebook? At least once a day. Are you related to anyone who’s in prison? Don't think so?? What concerts are you attending in the near future? Y'ALL I MIGHT FUCKING SEE OZZY IN JANUARY. He and Megadeth are coming to Charlotte and the tickets aren't too bad. :') It's a loooong drive but Mom was like "hell yeah" when I told her and wants to buy tickets after she gets her tax return AH. Metallica is a possibility too, but Mom doesn't think she can afford it. If you were kicked out of your house, where would you go first? Dad's. What are you currently looking forward to? Sara's b-day, Christmas, hopefully getting my laptop fixed, aforementioned concerts, and school. What was the reason you got grounded for last? Idk, that was a long time ago. But most likely for "talking back" to Mom. The last two people you kissed, are they virgins? Yes; probably not. Is there a guy that knows everything or mostly everything about you? Yeah. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed? A bit to the left. If you could have anything delivered to your doorstep each morning, what would it be? Um,,, money?????? What is one vacation destination that many people think is just fabulous but which you personally have no desire to visit (or revisit)? New York City. Heard from my sister it's a shithole with the craziest and rudest people known to Planet Earth. I'm not big on cities, anyway. Which animated character is your all-time favorite? Uhhhhhh... Dory, maybe? If you could own a home on the shore of any body of water in the world, which waterfront would you choose? I WANT THE PINK BEACHES OF THE BAHAMAS. But I'm scared of the Bermuda Triangle so will probably never see them. :'''''') What serves as the greatest motivation for you in your daily life? MY RECOVERY. If I got through what I have, I can't ever give up and roll back down that hill. I'm focusing to always improve. If you could have any round object in the world, what spherical item would you want? t h e g a m e s p h e r e , l a d s If you were left alone for one hour with nothing more than a pen and a notepad, what would you be inclined to draw or write during those 60 minutes? Practice eyes or start a poem. If you could witness anything at all in super-slow motion, what would you want to see? Hmmm... OH, maybe a big cat's tongue licking meat. See how it actually shears tiny bits off. Cats' tongues are cool. What do you forget to do more often than anything else? Take my anxiety med at the right time. If you could teach everyone in the world one skill, what would it be? Compassion. You’ve been offered the chance to paint a billboard along a highway with any message you choose, as long as it’s only 10 words long. What is your message? Oh jeez, I'd have to think too hard on this. Who’s the last guy to give you roses? Tyler. Did your parents do drugs when they were younger? Not to my knowledge, and I doubt they would've. Do you have any relatives who live on a different continent than you? I don't believe so. What are your religious beliefs? Were you raised with those beliefs, or did you develop them on your own? I'm a theist, entailing I believe in a creator, but I know nothing about him/her/it. I personally picture them as a peaceful and sage deity that allows life to go on without it intervening anywhere, letting the world evolve on its own and see how we adapt to our unique settings and handle life. In the end, I believe we are either given some form of paradise or a type of damnation depending on how you wrote your story. I like to imagine the good go to their personal vision of "Heaven," and I wonder if the paranormal activity some experience in life are the acts of the damned, apparently confined to remain on Earth or something. Anyway, I wasn't raised with such beliefs; they were developed. I was brought up Catholic, then I turned to just simple Christianity as I didn't agree with a lot of Catholic ideas, and most recently I abruptly turned away from that in favor of theism. How did you and your significant other celebrate your last anniversary? We went out for breakfast. What has been your favorite house/apartment/etc you’ve ever lived in? My last house for location, as a house itself, my childhood one. What’s something in your house that currently needs to be cleaned? I need to vacuum my room. Do you still remember any of the dreams or nightmares you had as a child? Yup. What’s the most bizarre conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The world is donut-shaped. Yeah. Do you have a good sense of direction? Not. At. All. Who was your first crush? Did you ever actually date them? Dylan, and no. What’s the weirdest, rudest, or most ridiculous thing a guest has ever done in your home? Who knows. Has anyone ever told you you’re manipulative? I don't think so. Do you know anyone who owns their own business? No. When was the last time you weren’t 100% sober? Uhhh maybe that movie night with Colleen and Chelsea. Is obtaining a college degree something that is important to you? Well, for my possible career future. Have you ever eaten at a vegan restaurant? No. Do you view substance abuse as a disease or a choice? I have... mixed feelings here. Starting something, that is indisputably a choice. Becoming addicted though, I'm not sure. Some people have addictive personalities so have a bigger inclination to become addicted, but isn't that just a personal trait/weakness you can fight?? I dunno. I know it's labelled as a disease by people way more informed than me though, so. What does the last text you sent say? Don't feel like checking. Does it bother you when people call you ‘ma'am’ or ‘sir?’ No. I live in the South, that's polite. Have you ever been obsessed with a television character? Does Dory count for movies? ha ha Do you ever wish you had powers of invisibility? Not really. What was the last thing that changed your life completely? Recovery. Do you have any step siblings? One. Have you ever been questioned by the police? No. In which state/country were you born? NC, U.S.A. Have you ever been to an amusement park out of state? Disney World. What do you normally drink when eating at a fast food restaurant? Coke or Mountain Dew. Have the police ever been looking for you? Not because I did something wrong; I've told the beach story a few times. If you chew gum, which kind is your favorite? I love the watermelon Hubba Bubba one asjfawoeu Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yeah. What was the last liquid that you choked on? Water, just this morning when I was taking my meds ah. How many times did you wake up today before actually getting up? Well, I woke up once in the middle of the night like usual, then I woke up at like, 6-something and went back to sleep. Who did you celebrate your last birthday with? Mom, sises, Ash's husband and kids, and Dad stopped by. Was your last kiss initiated by you or the other person? I think it was kinda a simultaneous thing. We were saying bye. Do you buy a ton of things at the store at once or just for that day? Mom does the shopping, but it depends on how much time she has and what's at the house. When getting dressed do you put your pants or shirt on first? Pants. When you kiss a person where do your hands usually go? I actually don't know if it's a consistent thing for me??? I don't kiss anyone regularly so I don't recognize a pattern. What is one song you listen to that you’re sure not many people do? "False Flags," probs. Massive Attack is so neglected of the attention they deserve. Do you use a handrail on stairs if there is one? Yes, I'm scared of tripping. What was the last thing you saw that made you smile? Teddy came right up into my face wanting attention. What is your favorite drinking game? Never played any. Do you have any tattoos that you don’t like anymore? I think I've mentioned why I don't love my "ohana" one now. I'm getting it covered at some point. My "perfectly flawed" one is probably getting covered by a much bigger piece; I picked a bad location for it to want a sleeve. I'd just maybe redesign it, put if somewhere else. Do you have a shower curtain or door? Curtain. Who was the last person from your high school graduating class you saw? Probs Colleen? Who was the last non-relative you hung out with? Sara. Are you listening to anything right now? I'm way too obsessed with "Black Wedding" by In This Moment (feat. Rob Halford). Rob makes it, and the chorus is awesome. How many keys are on your keychain? One. Who was the last person you took a photograph with? Ryder, my nephew. Are you left handed? No. What were you most scared of when you were little? Losing my mom/being separated from her. Are you biracial? No. When was the last time you painted your nails? What color(s)? I couldn't even guess. Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? Thank fuck no. Have you ever overflown a bathtub? Don't think so. What’s at the top of your to-do list in life? Stay positive, never stop aiming to improve. What was the last thing you shared? Well, Thanksgiving food. Where are you most ticklish? Feet. Do not- Which cartoon character do you want to keep as a pet? Uhhhh how 'bout an Espeon. I imagine them to be calm and silently affectionate like cats and very intelligent. Have you ever considered a career in music/acting? No. When was the last time you felt seriously embarrassed? Getting food yesterday. Per usual, let things die down, but I still ended up crammed in a corner, unable to go in any direction while someone was trying to get past me. I was headed for an anxiety attack and felt like a total nuisance. I'm pretty sure it showed in how I was whipping my head around, shuffling in various directions, clearly wanting the fuck out. Have you ever liked a song, looked up the lyrics to it, then hated it? No, lyrics can't ruin a song I like the sound of. What would be the icing on the cake for you this Christmas? A PS4, omg. I have to get my laptop fixed and a new camera, so I highly doubt I'm getting that or a tablet considering cost. I want to play the Spyro Reignited trilogy beyond words, like I refuse to even watch a let's play because I want to experience it all first-hand, but. Yeah, unlikely anytime soon. If you had the opportunity to live forever, would you take it? Noooooo. Do you like quesadillas? Only chicken and/or cheese ones. Did you like the show Invader Zim? I surprisingly never saw it. What’s the greatest/most influential song you’ve ever heard? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy always makes me wanna get off my ass and do something. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen in a grocery store? A HUGE BOX OF ANIMAL HEADS IN THE MIDDLE OF WAL-MART, BECKONING THE FURRIES INTO ITS DEPTHS. Have you ever bought yourself a present on Christmas? No. Well, I've used money I've been given on Christmas, if that counts. Have you ever been on a mechanical bull? No. Do you need a key card to get into the building you live in? No. Have you ever stepped in chewing gum? Yes. Name all the people you know that you’ve seen today. Just Mom.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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dachi-chan25 · 7 years ago

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Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 6 Recap Pt. 1

Oh boy… I need to vent again, I’m sorry, but thanks to everyone reading this, it’s a cathartic experience if anything.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS; Not a D@€ny fan, but if you follow me you already know that and if you don’t no problem that’s why I always warn you about it; Jonsa shipper and still growing strong ( I always loved the Tyrell OK???)

Before diving into the recap:

1.- The toughts, tinfoily wishy washy stuff, analysis, random stuff that I write are my own only, and in no form or way am I trying to convince you that I am right and every body else is wrong, I have been wrong about fandom stuff a LOT, and really it’s just fun for me to do this, anyway I am open to debate if you want just be respectful. Feel free to correct me if you notice I have some facts I present wrong, I will never get mad about it and will even thank you for your insight.

2.- The analysis/opinions I express of certain ships/characters are just my opinion as an audience, if you like the ship/characters good! That’s what makes the fandom experience such a diverse thing, and I have nothing against you. Keep on loving the thing you love!

3.- The Salt Throne and I are one entity of pure undiluted Salt and bitterness,if you don’t wish to subject yourself to reading my salty fangirl rants I completely understand.

—————

1.- We start on that table-map, helI feel I condemned myself saying I didn’t wanted no more close-ups of the thing, anyway so it’s just a pretty shot to get to where the story (plot? What plot?) really pick’s up: Eastwatch by the sea.

We are with the suicide squad on this show’s dumbest mission, but then again this season a lot of dumb things happened so I am resigned. Yeah so Jon and Tormund are talking about how dumb this mission is (got is breaking the fourth wall now???) while Gendry is freezing, Tormund is happy to be back North of the Wall cuz the air in the south is shit, Jon is like bih you never went south but really is agreeing actually Jon seems much more himself now that he is in the North again. Tormund and Jon tease Gendry about making do with him cuz there are no ladies here (ahaha joking about experiencing homosexual sex but no homo bro it’s just because we have no ladies amirite? Am I watching got or the big b4ng th€or¥?) and you know what else they don’t have?? Horses, and food, and those pesky dragonglass weapons, and a raven to send for help should anything happen… But no ladies are the priority. (*sigh* this show is so painfully obviously written by man) Gendry apparently believes them and goes away, Tormund comments he isn’t very bright, he needn’t be says Jon cuz they need the brawn and not the brains right? No this stupid ass mission could have seriously used some brains.

Anyway this next convo of conversations was very intresting to hear, not because they add anything to the plot (if such a thing exists anymore in this show) but I think they are important in understanding the theme they have in common and the relevance I think they have in the final scenes of the episode.

First we have a Tormund/Jon convo, our funny redhead asks about the Dragon Queen, and I expected they would use this chance to make some crude remark about her beauty or her body (dude not a second ago they were joking about bedding Gendry!!) but no, the conversation never goes in the direction that could further the idea of Jon’s attraction to D, Jon trusts Tormund and it would be normal for bros to discuss this stuff (remember how Jon giggled about Tormund mentioning Brienne last episode), instead a very weary and frustrated Jon states she (D) wouldn’t help unless he bends the knee, Tormund says that won’t happen cuz Jon spent so much time with the Wildings to be a kneeler again, but then he moves on to talk about Mance Ryder (dude this Jon/Mance parallels are hitting me in the face like a cold fish, I know D&D I noticed! You haven’t been subtle about this!!! You used the same FUCKING dialogue) and how the dude could have saved a lot of lives if he just had let go of his pride and knelt (so Tormund is our Jon in this parallel ain’t he?) it just made me laugh that Tormund, a wildling cuz they are still Free Folk and rule themselves even if they have an alliance with the KitN, is the one to suggests kneeling, but then I realized how big of a fucken deal that is, Mance could have saved those lives yes (and that’s mere speculation honestly cuz Stannis and his army could have also died at Hardhome #just saying) but he decided keeping his people’s will was more important, Jon respected that to the point he defyied Stannis (they needed his help and dude had just saved them) openly by killing Mance, and now Tormund who is kind of the new Free Folk king/leader is saying it would have been OK if he knelt to save everyone’s lives in front of Jon whom is in a very similar situation.

Then we get a Jorah/Jon convo, again perfect oportunity to show them as D’s love interests and rivals, or for Jorah to wax poetic about Khaliiisi and Jon being jealous or some shit. Some serious talk, if we had time in this compact season for Jon to threaten (or pardon) every man who ever crossed paths with Sansa, why Gendry or the Hound haven’t mentioned Arya at all, if logic states that she is someone this people have in common and should talk about? (like Theon asking about Sansa, or Tyrion) Why Jorah doesn’t talk about D if Jon is her new love interest and it would be a nice and neat contrast between the two of them? Instead they disscus another people they have in common, ex-Lord Commander Jeor Mormont and Ned Stark, oh yes they talk about their dads, Jon says how wonderful was Jorah’s dad and how awful was his death, while Jorah said it must have been heartbreaking for his dad whose entire life was the NW and Jon talks about Ned “the goodest most honorable man ever” dying like a traitor for his honor and pride (like I sense a pattern, can you tell? Gods D&D are too subtle guys) and goes as far as to say he is glad his dad didn’t kill Jorah (you know making him pay for his crime in a just honorable way). Honestly what was the point of this conversation if not that survival is most important than honor? The writers (through Jon) are celebrating that Jorah survived even if he has done sketchy awful things (among them he conspired to have D and her baby killed so he would be allowed to go back to Westeros).

Right we get an intresting end to this convo, Jon offers Jorah Longclaw (why would he give him the sword if he is gonna need it right now in the stupid ass Wight hunt? Why didn’t he gave it to Lady Lyanna Mormont, she has presumably begun training cuz she said to Lord Glover she wasn’t gonna sit by the fire while the man defended the North??? Why would he give it to someone if Jeor gave it to him cuz he didn’t wanted Jorah to have it???) but the point of the conversation it’s not the sword, because Jorah rejects it, it’s about planting the possibility of children in Jon’s future. people have been screaming Targ baby to the heavens and back, and if that is what you chose to belive alright, but I think not, if that was the case wouldn’t it be appropiate to have the Targ theme or the J/D song in the background and transition to DS where D talks about children with Tyrion like she does in a future scene? I would have believed it then. But instead we have the Stark theme and the scene transitioning to Arya and SANSA, call me delusional if you want but for me this is another check in the ‘targcest is building up tarbowl’ column.

Summarizing this we get the very bright neón message of Honor=Death. Which I’ll bring back later.

2.- Y'all remember those good times when the WF storyline was the only thing getting me through all the bullshit I was being fed by D&D? Well they’re over. As I said in point 1 we get a transition of Arya and Sansa looking down at the courtyard while Arya talks about how Ned watched the boys training and tries to diminish Sansa’s connection to her family by stating she was surely too busy sewing to know that (have fun freezing your limbs off darling!!! Sewing and Knitting and all those “delicate female” activities you sniff at are the reason you have clothes miss, really I can’t with this where is the Arya that thought woman to be of equal importance than man?) Sansa is having none of that and says she remembers, we get a cute memory of Arya practicing archery in secret and Ned approving (we get again nods to the patriarchy is wrong! But this is sloppy as fuck if D&D make Arya feel superior to non-warrior inclined girls, like that is also misogynistic) Sansa is smiling fondly (she at this point is more of a feminist icon than any other girl in this show, make no mistake she is not upset or resentful of warrior girls, she approved with a smile when Lyanna said girls on Bear Island were going to be trained too, and she smiles at the memory Arya is sharing with her of defying the rules and practicing archery cuz that made her happy) but then things take a turn for worse when Arya said that Ned is dead cuz Sansa helped the Lannisters. I never asked for this bullshit!!! Not even Ned blamed Sansa for anything, even if Sansa hadn’t alerted her Cersei was gonna kill Robert to protect herself and her children, Ned died for Joffrey’s cruelty (he wasn’t even supposed to die, he was to be sent to the Wall) and yes Sansa had a role to play in the chain of events that led to that, but Sansa had no way of knowing that, she only tried to save her family! The smile gets wiped from my girl’s face she is completely at loss. Arya takes out the letter and starts reading it out, even when Sansa asks her to stop cuz she already knows what does the letter say (wow I can’t belive D&D keep on triggering Sansa through her siblings, FUCKING disgusting) Arya is being unnecessary cruel, blaming Sansa for being powerless to stop their father’s death when she herself was equally powerless, like????? D&D are pushing this Starkbowl bs cuz this is got and nothing can be nice for 2 sec. But really this shit has no basis, you have Wight Hunt Team people who have literally killed each other or tried to working together and joking and then have two sisters who went through hell and back fighting cuz one of them thinks the other survived KL by being a princess in a tower??? Like how is this logical? Even if this is a cleverly crafted Arya plot (I think there is some logic to this) to kill LF is not fair for Sansa, god can’t she have good things on her life? D&D took away the safety of her home by marrying her off to Ramsey and have him rape her in her HOME, and now they make her family treat her one like a stranger and the other like shit???? I’m not asking for Arya to thank Sansa on her knees like she suggested (if anything Sansa was super brave standing her ground and defending her possition and everything she did to retake their home) I don’t want everyone to worship her as they do certain someone all I am asking for is respect and safety for someone who deserves it! Really and Arya suggesting Lyanna Mormont would go for Sansa’s throat why yes she is a child, one that has lost a lot with all this fucking wars but still a child that lacks the knowledge of the true game of thrones and what it takes to survive it, like you Arya (doesn’t she remembers she was cupbearer to Tywin who literally was responsible for the murder of her brother and mother? This is actually what leads me to think this is a ploy cuz Arya is not a hypocrite as far as we’ve seen) still this was painful to watch if you love the Starks.

Anyway leaving my frustration with this cheap drama aside, did anyone notice the parallels between the Arya and Sansa confrontation and the Jon/Tormund and Jon/Jorah conversations? The Wight Hunt Team was talking about great honorable man whose honor and moral code brought their downfall and in the Sansa and Arya, the youngest sister was blaming the eldest for having no honor and surviving (she goes as far as to say she would have rather died than betray her family) while Sansa defends what she did and shows how far she has come from paying the game.

Again this thing is not subtle at all.

———

This is too long so Part 2 is coming!

#Game of Thrones #jonsa #season 7 #7x06 recap #part 1 #dachi rambles #anti daenerys #anti jonerys #just to be safe

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got7-texts · 8 years ago

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Busy - Jinyoung (Day 67/100)

You can find my post explaining the 100 Day Drabble Challenge here

To read the other drabbles in my drabble challenge, click here

Prompt: Busy Member: Jinyoung x Reader AU: HarryPotter!AU

Word Count: 2149

Two in one day?! OMG, my mom would be so proud :') Also, this is one of my favorite AU's and drabbles. I think I love it because I incorporated more than just one character, but I really like this one y'all~

“Wait, so what happened when you asked her?” Jaebum asked, sitting down across from Jinyoung while adjusting his green tie. Jinyoung had his chin in his hands and looked solemn with a faraway expression.

“Apparently she just said she was too busy studying for exams,” Mark chimed in from where he was sitting next to Jinyoung. Jinyoung gave a small groan but continued to stare off into the distance as he thought about his encounter with you earlier that day.

He had known you since your first year since you were both in Ravenclaw, and you had been acquaintance for a while, but it was only recently in the past year or so that he began to develop feelings for you. He had never really dated anyone before, though, so he wanted to make sure that everything went well.

He had talked about you to all of his friends and they had agreed that he should ask you out, but when he asked you to hang out with him at the Three Broomsticks that weekend, you had apologized, saying that midterms were going to be the death of you.

“Maybe she didn’t pick up on the fact that you were actually asking her out,” Jaebum pitched, reaching over to grab a muffin. Jinyoung hummed but continued to mope and feel sorry for himself.

“Try asking her again tomorrow!” Jackson pitched, excitedly appearing out of thin air, his red tie loosely draped around his neck as he sat next to Mark. Jinyoung looked up at his friend and shot him a confused look.

“Why bother? She already said no,” he said, putting his head back in his hands and sighing wistfully.

“No, she said she was busy studying for exams. That’s not a no. That’s a ‘this time doesn’t work for me so ask again later’,” Jaebum said with a small smirk on her face.

“Yea! You have to be persistent! And since it’ll be Friday tomorrow say ‘next week’ don’t just be like ‘Saturday night at 7’,” Jackson said, using air quotes before letting out an ‘oohh’ at the muffin in Jaebum’s hand and grabbing one for himself.

“So you want me to get rejected twice?” Jinyoung asked, looking back and forth at his friends. They all had encouraging looks on their faces and seemed to want him to go for it once more.

“Just do it. What’s the worst that can happen?” Mark said, giving him another smile.

“I’m really sorry, Jinyoung but next week is even worse for me. That’s when I actually have all of the exams” you exclaimed, your mind flying in a million directions at once. “I have a Potions paper, a Transfiguration and a Herbology Exam a project for Care of Magical Creatures, and I have to do a bunch of interviews for History of Magic,” you added, wanting nothing more than to go to your room and cry over all of the work you had yet to finish.

You watched as Jinyoung’s smile fell from his face and you could tell that he was disappointed, which only made you feel worse. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a small crush on the Ravenclaw. He was charming and sweet and also one of the most intelligent people you had met in a long time.

And that’s exactly why you couldn’t say yes.

You knew that the moment you did, you would be head over heels for him. It would be worse than an Amortentia potion, and that was not what you needed right before all of your exams. You needed a clear head, lots of time, and no distractions.

Even if that meant temporarily distancing yourself of the one person you actually wanted to spend more time with.

“Oh. That’s okay, I understand,” he said, keeping a small smile on his face that was clearly being used to mask another emotion. You clutched your book harder into your stomach and resisted the urge to reach out to take his hand in your own.

“Jinyoung, I…I’m really sorry. I would love to go out with you but it’s…it’s just not a good time right now,” you stuttered, cussing at yourself for being unable to tell him how you truly felt. If you told him you had feelings for him, that would just make the waiting even more painful for the both of you, so you had to push everything aside.

“Yea, no problem. I’ll see you in Astronomy on Monday, okay?” he said, giving you a small wave and then hurrying down the corridor, leaving you to feel even worse about yourself and the decisions you made. You breathed deeply and bit your lip, deciding that you had already made your decision and that you would stay by it.

Until your last exam next Friday, you would not think about Jinyoung at all.

“She hates me.” “She doesn’t hate you.” “She literally said she hates me!” “Did she actually?” “No, but she might as well have.”

Mark shook his head and glanced around the Ravenclaw common room, punching Jackson to get his attention to help. The Gryffindor abruptly looked up from his book with a confused look and a muttered ‘ow’ making Mark glare at him and then shake his head and look at Jaebum. The latter sighed and scooted over on the sofa to sit next to Jinyoung.

“Look, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you’re a Ravenclaw, right? So think about it logically. If she said this week is her exam week, then that means she’s only busy for this week. Just wait until the end of the week and ask her out again after she’s done with her exams,” Jaebum said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Isn’t three times considered desperate,” Jinyoung mumbled, staring into the fireplace.

“No.” “No.” “Yes.”

All three boys looked at Jackson with disbelief but he simply looked up and shrugged.

“Well, he’s desperate, right? It’s not a bad thing…” he mumbled, going back to reading his book. Jaebum and Mark shot each other a look before turning back to Jinyoung.

“Look, everything will be fine. Just give it some time and next week, try again,” Jaebum said, matter of factly.

“And iinstead of just asking her out, tell her how you feel about her. She might be more inclined to tell you how she feels as well,” Mark said, patting Jinyoung on the back and returning to the essay he was working on. Jinyoung nodded and sighed, mumbling a ‘thanks’ to his friends before staring back into the fireplace and debating how to confess to you.

’Just one more question….and…DONE!’ you thought to yourself as you practically lept out of your seat to turn in your exam. You shot the professor a smile and then made your way out of the classroom. You stood for a moment outside the door and took a deep breath. You were finally free for the rest of the weekend.

The only thing left to do was to find someone to spend it with.

You immediately headed down the stairs towards the Great Hall. Although you had tried to push thoughts of Jinyoung asking you to dinner out of your head so you could focus on your exams, he would still creep into your mind every time you took a break or stopped focusing on school.

You had always felt attracted to him, but now you were feeling stronger and stronger by the minute. You cursed yourself for not at least confessing your feelings before, but there was no way that you could go back and change your decision. It’s not like you had a time turner or anything.

And besides, you were sure that he would understand. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to have such a huge pride that he wouldn’t accept your feelings just because something was in the way for a while.

You entered the hall and immediately headed to the Ravenclaw table, scanning it up and down for any signs of the boy. You knew that he was free at this time because you would always come here after class for a snack and you would catch glimpses of him now and then.

Today, however, you couldn’t seem to find him at all. You did however, spot your housemate Mark eating with the Gryffindor (you thought his name was Jackson?) that Jinyoung always spent time with. You were reluctant to ask them where their friend was, but after a few moments of pacing back and forth, you decided to best your anxiety and you headed towards them.

“Um…excuse me?” you said, your light soft as you called for the attention of the two boys. As they turned to you, Mark’s face softened in recognition and he shot you a smile.

“Hey, Y/N!” he said, cheerfully. “You looking for Jinyoung?” he added, making your heart beat faster. How did he know? Had you been compromised? Did someone already tell Jinyoung how you felt? Did Jinyoung not feel the same anymore? Did he not want to see you?

“Yes, actually I was,” you stated, your voice much more confident than how you truly felt. “Do you know where he is?” you asked, casually.

“He said he would be out by the courtyard working on something, but he didn’t say for how long,” Jackson said, genially. “I’d try the Clock Tower Courtyard,” he added, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. You nodded and told them both ‘thank you’ before heading out of the hall.

As you walked through the castle, you began to feel nervous, wondering what to say to him and how to confess. You remembered all the times in each of your classes that you had seen him and felt your stomach do flips. As you reached the courtyard, you tried to spot him and ultimately found him leaning up against one of the arches.

“Jinyoung!” you exclaimed, slightly out of breath. You hadn’t realized you had been walking so fast and you were now a bit embarrassed, hoping you didn’t look as frazzled as you felt. Jinyoung sat up at the sound of his name and then his eyes fell on you and they grew wide.

“Y/N?” Jinyoung exclaimed in surprise. You could tell that he hadn’t expected to see you here and you hoped that you hadn’t taken him out of his element too much.

“Hi!” you stated, mentally smacking yourself. Was that the best you could come up with? Jinyoung, however, didn’t seem to mind and gave you a small ‘hi’ while patting the seat next to him for you to sit down. You walked over slowly and sat down, facing out towards the Forbidden Forest before turning to Jinyoung.

“So…um…I just finished my last exam,” you said, staring up conversation. Jinyoung looked over at you with raised eyebrows.

“Transfiguration? Or Herbology?” he asked.

“Transfiguration,” you said. “I think it went pretty well,” you added, to which Jinyoung hummed. There was a moment of silence when suddenly you both spoke at the same time.

“Listen, I – ” “Do you want – ”

You both immediately fell silent and then broke out into small chuckles at the awkward timing.

“You go first,” you said, motioning for Jinyoung to take the lead. He gave you a small smile and then coughed a bit before clearning his throat.

“I was just going to say…I’ve always really liked you, Y/N. Ever since we first met I think I liked you. I think you’re beautiful and smart…And I know you said no before, but…now that you’re done with exams and don’t have anything else left…do you want to go to Hogsmade with me?” Jinyoung asked, glancing up at you hopefully. You could tell that he was a bit nervous, but that only made your grin become bigger.

“Of course I’ll go out with you Jinyoung,” you said, nodding and biting your lip as you smiled. Jinyoung looked up to you with big eyes and a grin plastered on his face.

“Really?” Jinyoung asked, genuinely wanting to know if you actually felt the same way or if you were just taking pity on him.

“Yes! I always kind of liked you too. And for the record, I wanted to go out when you first asked me! I just had a lot on my mind and the timing was wrong and…it was just…hard,” you stated, your thoughts still a bit scrambled from the exam you had just taken.

“That’s okay, you’re allowed to be stressed sometimes,” Jinyoung said, turning to face you. “Just not this weekend,” he added, making you laugh lightly.

“Deal,” you said, nodding and smiling. “So…this Saturday? 7 o’clock?” you asked. Jinyoung nodded and shot you another smile that made you knees weak.

“I’ll meet you at the Three Broomsticks.”

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