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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife?

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet.

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh.

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?”

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.”

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.”

“Yeah, I guess, er--”

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?”

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother.

“We are getting married,” he says plainly.

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.”

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help!

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.”

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe.

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother?

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.”

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?”

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.”

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?”

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight.

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.”

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.”

“Oh,” you babble.

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.”

“Not many,” you mutter.

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?”

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.”

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles.

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different.

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you.

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--”

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.”

“Why ever not?” She asks.

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.”

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.”

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes.

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.”

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient.

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.”

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into?

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go.

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue.

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull.

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment.

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile.

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.”

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.”

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?”

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.”

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside.

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine.

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union.

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family.

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.”

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you.

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure.

“You did a good job,” he says.

“What?”

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.”

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.”

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.”

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug.

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?”

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers.

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.”

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite.

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.”

You dip your head. He sees right through you.

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle.

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.”

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees.

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.”

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle.

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.”

“No?”

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones.

“But I...”

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.”

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.”

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee.

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are.

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.”

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about?

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.”

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly.

He breaks character again, “say no.”

“What?”

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.”

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?”

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?”

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.”

“But I said so--”

“Oh, um, okay--”

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.”

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again.

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?”

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly.

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly.

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.”

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...”

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

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atamascolily · 2 months ago

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Walpurgis no Kaiten Trailer #2 Breakdown

Aniplex dropped a 35-second trailer with new footage from Walpurgis no Kaiten, so let's take a look and see what we got!

Homura falls backwards in a stained glass cylinder that contains a spiraling staircase (we'll see the whole thing in a later shot). Note that this is the doppelganger because of her headband, and that the glass has Homura's distinctive diamond sigil on it, among other things.

We finally get our dance scene--not a pas de deux, but a waltz! Headband!Homura spins Madoka around, leading the action, and she appears to have taken Madoka by surprise. Note that waltzes also involve going in a circle.

I've talked before about how the doppelganger appears to be courting Madoka in the first trailer and how I think a Swan Lake-style "choice" might be forthcoming, so add this to the evidence pile. Madoka's voice over, "I will go with hope," also seems to suggest a choice.

I'm not sure where this is located, but I think it might be Madoka's house? A house, anyway. There are photos on the walls and chairs.

Doppelganger Homura is down so bad, y'all. And can you blame her? Also NOTE HER EYE COLOR HERE, HER EYES ARE RED, not brown (key visual) or purple (original Homura). Eyes are the window to the soul...

(Red eyes automatically make me think "Incubator", but I'm withholding judgement on that until we get more info.)

HELLO VISUAL METAPHOR!! Okay, so first off, we have a fan spinning in a circle, a cross-quartered circle with a closed eye at the center (!!!) surrounded by taped cardboard holding together a box marked with the emblems of "fragile, handle with care". I feel like that one speaks for itself.

(What do you want to bet that that eye opens.... EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD IS SPYING ON YOU.)

Continuing the eye focus, here's a close-up on one of the Clara Dolls holding up a magnifying glass to enlarge their own eye. This is Ibari (Pride). Note the yellow flowers around the lower part of the glass and that Ibari's eyelash is similar in size and shape to the one on the box fan in the previous shot.

My guess is that the Clara Doll's role in this story is primarily as a group/decoration/background element rather than full characters in their own right (the chorus witnessing the action in a theater production, as it were), but I love how this shot turned out and would be happy to see more like this.

Doppelganger Homura (?) examines her reflection in a compact mirror. She has the headband, but her eyes are purple here, like the original. I think she's adjusting her appearance here--literally, if she can shapeshift--to match the original, especially since she's also missing the dark collar that characterized the doppelganger in the key visual. Note sure what is going on with her headband when I look more closely--it seems to stick out from one side of her head and doesn't lie flat??

The scallop shape and the "Dummee Venus" inscription are a little too on the nose in my opinion... Venus being the goddess of love and beauty who was born out of seafoam on a scallop shell. [Is there a Botticelli reference in the house? TBD!!]

I suppose this could be the original Homura here, but the context makes more sense for the doppelganger. Again, note the round/circle, and mirror imagery and focus on the eyes.

EDIT: I was wrong, "Dumme" is German for "fool", not a misspelling of the English "dummy", so this could be the original Homura after all. Although Walpurgisnacht is also a fool, so... I guess we'll see with more context, but I'm leaning towards Original Flavor Homura for now.

View of the spiral staircase from above... a circle combined with a straight line makes a spiral. Note that the surrounding glass has Walpurgisnacht's signature motif of "peacock tails", suggesting a connection between the doppelganger Homura and Walpurgisnacht, and that Walpurgisnacht herself appears as a circle on radar.

The staircase abruptly cutting off and going nowhere also seems like a metaphor, huh.

Balloons going free, compare to a similar shot in Rebellion where they are trapped in a glass dome where Kyouko and Homura have lunch (more on this in a bit). Boundaries and prisons are breaking down, magical girls/witches cannot be contained any longer.

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" Devil Homura is torn down and overthrown. Interesting that one stocking is red-striped (or is that a ribbon wrapped around her from someone else) and the other is pure white--but with a black bow around the ankle.

Madoka enjoys a nice date with...??

(Note: this shot is in a different place from the one that immediately follows; I believe the two are deliberately juxtaposed to be misleading. More on this in a bit.)

God, I love this shot. Half a glass (glass half full, even) with their surroundings in miniature, and the glass is cracked and held together by threads of gold (kintsugi). The ring makes her a magical girl, the outfit is a Mitakihara middle school uniform, and her hair is green, so this is someone new.

also the diamond-shaped placemats juxtaposed with the circular saucer.

Hi, new character!! I have so many questions, but it looks like they really are in a teacup, or at least a different teacup--the old glass dome from Rebellion (or someplace similar) is full of trees and also flooded and now home to water lilies and lily pads.

Nagisa is spending quality time in the ball pit (insert DashCon meme here). And so is this new girl... my guess is human!Charlotte, but I don't have any evidence about that besides vibes and the way these two shots mirror each other.

I love this shot so much! Not sure what's going on, but there's Sayaka in her magical girl costume at the bottom.

Based on the similar backgrounds in these two shots, Madoka is either having tea with Mami or tea with someone else in the same space. Cake and dessert and birthday themes, a la Charlotte's labyrinth.

Feather pillows exploding on a modernist couch.

Kyouko on a pillar/table eating a piece of cake. Cranes and cityscape in the background at night.

Runes and the pages of a book. Witches coming out of a book? Or... something else? (see below)

Flash shot of Sayaka bandaged in a theater.

And here's Kyubey! On the shoulder of the pigtailed girl last seen with Nagisa, wearing the dark collar of the evil!/mirrorverse Mitakihara Middle School like the doppelganger in the key visual. Her eyes are hidden by her bangs and she's smiling. Piloe of books/records (alternate universes, if Magia Record imagery is anything to go by).

Whatever's happening, Kyubey is so in on it, lol.

The salamander representing Homura's dark orb (powers) is stabbed with some kind of metal, near a tea cup, causing it to disappear and explode. It then transforms into a shackle. That's probably not good.

(Whose arm, though? Homura is the most likely suspect, but we'll see.)

White feathers ascending to heaven, a circular vortex made of clouds and shining light, spinning, spiraling...

One of which is a mixture of black and white. This feels very significant, given my earlier predictions about "confronting one's opposite" and "people are neither nor good nor bad but a mix a both" being major themes.

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have more thoughts later, but that's my quick off-the-cuff reactions for now!

#puella magi madoka magica #pmmm analysis #walpurgis no kaiten

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nguyenfinity · 7 months ago

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Long post incoming 'cause I really enjoyed making this but timeline project!! Parameters were to show a timeline using pop culture references so I did the life of a neutron star with Madoka Magica (specifically Homura's arc during the main series)!!

For some meta/symbolic/design purposes I inlaid it in a clock :]

This is a 16-inch clock btw, the design itself is like 14 inches-- Stages Nebula: Inception of a star; the gravitational collapse of dust clouds forms its base. Akemi-san's been in the hospital for some time due to a heart condition. She hasn't been to school in quite a while, so I'm sure she'll run into a lot of difficulties. Make sure you all help her out, okay?

Protostar: The protostar spinds rapidly, causing further collapse of the nebula. The star keeps spinning, trying to reach equilibrium between its internal forces and gravity. I-I'm A-Akemi H-Homura... I, uh... I-It's nice to meet all of you. T-Tauri: Energy comes from gravitational forces since the temperature is too low for nuclear fusion. The star enters the main part of its life when it can finally start nuclear fusion and achieves equilibrium. Hey, don't be so nervous. We're classmates, after all. Main Sequence: 90% of the star's life; fusion continuously occurs until hydrogen is depleted, initiating the death of the star. Homura-chan, I'm really glad we became friends. Red Supergiant: The star swells up to a massive size; nuclear fusion can still occur until the star forms an iron core. We can do this together. We'll beat the Walpurgisnacht, just the two of us.

Supernova: As soon as an iron core forms, the star instantly collapses in on itself from the sheer force of gravity. THIS time, instead of her protecting me, I want to become strong enough to protect her!

Research/more design notes below the cut

There were so many directions to take (as you can see, like lifespan of a star would also be very viable for Rinne) but pmmm is so near and dear to my heart that it would've felt criminal not to do it and especially for like. A golden idea, like I think I hit conceptual gold--

It was so hard picking a singular route 'cause there's so many ways a star's life plays out and so many fitting storylines (Godoka for a neutron star, Akumura for black hole, magical girls in general etc) but I also had to take the physical presentation into account 'cause we were allowed to do that however, and Homura's main story arc fit really well because of the time loop and how clocks are. Yeah (and also the symbolic meaning of it being a clock)

There's more symbolism in the specific route I chose being a neutron star because those are the densest object ever, like how Homura repeating that month over and over again kept converging fate onto Madoka worse and worse--

i literally had a presentation with this and I couldn't think of what to say and if i recall anything i'll add it in the replies but MAN this project was so so fun (not the illustration part. i hit major artblock when trying to figure out how to draw it.)

#sana school stuff #madoka magica #pmmm #this actually got done way way back in february but i hadn't posted it until now dgfhjhkjgkh #'cause i wasn't 100% sure of the execution at the time but i worked hard on it so #or how to like. structure the actual post #in the future i'd like to revisit this or make other variations #every neuron in my brain activating when madoka magica #weeeeeeeee #do. do you like how main sequence. where 90% of the star's life. is their friendship and the leadup to walpurgis. i do. i love it

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theotherpacman · 5 months ago

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hi new madoka oneshot idea

it's a few dozen loops in, towards the end of the loop, and homura explains the whole situation to madoka, time travel and all

madoka says "why do you keep turning back time, why would you do that to yourself, why don't you just go"

it's been so many loops and homura is feeling desperate and she thinks, well, either this timeline is going to be erased like all the others so madoka's going to forget this whole conversation, or I'll finally succeed. win/win?

so she just admits "because I'm in love with you"

she tells madoka how she really feels about her. madoka is taken aback and she doesn't really know how to respond

they don't talk about it over the next few days but madoka thinks about it a lot and she thinks that she could love homura, if they had the time... in fact, maybe she's starting to love homura right now

and on the last day, when walpurgisnacht is in the sky, madoka sees that it's the end, and she doesn't want homura to go on thinking that her feelings are unreciprocated,

so she says "kiss me"

homura says "what?"

madoka turns to her and says "I want you to kiss me. please"

homura is terrified, more so than she's been in years of this same month over and over again, but she clumsily does her best to give both of them their first kiss

and madoka thinks to herself and says "yeah. yeah, I love you too, homura. if we ever get out of this -- I wanna be with you"

and then she goes and takes kyubey's contract and fights walpurgisnacht and dies (either walpurgisnacht kills her or she becomes a witch, take your pick)

the next time homura sees madoka, there is no recognition in her eyes, as usual. but it hurts more this time than it has in years and years

#anyway im in pain #madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #madoka kaname #homura akemi #madohomu

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bimoonphases · 2 months ago

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@wolfstarmicrofic September 20 - prompt 20: Centaur [word count 716]

It had been the first thing James had said on the train that September 1st: the now-renown Marauders couldn’t go their whole second year at Hogwarts without setting foot in the Forbidden Forest. So there they were, one cold October night, sneaking through the trees, their wands lighting the path.

“Okay, we’ve seen it, can we go back now?” Peter whispered.

“Come on Pete, where’s your sense of adventure?” James asked.

“In my bed as I should be,” Peter mumbled. “And this path is too narrow.”

“There’s a clearing a bit ahead,” Remus said distractedly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt the stare of his friends and froze. He had missed them so much over that first summer apart he was growing careless around them. No need for them to know the wolf’s nose could detect a place in a forest from miles away. No need for him to lose the only friends he had ever had once they found out he was a monster.

“Remus darling,” James smirked. “Have you been exploring the Forest without us?”

“Of course not, I’m from Wales, I know about forests,” Remus answered quickly. “Come on, let’s go.”

He sat out again, looking away from Sirius who was detailing him with a piercing gaze. And after a couple of minutes, there it was, the beautiful clearing with a glorious view of the starry sky, the moon reflecting itself in the pond. Beautiful, and peaceful and clearly occupied by the figure leaning over the pond.

“It’s a Centaur!” James whispered way too loud.

Remus cringed as the Centaur looked up at them.

“That I am, James Fleamont Potter,” he smiled benevolently.

“You know my name?”

“My people have been blessed with the gifts of Prophecy and Intuition so yes, I know all your names. Mine is Firenze.”

“Like the Italian town?” Sirius blurted out, and Remus cringed even more.

“Who knows, Sirius Orion Black,” Firenze smiled. “Maybe the town is named after me. Both Past and Future are so complicated for you humans after all.”

“So you could tell us our future?” Peter asked.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Remus clamped his hand on Peter’s mouth. “We’ll leave you be, sorry again for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me, Remus John Lupin,” Firenze chuckled, then he turned to Peter. “I am not allowed to tell you your future, Peter Edmund Pettigrew, but I could offer you a sentence to accompany you through life. It may help you, or not, you may never know its significance or realise it too late. Would you like that?”

As the others nodded, Remus shook his head vigorously. However vague, he didn’t want any sentence telling him how shitty his life would be.

“Sirius Orion Black,” Firenze fixed his gaze on Sirius. “Remember that the Walpurgisnacht won’t devour the heart in the end, nor will it engulf the light.”

Sirius shivered, his hand reaching out to clutch Remus’s as the Centaur turned to Peter.

“Peter Edmund Pettigrew. Remember that fear can save as well as destroy, as the tiniest animal like the termite can destroy a whole wooden house.”

Peter frowned and Firenze turned to James, who was almost bouncing with excitement.

“James Fleamont Potter. Always remember to get up with your hands full,” the Centaur seemed to linger on James’s confused face, then gracefully inclined his head. “And now I shall bid you good night, young humans.”

As Remus made to follow his friends away from the clearing, he turned around one last time to look back at the Centaur.

“Remus John Lupin,” Firenze smiled.

“I don’t want to know my future.”

“I know. I just want you to know you will always be welcome under these trees, despite what you think.”

Remus swallowed, looking deep into those clear eyes.

“You… You know?” his voice was strangled.

“We always know our own. You have found some good friends, Remus John Lupin, cherish them. And remember that even now, the star always needs the moon.”

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Remus nodded and ran after the others. When he had caught up with them, Sirius slid his hand in his again.

“You were limping the other day, I don’t want you to fall,” he said.

“Thank you,” Remus answered, his heart beating faster.

#I changed like three times Peter's middle name because WE STILL HAVEN'T GIVEN HIM ONE #yes I'm aware I named him after two kings of Narnia sue me #my other option was Clarence (hello Narnia again) and not even Peter deserves this #I like the idea that years later Firenze saw Harry and remembered his father #also second year wolfstar already falling for each other they're so cute #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #marauders #marauders era #james potter #peter pettigrew #forbidden forest #the marauders #the marauders era

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dreamerwitches · 1 year ago

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It's the----- updated Madoka iceberg yaaay!

I'll only be discussing the additions on this one (in green) so please check out the old one for the original descriptions

Content warning fooooor: fetishes, child abuse, artists being perverted about children, suicide, death and organ trafficking. This is gonna be fun, huh

Let's goooo!

Sky:

Mami forever alone: A bit of a joke/observation in the fandom. The popular pairings are Madoka and Homura, and Sayaka and Kyoko, often leading to Mami being alone which sadly suits her character... This is jokingly noticed in fanart and manga with Mami often being left out. Sadly it's also led to some darker pairings for her such as Kyubey, Nagisa and even the witch kissed woman from episode 2.

Witches speak: Although witches are often silent or cry out like monsters. Two are known to have spoken. Elly speaks in reverse in episode 4 saying 'I really had fun today, I want to do it again. Next time, I'll bring a bentou'. Izabel also speaks in episode 10 to lure Homura into her labyrinth. However it is completely unconfirmed that the witches are actually speaking and it may even be their familiars. Mildly related, Oktavia's scream from episode 9 is actually a distorted scream from Sayaka.

Walpurgisnacht festival: Walpurgisnacht's name comes from the real world European festival of the same name, or Walpurgis night, that lands on the 30th of April or the 1st of May. Some people theorise that Walpurgisnacht actually arrives in Mitakihara on one of these days.

Walpurgisnacht rising: The sequel film to Rebellion announced on April 25th, 2021... very little was first shown and not a sausage has been revealed since... v-v

Madoka Magica Cafe: A temporary cafe set up around the release of the original anime in 2011. It offered special drinks and desserts as well as Madoka merch. It was extremely popular with waits of over 2 hours on opening day. A few more were held in Japan and Taipei.

Tip:

Magia Record Anime ver. Units: Very controversial variant units from the Magia Record game. These units were criticised as lazy copies of existing characters. With either very minor differences to talk sprites or none at all, ugly battle sprites and lazy transformation animations ripped straight from the anime. These units were not received well with one of the only good aspects being the beautiful card art.

Juubey: The Kyubey for the Pleides Saints in Kazumi Magica. Spoilers for the manga. He was an altered Kyubey that served the girls and purified their Soul Gems without need for Grief Seeds. After learning the truth about witches, the girls killed Kyubey and turned them into a Dependent-Version Incubator with the nickname Juubey and blocked out Kyubey's influence on the city. Yeah, it's complicated XD

Covid delivery girls: The dual unit Tsuruno Felicia Delivery Girls features face masks in their transformation and Magia sprite because the Covid pandemic was occuring when the unit was released.

Ebony: Ebony was the third Puella Historia unit released in Magia Record being a girl from ancient Egypt. She is heavily criticised in the western fandom for not only having a terribly revealing and historically inaccurate outfit but for also being white. However, like Cleopatra, she could be Greek therefore her skin tone would be correct. This however does not excuse her poor design overall On a similar note, how Cleopatra appears in Magia Record is incorrect as she is tanned in-game but has been confirmed by historians to have been white.

Cancelled figures: What is says on the tin! Merchandise that was cancelled including a scale figure of Nagisa and figures of Yachiyo and Tsuruno in their casual clothes and uniform respectively (possibly prize figures). Some that are in a terrible limbo include the 1/8 scale Holy Mami figure, Figuarts mini of Mami, Sayaka and Kyoko and a 1/7 scale figure of Madoka in the style of Aoki Ume's art.

Rebellion was just fanservice: My, my, a controversial one! Some people speculate that the sequel movie, Rebellion, was merely made for fanservice and money. This can be argued with the finite feeling to the anime's ending as well as the many tropes seen in the movie. It shows all the girls fighting happily together (a thing wanted by many fans), ties up loose ends with Sayaka and Kyoko and adds a fan favourite witch, Charlotte, into the main cast. I like to think this isn't the case but you can decide this yourself.

Masara Kokoro Bride ver. A recent variant for Masara and Kokoro where Masara is in a wedding dress and Kokoro is in a tuxedo. Their description is that they're modelling for wedding photos but the gay theming is too overpowering for it to be simply platonic. The less than subtle hints at romance between two girls is a change for the series that loves to be ambiguous. The unit was very well received.

Kyubey and Charlotte scooters: A unique piece of merchandise are scooters by Brain Police that feature decals of Kyubey and Charlotte. You can get yourself one for the low low price of 134,400 yen (£750). These are certainly unique, but quite a funny piece of merch

Lesbian Rika: Rika from Magia Record is the only magical girl canonically who has been in love with another girl (don't get the pitchforks, SPECIFICALLY confirmed). Her wish was for her childhood friend to fall in love with her instead of the boy she liked which does work yet Rika realises it doesn't feel right and breaks up with her.

Shallows:

Trans Ria: Ria is a magical girl from Magia Record, her wish was 'Turn me into a naturally beautiful girl'. This has led fans to believe that her wish was for her to transition from male to female. This can also be seen with her doppel Heide Jekyll that transforms from a dumpy blob in a rectangle to a feminine figure with a circle. Her witch's name also comes from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde which is not only a male character but they were also known for transforming into an alter ego or a different person.

Devil Homura in Magia Record: A total tease. Fans have been wanting Devil Homura as a unit in Magia Record since its very beginning however she still hasn't come. To add salt to the wound, the Magia Report version of her, Devil Homura-chan was added on April Fools 2022. It's speculated she may be released on Magia Day but she's still not here...

Alina Eve's name: Alina Eve is a witch fusion of Alina, her doppel and Shitori Egumo who debuted in episode 25 of the Magia Record anime. In the anime, her name appeared in Runes as 'Neo Dorothy Motherfucker'. This links to her use of curses and her doppel's name, Old Dorothy. However, when her profile was revealed on the official twitter she was named Alina Eve and in-game she is called Neo Dorothy. The reason for the change and discrepancy is unknown but it may be because they didn't want to use swear words in media outside the anime.

Swimsuit Madoka's transformation: An infamous one. When Madoka got her swimsuit unit her transformation was the first (and only so far) to use the live2D models instead of traditional animation. This was not well received and was a disappointment for one of the main character's units. The reason may have been time constraints but fans were not pleased.

Mami is Walpurgisnacht: Forgive me, it's a little clickbait-y..! The reason is..! Mami's voice actress, Kaori Mizuhashi also voiced Walpurgisnacht in the anime. She also voiced Tatsuya, Madoka's little brother.

Fetishes: Oh dear... we're getting here... Two magical girls have clear fetishes. Yukika gets pleasure from dangerous situations while Miyuri has a foot fetish that is probably played off for laughs... It is NOT okay to give child characters fetishes, okay? Fetishes are a sexual thing. Next.

Dub bloopers: Bloopers for the English dub of the anime were released at Otakon 2012 (can be found on Youtube). It certainly feels like 2010s humour but it's still a little funny. Also great if you wanna hear some of the girls swear.

Iroha x Yachiyo: Ugh. It is very clear from Magia Record media that Iroha and Yachiyo are played off very similarly to Madoka and Homura. While the pairing of Madoka and Homura is perfectly fine as they're both children, Iroha and Yachiyo are not. Yachiyo is an adult and Iroha is a child. The anime, merchandise, and the unit of them together rub salt into this wound as dual units are mostly seen as ship units by fans. It's disgusting and not okay.

Yuma's abuse: Yuma is an abuse victim in Oriko Magica. (cw description of child abuse) Her father is absent (either neglectful or has left) and her mother, Mako, would beat and burn her with cigarettes as well as kick her out of the house for long periods of time. Her parents are killed in the original manga and she is taken in by Kyoko because of her similarity to her late sister Momo. In Extra Story she never contracts and is living happily with her grandparents.

Deep Waters:

Gan: Ugh again. Gan is the artist behind Suzune Magica (probably the least liked spin off lol) who is infamous for their clear lack of restraint in making children sexualised. Arisa has an outfit with circles right where her nipples are, Chisato has an outfit with a strip of fabric for a skirt and she is canonically uncomfortable with it and they love giving older characters enormous (and unrealistic) breasts. The art they draw of their UNDERAGE characters is always sexual and borderline pornographic and. Not. Okay. (even told by Magireco staff to tone down their puella historia character, haha fuck you)

Takashi Tensugi The illustrator for Kazumi Magica. Their disgusting taste is evident in the character design for the protagonists as well as sexual and revealing shots in the manga but I've also heard that they've drawn hentai before. No I'm not going to fucking look for that thank you. But... another bad egg in the spin off manga series... Not okay

Masugitsune ANOTHER BAD EGG! One of the illustrators for Tart Magica and also the illustrator for Yukika (you can tell where this is going). Sexualises minors, just like every madoka spin-off artist seems to... Has drawn Yukika in revealing swimsuits and bunny costumes as well as the rest of the Tart cast. Remember, they're all children----! NOT OKAY!

Riz's former companions names Omg thank god we're past the nonce section... Riz had unnamed magical girl companions in Tart Magica that have been slowly named by their artist. Their names are... pretty shit honestly as they're just named after their weapons. They are Machete, Frusta and Falce with one being still unnamed.

Kuroe was a marketing stunt: Not confirmed of course but... Kuroe was introduced at the very beginning of the Magia Record anime with her being the only new character. She disappeared for the rest of the series until the very end with a very lacklustre and ineffective ending. One could imagine that her inclusion and focus was to grip watchers into continuing with an otherwise pretty underwhelming series. But... take it how you wish...

Livia's backstory: Hey, this isn't new! I hear you say! Well, it's not new, but it's changed! The original iceberg said that her backstory may have been linked to a miscarriage but NOPE its worse! She was actually almost a victim of organ trafficking when she was a child. And later in life, she watched one of her friends die on her wedding day as she was run over by a tractor that she caused to malfunction...

Himena and Hiko: Himena's wish was for her boyfriend to be with her within her. After... her boyfriend committed suicide yaaayyy! (sarcasm) The end of this iceberg isn't very nice, is it? Her boyfriend didn't want to come back and now he's stuck with her forever.

Well... that's it! Sorry it became a bit of a bummer at the end...

Have a plushy Charlotte for making it to the end! Yay!

#madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #magia record

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kiwisandpearls · 3 months ago

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expanding on the tags in my last post, i actually think that if you were to write kyubey as being a straight up liar and twisting the wishes so that the magical girl technically gets what she wants but it’s far from the original intent of the wish, then your writing him (kinda) wrong.

yes, kyubey is a manipulative bastard who hides the dark truth of magical girls, and makes being one much less bad than it actually is. But to write kyubey as a straight up liar, your incidentally missing something very vital about when kyubey asks a girl for a contract.

he does it when they’re in a very vulnerable situation.

he asks Kyoko for a contract when her and her family were struggling financially and often couldn’t afford food, he asks Mami for a contract right after her family dies from a car crash leaving her as the only survivor who would’ve died had kyubey not arrived, in the original timeline he asks madoka for a contract when Amy (the black cat in the OP) gets injured, in the original timeline, he asks Homura for contract after Madoka dies by fighting Walpurgisnacht. The only one he doesn’t go to is Sayaka, because there wasn’t exactly a singular super vulnerable moment in her life he could take advantage of. If anything, Sayaka came to him (which isn’t me blaming her btw).

which is why he shouldn’t be written to be a liar or twist any of the magical girl’s wishes. Because he doesn’t need to.

the girls he asks a contract from are already in vulnerable situations and aren’t going to and/or don’t have time to think through making a contract and ask kyubey any questions. All they know is, this little white cat found me, told me he could make a wish, and wish = my problems going away, I need to make a wish. (Again, not me blaming any of the magical girls)

which is why kyubey doesn’t go to girls who aren’t in vulnerable situations. He only constantly asked Madoka in the last timeline to make a contract because she had a lot of karmic energy and that just wouldn’t be an opportunity he could pass down, and even with madoka you could argue he went to her when she was vulnerable, such as when she was worrying over Sayaka.

like this feels more an analysis of him but still, this just explains why to me, there’s no purpose in writing kyubey as being a liar who twists these girls wishes, he does that on his own, by going to these vulnerable girls when their most likely to mess up their words and not ask questions.

#talk away ⌞🍵🍋 ⌝#kyubey #kyubey pmmm #kyubey madoka magica #madoka magica spoilers #madoka magica #pmmm #pmmm spoilers #kyubey analysis #madoka magica analysis #analysis #me writing a whole ass essay about how kyubey being written as a liar who twists wishes #misses a major point of his character (i try to tell myself I’m not a kyubey fan)

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dinoplantsghost · 2 months ago

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pairing: Tom Riddle x fem! original character

warning(s): tom is a warning in itself, 1940s: time-accurate prejudice, one or two racist comment(s) and mention of n@z!s, teenage behavior: drama and language, mention of Walpurgisnacht and Christianity, there's probably more but idk

word count: ~4515

Disclaimer: I have a huge google doc that holds all of my drafts and I'm quite literally just copypasting everything, so if there are any typos/errors, no there isn't!! :)

-- okay now this one kind of eats, I just skimmed through it and I lowkey forgot I wrote this

Chapter List

The Knights of Walpurgis [7]

13:15 - Wednesday 18th

Tracy had bumped into Saoirse during their shared free period before lunch, his lips not in their usual smile when he dragged her off campus to a bench near the Black Lake.

He was concerned about his friends—or ‘their’ friends, as he had phrased it. For once, Saoirse understood what it was like to “be in the know” and be part of a unit of people.

“I tried talking to Ava,” he sighed. “But she gets all emotional whenever I bring it up; I just want to understand what happened, but I guess I get why she doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe it was bad or something.”

“Griffin was telling me something about it after the first Quidditch match, although very vaguely. He was mostly talking to himself, it seemed like.”

“Really? I’m surprised, considering how much he didn’t like you when I first introduced you to each other.” Tracy leaned back, his brows furrowed as a hand reached up to pinch at his delicate skin. “What did he say?”

Saoirse shrugged. “In all honesty, I wasn’t paying attention; I’m not used to comforting people and he was too busy crying to really say anything interesting or important.”

Despite her insistence that she didn’t remember much, Saoirse went into detail about how Eugene had wept over Ava-Lynn and how she “broke his heart.” She always took the opportunity to talk her mouth off.

Tracy, usually thirsty for drama and all of its wondrous theatrical moments, paused. “Eugene and Ava? Together? I don’t believe it,” he huffed. “Ava’s a great person with strong morals. And I mean, Eugene is my friend and all, but…”

Saoirse shrugged once more. He clearly knew them better than her and yet he was just as confused.

The boy shook his head, his shaggy hair hitting his cheeks as he rubbed his eyelids. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t think Ava would have told me that even if I threatened her; I would be embarrassed too. But also, there’s something else I needed to talk to you about.” Tracy pulled his legs up, sitting tailor-fashioned on the bench, smearing mud and grass on his trousers. “You know we share Defense classes, right,” he asked. “Because I’ve seen you hanging out with those guys lately—the ones from Slytherin. If you were smarter, you’d stop talking to them.”

Saoirse frowned. “That’s exactly what Patrick said about you and Griffin the other day. He said any friend of Griffin’s isn’t good.”

“Well, that nerd is a hypocrite,” he scoffed. “Every one of his friends, including him, is a no good, snotty, rich boy raised on outdated ideals. They’re no better than the Nazis we hear about from the Muggle war.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that, she thought.

“But Patrick is really nice,” she argued. “He told me that he hates the Sacred Twenty-Eight; he wants nothing more than to be on his own when he finishes school.”

“He’s obviously lying. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.”

“What do you mean? What apple?”

“Nevermind,” he groaned. Tracy stood from the bench, doing nothing to wipe off the grim from his uniform. “Forget what I said; it’s an idiom you don’t get yet. But either way, don’t come running to me when that group decides to throw you to the side, Saoirse.”

It was not until lunchtime did Tracy try to talk to Saoirse again. After their conversation at the bench, the boy left in frustration since she did not understand why he disliked Patick when he had Eugene Griffin as a friend. In her eyes, he had no right telling her who to be around when that Hufflepuff student was clearly just as bad.

When lunch rolled around, she didn’t entertain his attempts at conversation because she was too busy scratching at arithmancy work that was due within the next hour or so. Saoirse wasn’t horrible at mathematics, per se; it’s the way symbols and numbers danced around on the tree pulp that annoyed her. Mahoutokoro had a different way of calculating things, and Arithmancy was completely separate from what she was formally taught from a young age. Saoirse still had a hard time handling a quill, and her handwriting needed to be small so each equation could fit nicely on the same page. Her eyes also strained if she looked at her work for too long, which is one of many reasons she was currently sitting at the Ravenclaw lunch table alone, her back curled over as she scribbled away slowly. With each snag her quill hit on the parchment and each ink bubble that burst and melted into her skin, she felt closer to committing another murder. Maybe it would be better if it was her that was dying this time around.

Luckily, she was able to finish the assignment in time. Arithmancy class always went by faster than her brain processing every little thing she wrote. By the time she was out of the classroom and following her peers down the hall like a school of fish, her thumb had difficulty flexing and stretching out her fingers did not get rid of the tense feeling in her hand.

As she walked into Merrythought’s classroom, Saoirse pinched the bridge of her nose to numb the throbbing pain in her head as she plopped down next to Patrick, who fortunately recovered just fine after the start of the month.

“Are you alright,” he asked. “You’re pinching your nose again.”

He dug around in his satchel, pulling out a small glass container with clumpy circles of brown. The boy gave one to Saoirse, a thin layer of sugar melting from the warmth of her palm. “My family gets these Godiva treats every time we visit Belgium,” he explained. “We’re not supposed to do this at school, but I infuse the share I get with soothing elixirs I make in my spare time. I have this thing called astigmatism, so I get headaches and migraines often.”

She took a small bite, her front teeth sore from the sweet’s brittleness. “It’s very sweet,” she muttered. “Almost too sweet…”

Patrick blushed, embarrassed that Saoirse didn’t like it. “Oh, well, you don’t have to eat it all! I’m sorry you don’t like it!”

She waved a hand. “No, I will,” she replied. “I’m just not used to it. I like it.”

As the girl took another bite, she was unaware of the smear of crumbs on the corner of her mouth. Without another thought, Patrick cupped her cheek, flicking flecks of almond and caramelized sugar.

Eloise, along with the other Knights, made a noise of discomfort. “Get a room,” he whined. “No one wants to see that, Patrick.”

The Austrian boy froze, pulling his touch away from Saoirse’s cheek dusted in pink and red. “Sorry…”

───────────

The Transfiguration Professor was odd. In her mind, he resembled the many (old as fuck) men she saw in Japan, though he was not nearly as old. He always wore lavender robes, and insisted on speaking in a way that drove her to insanity. Albus Dumbledore, the Head of the Gryffindor House, always spoke softly. He spoke so delicately, in fact, that his breath would slip through the little gap in his front teeth, causing his speech to have a whistle throughout. It sounded like a fork dragging against a porcelain plate, a sound she only recently discovered her first night in the Great Hall.

When Dumbledore asked Saoirse to speak to him during her free time after Defense Against the Dark Arts, she wanted to bang her head against a desk. She had heard stories about him from Merrythought. He had a male lover that he was enemies with, apparently.

“I hope Hogwarts has been to your liking,” the old man said. “I’m sure your former school was very enchanting. I’ve always wanted to visit Mahoutokoro, you see.”

“Hogwarts has been very kind to me, sir, much better than Mahoutokoro.”

“Wonderful! It’s always good to see the positive in every change and shift in life, after all. Now, how are you doing socially? Any friends? Like that Mayfield boy, Tracy.”

“I’m not that close to Mayfield. I would consider him more of an acquaintance; I believe that is the word.”

Dumbledore hummed, his eyes twinkling as he fiddled with his beard. “I see…Are you having trouble finding eagles to group with, dear?”

Saoirse shook her head. “No, sir, I just find myself around Patrick Nott and his group more often.”

The man sighed. He plucked his eyewear from his wobbling nose, wiping the grime off with a smooth cloth. “Saoirse, dear, the reason I have pulled you aside is because I am worried,” he frowned. “And while you are an eagle rather than a lion, it is my duty as an adult and a teacher to make sure every student is doing well. Now, I say this out of the concern from your friend—no, your acquaintance, as you referred to him. Mister Mayfield only wants the best for you, as do I.”

Saoirse’s brows furrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mister Mayfield has told me of the group you surround yourself with, Saoirse, and with my own eyes I can say with a full heart that these boys will give you nothing but trouble.”

He leaned against his desk, clasping his hands as he stared at the Japanese girl with a sorrowful expression. “I fear Saoirse, amongst that group of Slytherins, is a boy who is too dark, too far into his ambitions to be deemed safe. He is dangerous. Any involvement with him will throw you off a path of light and good.”

The girl craned her neck. She was sure her face was stuck with her lip pulling at the corner, her eyes darting around to avoid the old man’s gaze. “Professor,” she laughed. “I can assure you that none of them are ‘dangerous.’ They’re teenage boys that are driven by hormones, food, and sports.”

“No,” Dumbledore argued. “You’re not understanding, Saoirse. Amongst those boys is a tortured soul, one that cannot be healed or fixed by any means. Mister Mayfield came to me in hopes that you would realize the dangers these Slytherins put you in.”

Saoirse crossed her arms, scoffing. Mayfield was hardly any character to throw his opinion into her life. “With all due respect sir, I barely know Mayfield and he barely knows those boys. Patrick and his friends are nothing but dumb airheads, especially that Riddle kid; he drives me insane.”

“In what way?”

“That boy needs to be humbled,” she sighed. “He’s brash. He thinks he has this authority over everyone. He’s really not all that.”

“Would you care to elaborate,” Dumbledore pushed. “While Tom is destined for greatness, that is for sure, the boy is very troubled.”

The girl was silent, her jaw tensing in thought. “I’m sorry, sir,” she drawled. “I hardly think it’s my place to speak of Riddle’s issues, especially when I couldn’t care any less.” Saoirse stood from her chair, letting the legs scratch against the wooden floor of the man’s office. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’d like to enjoy my free time before History of Magic.”

Ignoring Dumbledore’s demanding gaze, Saoirse’s legs took a stride out of his office and away from his classroom. She glided through each hallway, twisting and turning each corner as her mind honed in on the plans forming in her head.

She had every reason to stick by those boys in green, to keep an eye on that sick fuck who took his “friends” for granted. It wasn’t hard to see how the others were strangled around his finger. Considering Rosier’s speech the night she was informed of their little club, it only confirmed the rumors she had heard, most of them from Mayfield. And while she never had friends before, it wasn’t rocket science to have basic human decency.

But she was curious, so fucking curious as to why Riddle seemed to have put it upon himself to carry the burdens of an entire aristocratic group of blue bloods. According to Patrick, Riddle was never a name within the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was a nobody, to put it simply. Yet somehow, by some miracle, he was at the center of some of Europe’s powerful heirs of their generation.

There was darkness in the boy; that was something she could agree on with Dumbledore. During her spar in Merrythought’s classroom, Riddle was cold and calculated, but he was easily aggravated—”trigger happy” is what Patrick called it. Riddle gets jealous whenever the spotlight trails off him, causing a controlled temper tantrum of sorts in order to regain his title as the model student.

It didn’t take long for her feet to drag all the way to the Slytherin dungeons. The password slipped past her lips, and she ignored the harsh stares from those in green as she looked for the familiar door with the number ‘13’ on it.

The door swung open, Miles Lestrange leaning against the frame with crossed arms. “If you’re looking for your boyfriend, he isn’t here,” he smirked. “Patrick’s in the library, as usual.”

“I’m not looking for Patrick, I’m looking for Riddle. What’s his door number?”

Lestrange curled a brow in interest, pushing himself off the door frame as he mused, “Oh? You’re already bored of Florian? How rude of you, Saoirse.”

“Florian?”

“Yeah, that’s Patrick’s middle name.” He ran a hand through his curls. “Anyways, why do you need Tom?”

“I just need to talk to him,” she frowned.

Miles sighed, “His door number is seven; he rooms with ‘Brax, Louis, and Cass’.”

With a small thanks, Saoirse retraced her steps, eyes dancing to the bold, black number on teak wood. The girl did not have many hopes of speaking to the boy today, but when she rapped her knuckles on the door, it was quick to snap open and make her jump out of her skin.

It was odd to see Riddle in simpler clothing. He didn’t have his robe on, nor his gray sweater vest. Instead, he only wore the Oxford shirt all students were required to wear, along with his green and silver tie that hung loose under his collar. He did not speak, expecting Saoirse to have words roll off her tongue with ease, only to realize her eyebrows were crumpled up as she gathered her English.

“I don’t have all day, you know,” he uttered, a breath of annoyance flushing past his nostrils. “Midterms are coming up; you should be studying instead of wandering off.”

When the girl stayed silent, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Before he could slam the door, however, she spoke:

“Let me join that stupid club of yours, Riddle.”

Tom froze, the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing as he turned on the ball of his foot. “Whatever Nott told you is none of your business.”

“It became my business when you beat up the poor boy for rightfully spending his free time with whomever he chooses. Besides, he was following your dumb orders regardless.”

Tom yanked Saoirse by her collar, throwing her inside the vacant dorm. The door finally slammed shut, the flame from the fireplace flickering against his high cheekbones and set jaw.

“What did those idiots tell you,” he demanded through clenched teeth. It didn’t take long for the distance between the teens to close, Tom’s long legs taking strides to push Saoirse against the beam of Cassius’ four-poster bed.

“They told me everything.”

“Really, everything?”

“Everything they wanted to tell me before Orion demanded that I get some sleep.”

Saoirse hated how tall the boy was. People were rarely his height in Mahoutokoro, but it seemed like European genetics had these boys shooting for the stars. Through her lashes and frames, she could see how flared his nose was, how his lip was in permanent disgust at the thought of her being in his presence.

Hesitant, Saoirse forced her tongue away from her inner cheek as she spoke, “Dumbledore spoke to me a while back…He seemed weirdly obsessed with you. I just wanted to know why.”

Apparently, the mere mention of the man was enough to set the boy off. His eyes flashed with anger, perhaps even fear, but it was difficult to tell when Tom distanced himself from the girl to pace around the middle of the room.

“What,” she smirked. “Do you have a secret affair with him or something? Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen such a—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he hissed. He turned to face her, a finger pointed in her direction as he pressed, “What did he say to you?”

“I may or may not have spoken of you in a negative light,” she shrugged. “Dumbledore was trying to ask what I knew of you, which isn’t much.”

Saoirse sighed, taking off her frames to rub her tired eyes. She sat down on Mulciber’s bed, letting her legs hang from the side as she laid down on his unmade sheets. “Whatever you’re trying to do with the Chamber of Secrets, It’s obvious that he knows.” She ignored the noise that came from his throat. “Senile men are a lot smarter than people would like to think; more deceitful as well.”

She was met with silence, with the occasional crackling from the logs under the fire.

“I don’t see the point in you being a Knight,” Tom said. “You’re only doing this for Nott.”

“So,” she questioned. “You would be getting more out of your posse if I joined, regardless of my reasons. You would make a pretty shitty cult leader if you didn’t take advantage of your members, you know.”

“And what makes you think the Knights of Walpurgis isn’t already a cult?”

The ashes under the flame fluttered, logs crumbling further down in prolonged silence.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

TR~S

Saoirse did not know what to expect when she followed three boys in the middle of the night. After Astronomy class, Tom guided her, along with Patrick and Mulciber, up the castle. She never really got used to the moving stairs, but by the time they made it to the seventh floor, Saoirse’s head was already spinning and her hands clung onto Nott’s arm.

The four of them moved quickly, footsteps light against the limestone flooring. Corner after corner, corridor after corridor, the teens finally stopped in the middle of a fork. Tom, the self-appointed line leader, walked up to the towering wall in front of them before pacing back and forth. Soon, the floor received residual shocks as the wall shook and split in the middle to open up.

Patrick nudged Saoirse along, shutting her slack jaw with a forefinger. “You’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, Schatzi.”

Seeing the girl in awe of one of the many hidden treasures Hogwarts had to offer, Cassius slapped a friendly hand to her back. “You’ll get used to it,” he chuckled. “I remember when we first found the Come-and-Go Room; our buddy Patrick here had the same reaction. You two are cute together, by the way.”

“Don’t say that,” hissed Patrick, his glasses fogged and his ears red. “Saoirse, Cassius doesn’t mean that at all, he’s just joking!”

The foreigner only smiled, amused by how Patrick’s eyebrows always curled whenever he was nervous. She followed the boys inside, craning her neck to inspect the castle’s magical and ever-changing architecture once more. Saoire always loved buildings, especially those built in the period of Gothic architecture. She loved how stained windows had become popular then, and she especially loved the Biblical iconography of the Christian faith, how it drowned cathedrals and other buildings in symbolism.

Saoirse was pulled out of her trance by Patrick again, leading her to an ellipse-shaped table. He pulled out a chair for her before taking a seat next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she witnessed Mulciber attempting to do the same for Rosier, only for his burly hands to be swatted away by his friend.

“Now that everyone is here,” Tom drawled. “Patrick, if you could start the meeting.”

The boy in question nodded, his eyes fierce behind his perched frames. He stood, his chair scraping against the tile before he spoke, “The date is Thursday, November 19th, 1942. The time is 1:29 in the morning. All members are present and accounted for, along with one guest.” He glanced down at Saoirse, who had her eyes set on his figure the entire time. “The Knights of Walpurgis’ second meeting of the fall term is now in session.”

Tom thanked Patrick with a wave of his hand, allowing the boy to sit down before speaking. He stayed standing, opting to pace at the head of the table. “As you can see, men, we have a willing candidate to become our next knight.”

With each word he spoke, Tom held onto the boys’ attention; moths to a raging flame. Their backs were straight, hands in their lap as they kept their heads high and their loyalty even higher. Saoirse had never seen Avery so serious before.

“It has also come to my attention,” Tom mused. “That Dumbledore is attempting to thwart our plans once more. But do not worry; we have gotten past his insistence before.” He gestured a hand to Saoirse, signaling her to rise from her seat. “The girl has been in our presence for long enough, it seems. Saoirse, do you understand what the Knights of Walpurgis stand for?”

She could only shrug. “I have some semblance of a mission, I guess.”

“The origins of our name, the Knight of Walpurgis, comes from the holiday of Walpurgisnacht,” Patrick explained. “Walpurga was a saint long ago, known for battling diseases and witchcraft. She converted many people to Christianity and was sought after for protection against our practices. The holiday lasts from April 30th to May 1st, commemorating her canonization as a saint.

“We reclaimed the meaning of Walpurgisnacht. Just as she protected those from witchcraft and magic, we want to protect those from Muggles and their violent attempts at eliminating our populations. We, the Knights of Walpurgis, want to eliminate non magic folk, just as Muggle have done to us in the past in a similar fashion.”

It made sense, Saoirse thought. However, surely not every Muggle had the same opinions. She turned to Tom, questions pooling in her mind. “So what does this have to do with the Chamber of Secrets?”

“As I’m sure the boys have told you,” he responded. “The Chamber is said to hold the very monster Salazar Slytherin planned to use himself. Our main problem is that the Chamber cannot be located.”

“And you’ve checked everywhere?”

“Yes, we’ve checked the library, asked people in the Sacred Twenty-Eight; there is nothing.”

“Hogwarts: A History has a section on Salazar Slytherin, albeit small. It said that he was a Parselmouth and apparently, only those from his direct bloodline can inherit this ability. Maybe that’s why it can’t be found.”

It was like a lightbulb had gone off—though, lightbulbs were made by Muggles, and electricity barely made sense to the Pureblood heirs. Eloise downed the drink in front of him—presumably alcohol— slamming his glass down to the table in fervor.

“I knew Asians were smart,” he laughed. “But not this smart! It makes so much sense!” Eloise turned to Tom, arms outstretched in excitement. “Tom—sorry, my Lord, you’re a direct descendant of Salazar!”

Saoirse ignored the weird title. Maybe they had a similar hierarchy system here, like Japan.

“Yes, Avery, that’s an amazing observation.” Tom smiled ugly, stopping any laughter from bubbling in Avery’s throat. “Obviously I’ve thought of that, you idiot.”

It made sense now. That’s why Riddle was accepted into the group so easily. But still, as Saoirse picked at the chipped and frayed wood of the table, her mind could not wrap around the fact that the boy’s surname held no importance, no connection to any Pureblood family. Even with that information, it also wasn’t plausible for his status to be anything but Pureblood; his lineage made sure of that.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough,” smiled Miles. “After all, we have until the end of fall term.”

“Which families were closest to Slytherin’s descendants,” Saoirse asked. “Surely there has to be something in an office or study.”

“We’ve tried that,” Abraxas frowned. “We even asked MIles’ mum, who practically knows everyone in Europe. The next family that would be closest would be mine, but I’ve been looking since last summer; my father has nothing.”

Tom spoke, his words carrying hopeful encouragement to his lackeys. “That is why I have decided to bring you tonight, Saoirse. With your foreign knowledge, we could broaden our horizons.”

The girl could only shift in her seat to cross her arms and legs. “You really think Salazar Slytherin brought a creature from Japan all the way to the middle of nowhere in Scotland?” The look in his eyes gave everything away to her; he knew it was a stretch, too. “Look,” she sighed. “Japan really only has spirits and demons. There’s nothing I can think of that would have that much power. Sure, there are yōkai that look like snakes, which seems like something Slytherin would be particular about, but again, like I said; nothing from Japan could have the type of power to kill entire populations.”

“Well, no matter,” he sighed. “It is just as Miles said: we have until the end of the fall term.” Tom waved an arm, prompting the girl to stand up and make her way to his side. “I’m sure you’re tired, Saoirse. It’s not usual to be up this late in the night. Before you leave, though, it is customary for all Knights to be…inducted, if you will. If I could have your left arm, please.”

───────────

“Which one of you thought it was good for the girl to know of our plans?” Tom sighed for the umpteenth time, his stomach churning with disappointment as none of the boys sitting before him could get a word out in full confidence.

“It was Eloise,” Abraxas tensed. “He accidentally told Saoirse about the Chamber, but Orion eventually convinced her to join for Patrick’s sake.”

Surprisingly, Tom did not blow up towards Avery’s mistake. “Orion, good job,” he mused. “This is very pleasant to hear. I’m glad to know that at least one of you knows how to seize an opportunity, the behavior of a true Slytherin.”

It was very rare for Tom to throw compliments. If he praised you, then he was just a smidge happy; if he was happy, then there was a lesser chance of him being mad. No one liked when he was mad. If you could gain Tom’s acknowledgement, you were given the highest doses of immunity one could obtain.

In the eyes of his followers, gaining merciful immunity was the ultimate goal, even if it meant sabotaging those closest to you.

Credit(s): Dividing banner (^^^) by Chen Lu (1436 - 1449) - "Plum Blossoms in Moonlight" scroll painting; sourced through Pinterest

#tom riddle #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #fanfiction #decade: 1940s #1940s #wattpad #knights of walpurgis #dinoyaps

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burnorgetburned · 2 years ago

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recent image reminded me again of something I noticed from Rebellion: how isolated Homura is.

This is her own fantasy world. It’s what she, in her deepest heart and dying moment, wants the most. Here she can make herself into the version that she wants to be: she can be Madoka’s best friend! The senior magical girl! The wise mentor figure that everyone finally listens to!

Homura can’t imagine herself being that, though.

Instead, she makes herself the transfer student - again. An outsider. The girls are already an experienced, established team by the time she even “arrives” in Mitakihara. They kindly invite this new magical girl into it. And she’s not the centerpiece of the team. She’s an extra power, useful to the other girls, but easily excluded if they feel like it.

That’s not the only time she secludes herself from them too. In the opening I can recall her doing this three times: once in that scene where it starts with Madoka and then adds the other girls, and they run around each other in dresses. She’s there standing at the end, waiting for all of them. The screen cuts away before any of them reach her in a way it doesn’t for the other girls, even though they do start to try and greet her. And then again while they’re all dancing and she’s kneeling on the ground.

Finally, there’s that long shot starting with the water and the drowned buildings, presumably from Walpurgisnacht. Mami and Sayaka are in a boat, and they smile at the “camera”. The camera rushes through them, and Kyoko turns around and smiles at the camera too. And, of course, it ends at Madoka, who reaches her hand towards the camera with a kind expression on her face.

We immediately cut to Madoka and Homura standing in an empty space, and it becomes apparent that Homura is the “camera”, not pausing to look at her friends smiling at her, but stopping to try and take Madoka’s hand. Only for Madoka to turn into dust. Because the person who is most kind to her, who again and again chooses to trust and care about her as we see in the series no matter how she acts - she’s not there anymore. She’s as good as dead. The other girls are kind, but they don’t reach out to her the same way Madoka does.

This is of course not their fault, because god knows their lives get harsh, but it doesn’t change the fact that Homura is just. Too traumatized and socially maladjusted to reach out first. Madoka gets through to her so easily because Madoka tries to see the best in her, so she gets past Homura’s awkward hairflips of anxiety that look really freaking arrogant to people who can’t read her and don’t have the motivation to try. She gets past Homura trying to use intimidation and Homura going quiet because she doesn’t know what to say, which, again, makes her look inscrutable and. just bad.

In the end of Rebellion, we see her going full throttle on the exclude herself part again. This time, consciously and intentionally. We see Mami walking to school, and Homura shattering a teacup. We see Kyoko try to share an apple with her Clara Dolls, and the apple dropping into the water, wasted. What do Mami and Kyoko use to befriend people in the series? Tea parties and sharing food. Homura has surely befriended/been befriended by those two plenty of times, since we see her achieve it with Kyoko and know immediately that she should eat the pocky given to her. So this is her, consciously, rejecting their friendship.

What hurts even more is the part with Kyoko. Why does Kyoko drop the apple? She sees the Clara Dolls waving at her, asking for one. Parts of Homura’s subconscious, asking for resources. She smiles and gives one over. Even before this, Kyoko was feeding some of Homura’s bird Familiars. When she drops the apple, though, we cut to a clear shot of Homura shaking her head while the apple floats.

The apple drops - into the water. The Clara Dolls are gone. Kyoko looks shocked. She couldn’t even keep feeding Homura’s birds. All of them fly away.

Homura’s subconscious asks for help. Homura sees help and shakes her head, rejecting it. Homura doesn’t let herself ask for help even when she desperately wants it (wanting it so desperately that her Familiars act it out even when she consciously tries to stop them). She’s already learned that asking for help doesn’t result in receiving help. After all, what has trying gotten her in other timelines? Disbelief. Anger. Confusion and hurt. Sometimes she gains allies (like in Kyoko), but most of the time even allies become unreliable. So she’s learned that she doesn’t know how to properly ask for help, and if she gets it, people will turn on her.

In the end, she finally has the power to address the root cause of their distrust. The Incubator, who primed other people to dislike her (something something “maybe she doesn’t want Madoka to contract because she’d be too powerful as a magical girl and she wants this territory :3”) and their resource shortage of the limited Grief Seeds, which made people fight by its own nature and eventually introduced the truth of Witches. But when others try to help her, she can’t accept it because she’s so primed to be afraid of it.

It’s part of the tragedy of Homura Akemi. She didn’t have the tools. She didn’t have the background to make connections without Madoka first reaching out to her in the 1st timeline. She didn’t have the social skills for convincing the other girls of hard truths of magical girl life. She could never make a support system strong enough to stop Mami from killing people in her despair (and I’d argue that even great social skills wouldn’t solve their resource shortage, so the best she could ever do is stop Mami from killing people. We see in other materials that Mami would often kill herself). She relied on Madoka for help with forging connections with other people, and when she got that help, she’d get so attached to everyone that it hurt her badly whenever they died. Whenever they learned the truth and it broke their hearts (she says explicitly that it hurt when Mami learned too much). It also must have hurt whenever she had to reset and then the other girls stopped caring about her.

The really awful part about the magical girl system is that grief - mundane, everyday emotional pain - starts to darken their Soul Gems. So when Homura makes friends and loses them, either to death or the loops, it darkens the Gem. Whenever she may try to learn social skills and inevitably fumbles, and the other girls interpret this as intentional, it also darkens the Gem. When she makes them her enemy. When she tries to drive Madoka away. When she’s isolated by the truth of everything. When Madoka Wishes to help other people - especially her. I would say that she can’t treat any loop as a practice ground because she’s too invested in Madoka, meaning that treating any one loop as disposable means treating that Madoka as disposable too, something that she obviously can’t accept. So she invests her all into every loop and loses, and it damages her even further.

On top of that, there’s a malicious immortal unending alien chucking everyone into deadly situations. There’s other magical girls who occasionally butt in (Oriko…). There’s timeline variance. There’s Walpurgisnacht. It becomes an unending tide of resource management except the resources are souls, friends, and her own emotional wellbeing. The failure state is a fate worse than death. The holding pattern is the endless loops, which does chip damage to her Soul Gem and already abysmal social skills by way of trauma anyway. She learns to keep this at bay by distancing herself. But in doing so, she does long-term damage and makes the other girls distrust her even more.

I honestly think there was no way in hell she was ever going to survive. Either she lost in the loops or she would lose afterwards. There was so, so much stacked against her. She learned all the reasonable ways to survive her loops which are absolutely the wrong things for her long-term health, but how could she think of the long term when the danger is right now? She learns to never rely on people (who by the way are fucking primed to oppose her… another post on that later) and all the wrong lessons for continuing on after the loops. When her crutches for surviving are knocked from under her, she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t freaking ask for a therapist, she’s a magical girl! She can’t rely on Kyoko and Mami when she has no evidence of what she went through! She seemed actually suicidal by the time of Rebellion, and I don’t think that it was her Witch talking. Or the needles puncturing her Soul Gem(?!?! Which more people should talk about? Holy shit).

This is why I genuinely think that both the anime ending and Rebellion’s ending are necessary for Homura’s story. A lot of people seem to think that Rebellion makes the anime ending useless, but I don’t think that at all. First, Witches are gone. This is a big one. Witches are genuinely the most isolating thing in the Incubator’s system, because the girls who know have to step on eggshells around girls who don’t know. Homura keeps this “Witches are gone” thing and only switches the Grief-collection system to using Incubators, which remove two of the many obstacles preventing the Quintet from wanting to help Homura. I doubt that Homura has the omnipresence to respond to every magical girl ever as they turn into a Witch because she is said to use her Familiars for gathering information, and her Familiars can’t be literally everywhere. That’s what Madoka’s Law of Cycles is for, and it’s something that Homura keeps. We also see that it’s possible for people (Madoka and Sayaka) to fully remember all of the timelines, and those shared experiences lead to understanding. Sympathy. Most importantly, less isolation.

If everyone regains all of their memories, could they see what Homura suffered through? Could they convince her that they can help? The resource shortage is gone. Witches are mostly gone. The Rebellion’s system is a system that allows all of them to grow. They stop being so utterly isolated. They can stop hurting each other. They can help.

#pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #homura akemi #pmmm analysis #madoka magica #pmmm rebellion #character analysis #please stop hurting each other please please please #i am once again sobbing about homura akemi #you tried so hard and yet never stood a chance.#i keep thinking about it.#evil. pure evil. kyubey is evil.#i don’t care if it doesn’t really understand. it doesn’t need to.#the sheer isolation that homura must have felt for so long is really killing me.#homura did nothing wrong #or at least #homura tried her best #that is honestly and truly what I believe. god i’m so emotional about her I needed to scream

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kp2brukgaming · 1 year ago

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the moment i found out that unlocking Chronomancer gave u shield proficiency wwww. Are you ready to rewind time over and over and over and over and over again to save your loved one who keeps sacrificing themself and eventually became part of the universe For The Greater Good??! tune in to see how Commura Akemi tried to save Trahdoka Kaname in this timeline!!!

also im hype for PMMM walpurgisnacht rising! wooooo! im ready for Despair!!!

bonus, i need my thief comm as Mami Tommander. it just fits so much lol (all those rifles maaan)

#gw2 #puella magi madoka magica reference #seriously watch PMMM! it has magical girls! lesbians! GUNS! and soul crushing desire and longing for something you cant have!#trahearne #sulestari #sukma adhikara #kp2bruk drawings

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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Dirty Work 45

Joyous Walpurgisnacht: Part III

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: are we weady?

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor’s large hands drag along your shoulders as he tugs down the straps of your dress. Fear courses through your veins as your head pulses from impact. You blink, trying to see through the dark as his broad figure blocks out any light. You quiver, hands clumsily moving over the dirt, flailing as you throw them up against his stomach.

“St-op,” you choke out, head lolling as you try to shake off the vertigo, “ple-ease.”

“Shh, little maid, it’ll be over soon,” he coaxes as he traces the edge of your bodice, “isn’t that how it goes, eh? You do the dirty work with a smile on your face.” He grabs your chin, his hand cupping the lower half of your face, “give me a smile, little maid.”

You babble as your lashes flutter. Your eyes well with tears as you tell yourself it isn’t real. It can’t be.

“Aw,” leans over you, “are you going to cry for me? How cute.”

“Please…” you wilt.

“Mm, yes, you can beg,” he snarls, “eh, little maid, if my brother won’t put you in your place, I’ll be more than happy to do his duty. As always,” he sits up again, gruffly shoving your head to the side. Your tears flow over as you quake with sobs.

You grasp at his shirt desperately, trying to shove him off, trying to wriggle free from between his thick thighs.

“You must remember where you belong,” he spits, “in the dirt.” He covers your face with his hand and pushes your head into the ground. You whimper and swing your arm out desperately.

He trails his finger down to your bodice again, jolting you as he yanks, the zipper popping as the fabric slackens. The dress droops down your torso and he pushes it to crumple around your waist. You murmur and cover yourself with your arms.

He hisses and grabs your wrists, once more pinning them beside your head. He bends over you, sliding down your body. He holds himself above you, nuzzling along your neck as you quake. He nips at your neck, pinching meanly as you cry out.

“Please, please, please,” you whisper, “please, why…”

“There once was a little maid,” he snarls and bites you again, “bid to work upon her knees,” his teeth tear at you, “but she would not obey…” his beard tickles along your chest and he sinks his teeth around the swell of your breast.

You squeak and spasm at the pain. He only squeezes harder and harder, until you feel the flesh break. He unlatches from your flesh and growls, “and as her master would not remind her, it was up to his brother to discipline the errant maid.”

You choke on your sobs, nearly gagging with horror as he swirls his tongue around your nipple. He lets go of your wrists, one hand locking on your throat as the other creeps down your side. He lifts himself, moving his knees between your legs. He splays you wide as he pulls your skirt higher and higher.

You hear a screech. Is it you!? No, it can’t be, you can’t breathe. He squeezes until your head pounds. You beat on his shoulders weakly, heels bouncing off the ground. His hand grazes along your thigh and his fingers flick along the front of your panties.

Another horrid squawk, echoing all around. Then again, and again, and again. Like some distorted horn. There’s a flapping up in the branches and twigs snap in the grass. You close your eyes as you surrender. You can’t fight him. He’s too strong.

You deserve this. You are just the upstart maid. Laufeyson could never want any more of you than this. It hardly matters that it isn’t him. It’s all you’re good for.

Thor’s fingers dip beneath the thin fabric and scratch between your folds. You whimper and cough. He presses against your entrance gruffly and your insides clench. He prods at you then suddenly, all once, he rips his hand away, his weight collapsing onto you.

He grunts as he’s shoved off of you. A tall shadow kicks his ribs, over and over, several times. Thor rolls onto his back, catches the foot aimed at his middle and wrenches the man off kilter. You hack and huff as suck in air through your burning throat.

You push yourself up on one elbow, watching as the bodies tangle in each other, their grunts and groans interspersed with the sounds of violence. The moonlight leaks in between the branches above and a shadow flits across, a wide wingspan soaring over you.

You look up as Fossegrim dives down and sweeps back up with a mighty squawk, ‘lady’.

You squint at the chaos. Loki’s black hair hangs down as he hurls a fist down at his brother. Suddenly, he’s knocked onto his back and Thor rolls over him, laying a punch into his stomach. Loki puffs and moans, throwing an elbow down helplessly. The blond lands another blow, a mulching crack curdling the air.

You bend your legs, getting your feet under you. Your blood flows hot and your body tingles. Your vision is doubled, further skewed by the dim. You search around as Fossegrim plunges again, snapping at Thor’s golden strands.

You stagger around, your eyes falling to a thick branch across the ground. You bend, nearly falling onto your face, and grip the rough bark. You hear the men fighting still. Growls and sneers and horrid thuds.

“Animal…” Loki bites out.

You turn, the branch dragging heavily in the dirt as you drag it. Thor sits back, just as he did over you. He raises an arm and you lift the branch. You swing it before he can do the same, putting all your weight into the effort. You spin as you bring it down on his back, letting go as it makes contact and slipping down to your knees.

You fall onto your hands, disoriented as blood clogs your nose. Thor’s shadow rises over you and you look up, blinking as the moon outlines his silhouette. Loki pants as he lays in the dirt.

“Thor…” He says, “don’t–”

“Enough, brother,” Thor stomps his stomach, making him wheeze. He steps over his brother as he faces you, “I didn’t know you liked to watch but I don’t mind an audience.”

Thor lumbers towards you, wiping his face as he snickers. He stands over you as you cower, slipping onto your ass as you raise a hand over you. He grunts and staggers, a pathetic squeak rising from his throat as he cups the front of his pants.

You see Loki’s fist unhook from between his brother’s legs as the large man falters and drops to his knees. You move out of the way as he plants his hand and heaves. You kick him, as hard as you can and he falls to his side.

“That is low, brother,” he rasps.

“Don’t speak to me… of low,” Loki stands unsteadily, “if you have any semblance of a brain, you will stand down.”

Thor laughs and tilts his face up, “why would I–”

Loki doesn’t wait for him to finish his taunt. He lifts his foot and brings it across Thor’s cheek, knocking him onto his shoulder. He kicks him again and again. As he goes for a fourth, you crawl to him and touch the leg of his stained pants.

“Please… no more,” you beg as you look over at Thor’s unmoving figure.

Loki puts his foot on the ground as he peers down at you. He turns and bends his knees, squatting before you as he pulls your dress straight, fixing the straps through the fabric hangs loose. He grips your shoulders as he watches you, his face shrouded in the darkness.

He scoops you up without a word. As he stands, Fossegrim flies down and lands on his shoulder. Still, Loki does not speak. He only carries you through the trees, his heartbeat thumping beneath his shallow breaths. You lean your head against him, the last of your strength whittled away.

He doesn’t take you towards the noise of the party. He keeps to the pathways and the trails, following the far edge of the stone wall and up around the front of the house, well away from the lights that shine on the festivities. He does not miss a step as he carries you through the front door and up the staircase, not stopping until there’s a closed door at his back.

This isn’t your room. You’ve never been here. It must be his. He lays you down on the bed as the bird flutters off his shoulder, landing on the high post of the bed. You look up at the blue splotch of feathers bobbing above you.

You feel your energy slake away as the adrenaline seeps out. You stare up at the ceiling as you sense his movement all around you. The open and closes of drawers and doors, the steady, unshakeable pacing of leather soles.

Then at once, he’s standing over you, a trickle of dried blood from his brow to his chin. His cheek is swelling and discoloured and his hair mussed and dusted with dirt. He sits on the edge of the bed and dotes on you with a cool, stinging swap. You moan as your nose throbs, your entire skull thrumming at his touch.

He works methodically before he disappears again. Time ripples as if everything around you is submerged in water. He returns and slides open the window next to the bed. He shoos the bird and it leaves with a shrill squawk. He sighs and lifts you from the mattress.

Your head droops back over his arm as he carries you from the room. The descent has your head swirling and you close your eyes. You quiver as you smell the stench of dirt and grass on his stained clothing. You feel as if you’re being smothered again. You reach to touch the front of his shirt. He’s there, you’re okay. You clutch the fabric as he brings you out the front door into the cool night.

You open your eyes at the glare of light. There’s a black car waiting, a glowing sign mounted on top. A taxi. He eases you into the seat and buckles you in before rounding to the other side. The car shifts as he gets in and bids the driver to a hospital.

You slump against the door, lights gleaming in your vision. You watch the colours streak by, arms limp as you let the world spin around you.

You feel a warmth on your hand and your arm is dragged across the seat. Your head lolls as you glance over at Loki. He clasps your hand tight, his jaw locked as he stares ahead.

“I’m okay,” you say groggily.

“We will make sure of it,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“And you too,” you reply.

He looks at you, “me?”

“You’re hurt…” you murmur, “you…”

He hushes you, “it’s fine, we will see a doctor and sort it out after.”

You nod and let your eyes close. When you open them again, the taxi is still. You let Loki take over. He guides you from the car into the bright lights of the hospital. He sits you down in a plastic chair after you see a woman in blue scrubs. He pulls you against him, an arm draped over your shoulders.

“Ugh,” he leans his head back, “too much whiskey.”

You nestle into him, tired but wide awake. Your head splits and your nose pulses, but neither hurt as bad as your heart. A doctor can fix the damage Thor’s done, but can you heal what the wounds left by the man beside you?

The clock ticks on. You watch others come and go from the blindingly white room. Your name is called and Loki helps you to your feet. He walks you through the automatic doors and down the wide hallways. You enter a room and he lifts you to sit on the bed with the paper sheet.

He lets you go, biding his time as he browses the posters on the wall. You stare at your twiddling fingers as you wait. A doctor appears, he introduces himself as Dr. Ghent, and checks your nose. He doesn’t ask how it happened.

“Ow,” you hiss as he applies a plaster to your nose.

“It’s broken,” he says.

“Be gentle,” Loki crosses his arms as he approaches.

“Mm,” the doctor hums curtly, “if I didn’t recognise you, I might file a report with the PD.”

Loki frowns, “hiking accident, hardly worth the paper.”

The doctor doesn’t look convinced as he continues his work, a hard splint along the bridge of your nose. He takes you through a few tests with a light and listens to your heart. He rubs his forehead.

“Concussed,” he declares, “you will need to take it easy. Both of you appear to need it.”

You mutter and hug yourself. The doctor faces Loki and puts his hands on his hips, “your turn.”

“Pardon?” Loki squints, wincing as his left eye is nearly swollen shut.

“Let me stitch your brow, at least,” the doctor insists, “and I won’t mention the smell of rye reeking off of you.”

Loki sighs but lets the doctor tend to him. You watch, noticing how Loki’s hand shakes at his side. His knuckles are bruised and scraped. His tailored white attire is streaked in green and brown and red. He’s a mess. As much of one as you’ve ever witnessed.

You look down at yourself. Your dress is in a similar state, barely held up by the loose straps, the skirt shorn by the thorns and thickets, burrs caught in the mulched flowers. Your legs are scratched from your foray into the wilderness, your arms too.

“Might I suggest you don’t hike with a bottle of whiskey?” Dr. Ghent rebukes as he washes his hands.

“Oh, you will not see us again,” Loki promises as he approaches you, holding out a hand. “Come.”

You accept and let him help you down. He takes you from the room, striding down the halls but not too quick for you. As you get to the front doors, he stops and looks up at the moonlight.

“We will sleep at a hotel,” he says, “and in the morning, we are gone.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #thor #avengers #mcu #marvel

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