#two different uses of the word prophet here but you get it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mybutcheredtongue · 8 months ago

Text

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY (see full series list here)

1993

On the 22nd of November you sit on the floor of your office late at night, watching the flames of your fireplace crackle and pop. Beside you, sits Harry, eyes focused on the fire as well. Sirius had asked him to wait in front of the fire in your office at one o'clock and for you to be there too. You can't say your heart isn't beating faster than the steady tick of the clock on the wall, worried and giddy at the same time.

"I'm sorry about this whole situation, Harry," you say with a sigh, reaching out to stroke Dubh's fur idly as she clambers into your lap. "I know this isn't what you want. I tried everything to get them to change the rules but nothing worked."

"Thanks," he says blankly, like he's used to being disappointed.

"And that article in the paper — "

"I didn't say anything of that. It's a lie," Harry responds quickly.

You nod. "I'm well aware. Rita Skeeter is...difficult." As soon as the words have left your mouth, you grimace, shaking your head. "Actually, she doesn't deserve that nicety. She's a bitch, Harry. A nasty old hag that has nothing better to do with her life than spread rumours and sensationalise everything in sight."

Harry seems slightly taken aback by your words but nods in fierce agreement nonetheless.

"My best advice to you, Harry, is to run for the hills every time you see her — or just wave me over if I'm near. I am well accustomed to small talk with people like her — the trick is to just get them talking about themselves."

He nods. "I don't plan on going anywhere near her ever again."

"Smart decision," you say, sighing. "And look — I know I'm not supposed to get involved but if you need any help whatsoever, just ask. There's plenty of useful spells I can teach you and tips I can give — anything at all."

Just then, the flames move in a peculiar fashion and Sirius' head appears in the fire. Both you and Harry let out a small gasp, and when you look at Harry, his face has broken into the biggest smile you've seen him wear in weeks.

"Sirius!" Harry exclaims immediately.

He looks different from the last time you seen him. His face had looked gaunt and sunken, but now he looks far healthier and his hair, which was long, matted and greasy, is now clean and neat. You're glad to see that though he's trimmed it a tad, he's kept the beard. He looks younger.

"Hello, Harry," he says, before he turns to you, smiling, "and hello to you too, love."

You bring your hand up and give him a tiny little wave, unable to stop the giddy smile taking over your face at the sight of him.

"How're you doing?" Harry asks.

"Never mind me, how are you?" Sirius asks firmly, returning his attention to his godson.

"I'm — " Harry stops himself suddenly, holding himself back. Just when you're about to check if he's alright, he spills. He tells the two of you everything: about how no one believes that he hasn't entered himself into the tournament, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he can't walk down a corridor without getting sneered at, and about the toll it's all taken on his friendship with Ron.

You feel your heart ache for him. He deserves absolutely none of this and you wish you could do more to help.

"Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons — I'm a goner," he finishes desperately.

Sirius is looking at Harry with deep concern as he says, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute — I haven't got long here...I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."

"Just break into Moony's house next time," you say simply, shrugging. "Sounds much easier to me."

Sirius gives you a look that suggests he already thought of that, but obviously decided not to as he was already coming north to see you two. You smile cheekily at him and he shakes his head, refocusing his attention on Harry.

"What do you need to warn me about?" Harry asks.

"Karkaroff," Sirius says. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"He's a Death Eater?" You're shocked. Just this morning you picked his fork off the ground for him at breakfast!

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year — to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

There already is an Auror at Hogwarts, you think. Or did Dumbly-dorr just forget about me?

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry says slowly. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," Sirius replies bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place...he's not very popular there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

How do you not remember any of this? Surely you'd have seen this all mentioned in the papers around that time?

"Okay..." Harry says. "But...are you saying that Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," says Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry — "

"You and the rest of the world," he says bitterly.

"— and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius says hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he still can't spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So...what are you saying? Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But — why?"

Sirius hesitates.

"I've been hearing some very strange things," he says apprehensively. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone cast the Dark Mark...and then — did you hear about that Ministry witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha Jorkins?" You say. You recall reading that article about her disappearance not too long ago.

"Exactly...she disappeared to Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumoured to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" says Harry.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sirius says grimly, glancing at you. "Do you remember her at school?"

You nod your head. "She was at Hogwarts when we were, a few years above us," you explain to Harry. "As thick as a board, she was. Very nosey, too. Awful combination."

"Makes her easy to lure into a trap," Sirius finishes.

"So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" says Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don’t know," Sirius says with a shake of his head, "I just don’t know...Karkaroff doesn’t strike me as the type who’d go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can’t help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I’m standing." Harry grins bleakly. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

"You'll be fine," you reassure firmly, though you're not sure if it's for Harry's sake or your own. "I'll be there, all the rest of the teachers will be there, and there'll be that group of dragon keepers there too."

"Look, about these dragons," Sirius says, speaking quickly now, glancing around him furtively, "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a simple Stunning Spell — dragons are too strong and powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon — "

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," Harry says.

"But you can do it alone," Sirius tells him, looking him straight in the eye. "There is a way, a simple spell's all you need — "

Knock-knock.

At once, all three of you go dead silent and whip your heads to the closed door.

"Go, Sirius, quickly!" You hiss at him urgently.

You scramble to your feet, grabbing Harry's invisibilty cloak off the desk and launching it at him.

"Quick!"

Harry frantically pulls the cloak over his head and ducks behind your desk as you make you way over to the door, glancing back at the fireplace to see that Sirius' head has disappeared and the flames have returned to normal. You feel a small pang in your heart.

Who could possibly be knocking at your door at one o'clock in the morning? Surely everyone is asleep by now?

You pull the door open and are met with nothing but the quiet, dark corridor.

"Must've been Peeves," you mutter angrily, moving to close the door. Of course that poltergeist would find a way to cut your time with Sirius short.

"Oh, no, mistress, it is Bitsy!"

You look down in search of the voice and sure enough, at the foot of your door, is Bitsy, grinning up widely at you with her ginormous eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candles on the wall. You notice that she's holding a tray of scones in her tiny hands.

"Bitsy?" You say in shock and confusion. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"Bitsy was cleaning this corridor, mistress, and heard talking coming from mistress's office! And Bitsy thinks 'why is mistress up so late talking?' Perhaps she has a guest and is very hungry! Mistress was not at breakfast this morning, and I isn't seeing mistress in the kitchens either!"

While part of you feels angry and cheated that she's just interrupted your seldom chance to talk to your husband, you can't be mad at Bitsy and her big kind heart.

You chuckle softly. "Oh, Bitsy. You are far too kind to me. You're right, I didn't attend breakfast this morning nor did I go to the kitchens in the afternoon — I had breakfast with a friend of mine in Hogsmeade today. I should have told you."

Bitsy beams at you and holds the tray out for you to take. "Bitsy is glad to know you did not go hungry this morning. For you, mistress!"

You accept the tray with a smile. "Thank you, Bitsy. You are very kind — let me go fetch something to give you as a thank you."

"Oh, no, mistress! I cannot accept anything from you, I is just doing my duty!"

You leave her momentarily, placing the tray of scones down, grabbing a box off your desk and returning to hand it to her. "Film for your camera, Bitsy. So you can take more pictures. "

You don't miss the gleeful smile that spreads over Bitsy's face as she looks at the box in wonder. "Mistress, I must not — "

"I insist, Bitsy. Actually — I order you to accept the film. I know how much you love your camera," you tell her, pushing it into her hands.

"Thank you, mistress," she says gratefully, bowing to you. "I must return to my work now, unless mistress requires Bitsy for anything?"

You shake your head, smiling. "No, but thank you, Bitsy. I think it's time for mistress to get some rest."

Bitsy leaves, clutching the film tightly in her hands and bowing out of your view before Disapparating. You close the door behind you, letting out a sigh as Harry stands up slowly, pulling the cloak off.

"I'm sorry about that, Harry," you say. "I really wish we could have more time with Sirius."

"Yeah, me too. Was that a house elf?"

You nod, chuckling. "Sure was. That's Bitsy. You see, I stay up much later than everyone else — I'm usually up in the tower because of course, the best time to view the stars is at night, so I sleep in the next day and miss breakfast a lot of the time. And when I do, I can go down to the kitchens and Bitsy and all the other house elves will give me something to eat — have done since I was in school myself and did the exact same thing. Bitsy is my saviour, honestly. She's an absolute gem."

"You're able to get into the Hogwarts kitchens?" Harry says curiously.

"Yep. There's a painting of a bowl of fruit down by the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room — just tickle the pear and the door'll open right up for you."

You know that as a teacher you probably shouldn't be telling him this, but you don't really care. You went there countless times as a student so why shouldn't he?

Harry nods thoughtfully before asking, "That spell Sirius mentioned, that could defeat a dragon...have you any idea what it is?"

You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against your hip as you search your brain for anything like that. "I don't, Harry, I'm sorry. Perhaps you could try confundus, and confuse it? I can't say I'm too familiar with dragons...now, you should go to bed, Harry. A good night's sleep for the next few days is what you need before the first task. And in the meantime, I'll have a look and see if I can figure something out for you."

"Thanks, but I doubt I'll find it easy to sleep," Harry remarks, throwing the cloak back over his head.

"Well, if you do find that you can't sleep, come up the Tower," you tell him with a smile, pulling the door open for his invisible figure. "I find stargazing is the best way to relieve stress and solve problems."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You feel like you're about to get sick. You stare at the Hungarian Horntail, huge and terrifying as she crouches protectively over her eggs, huffing great hot breaths out of her large nostrils. And there, standing across from this fearsome beast as though rooted to the spot, is Harry. The crowd roars around you but you can barely hear them as your stomach knots and twists and flips with sickening worry.

"Accio Firebolt!" Harry yells, raising his wand.

You wait. The crowd waits. Harry waits.

And then you see it. Harry's broomstick, his Firebolt, hurtles towards him and stops in mid-air beside him, waiting for him to mount it. You vaguely register Ludo Bagman roaring something over the crowd in response to this, but you're too focused on praying to whatever great deities you can to protect your godson. You're just so relieved that he managed to figure something out — and something so clever, too! Why hadn't you thought of a Summoning Spell? It's so simple. Sirius will be so proud of Harry when he finds out.

Harry rises into the air, the wind rushing through his hair, surveying the dragon not far below him. A sort of resolve seems to come over him and then he dives, forcing you to bring your hands up to cover your eyes in fear.

"Oh, I can't watch," you breathe. Beside you, Minerva gives you an understanding look as she watches on. You hear the rush of fire, the crowd cheering and screaming, and then —

"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman roars. "Are you watching this, Mr Krum?"

You open your eyes just in time to see Harry plummet to the ground once more, just missing the burst of flames that flies from the Horntail's open maw — but not quick enough to completely avoid the whip of her tail and to your horror, one of the long spikes grazes Harry's shoulder, ripping his robes.

"Harry!" You shriek, practically about to chew your finger off with the alarming rate you're biting the tips of your nails as you reluctantly watch on, wishing for it to be over.

He begins to fly this way, then that, not near enough to make the dragon breathe fire at him to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient enough threat to make her keep her eyes focused on him, tracking his every move.

The dragon's head sways with his movements, her eyes unwavering as she followed him, gruesome fangs bared. You can feel your heart palpitating in your chest. Harry rises even higher, the Horntail's head rising with him, her neck now stretched out to its fullest extent.

You jump as the Horntail lets out a deafening roar, her tail thrashing threateningly as she blows another burst of fire at him, which he thankfully dodges.

She opens her mouth and then she finally rears, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last and Harry seizes the opportunity to dive at an incredible speed. You can barely keep your eyes on him with the rate he's whistling through the air, hurtling towards the nest of eggs.

"Come on, come on, come on..." you chant, hands tapping frantically at the tops of your thighs as you sit on the edge of your seat, watching impatiently.

Harry takes his hands off his broom, seizes the golden egg, and with another huge burst of speed, he's off and soaring out over the stands. He tucks the egg safely under his uninjured arm, and looks out over the stands.

You can't help but jump out your seat, cheering yourself hoarse as you voice your praise and feel relief wash over your body like a tsunami. The noise around you is monumental, drumming in your ears like a jackhammer.

"Look at that!" Bagman yells. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!"

The dragon keepers rush forward to subdue the Horntail and you hurry out of your seat, practically sprinting to the entrance of the enclosure. Minerva is hot on your heels and Moody and Hagrid have already beaten you, waiting with wide smiles for Harry to land.

"That was excellent, Potter!" Minerva cries as the boy hops off his broomstick. She points a shaky hand to his shoulder. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score...Over there, she's had to mop up Diggory already..."

"Harry, you were brilliant!" You exclaim excitedly, eagerly pulling him in for a hug and beaming at him. Normally, you'd worry about other students thinking you have a favourite — which you do, of course you do — but today you couldn't care less, you're so overwhelmed with relief and swelling with pride for your godson. "Absolutely brilliant, Harry! Just — fantastic, honestly, I can't believe it, I was so worried — I'm so proud — "

"Thanks," Harry says, unable to keep the large smile on his face down, his face red.

"Yeh' did it, Harry!" says Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Horntail an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was the wors' — "

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry says loudly, so that Hagrid doesn't blather on about how he had shown Harry the dragons beforehand. You give a light chuckle.

Even Moody looks very pleased, the slightest of smiles tugging at his cracked lips. "Nice and easy does the trick, Potter."

"Right then, Potter, the first aid tent, please..." Minerva says, gesturing to the tent with her hand.

He leaves, giving you all a grin before heading into the tent and you just smile proudly after him, rolling on the balls of your feet.

"Oh, he was just excellent, wasn't he?" Minerva says to you, smiling. "The best out of the all the champions, by far!"

You nod enthusiastically. "Easily! Oh, Merlin, I am just so glad he came out alright, I thought I was going to chew my own hand off with worry..."

"He was migh'y," Hagrid says loudly, a sob racking his body as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a large handkerchief, bigger than your face, and blows into it. "Jus' migh'y."

"Oh, Hagrid," you say softly, reaching up to place a comforting hand on his back, smiling sympathetically.

Across the enclosure, the five judges are sitting at the end in raised seats draped in gold. The first judge, Madame Maxime, raises her wand in the air and what looks like a long silver ribbon shoots out of the end of it — forming the shape of a large figure eight.

"Not bad," you remark, clapping along with the crowd. "Must've been the injury that lost him marks..."

Crouch comes next, shooting a number nine into the air.

"Excellent!" Minerva exclaims.

Next, Dumbledore puts up a nine and the crowd yells louder than ever.

Ludo Bagman — ten.

You turn to Minerva in disbelief, matching looks of shock with each other before you eagerly applaud.

Now, Karkaroff raises his wand. He pauses for a moment, and then a number shoots out of his wand — four.

"What?" You yell indignantly, blinking several times to make sure your eyes aren't tricking you. "A four?"

"How shameful, he gave his own student a ten!" Minerva remarks angrily.

Several members of the crowd seem to agree with you, bellowing angrily and booing at Karkaroff's biased marking.

Suddenly, Sirius' words ring in your head.

He's a Death Eater.

You feel your spine chill as you look across the enclosure at Karkaroff's steely expression, steadfast in his decision to reward Harry four marks.

Scumbag.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"A toast!" Dumbledore announces, raising his glass. "To the completion of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!"

You grin, raising your glass in tandem. "Cheers!" You clink it against Minerva's, then with Professor Sprout's on your other side.

All the staff have gathered in that small room right of the Great Hall for a little staff-only party, the fire blazing in its place and radiating a pleasant warmth around the room. The house elves have prepared a small spread of finger foods for the lot of you — and you've gone straight for the cupcakes, decorated humorously with little edible dragons. They're delicious — you make a mental note to voice your thanks to Bitsy the next time you see her.

Despite the happiness that's settled in you since Harry's successful task, when your eyes land on Karkaroff, sitting on the opposite side of the room to you, talking with Snape, unease gnaws at your gut.

You're sitting in a room with a Death Eater.

You've been in this situation countless times, of course, back when you were an Auror. But then, you knew what was going on. You knew what you were in for. Here, you don't. At parent-teacher meetings, you don't doubt you've been in the company of some Death Eaters, or former Death Eaters, rather. Some of your Slytherins' parents certainly seem to have a fondness for opaque, long-sleeved shirts...

You can't help but remember that night at the Quidditch World Cup, and your brain starts to picture one of those cruel Death Eaters pulling off his mask and revealing Karkaroff's sharp face.

You grip your champagne glass tightly, downing the contents and taking a deep breath. You should go mingle, the time for investigating Karkaroff can come tomorrow.

It's this little staff party that you finally get acquainted with Madame Maxime properly, trying your hand at your conversational-level French. She seems very impressed at this, delighted that you know at least a little bit of her own language — she says something about the 'arrogance of native English speakers', which you don't disagree with.

"Oh, and look at this pretty diamond on your finger!" Madame Maxime exclaims suddenly, catching sight of your engagement ring, sitting pretty above your wedding band on your left ring finger. She takes your hand in her much larger one so she can inspect it closer. "You are married?"

You look at the sparkling ring, glinting in the candlelight, smiling softly. "Yes, I am."

"How sweet," she remarks, dropping your hand gently. "I was married once."

You raise your eyebrows imploringly and she leans closer, waving her large hand theatrically as she says, "But he was a bastard."

She laughs fiendishly, and you just sort of watch, unsure whether you should laugh or not.

"You can laugh!" she assures when she sees your unsure expression. "Good riddance, is what I say. He thought he could keep the company of some girl while I was at working at Beauxbatons — so I said to him, 'fuck you and the whore you rode in on!'"

You nearly choke on your champagne, shocked at what you've heard come out of Madame Maxime's mouth. She grins proudly, showing rows of pearly white teeth. She seems to be finding your shock very amusing as she laughs again.

"His loss," you tell her, chuckling.

"Absolument." She shrugs nonchalantly, as though it was nothing to her but a stone in the bottom of her shoe. "Et toi? Where is your husband?"

You don't answer her for a moment, sucking on your teeth. "Well, I don't know, actually."

"How do you not know?"

"Oh, because he's just escaped from prison," you answer simply. You don't know what makes you tell her that. It would have been so easy to lie, but you don't. Perhaps it's the two too many glasses of champagne you've had, or perhaps it's the way Madame Maxime doesn't seem to care about anything, really, other than Fleur Delacour and the tournament.

Her mouth drops for a second, before she laughs. "Ah, well, c'est la vie. Marriage is never easy."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. It feels weirdly relieving to you that she couldn't care less about your personal life. You find a new respect for the woman in front of you. "Certainly not."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→⁠→ read chapter twenty-one here!

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

Hugs and bisous for my incredible taglist loves:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem @jennifer0305 @idkman5335

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #harry potter #the marauders #angst with a happy ending #angst #hp #fanfiction #fanfic #the marauders era #marauders #marauders era #themarauders #hp fanfic #hp fandom #wizarding world

97 notes · View notes

dracoxsworld · 1 year ago

Text

ARRANGED - “Take care of you” - Draco M. X Reader - PART 6

Draco was very busy the next couple of days. He went off looking for a new house for you both to live in. He insisted you be apart of the process, but you wanted to stay home instead. The idea of you living on your own officially slightly stressed you out.

You had always been provided things you needed; not that you doubted Draco couldn’t/wouldn’t provide for you, but things would be a lot more different now. Your mind was still mixed up after all that had happened; you’ve felt completely left behind in life, you felt like you were a background character in your own movie.

You and Draco got rid of all of the things that reminded you of Nicholas. Including a Daily Prophet snippet:

The Daily Prophet

Nicholas Heckons, a past lover of Y/N Malfoy speaks out against her current husband, Draco Malfoy. He claims she’s “brainwashed” and “manipulated”.

He also claims Malfoy is “violent” and “short-tempered” also very controlling of Y/N. Here’s the latest word.

“I feel bad for them both really, Y/N, stupid and naive. Draco will have to get used to that soon, really,” Nicholas Heckons stated to our press.

“I suppose they’re each others perfect match, I’ve tried to convince Y/N that Draco is a load of rubbish, but of course, she cheated on me with him. I wouldn’t expect her to listen to me.” claimed Heckons.

Well there you have it, folks. Are Draco and Y/N a match made in Heaven; or Hell?

“Bloody Git.” Draco mumbled to himself, trashing the magical moving newspaper into a trash bag.

“Don’t sweat it. He’s probably embarrassed.” You shrugged, tossing an old Quidditch jersey of Nicholas’. "It's bullshit. He's a load of bullshit." Draco swore. You walked over to him, crouching to his level, as he was sitting on the floor. You ran your hands through his hair, and smiled at him.

All the anger seemed to slip away from him, he smiled, too.

"You never told me if you found a new house," You stated to Draco. His eyes lit up again, and he took your hand and stood up, pulling you up with him. "I wanted to show you, Y/N. I know you say this stuff causes some stress, but I found one I've fallen in love with, I just want you to be in love with it, too." Draco confessed. You took a deep breath, and looked at him. You nodded. "Well, let's see."

Draco's hands quickly shot down to your waist, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, "Dray!" You gasped from surprise. You could hear his charming laughter. He walked with you over his shoulder to the bedroom door, where he set you down. He motioned for you to go out to the hallway of the manor, you both walked down the stairs and out to the entryway.

One of the employees of Lucius’ stops you both. His dark smile creeps on his pale boney face. “And where will you two be off to?” He croaks.

“We’re looking at the home I’ve picked.” Draco said sternly.

"How do I know you and this blood traitor aren't planning another escape?" The guard asked.

"Are you using your brain? Father has told you all to back off, we've gained his trust," Draco scoffed. The guard balled his fists in anger. "Now, do we have a problem, or do I need to get my father?"

The guard rolled his eyes, and stepped aside. "I am keeping my eye on you, Malfoy."

"That's Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy to you." Draco spat, as he took your hand and drag out out the front door. You finally could take a deep breath.

"That son of a bitch. We've travelled without guards before, what the hell was he thinking?" Draco huffed. "I'm not sure Dray," You sighed. Draco smiled down at you as you walked towards the Manor's extravagant gate. "I love it when you call me that."

You and Draco had apparated to the new home he had picked. It was gorgeous, made entirely out of brick, just like the Malfoy Manor. There was a tall, dark green fence surrounding the home, a large front yard, perfect to decorate with lush landscape, like large trees and bushes. You assumed there'd be a large backyard as well, you already dreamed of having a perfect garden, like Narcissa's. Draco could have all the flowers he wanted.

"What do you think?" Draco asked, smirking down at you, admiring the view as well. "Draco, it's- it's perfect." You voiced. "I mean, we could really build a life here, what did your father think?"

Draco shrugged, his hands in his pockets, looking at the greying-clouds. It smelled like rain. "He didn't react much, I am not even sure why he accompanies me." He admitted. You looked up at him, with affection in your eyes. Draco had clearly lacked a healthy father figure; and he's coming to terms with it and unfortunately, dealing with the aftermath.

When you're a kid, you tend to not notice things you are missing in your childhood. Thing's that are essential, almost nourishing for your growth emotionally. Draco was thrown to be in the Dark Lord's army at such a young age; even before that, forced under beliefs that might've not been his natural and true mindset. These were things you wished you'd realized before. He has a thick wall surrounding him; as thick and protective as it might seem, it didn't take much for it to melt away like ice. His silver eyes were glassy, he seemed stressed. You were hoping moving into your own home; just you and him may help his uneasiness.

"He may just miss having you around," You alluded; not sounding entirely truthful. Draco scoffed. You bit your bottom lip, but he laughed light heartedly. You laughed too, to avoid awkwardness.

"Unfortunately, a family is still moving out, we can't see the inside." Draco said gloomily. You could tell he cherished this home; and you did as well. It was just a waiting game. "Shall we go back to the Manor?" He proposed. You smiled and interlinked your arm in his and nodded. You both apparated back to the Manor.

You both walked into the Manor from door to find Lucius and Narcissa talking. They seemed very grave. Lucius looked at you and Draco, with a destructive look in his eyes. "Father." Draco greeted without emotion. "Draco. I've heard from one of my guards you have some sort of, oh; what should I say, Narcissa? Attitude problem?" Lucius recollected. Draco inhaled. "He is the one who gave us a problem." You spoke up. Draco's head snapped in your direction, his arm guided you to be behind him. You reluctantly obliged.

"Bark and no bite, Ms. Y/N?" Lucius chuckled mockingly. "Y/N is speaking the truth, father." Draco stated. His ears were turning red, and a vein in his neck that always pops when he's angry was visible.

"That guard was being a pain in the ass, accusing us of planning an escape!"

"I don't care what he was fucking saying, you must learn respect, Draco!" Lucius' voiced echoed off of the Manor walls. Draco flinched, Narcissa winced at the noise level of his voice, looking empathetic towards Draco and I.

Lucius stayed quiet for a moment. He inhaled a deep breath. "I clearly need to rethink you both leaving the Manor. You clearly aren't ready." Lucius voiced, turning away from you and Draco, facing the fireplace.

"What the hell? You can't keep us here forever. We are not your prisoners." I blurt out. Lucius swiftly turns to my direction and draws his wand, pointing it towards me. "You! You are the one who was venomous to my son's mind!." You drew your wand out as well, but Lucius performed an Expelliarmus charm, disarming you. You gulped and backed up, Draco immediately jumped in front of you, guarding you.

"That is enough!" Draco bellowed, his hand tightly wrapped around the base of his wand. Sparks flew out of Lucius' wand, you immediately recognized that it was the crucio curse.

"Protego totalum!" Draco cried, and blocked the curse.

"Lucius he is your son!" Narcissa bawled, throwing her body onto his arm. He looked down at his desperate lover, begging him to stop the violence against their own blood.

"I wasn't aiming for him, Narcissa."

Lucius lurched towards you and Draco. Draco's eyes were dark, looking up at his father. Lucius promptly shoved him out of the way, Draco toppled onto the floor.

"Draco!" You screamed, reaching out for him, but Lucius grabbed you by the base of your neck, pulling you towards him.

"Crucio!" Exclaimed Lucius, his wand pointing towards you.

"Y/N!" Draco yelled, but it was too late.

It felt like electricity was shooting through your body; you felt like you were on fire, as if a firework had been set off inside of your body. Traveling through each limb, making it excruciatingly painful. Your body jolted to the floor. You tried to scream and bellow in pain; but you couldn't. Your body folded onto itself.

"You son of a bitch!" Draco yelled again, he ran towards you, Lucius had his wand pointed towards him. "Leave her!" He began to say another spell until Narcissa's voice rang across the room, "Petrificus Totalus!"

You flinched, expecting you to be paralyzed, and unable to defend yourself, on top of being in this amount of intense pain, but you heard a large thump to the floor.

You felt so frail, you could barely lift your head up off of the floor, only to see Lucius completely paralyzed.

Narcissa was still from the casting position she was in previously, trying to catch her breath.

"He needs.... He needs time children, please go up to your room. Y/N, dear, are you okay?" She said, all in-between long, slow breaths.

"I don't know.." You admitted honestly.

“Draco, I will take care of you father here, please take care of Y/N.” Narcissa waved you both off.

Draco lifted you off of the floor, bridal style. You instantly cling to him. You look up and see a tear rolling down his cheek. A bruise was forming on his face from where he had hit the floor. “Draco, your face,” You said softly, your hand landing in his bruised cheek bone. “I am the least of my worries, Y/N. Especially right now.” Draco replied. His grip on your tightened. You arrived to your bedroom. Draco gently placed you on the bed.

He quickly went to his dresser, rummaging through what sounded like glass bottles. Draco finally found a small bottle containing a thin, red liquid. He handed it to you. You were still weak, and slowly raised your hand up to grab it.

“What is this?” You asked with a rasp to your voice.

“Wiggenweld.” Draco said, he seemed uptight. “A healing potion.” He added. You nodded and popped off the cork. You brought the bottle to your lips and downed the potion. A warm, numbing feeling went over you; then the numbing had gone away. Your pain was gone, you were no longer weak.

“I feel so much better, thank you.” You bummed to the platinum boy.

Draco seemed to be spaced out. He wasn’t facing towards you, he was instead looking outside of his window.

“It shouldn’t have even happened.” Draco stressed. “I should’ve been to take the curse.”

You shook your head. “Dray, I’m fine.” you had insisted, getting up from the bed, spinning around slowly to show him you’re safe. Draco stepped towards you, and placed his hands on your waist. His silver eyes meet yours. You’re unable to speak, like you’re in a trance.

“Your protection is my responsibility,” Draco began. “From now on, I promise I will protect you, but now I need to take care of you.” His voice was low, it was in a tone you’d never heard before.

“I need you to take care of me, Dray.” You say seductively. Your hands land on his chest, his hand remain on your sides, but are now slowly running up and down.

He looked at your eyes, then your lips. He held you closer to him, tightening his grip. You smiled up at him and stood up on your tip toes and connected your lips to his. It wasn’t quick, and simple like the ones you’ve had in the past. It was slow, and sensual. Draco was hungry for you, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you gasped lightly. He took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue toward yours. He backed up up onto the bed again.

You felt goosebumps on every inch of your body. Draco hovered over you.

“Let me take care of you.”

214 notes · View notes

miss0atae · 4 months ago

Text

Dreams and love connection in recent Thai QL Series :

I've recently started watching I Saw You In My Dream and the premise of the story is about a young man called Ai who acquire the power of prophetic dreams. With these dreams he can see what will happen the next day. This new power is going to change the dynamic of his relationship with his neighbor, Yu. There is indeed a recurring character in his dreams and that's Yu. These dreams will create a change in how Ai is viewing his relationship with Yu.

I Saw You In My Dream isn’t the only recent Thai QL series I’ve watched with dreams as a literary/cinematographic device. The GL series, My Marvellous Dream is You has also use it, too. Wan has always been able to see her best friend now lover, Kim, in her dreams. I felt like the Dream Land, as I called it, has always been a representation of Wan’s mental health and a tool for her to navigate her relationship with Kim.

Also, If you're watching Century of Love, you may have noticed how San always get wet dreams of Vee . It is used to reveal how he is unconsciously having feelings for Vee, despite rejecting him in real life because he doesn't look like the woman he fell in love a 100-year ago. Are the dreams only something coming from his subconscious or is it a dream send by the goddess to guide him… it's up to the viewer to make their own choice.

There are probably other recent Thai QL series using dreams as a literary/cinematographic device. However, I decided to focus only on these three for several reasons: I'm currently watching them, they are the ones that inspired this post and they fit one specific criteria. I want to develop the idea of dreams as a “magical” tool. It's useful to know I'm usually drawn to fantasy setting in stories. I especially like when the fantasy aspect produces a form of hesitation between the supernatural and the natural, the possible and the impossible, and sometimes between the logical and the illogical (not my words, I quoted Tzvetan Todorov). I believe the uses of dreams in the Thai QL series I mentioned, fall into this category.

Why is it fascinating when a work of fiction uses dreams? I think it's because they are a part of every-day life for most of us. Dreams have always been a source of inspiration or reflection. Traditionally they have been considered as a way of freeing oneself of time or space, to be able to talk to supernatural creatures or ancestors, a tool to heal or to access knowledge. There is also a more rational and scientific view of dreams. However, there is still this wish to know the meaning of the dream or why they exist and to what purposes. That's why it is always interesting to add dreams in work of fiction. They serve different purposes and can add so much more in a stories.

The way they are represented in work of fiction depends on the characters who get to have dreams and how it affects them. Here I'm going to solely focus on Ai, Wan and San.

Ai has prophetic dreams that focus on his neighbor Yu. Usually prophetic dreams provide foreshadowing. In this situation they are also going to influence Ai's reaction around his neighbor. Ai and Yu doesn't have the best relationship. Ai is often teased by Yu and he doesn't like it that much. The synopsis of the series also describe them as “star-crossed haters since childhood”. I found that it was a bit too much because I didn't feel like Ai really hated Yu. He hated his actions maybe, but Yu was an every-day part of his life. He was often at his home and they did so many things together. Anyway, it's only been two episodes, but Ai made several dreams of Yu. They are usually about an incident that would happen to Yu: he gets injured by using a knife, he gets hit by a car or he is hurt by a knife blow. Ai won't believe that these dreams will be real until Yu get injured by the knife almost like in his dreams. Then, he will try to prevent the terrible incidents that could happen to Yu. His dreams force him to care about Yu and to spend a lot of time with him when he previously avoided him. However, his dreams are not only about bad events his neighbor may have, he also gets a dream where he is kissed by him. In his dreams he gets to experience to feel like he is on cloud nine. It's a scenario he never imagined and it influences his reaction around Yu. The synopsis made us feel like all the care he will provide to Yu will make Ai see him differently. Also, as he is also experiencing love in his dreams he may feel the drive to feel it in reality too. Dreams here are a driven force and essential part of the story.

Wan is more a dreamy sort of person than Ai. When he rejected at first the possibility of his dreams to be true, she just rolls with them. She accepted that they are a part of her that she can use to get connected to Kim. In her dream she has her own land where she can escape reality and be free from the decorum of society in real life, but also she can be herself. I always felt like Wan has some sort of internalized homophobia and that's why she never tried to express her strong feelings to Kim. I imagine it was because of her personal life story as her dad abandoned her mom and her to be with a man. Her mother reacted really badly and she may have feared about coming out. It was only in her dreams that Wan could do all the things she wanted with Kim. That's why she was so casual about them. When she was talking to her friend about how she always used them, you could see how she accepted the power of her dreams and never really questioned why her or why she was having them. You have to know that, she seems to have a certain control of her dreams as her actions on her Dream Land have a repercussion in real life. However, in her series Wan isn't really using her dreams that much. They always felt disconnected from the story of the series which I always found quite disappointing because they were the reasons why I was so hyped by the series at first. It was used quite a lot in the series, but it was never the plot device I thought it would be. The story could have worked without them, but they were one of my favorite parts of the story.

San is a hard-nosed character who feels like he is a very prudish person who’s disturbed by the most erotic dreams of Vee. It doesn’t sit well with San, at first, because he strongly rejects the idea that Vee could be the reincarnation of the woman he considered as the love of his life. He has been living for 100 years suffering each night to get the chance to find her again after she was killed. To be able to stay alive and young looking until he finds her, he made a deal with a goddess to cherish and love the reincarnation of his previous lover. Vee is supposed to be this reincarnation (I still believe it would be great if it’s the case) but he is no woman and he is not a copy carbon of how Vad / Wat was acting in the past. That’s why San reject him. However, in his dreams his reluctance to accept Vee are not to be seen. Even if Vee isn’t his previous lover, he is still having erotic dreams of him. It’s really Vee and not Vad / Wat that San imagine in his dreams. The overwhelming pleasure he gets isn’t induced by an oneiric Vad / Wat. He sees only Vee. The first dream is an erotic dream free from the old conception of life San may have. In the second dream, Vee is represented has a nine-tailed fox, a mythical fox from Chinese mythology. A nine-tailed fox possesses magic powers and are usually mischievous, tricking other people, with the ability to disguise themselves as a beautiful man or woman. This time Vee is the temptation San is trying to avoid. This dream shows him that he is struggling in vain. He already has feeling for Vee even if he can’t really understand them, yet. Dreams in this series show something about a character they aren’t aware of. One of them is also showing symbolism. As for now, the series didn’t go overboard with them.

I may have to update this post later when I’ll get the new episodes of these series.

29 notes · View notes

sorormaior · 12 days ago

Note

What were the other Primarchs (Dorn, Mortarion, Jaghatai, etc) thoughts of Cary?

I meant to answer this. Yesterday. OH WELL

So the main thing is that Cary is there to balance out Night Haunter. They are there so that when he’s like. I would like to start stabbing my brothers they slowly shake their head. They’re a Captain of no company but if asked they’d point at him and be like. I’m the captain of that.

So that being said: they moved through high command a lot, therefore they are known. Here are various opinions on The Captain.

LION EL’JONSON

I was actually going to put in that he once cracked their orbital socket backhanding them after they got a bit too sassy, but it never made the cut. He likely preferred having them around as it made Night Haunter easier to deal with. They’re efficient and that’s what matters.

FULGRIM

That’s his sweet baby! Fulgrim took one look at the two terrified children clinging onto each other and was like. Well I can’t not raise them. He’s a guy who raises people up, and Cary thinks about him often, misses him. They were close.

PERTURABO

My man Pert don’t like anyone much. I don’t think he’d have like, objections or problems with them but like: he wouldn’t care. They do their job and don’t get in his way.

JAGHATAI KHAN

Forgive my ignorance but I know. Little about him. However I don’t see that he would have had any problems with them, probably would have been happy to exchange a few words with them, nothing special.

LEMAN RUSS

Cary’s not allowed to drink with Space Wolves anymore. They still haven’t gotten the stains out of the rugs. He liked ‘em.

ROGAL DORN

In Carylore: Dorn grabbed ‘em to stop them interfering with the Emperor and Night Haunter’s first meeting. So his first impressions of them were of a ratty, underfed teenager who tried to punch him. His impressions have thankfully improved. They are now a ratty Astartes who does paperwork and can be trusted to reel Night Haunter in.

FERRUS MANUS

Doesn’t bother him, keeps communication efficient, once on the Bucephalus he walked past a bunch of Iron Hands cheering them on as they tried to lift weights. Was surprised they made it through augmentation, consistently surprised they’re still alive.

ANGRON

No thoughts head angry. Cary had more interaction with Khârn anyway.

MORTARION

Generally positive opinions, Cary doesn’t show outwardly as a psyker (the future visions could have been explained by geneseed anyway) and they’re polite. They have definitely tried to feed him before and showed some concern about his health without overstepping the mark. They were kind to him, and that’s what matters.

MAGNUS

Thinks they’re funny and one of the better members of the Eighth to talk to. Was once patronising to them at a legion social and Cary hasn’t quite forgotten or forgiven. He did look to them to be the voice of reason on occasion when having a discussion with Night Haunter

HORUS LUPERCAL

I think about Horus a lot as a guy who is like, running on charisma and social skills. I think he’d see Cary as a kindred spirit in that regard. Game recognises game etc etc.

LORGAR

Another one of the delegation of light crew. Pities them, something Cary would dislike him for if they knew. Thinks they’d make a good prophet.

VULKAN

He’s generally kind of disappointed by them, but how much of that is magnified by Cary’s own guilt is up for debate. They are both “good” people in bad positions, and Cary is desperately trying to keep an entire legion from falling to pieces. But Vulkan always made them feel like they should be doing more. Complex feelings on both sides.

ALPHARIUS OMEGON

Useful. Knows how to tailor a report. Knows how to act around different people. One to keep an eye on.

Didn’t include Night Haunter or the other two Weedsmoking Primarchs or Gman, but can do in another post/reblog if wanted :DD

Thank you for the question! This was fun to think about!!

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40k oc #wh40k #cary kulikov tag #primarchs

17 notes · View notes

fancifulplaguerat · 7 months ago

Text

As I continue to scratch like a little beast at the concept of fate in Patho Mark Immortell unfortunately needs to be discussed. Specifically Mark in Patho Classic, because he’s just so……. What the hell is going on with that dandy Mephistopheles. I have to know.

Mark is clearly cognizant of Patho’s narrative to an extent, and seemingly represents another play on “lines” as a mechanism for prophesying in Patho. As Artemy knows the lines in viscera as a Haruspex, Yulia/the Mistresses know cause-and-effect chains/threads of fate, Mark knows the lines as in theatre. Eva describes Mark’s performances thus: “Staggering, prophetic performances! They predict fates. […] Two ritual Masks pick a volunteer from the crowd. Mark looks at his hands, then shows them to the Masks. They improvise. Without a word they play out either the nearest future or the whole life of the person—depending on the price. And it always comes true!” Notkin says, “They say they tell your fortune, right? Might be just a game, might be note; it does come true. I think though that it’s Mark himself who manipulates the events to align someone’s life with his ideas. […] I mean, [his predictions] do come true, though not every time, and if they don’t, he explains it away as a metaphor, or says they did come true but we didn’t notice.” Notkin differs from Eva’s depiction somewhat; at least, he complicates whether Mark’s performances really come true, and this reliance on metaphor to me is reminiscent of an idea in Patho where obfuscation, story-telling, or performance are the most efficient means to communicate truth (lovely Nina is an apparent exception but I am not talking about that right now <3).

For instance, a Town child tells the player, “Mark—he knows the truth and is afraid to distort it. That’s why he uses masks, puppets, and riddles.” This echoes Katerina’s line, “I can’t leave my smoke and mirrors be […] Because I cannot lie when it comes to details… My lips literally cannot enunciate something that is untrue. Riddles and vagueness leave me a degree of freedom.” Mark himself voices something similar: “Like any game, play-acting is a mere shadow of Existence, a tiny fragment of it, a semblance—not a hollow semblance, mind you, quite the contrary, filled to the brim! Play-acting is fuller than reality... since it’s smaller.” To me, this gestures to how storytelling and theatre—with their ability to exaggerate reality—allow one to address issues in a roundabout way which can be more efficient than clear-cut truth. Simplicity is absolutely a necessary tool, but can inevitably hinder necessary nuance, and I think that is what Patho is getting at here. Similarly, it’s suggested that people *interpret* these plays rather than the acts being clear depictions of future events, e.g. when Mark talks about the bull in the Bone Stake Lot incident: “Everybody started to talk about it, interpreting and reinterpreting the… act. Just like they do with our very own Mask Act here. The prophetic excitement is growing by the hour…” just as he later says, “No, I am no longer a mime show interpreter.” All this suggesting that Mark perhaps interpreted simulacra or semblances, and this is how he understood Pathologic’s narrative.

Characters further suggest that Mark’s Masks did not merely show the future, but enforced it. Daniil says, “You were a puppeteer. Your Masks foretold our future—or maybe imposed it upon us; in all honesty, I don’t see the difference.” Maria similarly states, “his performances don’t show a person’s fate, they impose it,” and Lara says, “Mark’s mime shows seem to incorporate us too… everyone’s playing along to avoid disrupting the performance, and that’s exactly how he’s manipulating us.” I interpret this from the meta angle, because obviously the Theatre demonstrates the game’s events, which the characters act out because. Well. They are characters. Even Mark doesn’t appear above it all, as Lara says “I think it’s the Masks who play him and not the other way around,” and Mark refers to himself as an actor, such as when he muses that “I’ve been thinking about leaving this place of the dead for a while now, but I get the feeling that this is exactly the place for me to fulfill my part…”

Though, Mark obviously more often references the player’s role as an actor, which again points to his understanding of fate. Namely when he tells Daniil “[The next performance is] for you to decide. You are part of the lineup. The playscript is not yet complete, you see. […] Your fate isn’t bound yet. It will take time, effort, and of course your direct participation. Come to see us every evening. We’ll show how you’re doing bit by bit.” This dialogue is obviously stepped in the meta: the playscript depends on our actions, as the game unfolds according to our choices in words and deeds. This reminds me of how the Mistresses and Simon’s fortune-telling all seems to juxtapose predetermination alongside some kind of free will. That is, while there is room for a player to subtly influence the narrative’s progression, it is obviously all set out for us in the end. It has to end in a particular way, and it feels like this is what Mark understands. Namely when he discusses the three families with Daniil, and when Daniil asks which will be victorious, Immortell says, “You don’t need me to tell you that; the answer is yours. They're so different... Which one do you prefer? […] It's up to you.” Mark knows that the player must inevitably side with one philosophy according to their choices: choice decides the outcome, but that outcome is obviously already determined.

Mark instead tells Clara that she is “against the rules” because she is “an imposter and a changeling.” Against the game’s rules, presumably as Clara is the only character capable of breaking her fate and so going off-script, as it were, in Mark’s performances. In the secret endings, the gamemakers say that Clara’s twin was a “gimmick of choosing one’s own fate” and that “She was indeed conceived as a disease, an instrument of the Law… but she was born a thief. At the very moment of her birth, she got a chance to become someone completely different. The girl came into this world, having stolen for herself the fate of a miracle-worker.” From a mechanical standpoint, Clara is obviously unique in that she has a choice—most people probably know that curing all the Bound allows you any choice, but that aside, Daniil and Artemy have only one decision. So setting aside that Clara obviously is still bound by a preset narrative, she is capable of choosing to oppose her predetermination and thus the capital-L Law, as fate/inevitability/the Law are closely intwined and often conflated. Breaking the Law is indeed ‘miraculous,’ which is referenced in a dialogue between Imortell and Daniil about the Polyhedron:

Mark Immortell: […] First of all, I also believe in lofty ideals—don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. […] But recently I came to realize something that has blown me out of the water completely and made me reevaluate my worldview. So... I believe in Vlad's transformation. Bachelor: What did you realize? Mark Immortell: That fate can be overcome. I’m so tired of all this... You know, many people consider my shows to be mere tricks—but I know that’s untrue. They are daily reminders of Predetermination reigning over us... it’s depressing. But now I see that a miracle is not completely impossible. Bachelor: Please, go on! What makes it possible? Mark Immortell: It’s the Tower. The only thing that leads the plots of my performances astray is the Tower. The Tower—and everything that has to do with it... those are the only things that cannot be tossed and turned and manipulated like puppets. A miracle overcomes the inevitable. The Tower can do miracles. It all makes sense. Bachelor: I’m not sure it does. Mark Immortell: You will still have an opportunity to ponder it. The Tower is an ambiguous phenomenon. There’s no need to rush to conclusions. I have, as you can see, fallen in love with it... I think of it as my safe haven. But you should keep a cool head.

I am gleeful about this dialogue btw there is so much to work with here. For one, it maintains the link between opposing fate and the miraculous found in Clara’s character, as Mark’s conviction that “fate can be overcome” derives from the Polyhedron’s capacity for miracles. Again, then, the miraculous is positioned opposite inevitability and fate. But what is Mark’s actual relationship to Utopia and the Utopians? I have always wanted to throw up blood over Daniil and Mark’s final conversation. When he tells Mark, “I thought that the whole point of the Utopians’ ideology was neglecting the laws of fate and the limits it imposes upon us,” to which Mark replies, “You are correct, oh the keenest of the astute! So what? I have cognized this side of Existence from backstage, so to speak; from where the strings go and the machinery is hidden—and yet I willingly swore allegiance to the Utopia. Does that tell you nothing?” That line goddamn haunts me. It always reinforced to me that there is an undercurrent in this game that people should strive for utopia, even if it’s a perpetually doomed endeavor, given Saburov and Eva’s statements to this effect. Mark appears sincere in this, given his “I also believe in lofty ideals” or how he gives his life to Maria; Katerina claims that Maria is the only one who can influence Mark, and indeed we see his collusion with Maria in the Changeling Route.

But Clara throws potential doubt on Mark’s allegiance to the Utopians when she reports to Katerina, “He’s not one to side with either the Utopians or the Humble. He stands apart.” [or] “Maria thinks he’s under her charms and in the ranks of the utopians. He’s playing along [with her]. But that’s not how it really is!” I think Mark could well be playing along with Maria, considering a dialogue with Andrey where he suggests that Mark “Claims that the local mimes can tell the future. As for me, I think he’s making fun of the Mistresses—and, by extension, of us all.” Maria herself says of him, “He makes me anxious; his performances don’t show a person’s fate, they impose it. I’d really like to see someone grab and pull the puppeteer’s strings. […] one day I shall tame this crafty imp—no matter what it takes.” “Makes me anxious”?? Maria of Scarlet Mistress fame ??? This reminds me of Mark’s voice lines “There is a great ability in knowing how to conceal one's ability,” and “It is sometimes necessary to play the fool to avoid being deceived by cunning men.” These lines need not necessarily be related, but imply a deceptive character that suggests he could be following Maria’s lead out of amusement.

Another suggestion that Mark is taking the piss is that he quotes Professor Pangloss from Candide, who represents the naïve optimism and theodicy Voltaire lambasts: “All is for the best in this best of the worlds” (Всё к лучшему в этом лучшем из миров/Tout est pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes possibles). The Utopians are not necessarily naïve optimists, but are dreamers who ascribe to the miraculous, even emphatically self-proclaimed rationalist Daniil. Theodicy also intended to vindicate divine justice, and Patho’s narrative involves its own ‘divine justice’ through plague; so Mark quoting Pangloss feels quite tongue-in-cheek to me.

Whether Mark is a sincere Utopian… As with everything, it’s open to interpretation. I think he is, given that dialogue with Daniil. Mark seems aware that he is only pulling people’s strings in that his performances reflect a predetermination that he is subjected to as much as everyone else. He appears genuinely intrigued by the miraculous (as in: fate can be broken) in his claim that he has fallen in love with the Polyhedron as Daniil or Eva. Likewise that he claims Clara is a “worthy opponent” as a miracle-maker, given that she defies fate and so overcomes the inevitable. I find it particularly notable that Mark considers the one thing that ‘leads the plots his performances astray’ his “safe haven;” but, I also think Mark is frankly cheeky about the whole affair because of his narrative awareness which also sets him apart from other characters.

#this one's for you Ruby #you understand my pain and suffering at being forced to think about Candide again #pathologic #mark immortell #patho.txt

29 notes · View notes

queen-of-elves · 1 year ago

Text

Acceptable

Armitage Hux x reader - Modern Office AU + some background Reylo

Summary: You have been working for First Order for years now slowly giving up on the idea of your dream project ever gracing your presence until it finally happened, however, there is a slightly cold and rude problem, other team leader Armitage Hux.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN (And I'm begging you to send me some)

A/N: There is not enough classic fanfics for Armitage and almost zero AUs so I am here to satisfy the bitches, it’s me, I am the bitches

+not betaread so be kind

Words: 5.8K

Warnings: some swearing probably, there is always swearing in my fics, talking about f themself cause corporate life is annoying, some inappropriate thoughts

Tags:@l0stinth3nightsky @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive

Everyone in the company knew how mean and bossy Armitage Hux was, even if you were from a completely different department, but this project was going to pull you in his inner work team and it terrified you to get first hand experience with him. You heard plenty of times how he made new interns cry and the older ones want to commit a suicide. So you weren’t exactly thrilled at working with him even on a project you have literally dreamed of since being accepted to work for the First Order company, the most prestigious company among prestigious companies. The project required two different departments that almost never interacted which also didn’t help.

You were ready for the first meeting between two departments, each under the supervision of completely different people and personalities, to be just a horrendous trainwreck. But Armitage Hux being the team leader of the other one? You didn’t have to be some kind of prophet to know this was going to be painful just to watch. Even though you were anxiously expecting disaster to occur in the first meeting, the sunshine side in you just had to shine through. So you had an exceptionally good morning, you were on time, had a delicious bagel and the sky was sunny, therefore there was no chance of Hux fucking up your day.

The office building was huge but not exceptional among the other skyscrapers littering the city, molding it into cement block maze. The windows provide enough clearance for you to see the busy people already moving around in the offices above, you even noticed some of your own team members anxiously waiting for your arrival while preparing the rest of the documentation for today's team meeting.

You knew you were ready, your team also knew but that didn’t put to rest the anxious little monster growing inside your stomach. Still, you put on your best brave smile and entered the lobby, greeted the receptionist Clara and continued down the hall to wait for the elevator. Beeping your employee card on the scanner, to let you proceed to the elevator, put you right back into your morning routine, well, just for your coworker and a sort of subordinate, Rey bombard you with questions in the waiting line.

“Did you hear it?” Her voice sounded an octave higher than usual or maybe it was just your tired brain not used to loud sounds yet, nothing a good old coffee couldn’t fix in minutes.

“Hm?” Your brain was still too tired to properly answer and so you only mumbled an acknowledgement to her question. Slow sips of your latté seemed to clear your mind a bit, thank god for sales like bagel plus free coffee at the local cafe otherwise you would be unusable these days.

“You know what I mean.” You were sure if you were to meet eyes with Rey, she would pierce you with that intense gaze.

“The merge.” There was no merge, so far you weren’t even aware of any cuts in finances for this year or the one to follow. Whatever Rey was talking about was most likely just a bunch of bored employees gossiping and conspiring together, nothing major, nothing serious. This realization calmed you down even though The Merge sounded quite apocalyptic.

“I can assure you there is no merge, especially not between our two departments, Miss-” A voice interrupted but it did not intend to finish that sentence as if the owner was too busy to learn Rey’s name at all. He turned his attention to you, measuring you over, his calculating glare went over the ink stained hands to your low set black heels with that tiny cut on the left side you were so desperate to hide with black marker.

Armitage Hux waiting in front of the elevator for your arrival was definitely not on your list for today. He looked like a pristine image out of some magazine with men’s suits, his deep blue shaded suit with silver cufflinks perfectly paired with an expensive looking watch he was now checking printing itself in the back of your brain forever. Quite a nightmarish image of a handsome man with such a cold and cruel demeanor.

“You are both late. Meeting room 3 in 5 minutes.” And with that he was gone again, like a ghost, maybe he is a ghost of this building, stackup nitpicking cold monster that was stabbed by his tired employee centuries ago and now has to haunt the rest of you. He didn’t even turn around making you puzzle if he was truly addressing you.

“What’s going on?” Whisperyelled Rey, her wide eyes scanning the surrounding as if Armitage was going to pop up from the corner to remind her she has now 4 minutes left to be present in the meeting room.

“Trouble.” You simply answered your bewildered friend, there was no better answer to it after all. The morning you dreamed of was slowly fading into a nightmarish mess but at least you had now caffeined your brain enough to proceed to normal functions. Plus your team had your back, there was nothing to be afraid of except Armitage Hux and he was simply a man in a suit. Just an ordinary man in a tailored suit with a stoic expression.

And you were right, the team really had your back but Armitage definitely didn’t, he was mean and bossy and nitpicking and just so fucking insufferable. However, the meeting ended with both departments and their leaders arriving at a consensus, not a happy one. It almost reminded you of those messy divorce screaming matches in tv shows, except this was veiled in professionalism and formal language.

Of course your suffering didn’t end just as did the meeting, he was probably a sadist, prolonging your pain with his “Word?”. You were sure it wasn’t even a question, it was just an order for you to follow him straight to his office.

Armitage Hux’s office was neat as it can be, if it weren’t for the few scattered papers on the desk you would guess this was one of those exhibitions of furniture in Ikea. Well, even the Ikea display has more personality, some fakeass photos of happy couple/family. His office is neat until it’s bare, devoid of indicating anything about the owner’s personality.

That’s kinda sad.

“Listen, I know that the project is not top notch of the quality it could be but I think we have a solid plan we can now expand upon.” You had to win this argument, you wouldn’t let him defeat you over a project you so desperately wanted for years. So, if he wanted to fight you were ready to bare teeth at this twig in a suit.

“Oh, and before you say it’s-,” you couldn’t even finish before he interrupted you, “acceptable.”

“What?” You blurted out, completely stunned by his remark. Did Armitage Hux, after all that tousling about in the meeting room, admit the plan your team created is acceptable. Yes, there were few changes happening after the “discussion” of both teams but nothing you have not foreseen already that also didn’t mean you were happy with said changes. But consensus between two completely different departments is everything the leadership asked for.

“The proposal is acceptable, I don’t understand why I should be doubtful, so far you have only proven to be a valuable asset for the company.” Armitage was always the epitome of professional and now he was complimenting you. He was complimenting you, right? Maybe you had too much coffee, maybe you had not enough coffee and maybe God was spinning on his chair and laughing at you up in the sky.

“Oh, thanks. I will take it as a compliment, even though you sound like a formal email impersonator.” Gosh, did you really just say that to him? There was a cold sweat pooling down your back, anxiety ranking up. Was he going to yell at you for such a statement, what you have heard so far it wouldn’t be unusual for him to yell at people over smaller things.

“I don’t.” His expression could be only described as a deadpan expression. It’s actually kinda funny, not entirely scary. He doesn’t laugh, noted, but you do and you also make people laugh and so you set your new target.You almost look around to see a hidden camera or an entire camera crew as if in The office. And while you amused yourself in your mind Armitage sported back his expression to emotionless stare before turning his attention back to the documents on the desk.

“You do.” A small laugh escaped your lips at that moment and with his attention divided elsewhere you took it as an ideal time to run away exit the situation and also the office.

But before you could escape this storm of a man, he had to add. “Until the next meeting I expect you and your team to finish said plans.” And with that the conversation and mess of a morning comes to an end. However, there is still a lot of time for unexpected surprises before the day ends.

And so it began, the little you running circles in your brain over the thoughts of your new co-leader, the cold redhead slowly sneaking in your head again and again. It helped the clock to tick faster which was a good thing but the constant train of thoughts disassembling every part of your interaction with him over the time was like a cold shower every single time.

The last time you checked the clock read 5 minutes after 8pm and with that you started to pack your things ready to head home, have little dinner and continue with the paperwork over a random kdrama playing as a background noise. And as you bid everyone goodbye you noticed Armitage’s crouched figure in his office, going over some even more boring paperwork than was the one waiting on you at home. It was probably true, the first one to be in the office and the last one to leave that was Armitage’s schedule.

Sad.

And so you set your mind on a new plan, a horrible and cruel plan to ruin your late morning and exchange it for an early cold shower wake up and speed walk to a cafe not only for your favorite bagel but also a special delivery of coffee.

God, what am I even doing this early?

When the alarm buzzed you were around 100% sure you were making a mistake. Waking this early should be a crime. No, It is a crime. Especially when you were a busy little bee like you always are and spent the whole night until 3am working. But part of you knew it was going to be worthy, today was the day you were going to crack that tough ice cold exterior of Armitage’s facade.

If waking up this early wasn’t a mistake the cold shower definitely was but in all honesty you were just afraid you would fall asleep on the bus, so cold shower it was. In the end it was kinda worthy, you got your favorite bagel without having to wait in long line; got another free coffee, you had no idea if the sale was still on or if you just looked so terrible they felt sad for you and just had to give it to you; you also got Armitage his coffee and as a big finale you were on time, actually very early overall.

The office was ruefully empty. And there was no Rey to talk to, you knew she wasn’t going to be in the office until 9am but you still hoped even she would find the idea of early start amusing. In reality you expected to get laughed at when she finally decides to grace the office with her presence.

You might have felt alone in the empty corridors of the building but it was not so empty after all. The curtain might have been drawn but you could see a slim light escaping in between them from his office, the artificial light was definitely not sunshine.

He must have stayed up all night.

Mustering courage you knocked on his door before waiting on an invitation to let yourself in. It was useless, there was no sound coming from the office and so you knocked again and then again. Realizing he was not going to answer you decided to open the door and check up on him anyway.

He was sleeping on his desk with his suit jacket over the chair behind him and loose tie around his neck. The dress shirt slightly crumpled at the edges, his red hair tousled around and neck craned in such an uncomfortable position you were sure of his incoming back pain.

“Knock, knock.” You tried to say softly, just lightly waking him up but instead you groaned, your voice still not comfortable from no use this morning, startling him awake.

“I-” His form jolted, eyes flying open and searching the room for the culprit of his rough awakening. Blue eyes finally gazing upon you, Armitage looked boyishly handsome that morning, it was not just the wide expression but the state of disarray you found him in.

You decided against speaking, part of you afraid your blushing form would say something stupid, the stupid thoughts of the redhead not leaving you alone. The, almost like a cardboard, coffee cup made an uncomfortable noise once you pushed it on the table toward its owner, making the moment even more awkward.

He took a slow sip, still not fixing his hair or attire and part of you wished he never would, it suited him and you probably liked it even more than it actually suited him.

“How did you know what coffee I drink?” His voice still hoarse and laced with sleepiness painted your cheeks even more crimson red. God it made you imagine things, you didn’t even know from where the thoughts were coming but there was somehow no way to stopping them. Your view of Armitage Hux completely shattering and rearranging itself into a different image.

“It's just black coffee, Hux, I assumed you would like black coffee, you are like the embodiment of black coffee.”

“Thank you, that's very considerate of you.” His lips touched the cup in a cautious move before he took a sip, trying to hide his small smile but you noticed it, you definitely noticed it and you knew you won. You won Armitage Hux over with a simple gesture of kindness.

”Was it a compliment or?” You wanted to laugh and you wanted to see more of a happier Armitage from now on. You felt like you got closer to Hux at that moment, a possible friendship started to blossom between the two of you.

“Who knows.” Shrugging, he moved on to finally fix himself a little, smirk still apparent on his lips complimenting his tired stare. In that moment you wanted to experience more moments like this and you sure were going to try.

********

Finally it was the day the board would either accept the project or deny it. You couldn’t sleep for two days prior and even before that you slept only around 15 hours in a week, you felt almost dead. Both of you, Armitage and you, were now staring at your notebooks, ready to receive the final answer to your now weeks long struggle.

Armitage's notebook beeped, a notification sounding off, sending you flying across the desk almost into his lap, not even considering it could be a completely different email or even personal thing.

You and Armitage got closer, just as the both of your teams, over the weeks you spent on this project, countless nights together in the office seemed to harden your relationship even more. You had fun, Armitage was not only a hardworking perfectionist and handsome man, he was also very funny, like ridiculously funny in your opinion.

The email was long, like unnecessarily when it comes to formal corporal emails but the end of it was just so promising. Both of you skimmed over the words, searching for the phrases denied. There was none, the only thing in the end it contained was so sweet and wanted approval for your project, relieving you both of disappointment.

You were not sure who was the first, if you or Armitage, but now the both of you were jumping as high as you could while clinging to each other, a victorious hug. It could take only seconds or minutes, you squealing and Armitage yelling, hugging each other and jumping once again, but when it was over, the embarrassment in both parties was apparent.

Anyone could come into this office at any time, it was not uncommon for most of the higher ranking employees to just not knock and barge in and if they saw the team leaders of the current biggest project in the company disheveled and out of breath, who knows what they would think.

There was a common understanding of this premise and so the following actions were understandable, while you tried to smooth your skirt down, Armitage did the same to his hair and also his tie. He was still out of breath and a bit flushed, his look of happiness making you warm again.

“You should trust your guts more.” And again with his disheveled appearance, this man was going to be the death of you for sure. And while he was busy sporting himself back into his usual calm and perfect form you had to admire how far the both of you have come.

“Trust my guts? Armitage, I have a crippling anxiety.” Wholehearted laugh clawed its way out of your throat, making him smile. “That’s like the worst advice ever.” You continued still giggling like a little girl with your cheeks starting to hurt from all the happiness flowing inside you.

“I tried.”

“I appreciate it.” You gave him a small shy smile, your cheeks were still too warm for you to completely concentrate. “Thank you.” You whispered in the end.

“You are welcome.” Nodding fondly over this conversation, Hux gave you a smug expression, which you have completely missed because you turned your attention back to the documents you had to prepare for the next meeting.

“Even though you should be the one thanking me for my amazing advice.” Armitage chimes in, relaxed expression kept in place while he slightly nudged you in the ribs.

“Was it a joke?” Your face morphing into a shocked amused grin, you turned to him, observing the man momentarily. “Did Armitage Hux just make a joke?” You were not aware that Armitage Hux, the cold hearted redhead, could joke but you liked it and hoped it would stay like this for a while.

“I regret ever interacting with you.” You could see the slight smirk forming on Armitage's face when he spoke, unable to contain it. Since starting working on this project you and Armitage really got close, you would even call him your friend now. Yeah, he was still sometimes a cold prick but you could see the appeal of him. Handsome, smart and very passionate for his work with a decent sense of humor, Armitage Hux was definitely a catch. This project really opened your eyes when it came to him.

“You don’t.” Your elbow met what you firstly assumed would be a bony mass but in reality was well defined muscles under what you deemed was branded suit.

“I do.” He couldn’t fight the smirk off now. It was awfully obvious. The past you would probably be slightly horrified over the thought of Armitage Hux smirking. The picture of it being painted under the impression that he is obviously an evil corporate man. However, seeing him smirk now sparked something completely different in you. The silly picture of an evil man from a cartoon you used to hold in your mind when someone said his name was replaced with a charming looking redhead man in a suit with a warm aura around him.

“Nah.” You felt silly, stupid and giddy over this man and how warm he made you feel even though everyone viewed him as a cold and mean man he never was. “You love it.”

“Yeah, I do.” The stare he gave you made something carnal turn in you, it was not an alien feeling but with Armitage there was a new intensity to it. Red liquid heat pooled inside your belly under his loving gaze.

Oh.

“I-I have to go and- inform the team, you know- so they like- know and- stuff.” You titered a bit, unsure how to continue such a conversation. Did Armitage Hux really make your heart skip a beat now? First he jokes and now he makes your heart flutter, the world truly is full of wonders

“Yeah, totally. I-” He seemed absentminded for a second, something you could hardly ever see on the young team leader’s face. Everyone might talk about his cold attitude but no one could deny how dedicated Armitage was to his work. Even though you weren’t from the same department you knew long before this project presented itself in front of you, that he was the first in the office and also the last one to leave. His workaholism seemed even more prominent with his quick responses to your emails regarding the shared project no matter at which hour you would send them. It was something worth admiring and fearing at the same time. And now you were the one stuck in their mind and still staring at him.

“Hey, would you like- to go for a coffee or something?” His voice cracked in the middle, maybe it was trying to stop him from continuing but he still pushed through, the final bits of courage sending him past the finish line, finally asking.

OH.

“Your proposal is acceptable.” You tried to imitate his voice, those words as a reminder to the conversation you had with him after the first meeting.

“Thank god.” The relief on his face was comforting to see. Armitage was really keen to go out with you and it made you happy beyond anything.

Bonus little bits with Armitage’s POV:

He really hoped he could avoid Ben this morning but luck seemed not to be on his side this time. Armitage and Ben have been friend-workers since they both started in the company. They actually knew each other even before since they both went to the same college. At first they were not awfully close, Ben liked to annoy the fuck out of Armitage while he was trying to enjoy his morning coffee, lunch or evening run. Basically destroying nice things he liked but somehow the two of them stuck together and formed a sort of friendship over some time. That of course didn’t change anything on Ben annoying him with every single ounce he had in himself, which was the exact reason he really wanted to escape him this morning. This perfect late morning, he decided to enjoy himself and to read in bed until it was completely necessary to go to work. He never did that but recent sunshine in his office seemed to brighten his life and mood all the time so why not to enjoy a slow morning, he was after all always on time for 5 years straight now.

Armitage could see Ben towering over the cubicles scattered over the big room on the second floor of the company building. Ben was currently laughing over something some brown haired woman said, Armitage recently learnt her name was Rey and Ben was incredibly fond of her. This information was obviously carefully and pragmatically locked down inside his brain to be used later if the time called for it.

And so Armitage hoped he could silently walk down to his office without Ben annoying him so early in the morning, leaving him to reminisce about what today could bring him, especially if it was in the form of a cute co-leader he recently had the chance to meet. He was wrong, obviously, well not really, but yes, he was wrong.

The young redhead was correct when his thoughts browsed back to you and if you would be as cheerful in his presence as you were yesterday. What he however didn’t mean to summon was not only your attention but also Ben’s.

“Armitage!” And there you were, a sunshine smile and loud voice directing everyone's attention, including Ben’s, to yourself before they turned to see him.

He simply nods in acknowledgement without realizing his face was graced with a slowly spreading smile. Ignoring his previous distaste in morning conversation, giving her a small wave didn’t seem so annoying as greeting Ben.

“Well, well, well, who is trying to sneak by.” God, just his voice could irritate Armitage to death on most days but today it was exceptionally nightmare inducing.

“I wasn’t sneaking by. I was simply walking to my office.” He answers curly, not giving even a glance to Ben, his expression still souring into deadpan one.

“You should take your coffee with some milk, you are awfully bitter in the morning.” Ben sniggers, amused at his joke.

“You're the one who is quite giddy today. Did the board meeting yesterday go that well?” But Armitage is ready to fire back right at him.

“Nah, not really.” This finally got Ben to shut up and Armitage to go about his morning in silence.

******************

“I didn’t think you were the type to go crazy over a woman.” Ben’s laugh is loud and childish, echoing on the open walls of the main hall between offices.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The look he gave to Ben was one of his favorites, offended and beyond believe irritated. It was a perfect illusion for him to uphold, ‘cause in reality Hux’s mind was in a midst of complete panic but still he kept on his killer pace to his office, maybe to lose Ben in the big space where the rest of the desk of their subordinates was located.

How much does he know?

This thought however, stopped Armitage in his walk, contemplating if he should address it more. And finally where he was sure his tongue wouldn’t twist itself in his mouth when he spoke of you, he turned around.

“You talk like a cartoon villain, you know that, right?.” Ben’s tall form was not leaning on the side of one of the tables , his gaze partly fixed at his phone before it’s lifted to assess the redhead’s reaction. It was deliberate, it was all planned out, a humiliating and uncomfortable situation Ben could trap him in easily, to get all the answers he wanted.

Now he knew he couldn’t win against that ridiculous giant, this was always a losing game. If he took it too seriously Ben would admit to only be joking, trying to get a rise out of him, if he continued to ridicule or ignore his questions Ben would only tease him more, a truly lost game in Armitage’s eyes. “God, please go and do your job.” But still he could try to collect any advantage he could get his hands on, the advantage being taking everything and shutting himself in his office until the end of the day.

-collects all his things and gets up to leave

“I am working.” Ben’s cheerful voice still followed him, digging into his back in a teasing manner. “No, You are not!” Armitage was aware how his voice boomed through the office making some employees turn their heads over the ruckus but Ben was quite oblivious to his friend’s voice’s effect. He actually couldn’t help but laugh at his friend for moments still unaware of the attention he was given by his colleagues hidden among the various desks in that room. However, even Ben was deemed to notice the confused look he was given by one of the younger secretaries over the small cubicle wall.

“Sorry.” His hands flew up in an apology or a manner that reminded most of them of surrender, before he decided to lift himself up from the desk and proceed to an elevator. Ben of course caught a glimpse of her, so familiar brown haired woman who was already entering one of the elevators. Feeling his chance, Ben's quick walking, caused by his slight embarrassment from the situation prior, turned into jogging when he thought he was already out of sight for the rest of his colleagues.

“Hi.” The elevator was empty except for the said brown haired woman, she looked pretty, exceptionally pretty. Well, she always looked beautiful and so to level the playing field, Ben put on one of his charming smiles before he glanced her way.

**************************

“You should ask her out.” This was coldly stated in the midst of conversation about going for a drink since both of the men’s projects were going to finish soon. The sentence positively stunning Armitage into a statue with a cold sweat pooling slowly down his back while his dark haired counterpart continued to munch on his sandwich.

“Ask her out or I will.” This time those words were slurred between Ben finishing the prelast bite and attempting to stuff the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. Ben’s tall form was stashed between the seating area and one of the tables, he was crunched over but no one of it helped to not make him stand out in the crowd of eating people with his broad shoulders. Ben always towered over everyone, except over Phasma from accounting actually, but everyone else was a victim to his high stature. It was almost comical just as his words. Still, Armitage fumbled with his hands, dropping from one the document he was reading while not being able to control the other, his grip on the sandwich slipping until it unceremoniously slammed in his lap and into the napkin he thankfully unfolded on it.

“What?“

“Ask her out or I-”“I heard you the first time.” Ben was used to Armitage’s cruel remarks or even interruptions but this was the first time he did so with such a vigor.

“Why did you ask then?” There was a knowing smirk painted on his lips, the redhead falling into his trap one more time.

“I know you won’t ask her out.” This confused Ben greatly. What did he mean? The dark haired man adored teasing his pale friend on a daily basis but it was almost unheard of Armitage opposing him. He did attempt to oppose several times and it was not exactly as playful as Ben wished for, usually it consisted of Hux reminding him to get back to work and where is the fun in that? But this time, this time Armitage had something on Ben and he absolutely didn’t like it.

“Rey wouldn’t like that, would she now?” What was left of the knowing smirk on Ben’s face disappeared seconds after those words were muttered into the air between the two men. This time it was Ben who was left with red cheeks and ears, absolutely flabbergasted and fumbling hands with the wrappers of his now gone lunch.

************************

Armitage didn’t even realize how organized you were but now that he had the chance to see inside your office he was lost for words. Who would have thought someone like you would have neatly organized folders with color marked projects and spreadsheets for time management not only for your team but your work.

“You are awfully organized.” He truly was in awe at how your space looked.

“Thanks?”

“I expected to find a battlefield in your office but it’s- surprisingly tiddy?” He didn’t mean tiddy, he meant a perfect, absolutely and adoringly perfect environment for him to exist, something that almost seems to be made just for him.

“That’s kinda rude, Armitage.” He was not known for making a lot of people laugh, maybe Ben but it was more of a laugh at his own account, with you it was somehow ridiculously easy, apparently.

“I was complimenting you.” He objects, trying to defend his honor, it was not in his intentions to come off as rude as it might have seemed.

“Sure.”

Again with the laugh.

“You should take it as a compliment. Organized people are h-,” he paused, gulping down his words until it weighed heavy in his stomach,”good.”

“Good?” There was a suspicious smirk playing on your lips as if you knew what he wanted to say but Armitage almost sure you had no clue, you simply wanted to tease him a bit more.

But God, what if you did catch his misstep? No, surely you didn’t. He gave you one more questioning look to make sure you were none the wiser.

“Yes.” He had to clear his throat, to compose himself a bit by bit but there was an unbearable weight at his chest, almost too consuming. “For business. Organized people are known to be very reliable and hardworking employees.”

Yes, good. They are good. I totally didn’t mean hot. Because organized women are totally not absolutely hot. And I totally just didn’t realize it’s a thing for me. Ha ha. Please, act normal.

Armitage’s brain must have looked like a scrambled egg now, trying to unravel all his thoughts into a coherent solid state so he could function properly while unsuccessfully avoiding all his thoughts involving you and this office.

“Found it.” You held up a blue folder with a little yellow sticky note poking out of the main pages.

Oh, yes, the scripts for the main document, that’s what brought the two of you inside your office. That’s why he was now stuck between walls adored with shelves upon which sat dozens of cute plants. A complete opposite of his office but very cozy, it was obvious you decorated the room with a clear idea of making it a positive and comfortable environment. The purple sofa in the corner ideal for-

Yep, Armitage was fully aware he was fucked.

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x reader au #office au #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #domhnall gleeson x reader #general hux x reader #isa writes #reylo #ben solo #rey and ben solo

83 notes · View notes

master-kohga-dating-sim · 7 months ago

Text

Faces Of Eons

more for Sakiru, this is kind of a follow up to Return. here we have Sakiru meeting the main silly guys of the AU :3

(for @bugger-loz's dungeon boss AU, Dark Disciples)

Word count: 1268 Characters: Sakiru, Astor, Original characters (the blights and temple bosses), Kohga and Sooga (briefly) Warnings: None

The four stood there in silence, facing Sakiru and the apostle with exaggerated expressions ranging from bewilderment to annoyance. Not knowing what to say, Sakiru stood there and studied their features.

There weren't many collective similarities between them. They were all different shapes and species- a thin and lanky gerudo who appeared to be a man, A built and stocky goron, a tall-statured zora, and a barrel-chested rito. All of them were flicking their eyes between Sakiru and the robed man.

After a minute of silence, the apostle spoke. “I told you that the Demon King’s alchemist turned himself into a construct.”

“I… guess that is a construct… but you at least could’ve told us what that meant! We weren’t exactly expecting a full on robot, ya know?” “What were you expecting?” He threw their hands in the air. “I don’t know, but it damn well wasn’t that!”

The apostle sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Enough. The point is that he’s here now. You may call him Sakiru. That was the name that he took in life.”

“Sakiru,” The rito murmured under his breath.

The apostle turned his head to Sakiru. “I wanted you to meet these people. These are the ones who call themselves The Blights, followers of Calamity Ganon. Each of them serve as their respective element.”

He gestured to all of them, one by one. First the gerudo. “Raedihn is the blight of thunder.” The rito. “Thyelli is the blight of the winds.” The zora. “Ahvesus is the blight of the waters.” The goron. “And finally, Kohlasi is the blight of fire.” He crossed his arm over his chest and bowed. “I am the prophet of doom. You may call me Astor.”

Sakiru looked from Astor to the blights. “...That’s not all of them. What do you mean?”

Astor stood up from his bow, masking his confusion with false confidence. “I assure you, that is all four of them. Each counteracts a certain person, a general in our enemy’s army. Every single one is accounted for.”

“But what of light? What of spirit?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but he still kept some of that confusion. “You’ve been down there quite a while, you must not be up to speed. There is no ‘spirit’ that you speak of. The light, Princess Zelda, is opposed by the calamity itself.”

Before Sakiru could ask any questions, Ahvesus cut through with a sarcastic laugh. “Look, prophecy man. We don’t have all day. This isn’t exactly, you know, time for a little history lesson.” They hissed that part through gritted teeth. “So can we please get to the point?”

Astor nodded. “Of course. Right this way, Sakiru.”

He opened the wooden doors and let them out. The quiet of the room they were in seemed infectious, the bustle of the outside going silent in nearly a second. The strange masked men clothed in red suits stared at them and shuffled out of their way to clear a path.

While they walked, Sakiru perked his mechanical ears up. He noticed two men in the crowd: one of them significantly taller than the rest of them, the other jumping around and waving his arms in the air. “Sooga, lift me up! I wanna see em!”

The tall man named Sooga picked him up by the armpits and lifted him to about the height of his chest. The other man, wearing a more extravagant mask and noticeably more stout than the others, put a hand at his forehead to shield his eyes from sunlight that wasn’t in the underground hideout. “Woah! What in Ganon’s name is that? Is that the alchemist guy that Astor was talking about?”

The man stopped speaking and demanded to be let down when Sakiru looked at him. Before he could fully squirm out of his position, they entered the next room.

Just like the one that they met in, this room had no masked men in it. There were three mounds of blankets and cushions, along with a wooden tub of water clearly separated from the fabrics. As they walked in, Astor jingled the jewelry in his hair.

The four beings in the room perked up, intrigued by the noise. They were… babies. A gerudo girl, a goron pebble, a zora fry, and a rito hatchling. They crawled a little closer to Sakiru. Fascinated, but wary of danger.

The Blights looked at each other and waited for one of them to say something. Thyelli took that responsibility. “...These are our children,” she said. “Moruka, Gohrra, Gyba, and my son, Colgheri. You… can imagine why this is so important to us.”

“I see…” Sakiru rasped as he kneeled down. Gyba got a little closer and reached out. Her little fingers grasped one of the zonaite prongs at the end of his arm. She giggled as he raised his hand a little bit, lifting her a few inches off the ground.

The other kids joined their friend to meet the newcomer. Ahvesus picked up their child as they waddled over. “This is war. If anything goes wrong… yeah, not risking it. We can’t fight and take care of them at the same time.”

“What about these masked men? There’s plenty of them.”

Astor scoffed. “Sakiru, let’s just say that I wouldn’t trust those buffoons with a dog, much less children. The Yiga are a bad influence, and I doubt they’d feed them anything but bananas. We only work with them out of necessity.”

Ahvesus wiped off a bit of water that Moruka spit in their face. “We need our futures and legacies to be protected, unless the calamity doesn’t go entirely to plan. Since you have no counterpart, could we rely on you?” Sakiru picked Gohrra off of the floating pieces of his arms. “For fellow disciples of darkness, I will do what I can.”

“What do you mean, ‘no spirit’? What happened to the fifth sage?”

Astor and Sakiru were alone now in the quiet of the night. Everyone else had gone to bed. The only sound accompanying them was the wildlife in the highlands.

“I found out about you through the stone archives in the temples I’ve unearthed. I’ve seen depictions of the ‘sages’ you speak of, but I assure you that there were only four. Perhaps something has been lost to time.”

“But you spoke of Princess Zelda, I remember her… It can’t have been that long.”

“Interesting. It seems there really is more going on here than I imagined…” He turned back to him. “But it really has been that long. Based on the age of the archives, you’ve been in that temple for at least ten thousand years.”

“T- ten… ten thousand years…”

Sakiru couldn’t move his arms. His whole body seized up. His heart stopped beating in its jar.

“It’s a lot to take in, but-”

He cut Astor off. “Ten thousand years…! Ten thousand-! TEN THOUSAND YEARS!”

And with that, he threw his glass head back and looked up towards the sky. From his jaws, brought from the air itself, he let forth a cackle like he had never laughed before. Such a deep and throaty noise that didn’t travel through his severed neck, not coming from jarred lungs that never filled with air to create it. All through the night, he laughed and laughed up towards a sky full of stars that he didn’t recognize anymore.

Rauru was dead. Mineru was dead. Every single hylian under their command was now the dirt that his zonai feet walked upon. It didn’t matter. He did it.

He was immortal.

#legend of zelda #loz au #totk au #yiga clan #zonai oc #astor aoc #fanfiction #fanfic #sakiru the alchemist

12 notes · View notes

eesirachs · 11 months ago

Note

Why do you think the biblical god always chose men. Why is it that we get such a small handful of women who really had a story in the bible. Is it favouritism? To whom anyway, isn't it safer not to be picked by god? Men dropping left and right while the women watch, silent, unnamed, anonymous. Unseen? Forgotten?

Anyway, thoughts?

i don't see this god always choosing men. i see prophetesses chosen by god. i see prophetesses feared by him: they have power that rivals his. they do resurrections, they trap souls. i see judges raised by god. i see this god sitting with women as they fall victim to bans, as they benefit from bans. god sits with queens, with mothers. god has a womb, is a womb. i am thinking of ruth, naomi, deborah, jael, rachel and leah, not-adam/eve, bathsheba. on and on, this god is and has a matrix. women, in the hebrew bible, have phalli, have prophetic dreams. women do sign-acts, speak god's word.

it is true that in this ancient world, the category of woman was fraught, and sexual difference itself a leaky signifier. patrilineality prevailed and violence was done unto and across the feminine body. but this god does not watch idly as it happens. this god won't let us colonize the text with our frameworks, even and including those of sex. this god is dis-membered just as the non-con of judges 19 is. this god loses her children to sacrifice. this god is a sacrifice—a young female one. but 'female' isn't right here, is it, because this god creates in (or, indeed, gives-birth through) a rubric of difference that elides two-sexes. this god's breasts pang after a still-birth. this god is barren and lamenting it. this god is dying in the wilderness with her sisters, with you

#ask #the ancient world did not have a two sex system we cannot read sexism into it #we also should read the hb very carefully bc there is so much femininity here

36 notes · View notes

simplegenius042 · 1 year ago

Text

WIP Wednesday and Last Line Paragraph + Music Monday

Tagged by @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @inafieldofdaisies @josephseedismyfather and @socially-awkward-skeleton

Tagging @shallow-gravy @strangefable @strafethesesinners @deputy-morgan-malone @derelictheretic @wrathfulrook @voidika @onehornedbeast @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @neverthesameneveranother @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @chazz-anova @a-rose-in-a-garden-of-weeds @snake-in-the-garden @jillvalentinesday @minilev @g0dspeeed @ec-10 @henbased @inafieldofdaisies @ladyoriza and @nightbloodbix

[Update: If anyone saw an @ for ladyofeden’s-blog on this it’s because this WIP was made before the thieves had been exposed. I only just realised her former blog was on it and now has been taken off]

Here's two WIPs (well one WIP + a last line) for Silva's Hope and The True Sinners from Far Cry The Silver Chronicles PLUS some music.

Here's Silva's introduction to Jacob's right-hand man, Alexander Khaos in Silva's Hope. Also Jess is here. Reminder that this is still under a lot of work, so this scene may or may not change in the near future. Enjoy the snippet below:

Silva stood up, giving the Whitetail corpse one last glance up and down, turning to face Jess.

Bow and arrow still in hand, but her focus shifted from the foliage to the deputy, the young and vengeful huntress regarded her with little more than pursed lips and a raised brow as she jerked her head over to the unfortunate Whitetail.

"Is he the one Eli is searching for?" she questioned, looking the mutilated corpse up and down, not batting an eye at the dried blood that soaked the Whitetail.

Silva herself kept a steady face, though the desire to show her disgust towards the barbaric display was no less prevalent. It reminded her of the methods of executions back on the Archipelagos; needlessly cruel to send a message.

"Yeah, he fits the description Eli gave," she looked over to the corpse once more, frown unseen by Jess, "At least from what I can discern."

"You see what we mean now? Jacob's a sick fuck, much like the rest of his asshole siblings," Jess spat out, sneering at the display, "They preach about how they want to "save" people and "free" us from our so called sins. Then they go an pull shit like this, or worse, let psychopaths like the Cook burn families alive. Fucking liars."

Something they have in common with the Congregation, Silva noted, remembering all the propaganda that spewed out the need of servitude and duty of men and women, all strewn around the Overcity and the Minas, all brushing aside the rampant beatings, false persecution and execution of Tumultites and sympathizers alike.

It seemed the more time she spent here, the more unpleasant Joseph and his cult became. She wondered how long it would take until she discovered something truly unacceptable. Would it make a difference if she called Joseph out on it? Probably not, she reasoned, Prophets are only focused on the glory they get from preaching "God's Will". Anything else is just a means to get to that end.

She exhaled roughly, dashing away further thought as her left arm ached. Though her rescue from John's envoy thanks to Jerome was only a couple days ago, the aches from the crash did not cease, her left arm feeling the worst. Her right arm was more lucky, thankfully.

Kamski's scolding was still fresh on her mind. If it was up to him, he would have locked them both in his clinic while the war raged on. Sedate her if he had to. But both knew that as long as one of her limbs was not too damaged, she would still go on to fight.

What a miracle her right arm was just as good with a gun as her left.

"We should head back. Eli and Wheaty would want the news-"

An arrow cut past Jess' hood and struck Silva in the leg. The Deputy could only stare at the arrow protruding from her leg, and looked to the trees.

She noticed movement from the branches and pointed them out to Jess as she tried to call out. But her voice slurred, no coherent word coming out right, and the familiar sparkles that belonged to Bliss engulfed her vision.

Jess had turned her back to face the trees, bow and arrow at the ready, though Silva stumbled and fell onto her back as the world diluted into a realm of colors and butterflies.

She could barely hear what Jess was shouting, though a massive thud that sounded like an earthquake shook the Earth gave her most coherent thoughts an indication that her companion was out of commission.

Still fighting for consciousness, Silva heard the echoes of crunched leaves and commands.

Above her, a new figure looked down on her, a man with brown hair and dark hazel eyes with flecks of gray. His attire was that of which the Chosen wore, though he lacked the red hood, and his vest shirt was black, with his sleeveless overcoat a dark gray. He smirked, shaking his head as he spoke.

"Salutations to you Deputy, you were quite a struggle to find," he greeted, his imitation of a southern accent quite noticeable even when Blissed, "Thankfully Eli just couldn't let go of a chance to rescue one of his own. Don't worry, that fella was dead before we hacked up his corpse. Unpleasant work but it needed to attract your attention."

He knelt down get a closer look at her, his fingers tracing stroking the healed scratches on her cheek. She shuddered involuntarily from the contact, which felt numb and yet made her stomach recoil from the cold in his hands. He stopped his inspection upon noticing this, eyes softening before becoming stoic once more, thankfully retracting his hand.

"I'm surprised you're still conscious. By now most would have succumbed to the Bliss, which I'm sure you will shortly. Some tolerance you have there," he kept his eyes on her, chewing on his lower lip as he pondered, curiosity clearly piqued, "I'm sure Jacob will be pleased to know."

Silva tried to reply, tell this Chosen to go "fuck off" or some variation, but her tongue felt like weight on her mouth, and her eyes started to shut as the sky got brighter.

The Chosen watched this, his smirk returning as he stood up, then groaned as softly smacked his head, "Forgotten my manners yet again! Now, you better remember this, Deputy, because you're going to see me a lot more than you think. Name's Alexander Khaos."

"And Jacob's been dying for a talk with ya," Alexander's distorted voice revealed as Silva's thoughts were shrouded in the desire to close her eyes. And she found no reason to protest any longer as darkness started to consume her vision.

Here's a Last Paragraph for The True Sinners. View the start of a terrible beautiful friendship between Kamski and Tammy. Paragraph(s) below.

[Kamski] leaned over the small kiddie pool, the water slightly tinted pink from whatever blood managed to get into the water. Untied rope still tethered to the pool's edge, likely to be used to tie prisoner's feet into the water. A wooden chair stood strong in the middle, though Kamski would have preferred it to be something stronger... like metal. Though wood was a step up from plastic. The unused ECT device on the table caught his attention, the face cloth that laid next to it. Tammy stared at him from the doorway, arms crossed as she inspected his movements.

Weary, ruthless and not afraid to get dirty? Where was she on the archipelagos? Kamski thought to himself, thoroughly impressed with her station. Turning to her, he questioned with amusement, "A kiddie pool?"

Tammy blinked at him, unbothered by the question, just shrugged with undeterred confidence. Kamski snorted, and looked back to the what was essentially a large plastic tub. "Quite a humiliating way to go... more than I could ever do back in my homeland anyway," he commented in praise, envisioning an Enforcer tied the very chair Kamski stared at, face covered with a wet cloth as he screamed from the shocks coursing throughout his body. Begging right up until he was completely fried. Oh, what Kamski would have traded to see Lapis in such a state.

And lastly a song for Far Cry The Silver Chronicles. A rather sensual one between John Seed and Nadi Sinclair.

youtube

"Use the sleeves on my sweater Let's have an adventure Head in the clouds but my gravity's centered Touch my neck and I'll touch yours You in those little high-waisted shorts, oh

She knows what I think about And what I think about One love, two mouths One love, one house No shirt, no blouse Just us, you find out Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no Cause it's too cold, for you here and now So let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater

And if I may just take your breath away I don't mind if there's not much to say Sometimes the silence guides our minds To move to a place so far away The goosebumps start to raise The minute that my left hand meets your waist And then I watch your face Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love the taste, yeah These hearts adore Everyone the other beats hardest for Inside this place is warm Outside it starts to pour

Coming down One love, two mouths One love, one house No shirt, no blouse Just us, you find out Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no, no, no Cause it's too cold, for you here and now So let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater.

Cause it's too cold, for you here and now So let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater.

Whoa."

#far cry the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #wip wednesday #music monday #last line tag #catching up on all of these lol #wip: silva's hope #oc: silva omar #jess black #oc: alexander khaos #wip: the true sinners #oc: kamski neon #tammy barnes #john seed #oc: nadi sinclair #otp: the baptist and the quokka #ship: john seed x nadi sinclair #kamski is not above committing war crimes especially if it is towards those he dislikes #unfortunately silva isn't there to keep him from doing illegal shit #major differences between silva and kamski working with the resistance? morality and tolerance with eden's gate' bullshit #he also doesn't have much compassion for the peggies believing they chose their paths #while silva can empathize with the peggies because she too was devoted to a prophet who only SAID he had her best intentions in mind #when in actuality adam was an irredeemable bastard using her for his own pleasures #and alexander in the first wip has clearly caught notice of one of the effects that adam's actions had on silva

19 notes · View notes

madamlaydebug · 1 year ago

Text

So what is this 144,000? Who are they? I don’t actually think there’s a single answer to this but I do believe I’ve found one of them. Since the Bible, and the book of the Unveiling especially, speaks in symbol and allegory it’s only fair to say there are many possibilities to it’s real meaning. I’d say that the orthodox “understanding” of the book is the one that’s most incorrect. We’ll get into more of that later.

So let’s get to it. Most folks have heard of Chakras. If you haven’t, I strongly encourage you to do some homework. They’re basically where the universal life force energy plugs into your body. Whirling vortices of energy at specific vibrations are channeled into your vital systems via these nerve centers. When there’s a blockage, disease manifests. It’s really fascinating stuff. Anyway, these energy centers are represented by different stages of the lotus flower, which is itself a symbol of purity of the body. Here are the chakras and their corresponding lotus blossoms:

Making reference to the 144000 sealed men whose speaks in the Revelation (Apocalypse), this number is that of the election, 12, carried to its paroxysm: 12 x 12 x 1000, where 1000 is a coefficient of the immensity. In others words, this number indicates that all the elects, without exception, are kept under the protection of God.

Bible

Number of sealed or elected of all the tribes of Israel, marked of the seal of God. (Rv 7,1)

General

The 144000 petals of the main chakra or coronal (located to the summit of the cranium) represent the 144000 rays of light originated from all the seven chakras, or centers of energy of the body, deployed and balanced, or again the 144000 vibrations of the divine Creation which travel in the cosmos and that are source of life.

In the Gospel of Barnabe, chapter 17, it is written: "144000 prophets that God sent to the world, have spoken obscurely; but after me will come the splendor of all prophets and saint; he will illuminate the darkness of whole what have told the prophets, because it is the messenger of God". Some have seen in this passage an allusion to Muhammad, "The Seal of prophets" (Koran XXX, 40).

When we add the number of petals of the five inferior psychic centers, we obtain a total of 48 petals. By adding 96 petals of the frontal center (the place of the third eye where the small number must receive its divine mark), we obtain the number 144, symbol of the perfect and expressed spiritual work, that is to say of the marriage between the soul and the personality. If now we multiply 144 by the thousand petals of the coronal center, we obtain 144000, the number of the elects, who will be all these that will have waked up in them the seven stars or spiritual and psychic centers.

John Phaure advances two mathematics divisions which, according to him, are very revealing. As numbers he uses the 144000 servants of God "marked to the front", the number of the Beast, 666 and 216, a fundamental cyclic and cabalistic number (tenth of the one Era: 2160 / 10) that he interprets as one of figures of the Christ:

144 000 / 216 = 666 with a rest of 144

144 000 / 666 = 216 with a rest of 144

These results express according to him that the 144000 "marked" as servants of God before the advent the Antichrist are here the object of the eschatologic combat between the Christ and his Adversary. From this combat leaves "the rest": 144, those who will be the Elects of the celestial Jerusalem". He points out moreover than 666 + 144 = 810, numerical value of the Greek word Parakletos, the Paraclete. Thus the Holy Spirit espressed at the end of time "will be the 'glorificater' of the Creation".

By using the pyramidal inch, the external volume of the tomb of the Room of the King in the Great Pyramid gives 144000 cubic inches. The pyramidal inch measures 25.303 mm. By using this unit of measure, the pyramid would have a height of 5800 inches and a volume of 160 billion cubic inches, giving all numbers without decimal.

The external recovery of the Great Pyramid would be made of 144000 stones.

Occurrence

The number 144000 is used 3 times in the Bible.

-Thank you Paul

28 notes · View notes

goroaix · 6 months ago

Text

Heavenly rains submerge: the heart wilts

Lee Hoseok x Fem Reader x Lee Ten

Superhero/abilities AU. Angst and slowburn with a happy ending

Explicit gore and depictions of violence; dementia mention; self endangerment

23k as of chapter 1/3

『 One might argue that there is little difference between a hero and a civilian: bravery, hubris, perhaps loyalty. Could a Ren breathe in this foul odour, tolerate how his words - once prophetic - were now nothing more than heresay? Could a civilian listen to inaudible whispers, feel the sting of his teeth breaking skin? Did it really matter when it all bled into one? 』

A two for one deal on broccoli, or another pack of prime rib?

This was the decision currently plaguing Hoseok’s mind as he stood in the middle of the fresh meat aisle, eyes glossing over the red cuts of beef that lay on the shelf in neat patterns - the dates and times letting him know that they had been stocked less than an hour ago.

Ugh.

If he bought the broccoli, he’d be getting his vitamins in, as well as his five a day. Yet his gaze wandered back to the pristine cuts. They were lean, the fat cap minimal and it was the perfect size to last a few dinners.

Pick me, it called.

Choose me, it begged.

Love m-

“Are you okay?”

Hoseok turned his head, ears quickly becoming warm as he cleared his throat into his fist. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at his own mundane musings. “I’m fine. You?”

“You’re staring at the beef,” his friend said, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she regarded him. “In a way that’s not normal.” She added.

“Is there a normal way to stare at beef?” Came Hoseok’s quick rebuttal but, of course, he was no match for her.

“Yes, and you’re not doing that. It seems like lust.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It’s like she purposely found the most outrageous thing to say even in the most normal of situations. How could someone look at beef with lust of all things?

The scoff that escaped him came from deep within his chest, punctuated by his arms crossing over his chest. “Should you be saying these things to a customer?”

“Depends,” she replied, tapping her name tag out of habit and he read it despite himself - counting out each syllable in his head, “does the customer want discounted sirloin?”

Now she was talking, and it wasn’t nonsense for once. “You have some? I was looking earlier and I couldn’t find anything.”

Her smile was coy, not quite at its full potential but he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Not in plain sight. You know that Seojun guy?”

“The one who drank your peach tea?” Hoseok asked, vaguely recalling this name and character from one of her abundant stories about her coworkers.

“Yeah. Him”-she looked around for a moment- “he hid some to take to his family when his shift was over. But fuck those kids, you know? They don’t need three sirloins, especially not when their daddy is a thief.”

“...Right.” No matter how hard he tried to school his expression into something serious, he just couldn’t. “How much is it?

“You’re not going to tell me how immoral that is?”

“He was immoral first. Two sirloins is enough to feed the family.”

Her smile widened and held up her finger, motioning him to wait before she disappeare around a corner that was definitely not in the meat aisle. Had Seojun hidden it in another freezer section? What a cheeky man! He thought.

For a few minutes, he was left to stand there with one hand on the shopping trolley and the other on his hip. This store was one he visited frequently because of how close it was to his place, and also that he could weasel his way into various discounts using his friend’s employee status. It was also big enough that he never needed to go anywhere else after. He was all too familiar with the plain white walls and different aisles.

Then, she came back with a deliciously large slab of meat and a pretty yellow sticker that said exactly what he needed it to: reduced.

“Here you go.”

It was handed over, cradled in Hoseok’s arms before he set it down tenderly into the trolley with her watching his every move. “Thank you. I was stuck between broccoli or more meat.”

“No problem, but, um, why not just get both? The broccoli has a deal on.”

“I want to stay on budget,” he replied, shrugging and she suddenly laughed, confusing him. “What’s funny?”

“The budget fits two cuts of beef but not broccoli?”

The red on his ears returned tenfold. “I have vegetables at home.”

“Mm. That's what they all say.”

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Hoseok asked, tempted to push his trolley towards her and see if he could run it over her croc's covered feet. He decided against it. “One that doesn’t involve judging my shopping?”

“No, actually. This is customer service.” She moved to the shelves, picking up an item that was in the wrong place and moving it over. “Come here, it makes it look like I’m helping you with something.”

Hoseok obliged - but not without an eyeroll.

“How much protein do you have in a day?”

“Around 200-300g depending on the day, why? You interested in building muscle?"

“Kind of. I think my days of eating pudding for breakfast are over,” she mused, looking at the gravy sachet in her hand before putting it away.

The constant background noise of the freezers filled the air, humming quietly behind them as an elderly woman shuffled past them in the aisles. For a moment, she peered at both of them before turning away to examine the poultry. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little sweet treat in the morning. You look pretty healthy as you are, anyway.”

“Maybe right now, but I don’t think my arteries will thank me for it in the future.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “you’re right. If you need any help with a meal plan, just let me know and I’ll help you out.”

At this, she smiled, a hand moving to the end of the trolly with her fingers wrapping around the metal hatching. “I’d ask for your workout routine, but I think I’d collapse from heart failure.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Your bicep is the size of a newborn. But, yeah, if it’s not too much trouble?”

Even if it was a little bit of trouble, Hoseok would have readily and willingly drafted out a fitness plan for her - if she asked, of course.

She let go of the trolley. “Okay, I need to go now. I can feel my manager getting pissed at me for taking too long. I’ll talk to you later?”

He nodded. “We’ll talk later. When do you finish?”

“In 5 hours. I started an hour ago.”

“They reduced your hours again?”

This time, her expression was more like a grimace than anything humorous, her nod stilted and rather annoyed. Don’t ask me about it right now, it said, and Hoseok was wise enough to heed that warning.

“Okay, bye.” He nodded his head, reversing out of the aisle with his tolley.

“Bye bye.”

And, just as he left the aisle, he saw someone approaching her, their head of shaggy black hair glistening under the phospholorescent lights and their voices falling just short of his ears.

Hoseok turned away, ready to pay for his items and get out of there.

Read the rest on AO3

#nct x reader #wayv x reader #monsta x x reader #wonho x reader #wayv imagines #nct imagines #ten x reader #ten scenarios #ten imagines #ten angst #wonho angst #wonho fluff #monsta x fluff #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #nct fanfic

12 notes · View notes

send-up-my-heart-to-you · 8 months ago

Note

Do you have a favorite passage of the Quran?

i dont have favorite passages as much as i have favorite ayat (verses)

so, surely with hardship comes ease.

Surely with ˹that˺ hardship comes ˹more˺ ease

these two verses from 94:5-6 has helped me calm down more than you can imagine. i cant explain the calming effect that remembering these two has on me.

do not let their words grieve you.

as someone who got bullied, 10:65 helped a lot.

Allah is the Guardian of the believers—He brings them out of darkness and into light.

this is 2:257 and also rlly comforted me

then this one is kinda different:

and We have put a barrier before them and a barrier behind them, and have covered them up, so they are unable to see.

(side note: the "we" here is the royal we, just in case thats confusing lol)

this is a verse that protected muhammad pbuh from being killed when he was fleeing mecca, and it has protected me from my parents. whenever i notice my parents starting to get angry and i get scared, i just whisper this verse (but in arabic – this is the pronunciation if anyone at all wants it) and they always, always get distracted. either my brothers start fighting and my mom has to attend to them, or my dad gets a phone call from work, i swear it works (for me at least). its become my mantra atp <3

oh and theres one more; the entire surah (chapter) of ad-duha (the morning hours). this ones a long story

abt a year ago (back when i was at the lowest point of my life, sh'ing, having regular panic attacks at school) i dreamt of being in a cave, and there was an old man with a long white beard wearing a thobe next to me, but he was focused on something and mumbling to himself. i focused and i saw he was compiling the quran into a book, and i looked in front of me and i saw scattered pages of the quran. i started compiling it with him, but it kinda compiled itself and then flipped open to a random page, which was open to ad-duha

for reference, ad-duha is short, so this is what it looked like:

its that big block in the middle, it fits comfortably on a single page with room for other chapters above and below.

so i told this dream to my moms friend whos good at interpreting dreams, and she told me to read the surah. so i did.

this surah came down on the prophet pbuh in a low point in his life when he thought he was abandoned by god bc he hadnt received any messages from the angel gabriel in over six months. in this short 11-verse chapter, here are a few of the verses:

Your Lord has not abandoned you, nor has He become hateful ˹of you˺. (verse 3)

And the next life is certainly far better for you than this one. (verse 4)

And ˹surely˺ your Lord will give so much to you that you will be pleased. (verse 5)

Did He not find you unguided then guided you? (verse 7)

i cannot explain the feeling i got when i read these verses. i cannot properly formulate into words the effect that reading this had on me.

keep in mind, this surah is taught to us as children bc its short. ages 8 and below. i had memorized this long ago but i never really focused on the words? cause its classical arabic, which is largely different from my dialect of arabic, so mostly i know the words but not their meanings iykwim. like i know the word "qala" but i dont know what it means.

so i dont think it was my mind grasping for things of comfort in order to make me feel better; i didnt know that this surah was meant to be reassuring until after the dream.

to this day, i read it whenever i feel kinda low<3

#now that i think abt it #a lot of these are comforting #maybe its bc im usually the one who does the comforting #so its nice having something / someone comfort ME for a change #quran #holy quran #quran kareem #quran ayah #prophet muhammad #muslim #islam #islamicpost #allah #islamic #allahswt #quran quotes #quran translation

18 notes · View notes

ananke-xiii · 2 months ago

Text

Missing Mothers and Missed Opportunities

Or: There can be three, four fathers in this show but there can only be one mother (and she doesn’t even want to be there, lol)!

One way that I like to see the first episodes of s13 is focusing on missed opportunities. Sam’s mind is in the past, he is very much ruminating about his missed opportunity with his mother while Dean’s mind is in the future as he is trying to deal with the fact that Cas is dead (although, to be honest, I think Cas’s death is a catalyst for Dean's much deeper issues related to his identity. As I’ve already said, in s12 Dean was in the process of understanding who he was regardless of his relationships and while he had some sort of reconciliation with Mary, he didn’t have any with Cas).

It’s no wonder, then, that Sam thinks that Cas and Mary might still be alive while Dean doesn’t. In Supernatural the past can come back and if it’s come back once why can’t it come back again? Past is hope. The future, however, is always “doom and gloom” in this series, it’s apocalypses, it’s “it ends bad, it ends bloody”, it is, in other words, super pessimistic. And “The Future” is impersonated in Jack and in the visions of the future he transmitted to Castiel which Dean blames for his death.

Sam is smart but it doesn’t take a genius to understand that if Jack has opened the rift once he might be able to open it again. Therefore, Sam sees in Jack an opportunity: if Jack can control and manage his powers he might open the rift again and Sam could get his mother back. What’s more, he also starts to see (what he thinks he’s) himself in Jack.

Dean: I told him the truth. See, you think you can use this freak but I know how this ends and it ends bad. Sam: I didn’t. Dean: What? Sam: I didn’t ‘end bad’. When I was the freak, when I was drinking demon blood. Dean: Come on man, that’s totally different. Sam: Was it? Because you could’ve put a bullet in me. Dad told you to put a bullet in me, but you didn’t! You saved me! So help me save him! Dean: You deserved to be saved, he doesn’t! Sam: Yes he does, Dean, of course he does!

The “What?” shows how the two are talking about completely different things. Maybe it was the word “freak” that triggered Sam, however I tend to agree with Dean here: Sam and Jack are not “totally different” but they are different. What I disagree with is when Dean says that Jack doesn’t deserve to be saved (Dean, Dean, Dean… you, just like everybody else, don’t need to “de-serve” anything. I swear to God the day we realize what the words we use actually mean maybe the world will really start changing). Because the thing is that Jack doesn’t need to be saved. He’s not a human who drank demon blood for what he thought was “the greater good” but turned out to be the beginning of his end. He was not part of a gigantic, messy, blatant scam involving Heaven and Hell. Jack’s partially the result of both Lucifer’s delusions of grandeur regarding Creation and Kelly’s conservative and dreamy desire to have a baby with the President of the USA (he was never gonna put any ring on it, girl and you knew it. Btw, Kelly is the baby-trapper in this story and no one else, I won’t change my mind ever), but he is nevertheless one of the most powerful beings in all existence. I honestly think that the only character who has ever understood Jack was Donatello.

Donatello: Oh. Speaking not as a prophet but as a scientist, I don’t think teaching him is in the cards. It’s like asking a lion not to be a lion. Sam: But this is not a lion! This is a human! Donatello: With a strong dose of God juice.

It’s not a strong dose of demon blood, Sam. It’s God juice, okay? LOL. Anyway, Donatello is super on point here: Jack is human and not-human. He’s a living aporia, the character where all the false dichotomies of the series show their fallacies. He’s “both… and” incarnated. He’s born and he’s already in his 20s. He’s a child and he’s a not-child. He has an age and he’s without age. Nobody will ever come close to understanding him if they cling close to a “black or white, good or evil” mentality. And this is why the show totally failed (for me) in s14 and how Sam is also failing here because he projects his own (respectable and very real) Lucifer-related issues with evilness onto Jack. Jack is beyond “good and evil” because he’s both human and angel, he embodies two different moralities and also transcends both of them because he’s neither only human nor only angel. To sum up, I don’t think that Supernatural, with its structure and its specific morality, could have handled a character like Jack. And this is why the show has to de-power him, de-soul him, make him die and resurrect etc.

Back to Sam and his failings. He projects his own stuff onto Jack, he wants to use him as a “can-opener”, he thinks Jack can be saved from “evil” because he can teach him. My question is: how much can Sam be negatively judged for these actions? My answer is: not so much.

As far as projections go, this is what he’s been doing from S1. Per SPN structure, both Sam and Dean have been projecting and identifying their issues onto the monsters of the weeks for 15 seasons. Jack is just the “Monster of the Season”. Projection and identification, identification and projection… I mean, this is what the show is about. If all of sudden Sam had woken up and miraculously solved all his identity-related issues the show would have been over.

As far as the utilitarian aspect goes, Sam has actually made some progress here. He “only” surveils Jack via cameras and tries to convince him to do some stupid exercises with a pencil. Previously on Supernatural Sam had literally enslaved, chained and imprisoned the people/creatures he wanted to use. These kids, they grow up so fast :”).

As far as the “do no evil” teaching goes, now here’s what’s really interesting to me.

The episode is “The Rising Son” and Sam’s passionate plea for Jack’s goodness via his teachings is paralleled to Asmodeus’s attempt at locating Jack in order to find him and harness his “timeless knowledge and unschooled power”. Asmodeus acts like Lucifer acted with Sam in S11 in that he pushes Jack to open up the earth “for God” (“I speak the words of God”, “God has a message for you”, “Do it for God” etc). Since Lucifer’s not here, though, Asmodeus wants to “[have]him (Jack) found and trained to rule. With me as his humble advisor, of course”. Of course we know he will fail because he himself says that he had tried to train the Shedim in the past and utterly failed.

ASMODEUS: I know the perils of Lucifer’s disappointment. DREXEL: He—he did that? ASMODEUS: Long ago. Eager to please, I freed the shedim. DREXEL: You… Oh, I’ve heard stories about— ASMODEUS: Oh, I’m sure you have. Hell’s most savage. Things so dark, and base, God himself would not allow them into the light. But I, in my pride, believed that I could train them. Use them. But Lucifer feared them, as well he should, so he forbade it, locked them up again.

This, of course, means that Sam will fail to train Jack/the Shedim too.

The parallel between Asmodeus and Sam must be explored because the show seems to pass it as an Evil (Asmodeus) vs Good (Sam) training but it’s not as simple as that. There’s even a scene where Asmodeus-as-Donatello talks about Jack with Sam and he seems to agree with Sam’s theory that Jack can be molded. While Sam thinks so because “Kelly was a good person”, Asmodeus-as-Donatello is obviously more interested in his evil father’s lineage.

While it’s true that both of them don’t even consider to give Jack a choice, to ask him questions and to try to understand him, they’re not exactly wrong when they agree that Jack’s powers do need some training, regardless of why they’re interested in his powers, Jack doesn’t have a grip on how his powers work. The show insistence on “good vs evil", however, completely ignores the very valid point where Jack’s powers are simply neither good or evil per se but they are “only” a(nother) force to be reckoned with.

This “good vs evil” thing obscures something very important and I think a distinction must be made here about what "training" really means in this context: Sam wants Jack to learn to master his powers, so that he (Jack) can be in control of them; on the other hand, Asmodeus wants to exploit Jack because of his powers, he wants to be the one who’s in control of them.

Both Sam and Asmodeus have an agenda, clearly, they’re also two characters very much interested in power. But when Asmodeus says that he wants to train Jack what he really has in mind is to groom him. Asmodeus’ techniques are very similar to Crowley’s with baby Amara and Demon Dean (I know Dean was not a child but he was one metaphorically because Crowley calls himself “Father” and “daddy” while he calls Dean “a rather scrumptious altar boy”. Ugh). These are predators’ techniques: their intent is to create intimacy with a person (for instance, Asmodeus takes on Donatello’s resemblance to lure Jack and take him to the Hell’s Gate), usually a child, to make them do what they want and abuse their victims, victims who usually don’t even realize they’re victims (Jack doesn’t know he’s being manipulated).

This is NOT what Sam means when he says he can teach Jack. Sam’s utilitarian mindset can be reproachable but his intent is not the same as Asmodeus. Sure, it’s still absolutely problematic but, again, his intent is not to open up the earth to release the Shedim and use Jack to rule Hell. He wants to open the rift to the Apocalypse World to find his mother. He is, in other words, being a softer version of John Winchester. In fact, he is replicating John’s methods because this is what he grew up with and this is what he knows. Avenging Mary’s death, finding Mary in the AU… even if the intent might be comprehensible it doesn’t justify both John and Sam’s attitude towards the reaching of their ends. Yet, their ways are still not the same ways of a Crowley or an Asmodeus.

The other thing is that John was Sam’s father. He was father to two human children whom he raised as if their childhood was a huge, endless military training. Training someone, as a concept, is not evil: if you have a skill or a talent or whatever, you need to train and learn and explore your limits. Having someone who believes in you and wants to help you in your training is not evil too: in fact, it might be a very good thing. It’s a problematic thing, however, when your caregiver is more focused on the training than the care. It’s even more problematic if said caregiver is a paranoid who raised his sons as soldiers. But this is still NOT the same thing as demons such as Crowley and Asmodeus do.

The differences in "training" and what Sam fails to understand about what happened with Asmodeus is explained in "Patience":

SAM: Even with Asmodeus, that just happened?

JACK: No, he made me. It was like, like he was in my head.

SAM: Okay um, then uh… Imagine him doing that.

JACK: No!

SAM: No? Why not?

JACK: Because I don’t want to! It’s just… I can’t do this! And you keep staring at me, waiting!

Asmodeus made Jack use his powers, he was in his head. He had also abducted him, manipulated him: he wasn't trying to train him, he was trying to groom him. Of course Jack doesn't want that.

If Sam is replicating his father's teachings we must then ask: who is Jack to Sam in this moment in the narrative? He’s definitely not his son nor his sibling. But he's not someone Sam keeps in locks either. As I’ve said, Sam has never been above imprisoning people in his dungeon to reach his goal, yet he takes another road with Jack, maybe precisely because he’s identifying with him and projecting onto him his own fears and issues with “being evil” and “being a freak”. There is something very similar between the two but what is it? And why is it not expressed? Maybe Sam is not Jack the way he thinks he is but they do share one thing: they have both missed the opportunity to create a bond with their respective mothers.

Sam only really utterly fails Jack when he’s dishonest with him. He eventually understands that and comes clean with him but I think that a lot of the initial issues happened because he was not communicating with Jack at all. And he didn’t even give him a choice. I think that if Sam were honest with Jack and gave him the choice to help him he would have discovered another thing that make them veeeery similar: both of them are okay with twisting human morality and… sort of… manipulate people a little to get what they want. Does this make them evil villains? To me, no. Does this make them human, layered, compelling characters that raise interesting moral questions more than give black and white answers? Totally yes!

Sam and Jack are not “totally different” but they are different. Conversely, they are not “totally similar” but they are similar. The Rescuing of the Mother can happen because The Loss of the Mother is something that Jack can deeply understand and relate to. He doesn’t want to save Mary just to please Sam and Dean. I think it’s deeper than that.

In case it wasn't clear, the conflation of Mary and Kelly is very clear in "The Big Empty":

MIA: You’ve lost someone recently? DEAN: No. JACK: My mother. SAM: Uh, our mother. We’ve having a difficult time.

Mary-as-Missed/Missing-Mother is such a central theme in this season that the Apocalypse World is a literal ramification of the Original World that's solely dependent on Mary Winchester’s choice to not deal with Azazel. John is never brought back and, more importantly, Sam and Dean are never born. This is a world where she’s not the mother. But why is Mary’s choice so vital it can create different timelines?

S12 and S13 implicitly seem to tell that everything that happened was because of Mary’s choice and… it’s, like, not true? Sometimes Sam and Dean are so ultra-focused on “free will” and “making the right choices” that tend to forget the part where both them and their parents were part of a larger scheme that was predicated on people ultimately being herd towards a designed pen. Like, while I think that Dean and Sam having issues with their mother is completely real and plausible, I don’t understand why the narrative re-frames itself in this way… I understand that they were going for a specific retelling of the first seasons but this is not just retelling, this is demolishing the premises of those series. S4-5 were precisely about the mystification and the perils of a glorified, Grand Destiny that in reality was nothing but a Big Scam. It’s not your destiny if your destiny is something that somebody else is telling you about and when this somebody else has a vested interest in you believing that you have that specific destiny. Or if somebody else is removing all of your choices leaving you with close to nothing to choose from.

Apocalypse World is, thus, such an unfair double-edged sword, cause on the one hand, it gives Mary agency but on the other it shows us that both choices resulted in… well, frankly, catastrophes. And I think it’s unfair to throw this huge weight onto her shoulders after they had dug her up from her grave while completely ignoring the whole thing about senior management angels playing puppeteers with the Winchesters.

Kelly-as-Missed/Missing-Mother is the other side of the coin of this little argument of mine because in s13 the writers demonstrated how Kelly must stay dead because one mother is enough and they didn’t know what to make of Kelly since she was not a hunter. She was just, as a character, Jack’s mother. The rift to the Apocalypse World was even possible in the first place because she (more or less, it’s complicated) decided that she would.have.her.baby. But, just like Mary before her resurrection, if his actual mother were back in the game it either meant that Jack was out of the game or that they had to include her in some capacity into the Winchesters dynamics and they didn’t want any of that. Mary’s death meant that Sam and Dean entered the hunters’ life, Kelly’s death assures the same for Jack. Plus, they all have an angel watching over them, isn't it just great? But hey, wait, this is the absent fathers show so we’re gonna give this kid three, four, five fathers!!! (sarcastic). Also, Alive Kelly wouldn’t be the Good, Perfect, Dead Mother that she is to Jack because, well, she would be a Real Character, not a memory on a pen drive and Alive Kelly would be so faaaar from the Good and Perfect Mother. Do we have to try to write another complex mother? One is enough!!! (sarcastic).

In conclusion, in s13 Sam’s (and Jack’s) huge missed opportunity stays… missing. Jack will go to the Apocalypse World and fight the angels with Mary whereas Mary decides to stay there (lol!) to help with the fight. They literally have to find a bus and move all the remaining AU people to the Original World because Mary has decided that she wanted to stay in a world where she didn’t choose John and she didn’t give birth to her sons (me asking Sam who has just died and was resurrected by Lucifer only to find out that his mother didn’t want to be saved: are you REALLY okay? LOL). I’ll stop here cause this is getting way too long but maybe, just maybe, s13 as a whole was a giant missed opportunity.

4 notes · View notes