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#anyway I’ve been enjoying doing these and it’s been helping plenty with my art block!
shokupankoart · 7 months
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Our long journey continues! (*^▽^)/
Based on votes, her name will be Beatrix!
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helnjk · 3 years
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All I’ve Ever Known - G.W.
George Weasley x fem!reader
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last of my oneshots for my showtunes fic list, based on the song All I’ve Ever Known from the musical Hadestown! i’ve had so much fun with this series of fics, i hope you guys have enjoyed reading them xx 
Word Count: 2.8k 
Summary: george finds her extremely intriguing, the way she spends her days drawing and creating art. maybe one day he’ll pluck up the courage to talk to her. 
Warnings: mentions of food, mentions of bullying/exclusivity, stereotypical slytherin biases
lyrics are bold and italicized 
I was alone so long 
I didn’t even know that I was lonely
Y/N sat by herself at the end of the Slytherin table, pushing what was left of her meal around her plate. She could hear the different conversations flowing around her, the ones including her fellow housemates moreso, but as usual she wasn’t involved in any of them.
She could hear Malfoy sneering to his little crew about something or other that Potter did to irritate him that day. She could hear Adrian Pucey discussing the latest Quidditch plays they had used at training that day. She could hear a couple of first years anxiously discussing the topic of their exams the next day. 
All around her were signs of companionship and community, yet she was left utterly alone. She wasn’t stupid. She knew why she had been outcasted from her house the moment she got sorted. 
“Isn’t she muggleborn?” 
“What a disgrace to Slytherin.”
“The Sorting Hat’s made a mistake with that one.” 
Over the years, she had gotten used to how those in her house treated her–holding her at arm’s length. She had spent many nights in her first year crying herself to sleep because of how all-consuming the loneliness had been, but now at her seventh year, she was numb to it all. 
She knew who she was: A talented muggleborn witch and a proud Slytherin. She didn’t need validation from anyone else. And anyways, most of her time was spent out on the grounds with her sketchpad or in the Room of Requirement painting. 
Loud laughs from the Gryffindor table spurred her out of her thoughts. The Weasley twins had pranked their younger brother, and it seemed like their younger sister was an accomplice to the crime as well. The rest of the red and gold house was watching on amusedly, no doubt accustomed to similar situations. 
The Weasleys were a well known family at Hogwarts. How could they not be? With their fiery red hair and their big personalities, it was a given that they caught the attention of almost every student. 
Y/N admired how they just fit right in with their house, their second family. Of course, a lot of it had to do with the fact that they were so comfortable with the Hat’s placement. Their whole family was sorted into Gryffindor, she could remember, albeit slightly foggily, the older Weasley siblings in leadership roles when she was younger. 
Her eyes lingered on George’s laughing figure for a second longer than the rest of them. She was always intrigued by the younger twin. They seldom had classes together, but from what she could gather, he was just as observant and perceptive as he was mischievous and quick witted.  
As bodies began to take their leave from the Great Hall, a rough shove to the shoulder nearly made Y/N fall onto the floor. Her eyes snapped up to the offender and she saw the unbecoming sneer of Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were snickering not so quietly behind him as he stared down at her. 
“Whoops,” he jeered, “Sorry to disrupt your staring at the blood traitors and gryffindorks. Maybe you’d be better off with the lot of them.” 
With a huff, Y/N gathered her things and strode out of the hall without so much as a second look behind her.  
It's like I’d known you all along
I knew you before we met
And I don’t even know you yet
All I know is you're someone I have always known
She was drawing again, George noted.
It always baffled him how she was always alone. Usually students at Hogwarts drifted about their days in groups or pairs; it was rare to see someone spend most of their time by themselves. Growing up with 6 siblings, and having a twin, George was so used to the chaos and noise that came with it that he couldn’t picture what it was like to go about your day solo.  
His eyes drifted towards her figure sitting on a blanket out in the grounds. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings, or more to the point, the person staring at her like a bloody idiot. The weather was slowly transitioning from autumn into winter, and he could tell that she was trying to milk the last few warm days. 
It was no secret to him that she preferred to sketch out in the sunny grounds, but Hogwarts being situated in the Scottish countryside made it so that her window of opportunity to do so was limited.
He was so focused on how her brows furrowed in concentration and how her lips pursed ever so slightly when she made a mistake, that he didn’t notice Fred’s many deep sighs. This caused his twin to take one final deep breath and exhale as loudly as possible. 
“What’s got your wand in a knot then?” George asked, taking his eyes off of Y/N and turning to face his brother. 
“Finally noticed that I exist, have you?” teased Fred. 
“Oi, just get on with whatever you want to say!” 
He merely laughed, “If you want to talk to the snake, just do it!” 
George had the audacity to act as if he didn’t know what Fred meant, “What in Merlin’s name are you on about?” 
“Don’t be daft,” Fred smacked him lightly on the back of the head, “You’ve been pining after that Slytherin bird for months, just go and talk to her already!”
“Was I that obvious?” 
With a frustrated groan, Fred shoved his twin in the direction of the girl. George stumbled for a second and checked to see if she had seen, she hadn’t. He sent a glare at the redhead over his shoulder, before dusting off his trousers and donning a confident facade. 
As he strode across the courtyard, his hands grew increasingly clammy and his heart began to beat erratically in his chest. There was no turning back now, though, as he approached the girl. 
His shadow blocked the sun from Y/N’s notebook and she looked up, not expecting anyone to get so close to her. 
“Erm, hello,” George waved awkwardly as he towered over her figure.
She blinked a few times before replying, “Hello. Can I help you with something?” 
“Mind if I join you?” 
George’s question rang through the still air for a moment as Y/N processed what he had just asked. No one had ever wanted to keep her company as she drew before, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. Just before the moment turned even more awkward than it already was, she gave him a swift nod. 
The tall, lanky redhead folded his legs beneath him as he made himself comfortable on the path of grass next to her. He had to stop himself from grinning too wide, “I’ve seen you around, you know.” 
She merely raised a confused eyebrow in his direction. 
“Not-not like I’ve been stalking you!” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling his ears turn hot, “I’ve just noticed you like to draw out here, especially when the weather’s warm.” 
“Oh,” she mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ear. 
“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” 
George’s gaze on hers was so sincere, she kicked herself internally for not saying the right thing to him, “No you’re not! Don’t worry. I’m just not used to people paying much attention to what I do. I mean, I’m not that interesting.” 
She felt small under his analytic gaze, but something in her kept her from looking away. 
“Well I think you’re plenty interesting from what I’ve seen,” He shrugged nonchalantly, “Tell me about your drawings!” 
He had said the magic words and the pair of them dove into a conversation. Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement, as she rarely had the opportunity to speak about something she was so passionate about. 
“These look bloody brilliant,” George murmured in awe as he flipped through the pages of her notebook.  
Y/N’s face warmed at the compliment, “Thanks.” 
All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own 
But now I wanna hold you too
For nearly every day after their first encounter, George made it a point to talk to Y/N. Whether it be along the hallways on the way to class, during meals (he would take her hand and drag her to the Gryffindor tables, much to her bemusement), or out on the grounds while she drew. 
Most of the time, he would talk and talk and talk as she listened quietly. A soft smile would always grace her lips as she observed him and how he spoke so highly of his family and how he was so excited for the shop he would be opening with his brother. The tone of his voice and his large grins always made her feel included in whatever it was that he talked about.
“Hello love,” George smiled down at her before plopping down on the soft grass to her right, “Reckon we’re on the last few days of good weather.”
His eyes raised skywards as the overcast clouds floated above them, hers did the same. 
“It’s alright,” she shrugged, sending him a small smile, “We’ve made the most of it, I think.”  
The pair sat in relative silence, as silent as it could be with one of the Weasley twins, as Y/N built up the courage to show George what she had made for him. With a deep breath, she plucked something from her school bag that lay strewn across the grass and held the parchment to her chest.
“George?” 
“Yeah, Y/N?” his eyes trained on her nervous figure and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Everything alright?” 
She nodded her head swiftly, “Yeah everything’s perfect! I just wanted to show you something that I made.” 
Slowly, she smoothed out the parchment in front of them. She observed George quietly as he took in the sketch she had made. His eyes scanned it over once, twice, three times before they met hers again. 
“Is this…” He mumbled, taking the sketch into his hands to look closer.
“You’ve just been so excited about your joke shop that I–I made a logo for you guys,” she smiled sheepishly, “It’s pretty bare bones, but I wanted you to see it. I won’t take offence if you don’t like it!” 
George stared at her, mouth slightly agape. This was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for him, and she did it out of the kindness of her heart. Without a second thought, he threw his arms around her and quickly pulled her to his chest. Y/N let out a little ‘oof’ as she collided with him, heat spreading throughout her body. She was thankful that she was basically smushed on his chest, at least then he couldn’t tell how flustered she got at his display of affection. 
“So d’you like it?” she asked shyly, looking up at him. 
“I bloody love it!” 
Y/N let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding, the pair of them grinning at each other. 
Later in the day, George all but dragged Y/N into the Gryffindor common room in search of Fred. His brother was sat on one of the couches by the fireplace, chatting idly with Lee. The sound of parchment hitting him square in the chest rang through the relatively empty room. 
Fred’s hands immediately held onto whatever George had placed on him, and his eyes lit with joy as he realized what he was looking at. 
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, “Is this what I think it is?” 
George took a seat next to his brother, his hand tugging Y/N along to take the seat beside him, “Yep. Our Y/N here has made us a logo for Wheezes.” 
“This is brilliant, Y/N! Thank you!” 
For the second time that day, she found herself wrapped up in the arms of a Weasley twin. Slightly used to it, she just laughed the show of affection off and patted Fred slightly on the back. 
“Happy to help,” she smiled. 
As the seasons turned from autumn to winter, Y/N found herself spending more and more time with the red headed twins. She found their enthusiasm for their joke shop infectious, always chipping in with ideas of her own for products, or sketching up prototypes for them to look at. 
Slowly, her days were filled with laughter and warmth. 
It was a little jarring at first, spending so much time with people who actually cared about her, people who wanted to hear what she said and see what she created. It surprised her, really, how quickly she had become accustomed to being around them. 
After a while, though, she found herself wanting to spend as much time as possible with George. She lived for the routine that they had formed, spending most of their breaks and meals together. 
It struck her on a seemingly ordinary day, the realization that she was falling for him. 
Y/N and George were at a far corner in the library, discussing how the product designs she made could be tweaked a little. He was hunched over the parchment, tracing his fingers over the soft lines of charcoal on the parchment, smudging it just a tad bit and getting some of the pigment on him.
“I love the way you drew…” 
George had said something or other about the design, but Y/N couldn’t focus on anything except the way his arm flexed as he spoke. From the corner of her eye, she kept glancing at him, noticing how the glow of candlelight cast soft shadows on his face. The freckles on his cheeks seemed to dance in the flickering light, and looking at the constellations on his face made her breath hitch in her throat. 
She couldn’t quite place why her heart was raging in her chest, as if she hadn’t spent most of her days with the red headed boy anyway. 
And then it hit her. 
Her eyebrows shot up at the sudden awareness of her feelings for George. Oh sweet Merlin and Morgana, she thought. 
You take me in your arms
And suddenly there’s sunlight all around me
“George!” 
Y/N’s voice rang through the relatively empty hallway as she raced to meet her friend. The friend that she might have been in love with. The friend that she spent hours and hours of her day with, trying to ignore the bubble of feelings that wanted so badly to burst in her chest. 
The redhead who was on his way back up to his common room paused mid-step as he heard her voice. He spun on his heel, turning just in time for him to see her barreling towards him, waving a piece of parchment above her head. 
When she nearly collided head on with him, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and steadied her, “Woah there, Y/N. There’s no need to try and kill me.”
She huffed, catching her breath slightly, “Sorry, I’m just so excited!” 
“Are you going to tell me what you’re excited about, or?” he teased, cocking his head to the side. 
With a grin on her face, she shoved the piece of parchment she was holding into George’s hands, “I just figured out how the general design of the Wonder Witch products should look like! See here there’s a–”
“Godric I love you.”
Both bodies froze at the statement. George immediately felt his whole body get hot, no doubt tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears red. Y/N’s mouth was slightly agape, her mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts as she tried to comprehend what had just come out of George’s mouth. 
“What?” she asked, unable to form a proper sentence. 
George took a deep breath, there was no going back now, “Erm, yeah. I fancy the hell out of you, Y/N. That wasn’t the way I would’ve preferred to tell you but, I do–I do love you, yeah.” 
“Oh, Georgie,” Y/N whispered. 
Taking her answer as a rejection, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s alright that you don’t feel the same way, I don’t want this to ruin–”
Instead of replying, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in a hug, “I love you too, you silly boy.” 
The nerves got the better of her, and her words were slightly muffled as she whispered them into his chest. 
“Come again?” 
“I love you too, George!” 
A wide grin spread across his face as he looked at the girl in his arms. He felt like he could fly with how happy he was. Everything he needed was right in front of him, and he would hold her close for as long as he could. 
General taglist: @expectoevans​ @george-fabian-weasley​ @gxthsanrio​ @slytherinscribbles​ @harpyloon​ @nuttytani​ @mesmerisedangel​ @amourtentiaa​ @hufflepuff5972
Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies​ @pineapplesandpinas​ @papapapadumb​ @mrs-g-weasley​ @a-castle-of--glass​ @hey-there-angels​
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firelxdykatara · 3 years
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Please don't reblog SessRin. She was 13 when he got her pregnant. When he first adopted her, she was 8.
Oi vey.
No, she wasn’t.
It’s really funny that somehow I know more about the source material than people who are actually in the fandom, despite being much more of a casual viewer, but like, it’s not that hard to look up??? And realize that Sesshomaru never ‘adopted’ her (fuck, I know that and I’ve only seen like three seasons of the show), because literally all their relationship consisted of was Rin following Sess around for a year (one (1) year), while basically taking care of herself (he didn’t even feed her ffs), occasionally with Jaken’s help. All Sess himself did was keep her alive, which.... man, if that’s what y’all consider a father/daughter relationship, I’m genuinely concerned. Especially since, after that year was over, Sesshomaru dropped her off in a human village so that she could be raised among her own kind and then choose, for herself, where she wanted to be. If that kind of relationship when Rin was young makes their relationship after she grew up off-putting to you, that’s completely valid! What isn’t valid is claiming that your feelings are the only valid ones, and that Sess must have had romantic feelings for her when she was a child, which is never suggested anywhere in canon.
Secondly, there’s no reason to believe she was thirteen when he got her pregnant, what???? Everyone looks weirdly young in Yashahime’s art style, for one thing, (though notably, she just doesn’t look that much younger in the birth scene than Kagome) but I’ve been over the timeline (more for curiosity’s sake than anything else) and, quite apart from the fact that Rin had no canon age in the OG series (idk how the fandom settled on 8, but that was never actually stated, and she could easily have been a few years older--she was small but also uhhhh she’d been living like a feral child and pretty constantly malnourished before Sesshomaru found her so she would have been tiny for her age anyway), at the youngest she’d have been 16 or so. Which you may not think is great, and that’s fine, but it’s not the worst thing to come out of canon pairings in shows, so I fail to see the issue there.
Sess is supposed to be physically/mentally 19, the way Inuyasha is meant to be physically/mentally 15. The show wasn’t great about conveying this, but no one yelled about 150 year-old half-demon Inuyasha falling for a high schooler, so??? (Nevermind that this is a staple in shows with immortal protagonists. Which isn’t everyone’s cuppa, and that’s fine, but I get the appeal. I kinda have to, Bangel being one of my ultimate OTPs.) They are demons. They don’t view human lives and mortality and morality the same way we do. They don’t have to! It’s actually really interesting to think about that juxtaposition, how demons view humans but then some of them fall in love and those views change, and how half-demons bridge the gap between those two worlds... it’s fascinating. And for Sesshomaru, famously disdainful of humankind, to have fallen in love with a human woman and had half-demon kids of his own??? That’s even better.
I really gotta ask, though, who y’all even thought that human might be before the reveal lmao.
The thing is, I’m not even really in this fandom. I have a passing interest, I’ve seen a good chunk of the show and enjoyed it, I don’t really ship anything except inukag and a bit sesskag because I’ve seen some artwork and fanworks that really intrigue me, but I thought that piece of art was cute and reblogged it. I don’t have any real opinions on the ship itself, except that people are losing their minds for no reason, because it’s easy to blacklist tags and block content and also if the show itself disgusts you bc of its canon pairings then don’t watch it??? There are plenty of shows I don’t watch because I hate the things they do in canon (see: why i never got into Game of Thrones) but I’m not about to ask people to not reblog things from those shows just bc I don’t like them. If it bothers me that much, there’s blacklisting and tumblr’s filter system. Also blocking, if it’s really that huge a deal.
But I’ve never had patience with this kind of argument where, like, people who really hate a ship have decided that it MUST be pedophilia, despite their insistence on information that isn’t even canon, like. It happened to me, not long back, when a group of atla blogs decided that Jiang was an adult, despite there being no canon basis for that belief (and a lot of canon basis for her being a teenager, since all her crew were around the gaang’s ages), and so if I shipped her with Katara I must be a pedo. I hated it then, and I hate it now, and if you don’t like my particular stance on this, you don’t have to, but I’m not budging.
For the record, I always tag ship things, and I tagged that post, so if you hate sessrin, I implore you, please blacklist or filter the tag. It’s genuinely not that difficult. And I’m not even in the fandom, but I’m also not gonna go out of my way not to reblog things if I find them cute or the art good or whatever, so I can’t promise I’ll never reblog sessrin again lmao
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piratewithvigor · 3 years
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Romance Isn't Dead (Just Buried Alive) - Chapter 1
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When faced with one of the most frightening emotions of all time, Undertaker turns to Goldust for assistance
(I have literally had this title yelling at me since like June without a plot to go with it. Have finally plotted it for the most part. Figure it'll be like 3 chapters or so. Beats the hell out of me when they'll go up. For now, enjoy some good old-fashioned sweet crack)
The star on the door is glittering almost offensively brightly. ‘Goldust’ is scrawled through the middle with an obscenely elegant script. It’s as bright and cheerful and dazzling as the man himself.
Undertaker feels sick to his stomach to be standing in front of the door.
It’s not fear. He doesn’t think it’s fear, anyway. Fear sits heavy when he does feel it, and it isn’t often. Paul’s reminded him time and time again that there’s not a single thing in the company more scary than he. But Paul doesn’t know he’s here. Maybe it’s the idea that he finds out that scares Taker. But he’s faced Paul’s ire before. It’s deeply shameful, but not scary.
And yet, something grabs his arm and keeps him from lifting it to knock at the door. Some invisible force he isn’t familiar with. Paul’s trained him long and hard in recognizing and overcoming any force, visible or not, mortal or otherwise. He’s not sure he’s breathing as he rereads the name on the door over and over. It’s something to focus on. Something to keep his mind occupied as he works to lift his arm.
Maybe he ought to just walk away. Could be for the best. It’s probably not a good idea anyway. Paul does the better thinking. Everyone says so. Ever since the fire, it’s always been easier to just listen to what Paul says and not make a mistake by disobeying him. He’ll walk away and forget the whole idea. He’s able to turn his head to leave before a voice comes from inside the room.
“Didn’t know zombies needed to be invited in. Thought that was just vampires.”
Words die in Taker’s throat. He didn’t know he had any in the first place. All he has is finally the willpower to knock. There’s a quiet groan from inside and a little shuffling the door opens. Goldust stands there, wearing a shimmering robe that nearly brushes the floor and most of his face paint. The rest was just about to be applied, judging by the brush in his hand.
“It was an invitation, dear. I doubt the door would be too heavy for you.”
“Didn’t want to be rude.”
It’s a flimsy excuse, but Taker’s looking for any reason to stall why he’s here. Maybe it is fear. He’s familiar with the emotion after all; having caused it plenty. Was this how his enemies felt? Frozen in place, hearts racing, breath a struggle to pull in?
“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Almost as pale as your Mr. Bearer.”
“Can I speak with you in private?”
The request is strange enough to wipe the expression of eternal confidence off Goldust’s face. Taker hardly ever speaks to begin with. Paul does most of that for him. To speak in private with Paul nowhere to be seen? Unheard of.
Wordlessly, Goldust takes a step back to let Taker past him into the room. The whole place maintains the flair of Goldust himself, with garments hung up that Taker almost feels he needs to cover his eyes a little to look at. He doesn’t, of course. His mind is far elsewhere.
Goldust closes the door behind them, wringing his hands a little to quell the questions. He figures he’s not the one in trouble, else he’d have been decked on the spot when he opened the door, if not, chokeslammed or even tombstonned. But none of that had happened. Taker looked far more pale than usual. And he’d stood outside the door for 7 minutes and 15 seconds (not that Goldust was counting) completely motionless.
“Need a seat?” He offers, sitting back down in front of the mirror. Taker may need to speak, but Goldust is on in less than an hour and still needs to paint in all the black on his face and adjust his wig.
“No, thank you. I may need to leave in a hurry.” He keeps glancing back at the door, double- and triple-checking that it is most certainly closed and that there’s no way Paul can possibly see him from the hallway.
“Then maybe a glass of water? Honestly, Taker, dear, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t supposed to be here.”
“I’m not.”
“It can’t be against your Mr. Bearer’s rules to speak with a colleague. Especially if we’re going on together tonight.”
“It is.”
“Seems overly harsh.”
To that, Taker doesn’t answer. He’s watching Goldust apply the makeup with a skilled hand in the mirror. Perhaps it is a little harsh of Paul to keep him away from the other wrestlers, but Paul is taking his pre-show nap. Sneaking away was easier than Taker expected. All in the name of necessity.
“I need your help.”
“With what?”
Taker isn’t exactly sure. It all seemed to simple before that moment. As he snuck away from his own dressing room where Paul was sleeping. He’d request Goldust’s help and after a couple more steps in his brilliant plan, the burning persistent desire in the back of his mind would be fulfilled. What could go wrong?
Not knowing what exactly he was desiring, for starters. The thoughts and feelings had begun months ago and he was fairly certain he knew what they were, but there was always the chance he’d been completely wrong and would get laughed out of Goldust’s dressing room. From there, the laughter would spread and Paul would find some kind of way to punish him.
He’d been told to forget these feelings. Forget the fantasies of touching, perhaps even without his gloves on. They weren’t beneficial. They weakened him instead of strengthened him. But maybe Paul was wrong this time. It hadn’t happened yet, but it still could.
“I think I’m in love.”
Of all the things Goldust had guessed Taker might say, a declaration of love certainly isn’t one of them. The shock causes him to nearly gouge out his eye with the brush, but he stops short, only causing a few stray tears to leak out before grabbing a tissue to salvage the makeup and turning around to face his guest.
“I’m certainly glad to hear it. I wasn’t sure if you were able to feel anything besides anger.”
“I’m not supposed to.”
“That’s just foolishness. No one can make you stop feeling things. Especially love. Now, I want you to sit down and relax and tell me all about whoever captured your heart.”
Taker hesitates a little, but follows Goldust’s instructions. Most of them, anyway. He doesn’t relax. His heart is still racing with the worry of being caught. The worry of trying to explain his heart when he isn’t sure he still has one.
“He’s… another wrestler.”
“Do I know him?”
“Yes.”
“Is he here tonight?”
“Of course.”
“Who is he?”
Taker grows bright pink and turns away. Underneath his makeup, Goldust can feel the same happening to him. Words nearly fail him.
“Well, Taker… I’m… I’m flattered, but you know as well as I do that so much of what we say in the ring is… exaggerated. I suppose I would be willing to try-”
“It’s Shawn,” Taker blurts out, his skin almost as red as his beard.
“Shawn Michaels?”
Taker nods and Goldust breathes out a sigh of relief. His tastes may be a little out of the ordinary, but the idea of trying to be in a loving, committed relationship with someone who’s at least very peculiar and at most not human is a little too much. But dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight wasn’t exactly off the table.
“Does he have any idea?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But you want him to know?”
“I… I don’t… I’ve never really…” Taker stammers over his words before finally finding the right ones after a deep breath. “Yes. And I want him to love me back.”
It’ll be a challenge, doubtless. But Taker came to him with it. Some might argue that he isn’t the locker room’s authority on matters of the heart, but he’s been trusted with Taker’s.
“You’ve got a lot to learn, my dear Deadman. Shawn’s driven around the block a few times, but it’ll be hard to get him to find a place to park,” Goldust muses, then notes Taker’s deeply confused expression. “It’ll be hard to get him to settle down with just one man,” he corrects himself.
“But you can make it happen, right?”
“You wouldn’t have come to me if you doubted I could. Anyone can win anyone’s heart if you employ the right techniques.”
“And you can teach me?”
“Undertaker, dear, if there’s anyone in the world who can teach a zombie the art of romance to woo the man he fancies, it’s yours truly.”
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9worldstales · 3 years
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MCU What if Ep 1-2-3: My two cents
So, I’ve been watching the “What if” series. I won’t beat it around the bush, I’m enjoying it but at the same time I get the feeling this series is aimed at younger audience, younger audience which isn’t deeply familiar with the movies and needs to be feed a simpler storyline.
In fact from the way they present it in each episode 1 single change should be the one which gives life to a parallel universe in a sort of domino effect… only, from what I could see in those 3 episodes, there are actually multiple unconnected changes, 1 presented more markedly as if it were the one starting everything and the others… just there for unknown reasons but they aren’t remarked and might easily be missed by who doesn’t remember well the movies.
Characterizations are also simplified, with heroes more black and white than grey, and a general toning down of the drama. This isn’t necessarily tied to the short time, 30 minutes in the hand of a good storyteller are plenty of time to construct a complicate, adult, emotionally engaging story… but a complicate story requires an audience willing to put its mind to understand it, or capable to handle a more morally nuanced plot or that wouldn’t be too distressed by a more emotionally engaging one.
This kind of audience is clearly not what those stories are aiming at.
This isn’t meant to say they’re bad, they’re perfect for young audience, passing on a good message, being overall funny and giving them the chance to enjoy the heroes they love in a different setting.
Dialogues are nice, their voice actors so far delivered good performance, the art isn’t bad and the stories can feel still intriguing enough.
However, if you think too hard at them, especially in comparison to the original movie, the story tends to crumble or feel morally poor or mess up the characterization or some other thing.
Overall I think the “What if” so far are more enjoyable if you don’t really remember well the movies and, anyway, judge them as stand-alone more than “What if” based on how a single divergence from the plot could create a new timeline.
Some examples?
Pick “What If... Captain Carter Were the First Avenger?”
The divergence supposedly happens when Peggy decides to stay in the room.
Erskine: Agent Carter, wouldn't you be more comfortable in the booth? Peggy: No, I'd prefer to stay. Watcher: There. That's the moment that created a new universe. When asked to leave the room, Margaret "Peggy" Carter chose to stay. But soon it would be her venturing into the unknown and creating a new world.
Only, in truth, it’s not just Peggy who was meant to go to the booth and didn’t.
EVERYONE was meant to go to the booth… only they all stay and Kruger, the spy from Hydra, who was seated in the booth BEHIND Peggy in “Captain America”, in the “What if” episode attacks the lab during Erskine’s explanation and not, as he did in “Captain America”, after the experiment took place, using as a distraction a bomb he left in the booth, and not on the floor of near to where the experiment was taking place so that it can kill Erskine.
And, to be really accurate, Erskine, in “Captain America”, asked Peggy to move to the booth when Steve was already lying down for the experiment, while here we see him asking her so while the two are standing next to each other and he hadn’t started undressing yet.
And there’s a reason why in the movie things were done like that.
Of course in the movie everyone was in the booth, it was safer should something go wrong with the experiment.
Of course Kruger waited for the experiment to be carried on, if it didn’t work there was no point in stealing a vial of a serum that didn’t work.
Of course Kruger left the bomb in the booth and made it explode when he was outside of it, so that he was sure it would create distraction but not harm him.
Overall, it’s not just Peggy that acts differently, it’s Erskine, who asked her to move in advance, it’s all the people there, who didn’t move to the booth, it’s ESPECIALLY, Kruger, who originally aimed to see if the serum worked and, in this case, steal it and kill Erskine so he couldn’t produce more and instead he now doesn’t check if the serum works and kills, for unknown reasons Chester Phillips, who didn’t even have a weapon in his hand and so didn’t pose a threat.
Even the placing of the bomb is poor because, since there was plenty of mechanisms in the lab, it could have triggered a series of explosions that were to destroy the whole place, himself and all the serum included.
But how many young viewers noticed all this or worry for the risk of everything exploding or realize that causing an explosion outside of the room in which the serum was worked as a diversion so as to take people away from that place, while if the bomb were to explode there, everyone would converge in that place, with hydrants possibly as no one worries about fire spreading but they should… even if there’s magically not as much as there should be.
And tragic scenes get tamed down, we don’t see Erskine die, we might not even realize he died in the explosion, young viewers might not remember or not like Chester Phillips so when he’s shoot he doesn’t leave an impression and Kruger’s shape gets shoot down by Peggy so we don’t have him committing suicide.
It’s not a complain, it’s a logic choice to make the series more palatable to a younger target by toning down the violence and the drama in it.
And so we reach the big event of the episode.
John Flynn would want Stark to get the serum injected in himself (forgetting there were men of the MP around him who shouldn’t be all dead) but starts to complain when Peggy volunteers to take the serum herself. Peggy does anyway and again things are tamed down, as Steve ended up screaming so loud in “Captain America” Peggy feared they were killing him and they considered stopping the experiment but Peggy doesn’t scream at all.
Sure, in had been scientifically proved women are built to handle pain better, but very likely Peggy’s lack of scream isn’t because she’s tougher, it’s again to not upset young audience.
So, while Steve lies on the ground and no one comes to help him, Peggy comes out of the experiment enhanced. But here we’ve the real core of the episode, John Flynn decides the experiment is an absolute failure. Why?
Flynn: Sixty million dollars and all the hope in the world down the drain. I was promised an army. I was promised peace and salvation. Instead, I get a girl.
Basically the real core of the episode, the real theme is that Captain Carter will have to fight discrimination based on sexism.
Peggy: You have a Super Soldier. Flynn: Women aren't soldiers, and they sure as hell don't fight on the front lines. They might break a nail.
Undoubtedly this is an important matter, it’s a good topic to make an episode about, to give young girls an heroine, to show to them and to the boys what an absolute moron Flynn was in discriminating Peggy, also presenting boys being supportive of Peggy and trusting her. Howard Stark, Steve Rogers, and then Bucky and everyone else, all the men who see Peggy fighting are ultimately supportive and admiring of her. This is important. But Flynn’s sexism is better remarked if we don’t remember what happened in “Captain America”.
Steve Rogers: Sir, if you’re going after Schmidt, I want in. Col. Chester Phillips: You’re an experiment. You’re going to Alamogordo. Steve Rogers: The serum worked. Col. Chester Phillips: I asked for an army and all I got was you. You are not enough. Senator Brandt: [to Steve] With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point. I’ve seen you in action, Steve. More importantly, the country’s seen it. [to his aide] Paper.[the aide shows them the news paper (‘The New York Examiner’ Vol. XCVII No. 33.634, Wednesday, June 23, 1943), headlines: "Nazis in New York - mystery man saves child"] The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands. You don’t take a soldier, a symbol like that, and hide him in a lab. Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war? Steve Rogers: Sir, that’s all I want. Senator Brandt: Then, congratulations. You just got promoted.
I mean, Rogers was a male and he too was judged ‘not enough’. Brandt has him tour the nation in a colorful costume as “Captain America” to promote war bonds, while scientists study him and attempt to reverse-engineer the formula.
Chester Phillips was likely killed because otherwise they would have no reason to deal with Peggy the same way he dealt with Steve ‘one is not enough’, only it wouldn’t have been a sexist problem, just math (though it could be argued Phillips never trusted Steve to begin with). This causes the message ‘sexism is dumb’ ends up feeling forced because it’s basically pasted over a previous narrative of ‘not being enough’. If you want, you can read it as always discrimination and discrimination it’s always bad, but it still cheapens the message.
All this not to say that the episode isn’t awesome if seen as a stand-alone… it’s just that when you compare it with “Captain America” it feels weaker.
And then there are the other discrepancies, like the Hydra bringing the Tesseract to Berlin and not to Azzano (a sign somehow Schmidt and Hitler didn’t have a fall out) with Stark using it to power up an “Hydra Stomper” suit that proves if he had had the right power sources and technologies he could have built “Iron Man” too.
They’re not bad points (actually I loved the “Hydra Stomper” suit and how Peggy rode it the way Tekkaman from “Uchu no Kishi Tekkaman” used to ride Pegas in my childhood memories) but again they’re divergences without a clear reason. Schmidt and Hitler shouldn’t get along better solely because Peggy got the serum.
And that’s the first episode.
“What If... T'Challa Became a Star-Lord?” is also clearly aimed to a younger audience but with a goal different from “What If... Captain Carter Were the First Avenger?”
Watcher: What you call destiny is just an equation, a product of variables. Right place, right time, or in some instances, the wrong place at the wrong time. As fate would have it, at that very moment, a Ravager spacecraft was arriving on Earth to abduct the spawn of the Celestial, Ego. But in this universe, Yondu outsourced the assignment to his subordinates. Yondu: You morons grabbed the wrong kid!
For start this episode doesn’t try to rewrite a single movie, but by taking pieces of assorted movies “Thor: The Dark World” (for Tivan) “Guardians of the Galaxy” (for the idea of the setting), “Black Panther” (for T’Challa), “Avengers: Infinity War” (for the Black Order), “Captain America” (Tivan has his shielf), “Thor: Ragnarok” (TIvan has and uses Hela’s headpiece, talking of her as if he knew her and we can see he also has Thor’s hammer), “Thor: The Dark World” (Tivan has Malekith’s dagger) creates a completely different timeline by changing something that happened in 1988 and then jumping straight in… 2014, I presume, where a lot is different but we aren’t meant to see the process due to which things were changed, just to accept how T’Challa, kidnapped as a kid by the Ravagers, managed to make the difference.
In fact the whole theme of this episode is that T’Challa is a hero and a role model that gets success and admiration by TALKING TO PEOPLE AND PERSUADING THEM TO DO THE RIGHT THING. He’s meant not to have a character arc but to create a world that’s the best possible for people.
In fact we’re told just by talking with Thanos he persuaded him to stop his whole plan without using violence.
Korath: How exactly did you stop Thanos, the Mad Titan, from decimating half of the universe? Oh, no. Thanos: I'm a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong. T'Challa here showed me there was more than one way to reallocate the universe's resources. T’Challa: Sometimes the best weapon in your arsenal is just a good argument.
I mean, he doesn’t just turn the Ravagers into Robin Hood’s “merry men”, he talks with Thanos and Thanos decides to change his ways.
This is great, a wonderful message, a message against violence, a message about the power of the words and it makes T’Challa a real hero who, just by talking, saves the universe from Thanos but… but T’Challa from the movies was maybe not so good at persuading people from not doing wrong but he still had something amazing that made him very human and, at the same time a role model.
T’Challa wasn’t perfect, he made mistakes… but then he would admit them and correct them.
In “Captain America: Civil War” he wants to kill Bucky in retaliation for what happened to his father…
Natasha Romanoff: T'Challa. Task force will decide who brings in Barnes. T'Challa: [He clenches his fist.] Don't bother, Miss Romanoff. I'll kill him myself.
…but then he understands killing his father’s murder would be wrong and even stops Zemo from committing suicide.
T'Challa: Vengeance has consumed you. It's consuming them. [He blinks ruefully and retracts the claws in his gloves.] I am done letting it consume me. Justice will come soon enough. Helmut Zemo: [Holding a gun Zemo smiles thinly.] Tell that to the dead. [He tries to shoot himself but T'Challa grabs him just as he fires.] T'Challa: The living are not done with you yet.
And the same goes in “Black Panther”. At first he doesn’t want to ask Killmonger his name because he knows he is his uncle’s son and this would give him the right to compete for the throne as well as expose what his father did…
Killmonger: Oh, I ain't requesting nothing! Ask who I am? Shuri: You are Eric Steves. An American black operative. A mercenary nicknamed Killmonger. That's who you are. Killmonger: (LAUGHING) That's not my name, Princess. Ask me, King? T'Challa: No. Killmonger: Ask me. T'Challa: Take him away.
…but then he’ll acknowledges they had wronged him, will show him Wakanda’s beauty and will change things in Wakanda. T’Challa in the movies isn’t as perfect as T’Challa in the “What if” episode. He can’t solve everything and make the world perfect. He isn’t always right. He gets angry, vengeful, afraid of the truth. But then he rises above this and does the right thing.
“What if” T’Challa is a model of perfection that’s admirable… but that sits simply too high above the original T’Challa who also had to deal with Thanos but didn’t even think he could change his mind just by giving him a talk… and with good reason.
Younger kids might not realize because they might have not fully grasped how Thanos was a genocidal maniac, who massacred millions even prior to the snap, tortured his daughters and even removed body parts from Nebula. They might swallow it was just that easy to talk him into not doing the snap, and Thanos only needed someone to tell him it was wrong… and that in truth he loved Nebula… but for older viewers while beautiful, this is simply unbelievable.
And what about Yondu and the Ravagers? Just because they had T’Challa they became good and righteous. This is how Peter Quill described Yondu in “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” which still gives a sympathetic portrayal of Yondu:
Quill: He wasn't my father. Yondu was the guy who abducted me. He'd beat the crap out of me so I'd learn how to fight and he kept me in terror threatening to eat me.
But T’Challa doesn’t seem to have such complains against Yondu.
Now… In Quill’s case Yondu kept Quill so as to protect him from Ego…
Yondu: Once I figured out what happened to the other kids, I wasn't gonna just hand you over.
…yet he kidnap him and tells him his home was destroyed so as to manipulate him into staying… but this is so easily forgotten by T’Challa to the point children might not even realize it was there. Yondu was a good dad for him, he kidnapped him because T’Challa was basically wasted at home.
Yondu: Sometimes you need to hear a lie to see the truth. You're just like me, T'Challa. T’Challa: I am nothing like you. Yondu: You're an explorer, Star-Lord. And for people like you, like us, the past ain't nothing but a prison. You don't belong down there with them. You belong up here with us, with your family.
Although T’Challa doesn’t seem to agree at first… in the end all is forgotten.
Yondu: Look, T'Challa, I just wanted to say... T’Challa: There's no need. I was the one who told you I wanted to see the world. All you did was show me the universe.
and
T’Chaka: (Voice shaking) My son, my son. I knew you would find your way home to us. T’Challa: I'm sorry it took me so long. Let me introduce you to the family I made along the way.
All this is to basically excuse the premise, something horrible like kidnapping a child is passed as not really something terrible so that kids wouldn’t deal with its emotional implications and can even think that it was a pity that, in the normal universe, it was Peter Quill that was kidnapped… without realizing that kidnapping is bad and that in T’Challa’s case Yondu wasn’t even doing it because he wanted to protect him. Actually it’s unexplained why, all of sudden, Yondu felt the need to keep T’Challa and completely forgot about Quill, didn’t even care about making sure Ego wouldn’t find Quill despite, thanks to T’Challa, becoming a better person. It’s another change, one that people knowing the movies is bound to notice but not kids.
So again, for who knows the movie well, the story ends up being weak and this is also because, while T’Challa could persuade Thanos off screen not to commit genocide… all of sudden his persuasive power isn’t even really tested out with Tivan. Tivan is the big evil… yet he’s somehow less fearsome than Thanos because we clearly don’t want to scare the kids.
So again, wonderful for young audience who doesn’t remember well the movies… not so solid for who’s older.
And so we move to “What If... the World Lost Its Mightiest Heroes?” which is absolutely my favourite so far. This one at a first glance seems to be a “What if” of a comic named “The Avengers Prelude: Fury's Big Week”.
The awesome thing of this story is we don’t know what changed the universe, we only discover that someone is killing off the Avengers before they could become the Avengers, starting with Tony Stark.
The mystery is, at a first glance, cool, the idea original, Natasha gets a big role as she investigates and even fights things along with Fury and, again, children will likely not really realize how the “What if” is actually changing the settings even when they’re supposedly not related to the change that caused this parallel reality, the death of Hope van Dyne. I mean, we can start our list of changes with the random funny things that has no reason to happen because Hope’s death shouldn’t have made Coulson and Barton to be so appreciative of Thor’s hair, something they never bring up in the movie…
Coulson: Whoa. I got visual on the intruder. He's a Caucasian male, mid-twenties with... really great hair. Fury: Excuse me? Coulson: It's an accurate description. Sir, he's gorgeous. Fury: I need eyes in the sky. Barton. Barton: Already on it. He's making a move on the hammer. One shot, one kill, sir. Just say the word. Fury: Hold your fire. I wanna see this. Barton: Whoa. Coulson wasn't lying about the hair. That's nice.
…to continue with more plot related matters like how Betty should have known Banner had intruded in her lab dressed up as a delivery boy and was now hiding in a wardrobe… but if we want we can forgive them. Maybe Hope’s death really changed some things in weird ways we couldn’t predict… but the place with the biggest revolution seems to be Asgard… which actually shouldn’t have been affected by by Hope’s death AT ALL and instead the situation is completely different from how it were in “Thor” to the point I could write a 20 pages meta on the changes. But, if we assume this episode is aimed at children, it works because the “Thor” situation was complicate and here instead they show solely some random and confuse elements that children might have picked up from talks about the movies… but that weren’t like that in “Thor”.
And again we have messages that can be good for children, how a father will love his little girl, how Nick Fury will save the day even without the Avengers, how:
Fury: S.H.I.E.L.D. is people, people willing to give their lives for something greater than themselves to save the world from men like you.
…and how in the darkest time new heroes will always come to save Earth as when Loki take over because it seems there are no more Avengers, Fury can still count on Carol Danvers and Steve Rogers.
Coulson: The Avengers fell before they had a chance to rise. May they rest in peace. Fury: They can, but we won't. The Avengers were always meant to be more than a team. They were an idea, the affirmation of humanity's need to believe that in our darkest hour, we will find our heroes. Watcher: I believe that in this universe, as in every other, hope never dies. As long as someone keeps their good eye on the bigger picture.
It’s a good message about hope… but again, it’s something for children. We’re meant to believe Earth could be conquered in one day time without struggle whatsoever… and that only the heroes could save it. Children might not remember it but in “The Avengers” humans tried to nuke New York to stop Loki… the idea they would just sit and say ‘whatever’ to Loki’s domination makes it look as if they actually agree with him to an adult… but, of course, the battle of New York is something we might not want to show to a little child.
And now… something else that’s relevant.
I said the “What ifs” are good stories for children… but we’re talking of young children here because if the child is a little older they can end up passing a completely wrong message.
Remember "What If... Captain Carter Were the First Avenger?" and how it tackled sexism as an absurd behavior to keep? How Captain Carter overcomes it? By using her supersoldier powers to beat the Nazi. She shows as a supersoldier she works.
Does she turns over the concept that ‘Women aren't soldiers, and they sure as hell don't fight on the front lines. They might break a nail’?
At most she proves she can be a soldier. She doesn’t fight using the fact she’s a woman as her strongest point, she fights using her super strength as her strongest point… where Steve Roger’s strongest point wasn’t his enhanced strength but his moral values. Peggy proves as a super soldier she’s equal to Steve… but Steve as a super soldier proved he was better than Red Skull. Peggy’s actions in the story doesn’t cause people to revalue women in general, just her. People either aren’t sexist and accept her regardless of her genre (Howard, Steve) or they’re sexist but accept her because she is strong.
It’s meaningful that when she thinks Steve is dead Flynn goes back to his old mindset…
Flynn: She should never have been in the field in the first place.
… because the truth is he never changed it. Peggy had only yelled at them to stop calling Steve “Hydra Stomper” as his name was “Steve Roger” and Flynn decides she, not Steve who actually died, should have never been in the field.
They don’t show how Peggy got information from Zola, which seems to imply all she did to get them was to beat him up. Chester Phillips in “Captain America” manipulated him into talking with his intelligence only.
Do you know which were Peggy’s abilities in the universe in which she isn’t a super soldier? She’s a Master Martial Artist, an Expert Marksman, a Master Spy, an Expert Tactician, a Thief and can speak and read English, Russian and German fluently as well as use a convincing American accent.
This is hardly noticeable though in her own story.
Howard: Should we not have a plan? Peggy: Who needs a plan? I have a shield. Howard: A shield is not a plan. Oh, Carter...
She was a tactician!
Now… she has a shield. But whatever girl wants to be like her won’t have a shield, nor a super serum. To be a real role model for girls who aren’t anymore children Peggy needed to have qualities they too could have that would empower her. The only good moment is when she understands what Howard plans to do:
Howard: If I can get to the controls, I can transpose the ingress and do science stuff. Peggy: You mean transpose the polarity and reverse the suction? Howard: Being the genius is my thing.
But again, the irony here is that this is no genius plan, middle school students had probably seen him being done in movies and cartoons already. It might seem genius idea to kids, but when you’re older it hardly sounds like one… and when Howard complains all in the machine is written in German they don’t have Peggy show her knowledge of it, and translate the words as she fight, she just fight and he’s supposed to figure things out.
“Captain America” is a role model for what he has inside. I’m sure Peggy Carter has plenty of things inside her as well… but “What if” makes it more about the super strength she has gained.
Where Steve gains Phillips’ respect, Flynn’s respect is more a façade due to her successes thanks to her super strength, and that respect gets pulled back as soon as she gets upset by his behavior. Sure, Flynn is a worse person than Phillips in this black and white world but this too is part of the narrative. If Peggy can’t permanently win over sexism in one person, it’s not real victory at all. If what’s remarkable about her is how she fights (due to the serum) then who didn’t have it, will never have a hope. Peggy Carter was more of a female model when she wasn’t supersoldier, she felt more of a role model in “Captain America”, when she got to do this with her own strength:
Peggy Carter: Put your right foot forward. Gilmore Hodge: Mmm… We gonna wrassle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like. [suddenly Peggy punches him hard in the face. Col.Phillips drives up] Col. Chester Phillips: Agent Carter. Peggy Carter: Colonel Phillips. Col. Chester Phillips: I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!
…than when she punched Nazis thanks to being a super soldier. Peggy has never been a fragile Fräulein, but this episode seems to remark she’s not one merely because she has taken the serum.
As a result… she sets an impossible role model for girls. If the key to be (partially) respected and accepted by males is to get the super soldier serum and/or the shiled… well, that serum doesn’t exist, not does the shield.
And a similar problem exists in “What If... T'Challa Became a Star-Lord?”
Teaching a small child he can solve problems by talking and not by hitting is important… but passing the message that you can stop bullies or worse just by talking to them is again setting an impossible role model. People like Thanos can’t be stopped with just words. People like Yondu and the Ravagers wouldn’t become Robin Hood and his merry men merely because they have with themselves a young boy who tells them the right things… and what Yondu does to T’Challa is worse than what he did to Quill and having been kidnapped as a child shouldn’t be waved off so easily. We’re not talking of Yondu finding an orphaned T’Challa and raising him, if he had picked up N’Jadaka after he lost his father it would have been different, but here, he just ripped a child from a loving family, a family he loved back. And it’s almost presented as a good thing because this causes the universe to be saved by Thanos, Yondu’s lie giving T’Challa the motivation to try to to make the universe a better place.
Nebula: You lost your home, and now you save everyone else's.
And problems continue with “What If... the World Lost Its Mightiest Heroes?” because there, the solution, the hope, is presented solely by the superheroes. No one opposes to Loki, the whole Earth is expected to be saved by Captain America and Carol Danvers. The one who refuses to kneel to Loki is Fury, who’s considered special. We don’t have in this story a lone old man who’s standing stubbornly despite the threat.
LOKI: Kneel before me. [The crowd ignores him. Three more Loki's appear, surrounding and blocking the crowd from escaping.] I said KNEEL! [While the crowd quietly kneels, Loki embraces out his arms with a wide smile] Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel. ELDER GERMAN MAN: [As the words resonate to the kneeling crowd, an elder German man refuses to kneel and stands, heroic.] Not to men like you. LOKI: There are no men like me. ELDER GERMAN MAN: There are always men like you. LOKI: Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example. [As Loki is about to execute the man with his scepter as the light glows blue. Right as the energy beam shoots out, Captain America arrives, diving in just in time to block the blast with his shield, and knocking down Loki]
So basically in this series heroes set impossible standards… and are the only ones who can save the day. It can be fun for an adult, as he doesn’t need role models… but for a boy who’s no more a small child but not yet old enough to do without viewing heroes are role models, the heroes presents a standard that is something unattainable. And this is bad because he too might enjoy watching the show, but the show gives him no hope… where ironically, Marvel movies were about giving positive role models in which you could identify.
Overall I stay my case, the “What if” series is definitely enjoyable… but the bar for the target audience is set to a very young age, they don’t really follow the idea that one small change can realistically change everything because they actually intrude plenty of small changes for their setting to work, and might end up not giving the right message if you’re in between a age between a small child and an adult. Of course future “What if” episodes might change, and I will probably still love them because I adore what if… but I would love them even more if they had aimed to a target audience a little older… making their heroes, more realistic role models which can be emulated and if they had respected their own premise, that ONE SINGLE CHANGE can create a completely different new reality.
What changed in the Peggy episode wasn’t just Peggy not sitting on the booth. What changed in the T’Challa episode wasn’t just Yondu sending his subordinates to pick up a kid. What changed in the mightiest heroes episode wasn’t just Hope dying.
The fact you need more changes in order to make the difference makes the initial point that one change can make the difference void. You destroy your own premise… and this is not really a great idea.
But whatever, I guess if the idea is that the audience is really young, they didn’t expect the audience to pick this up but just to swallow their idea that ‘a moment created a new universe’.
MEDIA MENTIONED:
Movies: “Iron Man 2” (2010), “The Incredible Hulk" (2008), “Thor” (2011), “Captain America: The First Avenger” (2011), “The Avengers” (2012), “Thor: The Dark World” (2013), “Captain America: The Civil War” (2016), “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2” (2017), “Thor – Ragnark” (2017), “Black Panther” (2018), "Avengers: Infinity War” (2018), “Captain Marvel” (2019)
Comics: “The Avengers Prelude Fury's Big Week” (2012)
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I’m back!
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So, I kinda quit using this blog a while back. There are some notes about it in my old pinned post and probably on my fanfics, lol, but basically, I felt overwhelmed by fandom and everything going on irl and I crashed. I just withdrew from like, everything. I still logged in on Tumblr but I just liked things to later view them with the boyfriend or laugh at them again myself.
Honestly, it’s not that fun, just doing that, and not really that fair to people who put effort into their posts like art, music, writing, etc., or even just people who are very passionate about a subject and may want it to reach others that are the same. Because I know I’m like that!
But anyway, this is going to be my new pinned post. So! (More under the cut, please keep reading!)
About Me
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You can call me Prowess, I’m a FtM transmasc (he/him please)! I use this space to elevate my personal works, such as art or writing, while also occasionally posting about topics I am passionate about. I realized I was trans in 2020 at the age of 19 years old, in the midst of a pandemic and college fallout, so as you can imagine, I’m still riding the rollercoaster of emotions that come with that. I’m also ADHD... so expect some posts about those sort of things.
But that is hardly the focus! I am big on art and writing. While I am mostly obsessed with Pokemon, I am a lover of stories, and so generally, I love most fiction, even the really bad stuff. Along with my Pokemon stuff, you can expect posts involving ARK: Survival Evolved, The Tales of Miraculous Ladybug & Cat Noir, animated movies (Luca, Toy Story, Spirit - you name it, I probably love it), and plenty of other stuff.
While I have too many older posts to go through and try to sort out the unclean tags, going forward, I am going to use these sort of tags: subject (whatever the post is about, for example, Pokemon), characters depicted, media (whether it’s art, writing, animation, or a mix), and any warnings that may need to go with it (for example, cussing when stronger language is involved, or racism if racism is getting discussed, etc). Memes or one-off posts will likely be tagged with simply “memes.” While this is pretty true for most any blog, this is so you know if you need to block certain tags! For example, if you hate Miraculous Ladybug, you’d just blacklist ‘Miraculous.’
I will also reblog a lot of posts asking for help or boosting awareness. I will try not to inundate the blog with these, but as I will likely have to make a post asking for help at some point myself due to unfortunate irl circumstances, I want to pay it forward in advance. These will be tagged with simply “help needed!”
Below are some projects I’m working on + what you can expect from this blog.
Pokemon Retold
By far, my biggest project to date, is Pokemon Retold.
This is an expansive written anthology of all the pokemon mainline games as far as generation 8. Red, Heart of Gold, Omega Ruby, Platinum, Black, Black 2, Y, Ultra Sun, and Sword are all intended to get rewritten and posted on both my FanFiction.Net and Archive of Our Own accounts. I may also post some chapters here, but I admit Tumblr makes that difficult sometimes.
These stories are very personal to me, as I started writing them when I was struggling in college with undiagnosed ADHD, and felt like my life was falling apart and I was alone. I started writing a retelling of Sword, but the more I wrote, the more disappointed in it I felt, so I started writing Black instead and scrapped Sword altogether.
I’ve had some rough road since, but Black is complete, Black 2 is also complete, and Ultra Sun is (mostly) complete (but with plans to be heavily altered), while Red is underway!
WARNING: These stories can get DARK, and I would rather my readers be over 18. They are not dark with the intent to squick out or upset people, however; they are dark with the intention of exploring thoughts and ideas I find too difficult to think about directly. There are more personalized warnings at the beginnings of each story. With that out of the way, please just try and move on if you find yourself disliking a specific story or part of a story of mine... If you want to give constructive criticism, you are more than welcome, but tearing into me and my writing just because you didn’t like something helps nobody. Keep in mind I write these for fun and as a form of self-therapy throughout some of the worst years of my life.
Furthermore, I edit them a lot. And I do mean a lot. My FFN profile acts as a “changelog” for what has changed in the stories over the course of the time they’ve been posted.
Pokemon Retold posts are tagged “Retold.”
My FFN Profile
My AO3 Profile
Pokemon Retold: Black has been added to TVTropes! I honestly don’t even care that this person digs into it a couple of times, I was so incredibly flattered they took the time to do that at all. (But be warned the page does have some spoilers!) I have no idea if you enjoyed the story or not upon reading over that page, kind stranger lol, but I really appreciate that you took the time to do that nonetheless! <3
Creatively Destructive
This incredibly well-titled story is an idea I have for a retelling of Miraculous Ladybug. I know, I know - absolutely never been done before /s
While I know there has got to be a thousand retellings of this show by now, based on just how.... terrible, the writing is, I want to try anyway. Because I genuinely love the premise of the show! I’m just constantly disappointed by how it seems to never go anywhere with its plot or characters.
So, Creatively Destructive will be a fanfic, and when I have more information on it, I’ll post it under the tag “creatively destructive.”
Roleplays
Me and my boyfriend love to RP a lot. From Monster Hunter to Pokemon, we do a lot of different stories. Sometimes, I really get inspired by what we come up together and I want to share it with others! Be it quick art based on a scene from the RP or a quick rundown of what occurred in an RP, you can catch these in the ‘Prow RP’ tags.
Currently, we are having a lot of fun with an RP based on the Hoenn pokemon games that I am sure I’ll be posting about!
I may also be open to RPs with others in the future :> Don’t be offended that I’m not open to them already... I’m just a very easily overstimulated person.
The Ballad of the ARK
ARK: Survival Evolved is a lot of things. It’s an amazing concept, an open-world game where you befriend dinos and fight alongside tribemates against other tribes, or work together to survive the hostile environment. But the true tragedy of this game goes so much deeper than that, and I want to explore that in writing, starting with my story, my experience, and then graduating to where I think the issue primarily stems from. 
This strange memoir will be posted under the tags of “Ballad of ARK.”
Commissions
I hope to take commissions for art and writing in the future!
However, I need to figure out the parameters of what I’m willing to draw (and what I can feasibly draw), as well as what I can promise when it comes to writing, not to mention pricing.
That’s not to say I’m not open to ideas though! Feel free to message me/send me asks anyway and we’ll see if we can work something out. :)
Although I am not in a financial disaster just yet, I feel like I am not far from one. This is why I hope to try to build on commissions in the future. I know they will never support me, but I would still like to try to be useful and helpful to some. I currently live with my grandmother, having left my abusive home with my father, and although she generously allows me to live with her for the low cost of merely helping with some electricity and my own food, I struggle to remain abovewater financially due to difficulty finding work (thanks to issues with ADHD and physical problems following a bout with COVID in early January 2021).
If you would like to help anyway, feel free to subscribe to my Patreon, or make a one-time payment via PayPal. I promise no matter what or how much it is, your generosity is greatly appreciated!! <3
My Patreon
My PayPal
My Ko-fi
(Note that my Patreon is... very outdated and needs to be updated. I will do that soon!)
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offda-rails-art · 3 years
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Been a while since I’ve enjoyed art. I finally finished my story-no color becuase paint is expensive and I can expand more by doing what I love most-sketching. Slight gore warning, like typical horror movie gore⚠️
Thank you for anyone following me recently, even though I haven’t been very active. I hope this makes up for it. Peace and love. Lochlan’s story part one👇
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The countryside of Hennessy had a horrible storm roll in. It poured endlessly all night and into morning. The seemingly endless pounding rain made everything a muddy slippery mess, and with that the tracks were overflowed with water. Travel for any engine was dangerous so it was decided that everyone would take the day off and wait out the storm inside. Old Red, Donner, and Cracker Jack had already been in the roundhouse that night and early in the morning they were told “no work for today. Too dangerous.”
Lochlan had still been on his job pulling a long train all night. Something that had been expected to be finished by early morning was delayed by the rain. Lochlan went along the tracks carefully and managed to deliver his train by late afternoon meanwhile the rest of the engines back at the roundhouse were confined to their berths all day. And with that the group of 3 were very bored.
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Lochlan backed his way into his respective berth, he was soaked from being in the down pour all day. He was also visibly tired from his tedious journey of start stop all through the wet slippery tracks. Before the poor big engine could get a word out Cracker Jack piped up. “About time! Reds been going on and on about silly stories. We’ve traded back and forth on interesting ones of our own. Well, Donner and I at least. Reds giving the whole “Wild West romance, forbidden engine/human love” spiel again.” Cracker Jack groaned.
“My recounts of pistol packing cowgirls are not romance stories! I’m simply making it clear that women are just as dangerous as men! That’s all!” Red growled quick to defend himself. His face turning slightly pink.
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that you old fart.” Cracker Jack smirked. Even Donner gave a slight chuckle in agreement.
Lochlan smiled and shook what water dripped down his face off. Cracker Jack grinned up at Lochlan expectantly. “Suppose you have anything of your own to share?” Cracker Jack asked, his grin widened hoping that Lochlan would have a story to tell. At least one that wouldn’t put him to sleep. Or any about his love interests.
“Me? What kind of story? I don’t do much that interesting.” Lochlan sighed and tried to think of anything worth telling.
“Lochlan. You’re huge. You see the world from a different point of view everyday. You do the more than any other engine on the railway. You’ve been everywhere, you must have something?” Cracker Jack retorted. Lochlan frowned and clicked his tongue in thought. A loud crack of thunder boomed in the background and shook the roundhouse. The 4 engines jumped at the sudden loud noise. The natural fearful reaction to the loud noise gave Lochlan an idea.
��What about a scary story?” He smiled and knew exactly what to share. The other three raised their brows in interest. Cracker Jack noticeably grew attentive.
“Yes! I think we can all agree that horror over a whole romance novel is sure to help pass the time!” Cracker Jack grinned. It took Red a second to process the slight dig made at him. He only grumbled and rolled his eyes.
“Good! I have just the one! It happened the very first week I arrived here.” Lochlan grinned and cleared his throat to begin.
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When Lochlan first arrived at Hennessy he was immediately tasked with pulling long trains of heavy and important cargo for distances many other engines couldn’t travel. He traveled from late at night till very early morning so naturally his rest time in the afternoon was spent in any noisy bustling yard he could manage to get a break in. Most of the time Lochlan couldn’t sleep with all the noise. He didn’t mind not napping but peace and quiet was something he could definitely enjoy. It seemed that wouldn’t be an option for a while with his break schedule. So, Lochlan decided to eavesdrop on his human counterparts. They did after all have interesting things to share. While in a yard one afternoon the prefect opportunity to eavesdrop came in, a group of engineers decided to take their break not far away from him. They sat down on some old flatbeds and joked around for a while. The oldest man in the group began talking about his past colleague who was a Native American. He recounted all kinds of interesting things his colleague shared. From ancestral meanings to cultural symbols, but then he brought up something strange. Lochlan grew curious and listened in best he could. The engineer asked the others if they ever heard what a “wendigo” was. The two men shook their heads. Lochlan listened in as the man explained to them what it was, and the reason for bringing it up.
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The engineer grew serious before beginning, “ a couple years back a rancher went missing out by his home just a good ten miles from the south side of Hennessy. No one knew how he could possibly go missing, he was in touch with the locals and was a very smart man. He knew the wildlife and his homeland well enough to where an animal attack was ruled out. He carried a gun on him all the time to stay safe and no one would want to harm a lonely rancher with not much of anything to give anyway. Robbery and murder was ruled out too, especially after his home was found kept well with nothing out of the ordinary or missing. He just seemed to have vanished along with his horse and dog. The sheriff decided he could’ve left unannounced for private reasons and perhaps he would turn up soon. It wasn’t until a week later a hunter stumbled across what was left of the poor rancher. He was so severely mangled that the only thing that showed proof it was him was his hat, horse and dog. Whatever creature that did that couldn’t possibly be a bear, or even a pack of wolves. Only the rancher looked like something had eaten parts of him. His horse and dog were for the most part untouched, the possibility a rabid bear attacked him was brought up due to the massive claw marks and slashes embedded in his horse and dog. And how badly the man was shredded. But what bear could be that big? A search for whatever rabid bear or sick pack of wolves was put out but nothing was recovered.
No one wanted to admit but they were scared. The scene was so brutal it seemed almost impossible another living thing could do that. It was swept under the rug and everyone tried to forget about it in hopes it would just go away. It seems there’s no answer for what happened right? Well your wrong, that’s were this “wendigo” comes in. Wendigos have an insatiable hunger for human flesh, they crave taunting people and torturing them until giving them a brutal horrible death only to feast on their scared poor souls. They tower above the tallest pine trees, make blood curdling screams, and can strip the flesh from your bones instantly. He wasn’t attacked by a rabid animal, he was murdered and eaten alive by one of those foul beasts. Only something that big and mercilessly brutal could’ve done such a thing. And why eat just the person? An animal would’ve taken all it could get. Dog and horse would’ve been part of the main course as well.”
The two other men who listened in shuddered upon the end of the tale. Lochlan was intrigued but was interrupted by his crew coming to fetch him from his break. He needed to get back to work and couldn’t listen in anymore. He sighed and set off to collect his train, he had plenty of time to ponder what he just heard on his long quiet journey.
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Lochlan enjoyed the unexplainable, everything had an explanation. An answer. While the story of the wendigo was interesting to him he couldn’t help but believe it was simply a tall tale. Even with how big and goofy the engine could be, he wasn’t gullible. The only way he’d believe something is if he witnessed it first hand. And as far as he knew he never saw any forest animal that towered over pine trees or had a specific desire for human flesh. But for some reason something inside him wouldn’t let go of it. The story was kept in the back of his mind and not forgotten.
Lochlans first week on Hennessy’s railway was almost over. He already gotten familiar with the area and his routes in the short time he was there. His job went swillingly and it was something he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days doing. Oh, and no strange gigantic monsters hungry for human flesh appeared. There was one route Lochlan hadn’t traveled yet, and the unkept longer line of tracks was only taken if necessary but no reason was ever really given as to why it wasn’t used. But with only almost a week of experience on the railway he had a lot more to learn and explore.
While Lochlan pulled a long train of cargo with the morning newspaper edition, important mail, and dairy that needed to get to its destination quickly in order to not spoil he came to a stop when he realized his normal route back into Hennessy was blocked. Someone had derailed and a big mess of tar trucks were scattered everywhere. Lochlans engineers grew frustrated and argued with the crewmen in charge of cleaning up the wreck. “Listen pal, it’s going to take all night to clean this mess up. You’ll just have to wait until morning to pass through or go through the south side.” The agitated worker groaned and pointed up ahead to a route Lochlan wasn’t familiar with.
“Well. We most certainly ain’t got time to wait. I’ve got the morning paper to deliver and dairy that will spoil! Come on big feller we’ll just have to go through the south side which will still delay our schedule because some incompetent idiot can’t operate an engine worth Jack shit.” Lochlans engineer growled and made his way back to his cab. Lochlan looked on curiously up ahead at this new route. The grass ahead was severely overgrown, and by the looks of the track no one seemed to have been down it for a decade. His cow plow would come in handy to shove away any overgrowth that littered the track up ahead. Lochlan puffed down the track without incident. He sliced through any overgrowth that littered his path, and was thankful for his bright headlamp because it seemed any lights that lit up the track before had been left not repaired. Lochlan had come upon something odd as he plunged further down the unused route. A herd of deer were stopped close by the tracks, what was odd to him was that the animals didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. It was normal for the forest animals to hurriedly clear the way when any loud engine chuffed close, to the animals an engine was another predator to run away from. But the large herd of deer stood stalk still, their backs turned towards him and their heads cocked up looking into the distance at something. They didn’t dare move and their fear was focused on something Lochlan couldn’t see. Lochlan raised a brow and chuffed by but the deer didn’t move. Even as steam whooshed out and his own massive frame rumbled on the rails shaking the ground. The deer seemed to care less about him. It was one of the most peculiar things he had seen, but he had no idea it was about to get worse.
Tumblr limits posts and I have to many illustrations to do one part. So I’ll have to skeet part two in another separate post. Stick around for the second part if you enjoy so far. Thanks so much for people who’ve stuck around my blog and actually wanted to read my stories. I really really appreciate it.
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kaydeefalls · 3 years
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@tardis-stowaway​ tagged me in a “get to know you better” meme, and I am always a sucker for an askmeme, so thank you!
favourite colour: I love a good, rich purple.
currently reading: apart from all the fic in the world? I’ve been REALLY bad about reading actual books since the pandemic started -- I’ll read like half a novel in one sitting and then ignore it for months for no particular reason. Yesterday I read a few chapters of “The Fated Sky”, which is the second book in the Lady Astronauts series by Mary Robinette Kowal. I really really enjoy it! I have no idea why I’ve left it sit untouched after started it several month ago! And now I’ll probably ignore it again in favor of fic for a while. (I think it’s the mobility thing -- I like to read CONSTANTLY, which means fic on my phone has a huge advantage because it goes with me everywhere, while a physical book feels more like a Specific Choice That I Am Making With My Time Now.)
last song: According to the playlist I was listening to yesterday, Vienna Teng’s “Momentum”. I only really listen to music when I’m out for a walk.
last series: I am working my way through FX’s Trust in fits and starts while my wife is out of town (because I know she would have ZERO interest in it), which means I should probably finish it this weekend. It’s very, very well done and also very intense, so I’ll binge a few episodes in a row and then not watch again for a week. But Luca Marinelli is indeed deliciously unhinged in it, as promised by the twelve thousand Primo gifsets I’ve already seen. (Real MVP of the series is Brendan Fraser, though, he’s a goddamn delight.)
last movie: Eternals, which I enjoyed a lot more than I was expecting! I like that it was so deeply character-driven in a way that the MCU has strayed away from lately; unfortunately, the leading characters were by far the least interesting to me. More Phastos and Makkari and Gilgamesh (and Kingo, though he had plenty of screentime as the primary comic foil), please. I still kinda resent the comparisons to Old Guard, which did the immortality and relationships far, far better, but Eternals is telling a completely different story, so that helps.
sweet, savory, or spicy: All are good, but also, sweet all the way.
currently working on: I’ve been blocked for over a month now -- basically I haven’t written anything since posting the purpose of art. There has been a lot of traumatic emotional upheaval in my wife’s family this past month, and while I’m not directly impacted, it’s been...simultaneously A Lot and long empty stretches of nothing all at once, since there’s nothing I can do about any of it and my wife has been halfway across the country for weeks to be with them while I’m just here alone pretending to be productive at work, and my mental health has been kind of crap. So, yeah. This week I’ve been trying to force myself to finish the Finn/Poe soulmark fic I abandoned over a year ago, since if I can’t manage any new creative energy I might as well slog away at something I’ve long since lost the spark for anyway, and I’ve made a little progress there -- shuffling a few things around, hammering out connective tissue between scene fragments I’d already written, coming up with a workable if uninspired outline for the last chapter. I’m hoping my need to be DONE with this fucking WIP will beat off depression brain enough to actually finish it. I hate having it hang over my head. But yeah. It’s been a fucking miserable month. Figures that the ONE perk of having the apartment to myself for weeks is having plenty of time to write, so of course my brain goes on strike and I can’t write a damn thing.
Tagging people is stressful. If you want to play along, consider yourself tagged!
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actress4him · 3 years
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Overexposure - New Ideas
(Prompt #17 for Summer of Whump)
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Warnings: lady whumpee with male whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, captivity, referenced beating, noncon touching (non-sexual), forced stripping (non-sexual), restraints, stress position
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It’s only a few days after the exhibit, a few days after the brutal beating Ellery received for trying to ask for help, when the door to her room flies open and he’s standing there with that smile on his face. The smile she hates more than anything. The smile that says she’s about to suffer even more.
“Good morning, Princess.” Lucas strolls into the room - the cell, really, just a tiny corner of the basement built expressly for the purpose of keeping her inside. “In the midst of the fallout from your misguided attempt the other night, I failed to mention how much of a success the exhibit was. Everyone adored you.”
Her skin crawls at the thought, but she knows better than to respond by now. Instead she pulls her knees up to her chest, hugging them to herself as if she can keep him away.
“I’m getting plenty of sales, too. So many people who want to have our beautiful artwork all for themselves.”
She knows better than to respond, but she can’t help it. The image of those photos hanging on someone’s walls, or being hidden away to look at secretly… “Guess they’re just as sick as you are.”
All of her muscles tense up as soon as she says it, expecting him to lash out. But he must be in an awfully good mood, because he simply ignores the outburst, pacing toward the tiny table with his hands clasped behind his back.
“I’ve been getting requests, too. Some from patrons at the last exhibit, others from people who have seen my previous work.” He turns, leaning up against the table, eyes roving over her body in the way he does when she knows he’s imagining ways to torture it. “Seems like there’s a whole collection of people out there who love...well, I keep hearing the word ‘whump’, but...basically, they draw all kinds of inspiration from what we’re doing. And now they’d like to see something...a little less refined, a little more...hm, how do I say it? A little more...raw. Primitive.”
The smile creeps back onto his face. “It’s something I’ve never done before, but I’m certainly up to the challenge. I’ve got ideas already. And I have a feeling once I get started I’ll be quite inspired to keep going.”
No wonder he’s in a good mood. He’s in his creative zone, which means a nightmare of a day for her. And it’s so soon, she’s still healing, her body isn’t ready.
He won’t care about any of that, though.
“Alright, come on, chop chop! Up to makeup we go.”
It’s one of the few instances when she’s allowed out of the basement, so she tries to enjoy it. If she cranes her neck as they come to the top of the stairs, she can catch a glimpse of green and sunlight through a sliver of window, and overall the rooms upstairs are much brighter. It’s a refreshing change.
Lucas’ assistant, whose name she’s never bothered to learn, is ready and waiting in the usual spot with her makeup and hair tools. It’s the one thing that he doesn’t do himself. Ellery expects the same treatment for the bruise around her eye - now turned a sickly yellow - as it got for the exhibit, but it’s ignored. Instead the assistant focuses on eyeliner, mascara, and a little bit of lip color. The basics, meant to make her features pop in the photos, nothing fancy. Maybe that’s what he meant by ‘raw and primitive’. She can certainly hope that it’s nothing worse, though hope has done her a fat lot of good so far.
“You want her hair pulled back at all?” the assistant asks.
Lucas, who has been lurking the whole time, watching the process, steps forward and runs thick fingers through her long black hair. She doesn’t bother to suppress a shudder and a look of disgust, but doesn’t try to pull away, either.
“Yeah. Go ahead and put it up, something simple, though. Simple and messy. I might take it down partway through, we’ll see.”
It’s brushed back into a ponytail with lots of strands hanging down around her face, and the top is fussed over until it’s perfectly, believably messy. The assistant looks up to Lucas for approval.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. I like it. Okay, moving on.”
This is the point where her starting wardrobe is usually chosen. She stands, waiting while he scrutinizes her current outfit of a baggy white t-shirt and black cotton shorts.
“Take that off, remind me what you have on under it.”
Ellery’s face flushes scarlet. She hates this, hates obeying and hates demeaning herself for him, but last time she refused to take off the clothes herself he just did it for her, and that was so much worse. And it’s not like he’s actually interested in her, not in that way. She was so incredibly afraid of that for a long time. But no, to him she’s not a person for him to want. She’s a piece of art, a canvas, a sculpture. A thing. All he’s thinking of is how he can best use her to create the ‘masterpiece’ he has in mind.
So she slips the t-shirt off over her head. Stands in just her sports bra and shorts with her cheeks burning and wishes that she could melt into the floor and cease to exist.
The expression that comes over his face is nothing short of delight. “Ooh, this is so much better than I was expecting.” He practically trots over to her, eyes on her bare stomach, and reaches out to brush his fingers along the tender, aching skin. She flinches, instinctively pulls back, but he only latches onto her waist, digging his fingers into a myriad of bruises. “This is fantastic. Just what we need for today. So glad I gave you these already.”
Gave her. Like the beating was a gift. She doesn’t need to look down to know that her torso is pretty much one giant bruise, she can feel it just fine.
“Yep. That’ll be perfect. Leave it just like that. No sense in covering up any of this beauty.” He strokes his fingers across her stomach one more time before stepping back to admire the whole thing. “Alright, thank you, Jordan. Let’s get back to the studio.”
The studio - aka the basement. Back down to the cold concrete walls and the artificial lights. She can’t help but slow, just a little, as they pass the room with the window, trying to get one more little peek of the outdoors. She pays for it with his hand coming to land on the back of her neck, squeezing tightly, promising much more pain if she doesn’t keep walking.
The area of the basement that Lucas uses to take her photos isn’t much to speak of, especially today when the white backdrop is rolled up at the ceiling. It’s just an expanse of grey, but it haunts her nightmares.
“Alright.” Lucas is practically giddy with excitement. “I’ve got so many ideas I don’t know where to start. No, scratch that. I do know where I want to start.” He turns to his shelf of props and rummages through a box, pulling out several pieces of metal with chains draping in between.
The dread that had been swirling in Ellery’s stomach all morning suddenly solidifies into something heavy, a stone that simultaneously pulls her down into the floor and threatens to make her sick. She can’t do this again. She can’t. The pain of being stretched into positions her body was never meant to be in, the humiliation of being photographed in the most vulnerable state possible...and now it’s even worse, because she’s already in pain from being beaten.
Lucas is at the far wall, tinkering with his contraption, using existing bolts and screws from previous sessions to attach things to both the wall and floor. “Come here,” he says after a few minutes, and it’s the last straw.
Something inside of her crumples.
“Please…” It comes out as no more than a trembling whisper, but it catches his attention anyway. “Please don’t, I can’t, I can’t, please…”
Sighing heavily, he walks toward her, boots clomping out her doom on the concrete floor. “I thought we were past this, Princess. You’d been doing so well.”
She opens her mouth, to say what, she doesn’t know, it’s all pointless anyway, but before a sound makes it past her lips his fist is connecting with her temple. Her world is reduced to black and pain and falling. When her vision returns, the room whirls around her, Lucas’ face up above hers dipping and bobbing in a way that makes her stomach churn, and her head throbs. She can tell she’s being dragged, though, by the ankle over to where he wanted her.
Rough hands grab her by the arms and heft her to her feet, and the room goes spinning again. Her back is pressed up against the wall, concrete blocks cold on her bare skin, and Lucas wraps an arm around her waist to lift her slightly. She gasps as he puts pressure on the ribs she’s pretty sure are broken.
A second later, something thin and cool falls across her throat, and after he fiddles with something just under her ear for a moment, Lucas steps back and leaves her to settle down onto her bare toes. They just barely touch the floor enough for her to rest her weight on, the metal across her neck digging slightly into her skin and threatening to cut off her air. She tries not to notice him watching her as she struggles to adjust her feet to push herself a little higher.
“Nice. I love it already. Actually, hang on, I’m also loving the disoriented look you’ve got going on right now. I need a shot of that.”
He grabs his camera and gets right up in her face. Ellery automatically squeezes her eyes shut, hating that lens, hating the thought of anyone else seeing her like this, but all she gets for it is his finger poking her in the ribs. Her eyes fly open as she cries out, and the camera clicks. Once, twice, three times.
“Ooh, I don’t know which one of these I like best.” He studies the screen with a grin, flipping back and forth through the shots. “The hazy, disoriented look I was going for, or the gasping in pain. And the restraint around the neck really sets it off. Fantastic. Okay, moving on.”
Bending down, he picks up the rest of the metal pieces, the ones with the chains attached. While she wasn’t paying attention it seems he had hooked one end of the chains to the floor, several feet out in front of her, and now he brings the other end to her. She only finds out what it is for sure when he yanks her hands away from the wall where she had been attempting to help support herself and clamps it around her wrists. The shackles pull her arms out in front of her, naturally making her body want to lean forward, too. But if she gives into the pull, or if her feet get tired and try to lower, she’ll choke.
Lucas stands back to admire his work. “Yes. Just as good as I had hoped. And you’re already starting to get that wild look in your eyes, too. I think if I leave you here for, oh -” he checks his phone -“around thirty or forty-five minutes, I’ll really get the desperation I’m looking for. Maybe an hour. We’ll see.”
With that, he turns and heads for the stairs. As the echo of his footsteps dies out, Ellery finally lets the tears start to pour down her cheeks. She can’t spare the focus to stop them anymore, anyway. All of her concentration until he decides she’s done is going to have to be on staying balanced so she doesn’t die.
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Disclaimer: I don’t think people who like whump are “sick”. Obviously, I am one of them. Now, if there were actually people like Lucas out there who hurt real people for whump’s sake, then yeah. They would be considered “sick”. But of course, Lucas’ patrons don’t know what he’s really doing...or do they...?
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ravs6709 · 3 years
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These Feelings Inside (How Deep Do They Go)
Chapter 1- Filled With Warmth
Artwork found here by @xkcd2020!
Read on ao3
Masterlist. Previous. Next.
Sophie Foster has been pining after Fitz Vacker for years. With no sign of him returning the feelings, she goes through heartbreak. A siren takes advantage of this, and tries to transfer their curse to her. However, the process goes awry. Now, Sophie must find a way to stay human, or risk losing her memories- or the memories of those she loves.
Aka a Sokeefitz au heavily inspired by Siren's Lament (the webtoon by instantmiso)
Side ships include Marellinh, QPR Dexiana, and some bonus ones!
Okay, so uh... hi! This is my contribution to the @kotlc2021collab! It's a little late for reasons, but it's now here! Thank you to @fanartofthelostcities for being my beta reader, and @xkcd2020 for being my artist! The summary for this fic is above! I'm so excited to share this with you, I've enjoyed myself writing, and I hope you enjoy reading it!
So welcome to chapter 1, aka, the really long prologue! I'm not going to say much else, but just one thing so to not be confused at first. Fitz is a trans guy, but he doesn't come out until later in the chapter.
Warnings: Mentioned death
Anyways, enjoy! Oh, and the art can be found here!
•~•~•~•~•~•
Sophie Foster pulled her grey hoodie further over her head, pulling the strings so everything could be blocked out. The sight, the sounds, everything . But it wasn't working at all. When, just when, would all these people just leave her alone?
•~•~•~•~•~•
Her first day of middle school wasn't as bad. As long as she kept herself invisible, stopped herself from standing out, her experiences from before wouldn't be repeated. She would get through the day, and then meet the new people who had decided to adopt her.
It worked. Nobody bothered paying attention to the small girl wearing dull colours. It was a relief.
She didn't even remember what happened next, only that her temporary guardian had come in, saying that her new parents had arrived. Sophie pulled the hood off of her head, but she still kept her arms in her pocket.
When she stepped out of the room, she saw the two new faces. They looked a little older than she'd imagined, somewhere in their fifties, maybe? Two figures stood there: one with amber hair and a serene smile; the other blond with a more friendly grin.
"Hello Sophie," the amber-haired one greeted. "I heard your pronouns are she and her, right?"
Sophie gave them a hesitant smile, then nodded. If they were polite enough to confirm that, then they couldn't be that bad, would it?
"I'm Edaline, she and her."
"I'm Grady," the other one added. "He and him. If you prefer, you can call us mom and dad. Or use our names, your choice." He added when she didn't say anything else.
"We'll do our best to make sure that you feel happy," Edaline promised. "But for now, small steps. You'll come with us to your new home. If you need, we'll give you space, but we'll be right here."
"Okay," Sophie murmured.
And it wasn't too bad. They were exceptionally kind, and it felt nice. Sometimes, they would look tired and distance themselves a little bit, but Sophie understood, as sometimes, she felt the same way.
With her home life improving, it made her feel better about herself. Still, no one had tried to hurt her at school, so maybe, just maybe, she could stop trying to blend in that much. Maybe she could try and make a friend?
•~•~•~•~•~•
Out of the sports that they had played in gym class, volleyball was her favourite. But even then, it was way more fun to watch than to actually play. There was one girl in her class who just seemed to have a lot of fun though. Her name was Biana, and she was talented. She was light on her feet, and her teal eyes would gleam whenever she made a good volley.
They were like opposites in just about every way. Sophie was frail and pale and blonde and bad at social interactions and physical exercises. Biana was chubby, had brown skin and brown hair, she had plenty of friends and she was actually good at more sports than volleyball. They were completely different people, in different worlds too.
So when Biana came up to her, she was surprised. Because this was Biana Vacker! What was she doing talking to Sophie?
"You're Sophie, right?" The brunette asked. Sophie blinked, because Biana remembered her name? "I'm Biana! Wanna be my partner for volleying practice?"
Sophie looked around. She didn't even realize when their gym teacher had given the order to be in pairs. She looked back at Biana in shock. Usually, Sophie was one of the people who was last to find their partner. 
"Okay."
"Great!" She stepped away so they could start the exercise.
The ball went back and forth, and it was enjoyable. The ball hardly ever touched the ground. On Sophie's side, it was a little weak, but Biana didn't make any complaints about it, nor did she tease her. Occasionally, she even received praises.
"You're pretty good actually," Biana stated. "A little weak, but you have potential. Are you just scared?"
Sophie shrugged, before rushing to hit the ball again. It was sloppier than intended, but it made it to the general location it was supposed to, so it was fine.
The whistle was blown, signifying the end of the activity.
"That was fun! I'll see you around!"
Sophie only gave a nod as Biana moved to join one of the groups that would play in a game. This didn't seem too bad actually. 
•~•~•~•~•~•
Just like Biana had said, Sophie would see her quite frequently. At first it was only in gym class. Biana came up to her a few more times and asked to be her partner. Then during science.
"Do you understand this part?" Biana asked as she leaned on the desk.
They were doing electricity. The sciences weren't really Sophie’s best subjects, but she was still able to understand them quite well. So Sophie nodded, and explained it the best she could. Apparently it worked, as Biana let out an "oh that makes sense", flashed her a smile and then went back to her desk.
It happened like that. The interactions weren't huge, they were small and comfortable. They were pleasant, actually. But there was just one thing.
"How come you've been talking to me so much recently?" She couldn't help but ask.
Biana froze for a moment, then continued walking. "I just felt like it, I guess. You looked like you wanted someone to talk to."
Sophie wasn't quite sure if she liked that answer. "That kinda sounds like pity."
"No! That's not what I meant! I mean, I know I'm pretty popular, but it's not like I was always like this. I get how it feels, wondering what it's like to have friends. And if I could be that person in someone's life, I think that's a good thing."
That made a little more sense, even if Sophie didn't understand it. "Don't you have your other friends?"
"It doesn't hurt to expand the friend circle, does it? I've wanted to invite you to my place for a while now, but it always seemed like you weren't quite comfortable."
Sophie hummed. "My elementary school experiences weren't exactly… pleasant."
Even thinking about it gave her the urge to pull out an eyelash. This time, she gave in to it.
"Oh. That's awful. I promise you I won't treat you so badly. My class is here, I'll see you later!"
Sophie smiled. "I'll think about it. Your offer."
"That's enough for me."
She went through the next class feeling surprisingly light. It must have been apparent because when she got home, Grady and Edaline noticed.
"I'm glad to see you smiling," Edaline told her. "Have a good day?"
She nodded. "I've made a friend."
Grady looked up from his laptop and smiled. "That's good, kiddo. What's their name?"
"Her name's Biana Vacker."
"A Vacker, huh," Grady murmured. "I knew a Vacker. I haven't heard from him in… close to fifteen years?"
"I think Juline told me that he moved out of the city around twelve years ago," Edaline told him.
"Did you know Biana's… biological father?" The words sounded weird in her mouth, but considering that Biana had once mentioned that she'd never met her father, and that her mom married another woman, it was probably the best term to use.
It was also odd hearing that Grady was familiar with someone. Not that he wasn't friendly- he was one of the more friendly people that Sophie knew. And being friendly helped when it came to working in the shop.
It felt like they were just being polite. They'd have small conversations with the customers, but that was it. They almost never left Havenfield. They were pretty distant. Sophie didn't mind it though, because sometimes, she needed a space where it would just be silent, and she could recharge.
"I don’t know if it's the same Vacker though. Does Biana have an older sister named Reina?"
Sophie thought about it for a moment. Biana was talkative, and Sophie didn't always pay attention, especially when it was more noise than she'd prefer. But she did remember an offhand comment about an older sister named Reina who had started high school. She nodded.
"Then yeah, I knew him. He wasn't the friendliest person I knew though. We worked together for a little bit."
"Oh."
"Tell me about Biana," Edaline said. "Is she a good friend?"
Sophie nodded again. "She's nice."
"That's good, it's always nice to have a friend."
Sophie noticed the solemn looks that Grady and Edaline shared, but she didn't think to question it.
"She wants to invite me to her house, but I don't know when yet. Would I be allowed to go?"
"Just text us when you ask," Edaline said. "We'll let you know if we need you here or not."
•~•~•~•~•~•
It was about a week later when Sophie decided that she's ready to go to Biana's. With each day that had passed by, she found it easier to hold a conversation. It was a nice feeling, and she wished that she'd been able to feel like this during elementary school. Maybe that was how most people felt.
She walked over to Biana's locker.
"Hi Biana," she began, her voice a little quieter than she'd like it to be.
Biana turned to her, her face brightening. "You wanna come over today?"
She nodded.
"You want me to invite some friends too? Or do you just want it to be the two of us?"
"The two of us, if that's okay."
"That's fine with me. Do your parents know?"
Sophie took out her phone and texted them- she was always more comfortable texting than calling. A minute later, she had a reply saying that she could go.
"They do now."
"Great!" she said, slamming the locker shut and then locking it. "Let me call maan first. But we could start walking home by the time."
Biana took out her phone and called Della, and there was another approval. "You wanna link arms?"
Sophie looked at Biana's arm, then back at hers. Before she could decide otherwise, she linked her arm. They continued walking until they reached a large house that seemed to glow. Not a mansion, but still large. If she saw it a year earlier, she'd feel intimidated, but Havenfield Flowers was huge too, so she was a little more used to it. There wasn't any car in the driveway, which meant that Biana's mom- Della wasn't home, and neither was her wife.
"Maan will be home soon, so will mom. Reina's probably inside, or she'll be here soon."
They went inside, and sure enough, Reina was in there. Sophie had never seen Reina before, but it was obvious that it was her. She had the same teal eyes as Biana, and the same brown hair. She was taller though, her hair shoulder length instead of waist length.
"Haven't seen you stare at me for that long," Biana whispered, jabbing her gently with an elbow. "We practically look the same."
"I wasn't staring," Sophie hissed. "That's just weird."
"I mean, I can't control when my aesthetic attraction strikes. People are pretty, I'm not gonna shame you for that."
Sophie thought about the times before. Because people were pretty. Not just boys, girls too. She found it hard to be subtle about it, and it wasn't the first time someone had noticed. Just the first time for this year. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to directly come out yet, so instead she said something else.
"They are." Then she walked over to Reina. "You're Biana's sister, right? Hello, I'm Sophie."
Her voice was pretty calm, which was a success. It didn't even matter that she wasn't making eye contact at the moment.
"Hi Sophie," Reina greeted. "Nice to meet you."
She nodded back. She didn't know what to say next, but luckily, Biana saved her.
"Sophie, do you play video games? We can play Mario Kart."
She smiled. "I like Mario Kart."
"Be careful Biana," Reina said. "You might find someone that'll beat you."
"If you lose to her I'm making fun of you for the next month."
Sophie had a feeling that she walked into a sibling rivalry. She took one of the controllers, and they started playing. At first she had to adjust to the controls as it had been a while since she last played, so she started off losing to both of the sisters. Reina looked smug while Biana looked almost disappointed.
The next match though, Sophie started off doing okay, but she managed to stay right behind the two sisters. She smirked when she got a blue shell, and waited for the right timing. She shouted in triumph when it hit the both of them and she passed them both, before winning the race.
Both of them gaped at her.
"You- since when were you behind us?" Biana asked.
Reina looked at her smugly. "I told you to be careful."
"Shut up!"
Sophie smiled. If this was what she had in store for the future, she didn't mind it.
•~•~•~•~•~•
Living at a flower shop meant that Sophie learned a lot about flowers. Customers would come in, and ask for flowers to suit an occasion.
"An apology?" Edaline asked. "Purple hyacinth would be nice."
Then she would move and get some of the flowers and place them in a bouquet. "I wish you luck."
The customer would pay and thank her. 
So when Grady went to get some dendrobium orchids, Sophie immediately realized.
The shop's closed, why would he need those?
They often symbolized respect and perfection. But there weren't any customers to sell them to. Edaline emerged from her room, wearing green, just like Grady was.
"Edaline?" Sophie asked. "What's going on?"
She felt like she had an idea, but she needed the remaining pieces to connect this puzzle.
"We're… planning to see someone," she explained, her voice sombre. "A… death anniversary. You don't have to come with us if you don't want to."
The words clicked. Dendrobium orchids were also used for mourning. The green they wore represented life. She vaguely remembered seeing a picture of a blonde-haired person, but she had never asked about it.
"I'll come with you, give me a few moments."
She went and took a shower, then changed into a green shirt and black pants. They left the shop and went into the car. It was silent.
"Can… can you tell me about them?" Sophie asked.
Grady and Edaline shared a look.
"She was our daughter. Her name was Jolie. She was a lot like you. Both kind and expressive, though she didn't have as much struggle showing it as you do."
"What happened to her?"
"She… she lost someone important to her. The pain was too much for her."
Oh . That explained so much. While they were aware that she would need space, they also did it because they needed it. If she reminded them of Jolie, then it had to have been painful.
"How… how long has it been?"
"This is the fifth year."
"Don't feel too bad about it," Grady told her. "I think I know what you're thinking. It… it is tough, but we wouldn't adopt you if we didn't want you. You're not causing us pain."
"...thank you, dad."
She looked at the car mirror to see his reaction, and she felt warmth when he smiled.
They arrived at the cemetery. It was quiet as they walked up to the grave.
Jolie Lucine Ruewen.
She was bright and always spread joy with her optimism. She was loved by many. Rest in peace.
1984-2006
She closed her eyes and listened as her parents mourned their first daughter. She never found herself to be that religious, but she sent her wishes, hoping that wherever Jolie was, she was content.
•~•~•~•~•~•
Sophie had stayed by Biana's side throughout the rest of middle school, and then went to high school, the same that Reina attended. Biana had decided to hang out with Sophie some more, and had distanced herself from some of her other friends.
"What about some of your other friends?" Sophie asked.
"I'm still keeping in touch with them, but I find that I don't feel like being around them as often. I just think it's better for my mental health, to not force myself to be around people I don't want to be around."
There was an implication that Biana actively wanted to be around her, but the thought alone was hard to process.
With that, Sophie found herself spending a lot of time with Biana and Reina. She didn't really have any other friends, but she was fine with the ones she had. Besides, she'd also recently met Dex- the nephew of Grady and Edaline.
As time passed by, she grew even closer to both Biana and Reina. 
It wasn't love at first sight, like people said it was. There was the warmth, the smile, the joy. All of those things were present when she was with her friends. Biana stayed by her side and always made her feel more welcome. But there was something about Reina that ended up catching her attention.
"Sophie, you're staring again," Biana whispered.
"I'm not!" she hissed, because Reina was right there.
"I'd tell you to stare at me instead, considering we look alike, but I'm too aro for this."
Sophie blinked. "You're aro?"
Biana shrugged. "I didn't tell you?
"She's very much aromantic!" Reina chimed in from the other couch.
"That's cool!" And for some reason, she felt the need to blurt out, "I'm bi."
"I kinda figured with the whole 'people are pretty' incident," Biana said. "But thanks for telling me outright."
It was such a casual response that really made it easier for Sophie.
•~•~•~•~•~•
Sophie was able to admit that Reina did look good. But that was all there was to it. Or well, that had been it. 
It happened during lunch. They usually ate somewhere that was relatively peaceful. Her earbuds had broken the other day, so she couldn't listen to music. On top of that, a crowd gathered in the hallway that they were sitting at.
She didn't know why they were there, but what she did know was that they were loud . Each sound felt like it was piercing through her ears. It was too loud, and she didn't have the music she needed to drown it out. She pulled her hoodie over her head, and put her hand over her ears. But it was still too loud.
She was pretty sure that she wasn't breathing, but she couldn't get herself to do it. There was too much, and she couldn't handle it. But then the world went quieter. There was only the soft melody of a piano. 
Sophie opened her eyes to see concerned teal eyes. She always struggled to make eye contact, but in this case, she found herself drowning in those eyes. It took a moment to realize that it was Reina who'd been in front of her, and another to realize that she was wearing headphones.
Did Reina… put her headphones on me?
Reina didn't say anything, just looked at her, breathing visibly. Sophie realized that she should do the same. Each breath was easier to make, especially with the piano in the background.
"Th-thank you," she whispered.
"I'll always help you, okay? Next time, if you feel overwhelmed, just give me a signal, okay?"
All she could do was nod. Because it was that moment when she started to fall in love.
•~•~•~•~•~•
"I know I've joked about it before, but you have a crush on my sister, don't you." It wasn't a question.
Sophie turned to Biana in shock. Because she did, and was it that obvious? Also, Reina had gone to the washroom, and who knows when she'd be back. What if she accidentally found out?
"No," she lied. It was probably an awful lie, but it was a lie. "I don't."
Biana raised an eyebrow.
"I don't."
"I see."
•~•~•~•~•~•
It was a typical tradition to start walking to one of their houses, and then the other would go home. Biana had volleyball tryouts, so she wasn't able to walk with them. 
"Hey Sophie, you work in a flower shop, right?" Reina asked. "Would I be allowed to join you, if I ask for permission?"
Neither of the Vacker siblings had asked to go to her house, but she knew that it wasn't because they didn't care, but because they did.
"Sure." She was a lot more familiar with Reina, she didn't find herself opposed to the idea. "Let me call my parents."
Some phone calls later, and they were on their way to Havenfield.
"Biana's going to be jealous," Reina remarked.
Sophie laughed. "Definitely."
•~•~•~•~•~•
When Reina walked around the shop to peer at the flowers, Sophie noticed.
Is she going to give them to someone?
Her suspicions were confirmed when Reina went to the counter and ordered some yellow roses.
Friendship. That's not so bad.
It wasn't, until she offered them to Sophie. She smiled, because Reina was giving her flowers, but they were purely platonic. She resisted the urge to scream. She took the flowers, because it was still sweet that Reina would buy them for her.
"I'm glad I met you," she said. "You're really great to be around."
Sophie really hoped that she wasn't blushing.
•~•~•~•~•~•
"Here," Sophie murmured, and thrusted her arms out.
She could feel her cheeks warm, which was a horrible idea, considering what she was doing.
"I felt like giving them to you… like how you gave me the roses a few days ago. They're alstroemerias."
Yellow ones, to be exact. They were another flower that meant friendship. Reina already made it clear what her feelings were.
But Reina's reaction confused her. She looked happy, but there was something off. But when Reina smiled and thanked her, she attributed it to her imagination.
•~•~•~•~•~•
"What's the gathering here for?" Biana asked.
"Okay, so," Reina looked nervous. "I'd like to announce that I'm a boy."
"Are you changing names too?" Sophie asked.
"Yeah, you can call me Fitzroy… or well, Fitz probably works better for me."
"Okay Fitz," Biana said. 
"I'm glad you told us," Sophie said. "Are you gonna use he/him pronouns, or something else?"
"He/him."
•~•~•~•~•~•
When Sophie was old enough to start working at Havenfield Flowers, she gladly took the chance. To be honest, she didn't really know what she wanted to do with her life, she didn't have any big plans. She liked helping Grady and Edaline, and she wouldn't mind if she worked there for the rest of her life.
So because of that, she chose not to go to university. Biana continued with playing volleyball, while Fitz went into business, because he wasn't sure what he quite wanted to do either. Though he decided to also start working at Havenfield Flowers.
She was surprised when one day, Biana walked into the shop with Dex.
"Wait what?" Both Dex and Sophie asked, pointing to each other.
"You know each other?" Biana asked.
"Uh…"
"Dex, what a surprise!" Edaline greeted. "How's Juline doing?"
"We're cousins," Sophie explained. "Where'd you find Dex?"
"He goes to my uni."
It was all the explanation that they needed. The four of them took the chance and caught up with each other. Fitz looked a little lost, considering that he hadn't met Dex once.
It may have just been the four of them, but Sophie found herself feeling warm. She wouldn't ever want to give up the life that she had.
•~•~•~•~•~•
Translator note: Maan means mom in hindi (but anglicized)
Kotlc Taglist: @keefeinnit @impostertamsong @my-swan-song @subrosasteath
Wanna be added/removed from the taglist? Just let me know!
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wolfprincesszola · 3 years
Text
Discord
Sometimes I wonder why I try to write when I, in fact, have writer’s block. I will never understand, but I’m doing it anyways. Living Tombstone is such a good artist and I recently came back to this song, so have this horribly put together song fic. Enjoy! ————– Summary: Tubbo feels something is wrong and as his presidency continues, he realizes that L’manberg is collapsing on itself.
Trigger Warnings: None
Content Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers
Reference: Discord (Remix) - The Living Tombstone (ft. Eurobeat Brony)
Read it at ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133694 ————– I'm not a fan of puppeteers But I've a nagging fear Someone else is pulling at the strings
Tubbo never liked manipulation. That was why he chose peace over everything. However, he knew that being a peacemaker was only going to hurt him in the end, which is why he was always looking out for anyone trying to control him.
He was lying awake in his bed when he decided it would do some good to get up. He got out, checking the time. Midnight. Everyone would be sleeping.
Thoughts were spinning through his mind and he just couldn’t get them out. Presidency came with that, he guessed.
He took a walk around L’manberg and the Dream SMP land before stopping by the infamous bench. The one where Tubbo and Tommy usually sat, listening to music.
He sat down, trying to wrap his thoughts. Why was there a part of him that was worried that someone would manipulate him and cause the fall of L’manberg? Presidency held a lot of power and manipulation wasn’t easy to detect. Tubbo could easily-
“Tubbo, what are you doing here?”
Tubbo jumped and looked back to see Technoblade.
“Technoblade?” His fear increased as he backed away from him, “What are you doing here?”
Something terrible is going down Through the entire town Wreaking anarchy and all that it brings
“I couldn’t sleep.” Technoblade admitted. “I have a feeling that something terrible is going to happen.”
He sat on the bench, offering the seat to Tubbo.
“You aren’t....you aren’t going to kill me, are you?” Tubbo asked, pulling out his sword.
Technoblade just snorted, “Tubbo, it’s the middle of the night. I have standards. If I was to kill you, it’d have to be flashy and in front of everyone. Otherwise, how would I get clout? And fear?”
Tubbo just relaxed, deciding to sit next to Techno. “What’s this terrible thing that you think is going to happen?”
“I’m not sure.” Techno sighed, “Look, I’m an anarchist and all. I dislike the fact that you guys literally built a government in front of me, literally betraying MY ideals and-”
“I get it, Techno.” Tubbo rolled his eyes, “Get to the point.”
“I have to give you facts for trying to restore L’manberg, despite all that. I’ve decided to try and give up my violent ways..but I know Dream isn’t. Dream’s angry at you guys.”
I can't sit idly No I can't move at all I curse the name The one behind it all
Tubbo felt his stomach churn. That is not at all what he wanted to hear.
“He’s power-hungry, Tubbo. And he’s not going to stop at any costs.”
“We have to do something about it! Techno, you said that-”
“I’m sorry, Tubbo, I can’t help you there. This is your own battle. I have my own to deal with. Just....watch out for my brother. I know he can be a bit....irrational sometimes and I wouldn’t want Tommy to ruin your progress with L’manberg.”
“Thank you, Blade.”
Technoblade just nodded.
Discord, I'm howling at the moon And sleeping in the middle Of a summer afternoon Discord, whatever did we do To make you take our world away?
Tubbo’s blood ran cold as soon as he heard of the obsidian walls surrounding L’manberg. When he realized it was because of Tommy, he knew that it had already happened.
Dream was the most powerful man on the server and Tommy had just given him power over L’manberg. Because of Tommy, Dream could cause the fall of L’manberg and it would be all Tubbo’s fault. Because he couldn’t have chosen a better vice president.
As Tubbo and Dream talked about what to do with Tommy, Tubbo realized something. Tommy was the only thing Dream didn’t have power over. And Tommy had just given Dream an ability to have power over him.
The only thing he could do was try and keep his best friend from hurting the nation even more.
Discord, are we your prey alone? Or are we just a stepping stone For taking back the throne? Discord, we won't take it any more So take your tyranny away
Tubbo felt his blood run cold as Tommy kept saying that he had power over Dream.
Tommy had reassured Tubbo plenty of times, but Tubbo couldn’t help but try to warn Tommy anyways.
He knew that Dream was pissed as Tommy ordered Dream to tear down the walls and he knew that Tommy had messed up when Dream had started to build the walls even higher.
“Tommy, okay, listen, you’ve fucked up this time.” Dream glared at his best friend.
Tubbo stayed quiet, but he gave Tommy a look. He told him not to push Dream and yet he did. Now, the whole nation would pay for it.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, I don’t give a fuck about Spirit, okay? I don’t give a fuck about anything actually. I care about your disks. I care more about your disks than you do. That’s the only thing I care about in the server, actually. I don’t care about Spirit. Spirit was my horse. Died ages ago. I care about your disks because that’s what gives me power over you, and your friends, and everybody that you care about because you care about your disks more than anyone else here. So if you are not exiled from L’manberg, I will build these walls until they reach the sky. Don’t try and threaten me. I don’t care. I have lost-”
Tommy cut Dream off, trying to test what Dream had said and it had only made Dream even angrier. Tubbo couldn’t stop what was happening. All he could do was watch.
Dream gave Tubbo a deadline of three days to exile Tommy.
I'm fine with changing status quo But not in letting go Now the world is being torn apart A terrible catastrophe Played by a symphony What a terrifying work of art
When Dream left, everyone started to yell at each other. They were ripping each other at the throats.
Tommy saw Tubbo was being quiet and Tommy sighed, “Tubbo, he’s only doing this to get under your skin so you turn on me, alright?”
Tubbo finally decided to speak up because he was tired of trying to keep things nice and neat between him and his best friend. “No, actually, I think you made it very clearly what he’s doing. He’s doing this to get your disks because he wants them.”
“But the reason he’s doing this is because he knows that he-”
“You had one job. You couldn’t do one thing for me. You couldn’t do one. Just one thing and it was for your own good.”
Tubbo was hurt. He thought Tommy, for once, could help him with something. But no. It was always about his disks. Never about the good for L’manberg or for Tubbo. Tommy would see the world burn if it meant that he could have his disks back.
Tubbo sighed, “So you know what? If the roles were reversed, as you said, yeah, yeah you probably wouldn’t exile me. Because I would’ve actually listened to you and done what you said! Maybe have a couple ounces of respect! You’ve messed this up for no one but yourself.”
Tommy just looked away from Tubbo, not facing him.
Then, Tubbo didn’t know what hit him, but he let the anger take over him. “Selfish.”
Tommy stayed silent, but his head whipped towards him.
L’manberg would be torn apart because of their friendship. Even though Dream may have started it, Tubbo had to be the one to seal the deal if he wanted the nation to stay together.
L’manberg was crumbling on itself. A terrifying future without the best friends by each other’s sides.
I can't sit idly No, I can't move at all I curse the name The one behind it all
“I have come to the decision that it would be best for the nation...the most logical thing to do is for Tommy to be exiled.” Tubbo had told everyone.
He saw the shift in everyone’s face as they were in bewilderment. But Tubbo couldn’t let Dream control L’manberg. It was best for the nation if Tommy couldn’t hurt Dream from here.
Dream may have been controlling them, but Tubbo knew that the only way for the nation to survive, Tommy had to go. And there was nothing that anyone could do. Because Dream was the most powerful person on the server.
Discord, I'm howling at the moon And sleeping in the middle Of a summer afternoon Discord, whatever did we do To make you take our world away?
Tubbo missed Tommy. It had been so long since he saw his best friend. But he couldn’t go against Dream. Not at the moment. Not while L’manberg was still just recovering from the last war.
What had Tubbo done though? To deserve the backlash he did for exiling his best friend?
Was he a bad person for wanting to do what was right for the nation? Should he have cared about Tommy more?
Discord, are we your prey alone Or are we just a stepping stone For taking back the throne? Discord, we won't take it any more So take your tyranny away
Tubbo knew he couldn’t visit Tommy. Not when Dream was currently helping L’manberg when they needed it most.
So he stayed away for his nation.
Then, Ghostbur had come to him with a surprise.
“I know you’ve been sad. And you’re having a rough time with yourself right now and you have the idea that you’ve done something wrong. I just want you to know that it’s okay. Tommy will enjoy his vacation, it’s just new to him.”
“It’s just an adjustment.” Tubbo agreed.
“It’s new to him, this whole vacation and it’s one of those things where, you know what they say about a vacation, is where the best part is when you’re coming home and getting back to your old house. So the longer that he’s out, the more adjusted he gets to his new vacation home and the better it’ll be when he comes home.”
“You’re looking out for him.” Tubbo had stated.
Ghostbur had nodded. “I know you and him...you know, you’ve got each other, always. So I wanted to make sure that even when you’re distant, you two still know where each other are, so I got you this.”
He had given Tubbo a compass. One that Tubbo appreciated and soon would hold it close to him all the time. That way, Tubbo always knew where Tommy was.
Tubbo missed Tommy, and he knew that Dream was manipulating him. He just...couldn’t do anything about it. He was powerless if he wanted L’manberg to continue to survive.
Discord, I'm howling at the moon And sleeping in the middle Of a summer afternoon Discord, whatever did we do To make you take our world away?
It was apparent that the country was tearing itself from the inside the moment that the Butcher Army had went to hunt down Technoblade.
When Tubbo had arrived with the other three members, he noticed Technoblade had been ready for him. When Technoblade had surrendered, Tubbo knew that Quackity had gone too far, but it was too late.
When Quackity had whispered in his ear to just execute Technoblade, Tubbo couldn’t help but feel compelled. After all, Quackity was part of his cabinet. Why would he betray Tubbo?
So Tubbo did what Quackity said. If Tubbo had seen through Quackity’s manipulation, he gave no notice to it.
L’manberg was destined to fall.
Discord, are we your prey alone Or are we just a stepping stone For taking back the throne Discord, we won't take it any more So take your tyranny away
Tubbo wanted to see Tommy. That was all he wanted to do after what had happened. When he got there, all he saw was the wreckage of what once was Logstedshire....and a tall pillar.
“Surely not.” He muttered to himself as he looked around.
After looking around some more, he realized there was no other conclusion.
He sat in the wreckage, quiet.
It was clear now. Dream was power-hungry. He got rid of the only thing that was resisting him and it was Tubbo’s fault.
No one heard the pained scream come from Tubbo.
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lifeofkaze · 3 years
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An Art of Balance #9
Orion Amari x MC
 A/N: I swear @kc-needs-coffee I’m almost done borrowing KC, I just enjoy her so much xD
Warning: use of alcohol
 Word Count: ~ 2.600
______________________________________________________________ 
Chapter 9: A Knight in Shining Armour
Tired and beaten down, the Hufflepuff team trudged back towards the castle. It hadn’t taken the Ravenclaw seeker much longer to capture the Golden Snitch after KC’s Bludger had hit Lizzie. None of them was in the mood for much talking. Losing this match was a heavy blow to them.  
When they neared their Common Room, they could already make out the loud music and sound of chatter behind the narrow passage leading up to the entrance. Upon entering, they found themselves in the middle of a full-fledged post-match party taking place inside the round room. Their peers had set it up while they had been trying to wash off the pain of the loss. To the people of their House it didn’t matter if their team won or lost. They always found a reason to celebrate anyway.
Before long, Lizzie found herself chatting away with Penny and Tonks. The butterbeer in her hand spread a comfortable warmth from her stomach into the rest of her body, numbing the pain still throbbing inside her bruised shoulder.
Her foot was lightly tapping to the rhythm of the music that was blasting out of the enchanted speakers Face Paint Kid had mounted above the huge fireplace. They obscured the huge portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, who had retreated to a picture of her friend Rowena Ravenclaw near the Astronomy Tower. She couldn’t stand this ‘modern nonsense people called music nowadays’.
Lizzie had just downed the rest of her drink, when Penny nudged her and nodded inconspicuously towards one of the ledges that were protruding from the walls of the Common Room.
Skye was seated there all on her own, as had been her habit for the last weeks. She was nursing an empty mug in her hands and seemed to be brooding on something, deeply lost in thought.
“Someone should go talk to her,” Penny proposed softly. Lizzie contemplated passing on the task, but eventually her conscience got the better of her. She lifted her glass towards Penny and Tonks.
“I was going to get a refill anyway.”
She left her friends standing and made her way through the thick crowd towards the refreshment table, grabbing two fresh butterbeers before heading over to where Skye was sitting. She noticed people were giving the gloomy looking girl a wide berth and braced herself for being snapped at. But when Lizzie sat down next to her, she just accepted the drink Lizzie offered with a thankful smile.
The two of them were as used to fighting with each other as they were to making up again. There was no needs for many words or apologies. Lizzie held her mug out to Skye in a silent offer of reconciliation and Skye simply clanked hers against it before both took a deep swallow of the sweet liquid inside.
“Seems like Orion was right after all.”
Lizzie wasn’t looking at Skye as she spoke, rather staring at the bubbles rising up from the bottom of her glass. She was slowly swivelling it, watching the light from the fireplace illuminate the golden drink.
“This stupid quarrel likely cost us the match today. We can’t win if we don’t work together. It made getting our hands on the Cup just that more difficult.”
Skye chuckled wryly. “I’m always in for a challenge. How about you?”
Lizzie grinned back at her. “You know me.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a while before Skye spoke up again. “Just wish I could have shown Rath the ropes. We’ve lost more times to Ravenclaw than I care to admit.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Lizzie sighed. “At least, KC and I can now talk to each other again like the civilised human beings we are.”  
Skye snorted. “Your choice of friends has always been questionable.” She was acting up this time, Lizzie could hear the teasing in her voice.
“That’s why I’m friends with you, I guess,” she shot back.
Both of them started giggling, all the tension that had built between them over the last weeks suddenly dissolving into fits of laughter. They were drawing wondrous glances from their peers.        
Calming down, Skye’s face suddenly grew serious again. “Sorry for what happened today. Shouldn’t have said all those things to Orion. Or you. Not a good move from me.”
“You should tell him that, not me.” Lizzie gave her a sideways glance. “I was a bit harsh to you as well. Sorry about that.”
Skye raised her mug. “Forgiven and forgotten. Glad we could solve this mess.”
Lizzie leaned closer to her. “Speaking of solving the mess…” She motioned to where Penny was standing with Tonks, watching them through the crowd. “You should go talk to her. You can’t hide from Penny forever; I’m sure you will find a way to work things out.”
Skye had suddenly gone pale, a pained expression showing on her face. “I don’t know, Jameson, you sure about this?”
Lizzie just shoved her off the ledge for an answer. Shooting another uncertain glance over her shoulder, Skye made her way towards Penny. With a relieved sigh, Lizzie leaned back against the cold stone wall, propping one foot up on the ledge before taking another sip. Finally things were starting to get normal again.
Her sitting alone didn’t go unnoticed, however. Within minutes she could spot Everett breaking from the crowd and heading towards her, fresh mugs of butterbeer in hand. Lizzie groaned inwardly. She wasn’t particularly keen on getting into a conversation with him. She didn’t mind her new teammate during practise, but Lizzie had started feeling uncomfortable with the way he had been looking at her recently.
Gulping down the remains of her drink, Lizzie tried to get up as fast as she could. But before she had a chance to escape into the mass of students, Everett had reached her and slid down onto the ledge next to her. He sat a little bit too close for Lizzie’s liking.
“What are you doing, sitting around as lonely? Fancy a drink?” He held the mug up for her to take.
Lizzie couldn’t think of a valid reason to refuse and gave in to her lot. “Sure, why not. Thanks.”
She awkwardly accepted the butterbeer, not quite knowing how to start a conversation with him. Her not being overly keen on it didn’t help either.
“You played well today,” she tried treading on safe ground. Nothing wrong with a little Quidditch talk.
“Not as good as you, though. You were fantastic!”
“Hmm,” Lizzie hummed in response. That was a flat out lie. Today had been one of the worst matches she had ever played. She had performed just as poorly as Skye and Orion had done, perhaps even worse.
Everett didn’t seem to sense her disagreement, however. “You were almost as good back when you played Beater. Crazy good aim. I could use a bit of improvement in that area.” He smiled mischievously at her. The uncomfortable feeling in Lizzie’s stomach increased.
“Maybe you could show me how, some time? So I can better protect you.”
Of course Lizzie knew he was referring to Quidditch, but somehow the way he was stressing ‘protect’, combined with her general discomfort around him, rubbed her the wrong way.
She bristled at him. “I don’t need any protection, let alone yours, thank you very much. I can perfectly handle myself,” she snapped indignantly.
Laughing, he raised his hands in defence. “Relax, kitty cat, no need to get all angry. Doesn’t suit your pretty face.”
“You want to be a better Beater? Here’s my tip for you: more practising, less flirting.” She set her drink down with a clank and got up. She had enough of his attitude for the evening.
But before she could make off, Everett had grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him again. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, her face anything but friendly.
Feeling the need to change tune with her, Everett ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, don’t run away just yet,” he smiled apologetically.
Lizzie was still on edge, but her posture gradually softened again. She noticed he had pulled her down even closer to him than she had been before.
With a wink, Everett reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a silver flask. The light of the fire place was reflected in it as he was brandishing it in front of her face. “What do you say? Let’s have a drink on peace?”
Her eyes followed the blinking flask as he poured a shot into his mug. Lizzie wasn’t one to object to a little extra punch when it came to her drinks but she really wasn’t interested in talking to Everett anymore, let alone drinking with him.
She shook her head. “No, I’ll pass. I’ve had plenty already. I don’t want to end up doing anything stupid,” she added lightly.
Everett’s smile grew wicked. “Like this for example?”
He quickly leaned forward, putting his hand against the stone wall next to her face, effectively blocking her means of escape. To her horror, he started leaning in to kiss her. It was all she could do to duck under his arm supporting his weight to get away. Coming so close to him, a familiar scent reached her nose, fresh and spicy at the same time. It made her hesitate for a split second.
She knew the scent, but it thoroughly confused her to smell it on him of all people. It reminded her of the component of the Amortentia she had had problems placing.
Using her hesitation to his advantage, Everett got up as well, grabbing her arm before she could dart away. Anger flashing in her eyes, Lizzie tried to yank herself free.
“Is there a problem?”
Orion had suddenly appeared next to them. He looked calm and collected as ever, but his posture was tense, the tone in his voice firm. Lizzie sent a quick prayer to the heavens for sending him along just now.
Everett didn’t seem as happy. “Nothing to see here, Amari,” he snarled, but his territorial demeanour didn’t so much as make Orion flinch.
“That is fortunate, because I am aware that McNully’s Kneazle is up in our dormitory, chewing away on your Transfiguration essay. I believe, it is due on Monday?”
The aggressiveness visibly drained out of Everett as he turned pale. “It took me three weeks to finish that assignment! I’m going to make a hat out of this fleabag!” He raced towards the round door at the far end of the Common Room and vanished behind it.
Lizzie’s brown furrowed in concern. “He’s not going to do anything to Kneil, is he?”
“Don’t worry, Kneil is somewhere in the castle, probably hunting his dinner,” Orion smirked in response. “To be honest, McNully saw Everett hitting on you and sent me to your rescue.”
“How gallant,” Lizzie giggled.
Orion wasn’t even trying to hide his grin. Instead, he nodded towards her arm. “How is your shoulder feeling?”
Lizzie shrugged it off with a laugh. “Better than Everett’s ego, I image.”
Her eyes followed the path he had taken through the crowd. “I wonder what’s been going on lately; Everyone seems to be out of their minds,” she mused.
Including her, apparently. She could still smell the lovely scent lingering in the air, just as strongly as it had been before. She fought the urge to inhale deeply.
Orion laughed lowly. “That’s how it goes. I remember my fifth year vividly. Between O.W.L.s and people getting interested in dating each other, it was… “ A mysterious smile played about his lips for a moment, amusement sparking in his eyes. “Let’s say it was a singular experience.”
Lizzie remembered what Rowan had told her about Orion having a history when it came to dating. She felt self-conscious invading his privacy like that, but her curiosity and the fair share of butterbeer she’d drunk by now got the better of her.
“So, did you get to do some?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.
Orion took a sip from his drink. “Did I get to do what?”
Lizzie felt herself blush, glad the light emanating from the roaring fire hid the changing colour of her face. “Dating, I mean. Did you get to go on some?”
One corner of Orion’s mouth quirked up, the mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes intensifying. His lopsided smirk gave him a totally different presence than what Lizzie was used to seeing on him. Despite herself, she found herself staring at his oddly compelling smile, quickly shaking out of it as soon as she realised.
“A bit here and there.”
He knew his ominous answer only intensified Lizzie’s curiosity. So before she could ask, he added “Nothing serious, mind you. No real commitment from both sides.”
Not satisfied at all by this vague answer, Lizzie blinked at him, now even more curious than before. It felt completely out of place discussing this topic with her Quidditch captain, but she just couldn’t resist.
“You never mentioned seeing anyone. Why did you never tell us about any of them, or bring them to one of our matches?”
He slightly shook his head, his face changing to a more thoughtful expression. “Nothing worthwhile ever came of it. And I don’t know whether I would’ve been able to balance both things at the same time. Being the team captain and just me.”
Somehow, Lizzie was not entirely sure they were still talking about the same thing they had in the beginning of their conversation. She had noticed the tinge of frustration creeping into Orion’s voice, however.
Before she could reply though, a hand snaked around her waist and Rowan appeared at her side. Lizzie let out a small gasp of pain as she rested her head on Lizzie’s injured shoulder, a girlish giggle escaping her mouth.
Although Rowan didn’t exactly dismiss alcoholic drinks as a whole, Lizzie knew her to be rather restrained when it came to drinking at parties, especially since she had been appointed prefect. It made seeing Rowan as drunk as she obviously was even stranger.
“Lizzie, there you are! I have been looking for you all over the place,” she shouted into Lizzie’s ear a lot louder than she had to. Lizzie tilted her head away from her to protect her eardrums from bursting.
“Skye has been looking for you, you should go find her,” Rowan explained, her voice slurry. She tried to talk matter-of-factly but the slight swaying as she stopped leaning on Lizzie for support vastly undermined her effort to appear sober.
Scanning the crowd, Lizzie could see Skye joking around with Tonks and Penny. Apparently, they had been able to calm the waves. It did not appear to her as if Skye was searching for anyone though, let alone her.
She started telling Rowan, but was silenced by the pointed look her friend gave her. Her eyes flickered to Orion for a moment, who was watching them patiently. The penny finally dropped on her.
“I’d better go and see what she wants then.” She winked at Orion, her hand resting on his arm for a moment. ”Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.”
She left the two of them standing, while she made her way towards her friends, the spicy scent that had shaken her earlier still hanging in the air.
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carewyncromwell · 3 years
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I don't know if you want to talk about this (and feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer), but I wanted to ask which side of the Ethren mess you're on? I know in the beginning you were on his side, but I've seen so much hate and so many accusations and I don't know what to believe anymore, and I trust your judgement
I have to be honest -- when I first saw that a blog had been created with the specific purpose of “calling out” someone in the HPHM fandom...I blocked it.
I come to this fandom largely to escape from the real world. It’s been one of the few remaining sanctuaries I’ve had during this quarantine and from my own mental health problems. I’ve made a lot of friends in this community, and I feel very strongly about putting out more positive content than negative, as well as trying to digest more positive than negative. I don’t like the thought of a stranger posting stuff online about someone else who -- let’s be honest -- nobody truly knows unless they actually physically know them IRL. Unless one wants to go down an entire rabbit hole of getting to know a person uncomfortably well, there’s not much anyone can do to prove what’s true. And I know it sounds really immature and selfish of me, but...I was never that interested in learning much about this fandom’s members’ personal lives, excluding what the friends I’ve made have been willing to confide in me on a case by case basis. I have plenty of my own drama happening over here on my side, and I just want to have fun roleplaying with people’s characters and making content for both mine and theirs. It’s been one of the few things that helped me fight back my untreated and severe chronic depression after being furloughed from my job thanks to the COVID-19 shutdown. My job had been my escape, and without it, I was drowning -- one of my only life preservers was making content for this blog. So for my own mental health, I shut out the negativity, because I wasn’t emotionally or mentally able to deal with it. And admittedly, it felt to me as though this sort of thing really shouldn’t be handled online when -- again -- this sort of thing seems like it’d be better handled in the real world and the legal system, rather than in the court of mostly anonymous public opinion. And it also feels kind of nasty to reblog content from people online who simply liked the character Ethren Whitecross and made fan content for him, just to harangue them for it. It’s like attacking all Harry Potter fans for being transphobic just because they enjoyed something created by a trans-exclusionary radical feminist -- particularly when in the case of Ethren, the vast majority of us don’t know Ren personally. One could’ve related to Ethren’s story without knowing anything about his creator, and people did, often not because of any kind of malevolent reasons.
After receiving this message, though, I unblocked the blog in question and read some more of their posts. When I’d first blocked it, the only post of theirs I saw in the HPHM tag came across as rather hostile, and combined with Ren’s blog saying that an ex was stalking him, I don’t think it’s unsurprising that some people were initially warded off by it. But reading some of the other stuff written on that blog since...I must acknowledge there’s a lot of troubling stuff there. It made me very upset, and made me kind of regret that I’d initially jumped into making a stance without hearing both sides. But at the same time, considering that someone from outside the fandom had arrived specifically to target someone in the fandom, supposedly on behalf of someone else who also had no ties to the fandom, it looked a lot like cyberbullying to me at the time. Now it’s very clear there’s more to the story, and for that initial leap to judgment, I am sorry. I wasn’t in a place where I understood fully what the discussion was about before I took a side, and that’s something I should know better than to do.
But I think this comes down to, in the end, my answer to your question, regarding sides.
I don’t want to take a side -- because I didn’t come to the HPHM fandom to fight people. I came here to be happy.
I know someone could read this as cowardly and ignorant, but please, understand that I thought long and hard about this. This place has been a safe space for me, and I understand it has been for others as well -- a place where we can go to enjoy art and fanfiction for something we enjoy and roleplay as new, interesting characters with other people who have similar interests and creative leanings. I thoroughly understand that it can’t truly be a safe space if we allow people who would threaten other people’s safety into it, and I also thoroughly understand that people can include problematic aspects of themselves into their characters along with good things (just look at how J.K.’s apparent subliminal views on the LGBT+ community influenced how she’s handled Dumbledore). Both things are definitely things to be aware of, and it’ll be an ongoing struggle to try to propagate a truly welcoming and positive, and yet safe and supportive community. There will always be shadows and dark spots that aren’t easy to see, just like with all fandoms, and it’s good to now and again take the time to examine them.
But to quote a line from one of my favorite songs, “it’s hard to light a candle, easy to curse the dark instead.”  I cannot log onto my computer and into this fandom every day and think about openly attacking someone else, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. This feels like something that the victim should handle herself in the real world, and I truly hope that she finds peace in whatever path she takes. But that is her story to tell, to write, and to play out -- it’s not mine. Mine is a story I have written and am still writing, where I’ve tried to find a way to be happy and be a good person despite everything in my life that has made that so difficult. And so I truly feel the only way I can approach this situation is to not let the things that hurt and drain me have power over my life, and put my energy toward things that build me up instead. I try not to visit tags or places online that could be triggering, and simply enjoy the things I do like. I’ve stopped spending money on things Harry Potter-related because of Jo’s stance on transgender rights, but still engage in the HP fandom and celebrate what is good in the original material and especially what its fandom has made out of it. In this case, I will simply do the same, particularly since from the look of things, Ren’s blog is no longer around for anyone to interact with anyway, positively or not. I’ll engage with blogs whose work I can still enjoy and give me some light when I most need it, and try my best to keep creating more light of my own for others. I will light candles, and little by little, I’d like to think the room will be bright enough that the dark will be significantly smaller and less scary than it was.
I understand if any of you disagree with or are angry about anything I’ve said. I know “playing both sides” is not a great thing to do, and I truly don’t mean to. But I’m afraid I do have to take my own side here, for my own mental and emotional well-being. I responded to this Ask because I felt like saying nothing would’ve truly been the cowardly thing to do, by pretending the issue isn’t there at all. I’m not pretending it isn’t there -- but I do think it’s a battle I’m ill-equipped to engage in, not because of my personal morals, but because I don’t feel emotionally able to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner in this court of public opinion.
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sweetjekyll · 3 years
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Writerly contemplation tag!
tagged by the lovely @j-pping; thank you for the tag!
this might end up being long so I’ll add a read more cut ☺️
2020
what was the most challenging part of writing this year?
I guess the most challenging part of writing this year was tuning out the real world. I’ve always used reading and writing as a form of coping and escapism from all the things that were troubling me. Unfortunately there were times when simply reading and writing weren’t helping me and I took so many breaks, postponed so many WIPs I was excited about... I ended up beating myself down for not being able to keep up with an expectation I had for myself and my writing. Considering 2020 was hell for everyone, I came to terms with myself that it cannot be always my fault, I can’t blame myself for not being able to do things I set my mind to do, sometimes there are obstacles that take time for you to cross.
I’m just going to quickly mention stressful anons and hopefully get a point across for all fan fictions writers. WE ARE NOT ROBOTS. WE ARE HUMAN. All of us write for many personal reasons, mine are that I just love writing things which I wish to read! Simple as that. What I wish for some rude people to understand is that the least you could do for us creators is be thankful and be kind to us, give feedback and constructive criticism, share our work. I don’t understand why you are scared of the reblog button. When I go through my notes and take a look at some blogs, they are empty. No one is paying us to contribute creatively to the fandom, you are enjoying our content for free while we put hard work and our free time into it, so why should we “hurry up”, “update faster” and “write more/this/that”? Please, remember that we are people too, and the toxicity some people spread on anonymous asks is just incredibly baffling and hurtful to me. If you, as a reader, believe that my request is nonsense and my words are too harsh, then perhaps you should reconsider how you’re viewing content creators before disagreeing without a valid reason.
what was the most enjoyable/rewarding part of writing this year?
The happiness that came from writing something which I enjoyed reading as well! I have been a writer for years on another platform until I had to take a long hiatus because of writer’s block and depression. For how cheesy this may sound, the most enjoyable and rewarding part of writing is in fact writing something that makes me happy even if I’m torturing my characters and traumatizing them. There is truly no point for me to write things that I don’t feel I am enjoying. As I have said other times before on the blog, I would much rather post something that makes me happy, than post something just to get notes from silent readers.
what piece has left the most impact on you and why?
Given the fact that I have not written a lot because of my constant mental health breaks (yes 2020 had me on rollercoaster mental breakdowns more often than usual), I have to say that Damaged is what really kept me entertained with myself and perhaps sane. It has been way too long since I’ve taken on something so creative as building an entire universe from just a dream, but it’s what reminded me why I love writing so much, it reignited my passion. With this story I really wanted to challenge myself to write something unique, something I’ve never done before with any other work... And I admit it’s quite difficult; the easiest part was taking inspiration from EXO’s lore, but the hardest was incorporating it in a universe and storyline completely different to the original concept. It’s something I’m set on finishing as a complete multi-chapter story no matter how long it takes.
what have you learned about yourself through the process of writing in the past year?
To be completely honest, I learned that I can push myself out of my comfort zone when writing, because every piece is a fictional world of its own, every character can be more than a copy and paste personality. What do I truly learn about myself if I don’t explore things I have not thought about before? I learned that I should not be afraid to write of things that I don’t know or fully understand, specifically about things that I didn’t post but tried for just for fun. It is a good way of finding out whether a certain subjects interests me or doesn’t. I love doing lots of research and gather information for the stories I’m writing, you get to learn about stuff you usually would never think about.
how has your writing changed in the past year? how have you grown?
Well, I don’t really have anything to compare my writing to except my older fan fictions for movies and tv shows. I guess I have changed quite a lot since 2018; my writing style has become more fluid, at least I think it has. I’m also able to write longer chapters without feeling as if I am dragging it out for the sake of the word count, yet now I have to literally stop myself from just writing too much! It pleases me, to be honest. I remember struggling to sometimes put ideas into words and balance narrative, dialogue and descriptions.
2021
ignoring your wips for a second, if you had all the time and energy in the world to write your magnum opus piece, what would it be about? why is that the dream story you’d write, all other things controlled for?
This can go back to Damaged, honestly! It’s something that I haven’t finished writing and it will be a long story. It’s the fan fiction which has gotten me out of a 2-year-long writer’s block with such strength, I feel truly attached to it. As I mentioned in one of my first answers for 2020, this is the WIP I want to focus on the most and be proud of it.
how do you want to grow in your writing this year?
I mentioned this is my first 2021 post after I took a short break, but one of my resolutions for this year is to work on self acceptance when it comes to my projects. (I’ll copy and paste what I wrote there so I don’t repeat myself with other words) One of my resolutions for 2021 is to write more, to not be afraid of beginning something and even if I end up setting the story aside, at least I will have gotten it out on (digital) paper. I punish myself way too much when I’m not able to finish something, and that is truly one of the worst things a content creators can go through, in my opinion. I have many drafted works that may or may never be published and I wish to appreciate them more instead of dwelling on the fact of what they could have been.
what’s one thing you’d wish to see in the fan-writing community this year?
I wish for more love and recognition of the amazing and talented writers that share their content with everyone on tumblr. We are a community, or at least we are supposed to be. I would absolutely love to see more readers actively interacting with writers, share ideas, share art inspired by what you read! As readers, you can contribute as well by sharing moodboards, song recommendations and/or playlists! You are more than welcome to join us in the community as writers too! 
As for myself, I have mentioned this towards last year but I still want to compile a list of all the writers I am currently following and read their works. I haven’t been in a good mindset to do that for a long time and I wish to get to know them. I’m a pretty shy person who struggles to start up a conversation, so I hope I get to make some friends on tumblr this year!
name one new thing you want to try doing in your writing this year.
I would like to make a list of aus and experiment with them for either one shots or some short series! I have so many creative ideas and thoughts but I always forget to take a note or maybe I’m doing something else and I end up getting caught up in a stream of consciousness, until I lose the initial spark. Also mentioned plenty of times, I would love to write for other groups, like nct, but for now I’ll focus on exo.
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anyway, that was it for my writerly contemplation tag!
I’m tagging a few fellow writers, but feel free to ignore for any reason! sorry if I forgot someone but feel free to do this even if I didn’t tag you!! @pororodks @velvetsehun @yeoldontknow @yeagerluvr @soos-goddess @shaalk @mooneylooney1 @dewbebe
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filleguernesiaise · 4 years
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My lockdown feels
Ever since lockdown begun at the end of March I’ve felt confident that we will get though this as our government have handled the situation expertly and with confidence, there is nothing better than feeling like you are in the best hands and when the whole community does what they are told you know we will be ok. The media briefings were very informative and the experts always gave clear and concise information. I’ve always felt our community spirit would show its true self if it had to and although I never would have foreseen or indeed have wanted to predict a pandemic, these times have shown that we do indeed live on an amazing island full of incredible people.
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I didn’t work for 6 weeks so I had plenty of time to do all those odd jobs around home that of course I’ve been putting off time and time again, from photo editing to spring cleaning to craft making and even finally starting to research our family tree. However I also felt incredibly guilty as my work place was still open, we had to adhere to government guidelines so we were only allowed 2 people on site at any one time. Naturally the more experienced machine operators with the machines we could run were called in, I know I wasn’t one of them but I wished I could help. 6 weeks after lockdown begun the guidelines were relaxed a little so we were allowed 5 people on site, honestly I still wouldn’t have been first on the list to be called in but I wanted to help and was prepared to learn a new machine so I got the call which I was very grateful for.
It’s weird but I was excited about going back to work, something I didn’t think I would be as I have been a little unhappy there in the last year or so. I’m not sure if it had more to do with the fact I was getting a bit bored at home, I am not sure bored is the right word as there was plenty I could do but I just couldn’t motivate myself and lazed around way too much. Maybe the whole situation was getting to me and I wasn’t allowing myself to really contemplate it, there were times i tried to reflect on everything that was going on but I would just block those feelings as they just seemed too unrealistic.
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Now I am back at work, although on a different shift pattern to normal but then again what is normal at the moment, and I find myself thinking that I could have done so much more over those 6 weeks. I could have learnt a new language, learnt more on photo editing, learnt more on creative writing I mean the list goes on. I did listen to lots of book summaries on leadership and management on an app that work set up for us but well it was more fun to watch animal videos on Facebook or Tiktok videos.
I went on a few walks during the first month of lockdown, we were allowed out for a maximum of 2 hours exercise per day and preferably direct from your home so not driving to a location. Do you know even writing that feels so unreal, allowed out?! I mean what the heck! Anyway it was really nice seeing all the rainbow art and the Guernsey bunting people had put out, it really proved that the whole Guernsey community were really all in this together.
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Unfortunately and very sadly we had to have our cat put down early on in lockdown, she started having bad seizures and along with slightly dodgy kidneys and age not being on her side (she was 20!) the vets really couldn’t do anything for her. It was heartbreaking seeing her have the seizures and deteriorate so quickly in such a short space of time, we didn’t want her to suffer any longer but it is always such an awful decision. I read something somewhere that said they are compassionate cuddle buddies and empathetic, emotional companions, at times during lockdown that’s exactly what I really needed so it was really hard not having that.
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With all my family shielding I went and did the grocery shopping, we also got deliveries but there was always something you just couldn’t get delivered. Most of the time I found the experience ok, the shops were great with all the safety procedures put in place correctly but of course you always get people who push the limits. I only found one shopping experience pretty horrendous and it was down to people not wanting to observe the 2 metre social distancing rule and generally pushing in, I didn’t think I really suffered with anxiety until then but luckily I managed to keep myself calm, stepped back and took my time.  
That’s the thing I’ve noticed over lockdown especially on social media that people are saying some really silly stuff, generally I think a lot of people even though they probably didn’t realise it and wouldn’t admit it but they were scared. I read so much stuff that irritated me but I just put it down to them maybe feeling lonely and wanting to vent without thinking and realising exactly what they were saying and the consequences of it, I’m sure now things have calmed down a bit that some will regret what they said.
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I think that these strange times have made me take a step back and think what do I really want from my life, do I still want to be in the job that I’m in which is ok but not really want I want to be doing long term. To be fair the company have been amazing during this situation and I feel incredibly lucky to work for them and to have been supported so well by them. I also want to travel the world however I tend to spend a lot of money on one or two big holidays a year so maybe I should spend less on each holiday and go on more smaller ones, I guess these times really have been like a huge pause for some people and I am sure many have made some life changing decisions.
So after however many days, feels like so much longer, lockdown is over on the beautiful island of Guernsey where I live, no queuing to get in shops, no social distancing required and every shop, bar and restaurant is open. Unfortunately a few places have decided not to reopen which is really sad, now is the time we really must support our local businesses.  We still have controls on our border so only essential travel in and out of the island allowed with strict self isolating rules in place, I think it will be a while before we open them fully as other places still do not have the virus under control.
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For now though it is great to be able to meet with family and friends, go back to our favourite cafes and restaurants and enjoy great food and company, but most of all it is great to be able to hug people again! 
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Kings Over Aces - Chapter 4
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Word Count: 5,778 (Total Word Count: 15,109) Read on AO3
Story Summary:
The Voltron Coalition has an alliance in the works with the resource-rich planet of Yuipra, and it’s the paladins’ job to keep on the king’s good side while the deal is made. That shouldn’t shouldn’t be too great a challenge; after all, they’ve courted plenty of planets before for the sake of alliances.
Unfortunately, things are made much more complicated when the king takes a special interest in Keith.
Chapter content warnings for non-consensual touching, threats of rape. Fic content warning for attempted rape.
Keith kept up his smile as best he could as Olren reached the bottom stair. It wasn’t easy; the closer Olren got, the more aware Keith felt of every sensation in his body - the sweat against the coarse fabric of his outfit; the nervous heartbeat that must have been so loud, and surely Olren could hear it and was going to misinterpret it; his posture, and where his feet were, and why did it feel like he was standing wrong, how did he normally stand, he couldn’t remember.
“You got this, Keith,” Pidge said. “We’re with you every step of the way.”
It wasn’t a huge reassurance, but it was just enough that Keith managed to swallow down some of the nerves by the time the king was standing before him.
“Paladin Keith,” Olren said, taking Keith’s hand in his. He lifted it to press a kiss to the back of the hand - a spot left vulnerable since Keith didn’t have his usual gloves on - before continuing, “You’re looking positively lovely this evening.”
“Um, thanks,” Keith mumbled. In his ear, Lance’s voice told him, “Don’t wipe your hand.”
“He wasn’t trying to wipe his hand,” Hunk’s voice said.
“It’s Keith, he’s one hundred percent the type of person who wipes off kisses.” Surely the point was moot anyway, Keith thought, as his hand was still trapped in Olren’s grasp, but he couldn’t say anything to the others without raising some brows.
“Return the compliment, Keith,” Allura’s voice piped up.
“You look lovely too,” Keith said.
“Well, use a different word, don’t just repeat his.”
Keith fought back an annoyed wince before amending, “I mean, you look, um… radiant.”
Lance barked out a laugh, but Keith was saved from having to figure out what was so funny about his word choice by the fact that Olren seemed to take the remark in stride, smiling brightly before adjusting his grip on Keith’s hand so that their arms were at their sides, fingers intertwined. Lance had been right - Keith did want to wipe his hand off. There was a cold stickiness left on the skin where Olren had kissed it, although he didn’t know whether the lips had actually left that much residue, or if it was just his imagination.
“Come along,” Olren said, giving Keith’s hand a little tug as he turned toward the hall leading away from the foyer. “I’ve had the staff cook up some personal favorite dishes of mine. I’m sure you’ll love them. I only wanted the very best for a paladin of Voltron.”
“Right,” Keith said. Shiro was making some sort of comment in his ear as Olren dragged him along, saying it was a good thing they’d practiced the hand-holding the day before. Really, Keith thought, the practice hadn’t done much. Holding hands with Olren was much weirder; at least he actually knew Coran.
But Olren seemed keen on it, so Keith tried to imagine that the hand in his was a friend’s, tried to picture it as Shiro’s or Pidge’s or Hunk’s, and it seemed he was successful enough at imagining that it managed to get him through the walk to the private dining room.
Again, the door was flanked by guards who opened the doors for them, and there were more stationed inside; Keith wondered idly if the dining room was guarded like that all the time, or if this was just for him. Either way, the omnipresent guards were a little unnerving, and Keith was glad that the golden visors on their helmets made it a bit easier to pretend they weren’t watching him the whole time.
A small circular table, big enough only for two, sat in the middle of the room, and one of the guards pulled Keith’s chair out for him as he and Olren approached. Keith took his seat, peering around the room. A chandelier to match the ones in the banquet hall hung over the table, and its light danced off the decorations on the walls, which mostly consisted of elaborate tapestries. The table itself was just as opulent despite its small size, its legs carved into intricate patterns and its surface polished to a sheen. Olren appeared to have brought out the Yuipran equivalent of fine china as well, since the crystal-like, jewel-edged tableware was much fancier than the ones that had been set out for the dinner they’d attended before.
Olren began launching into descriptions of the foods as Keith helped himself to small servings of each. Right now, his nerves being what they were, he couldn’t enjoy the flavor of any of them - they all might as well have been tasteless to him, like he was sitting here eating paper or cotton balls - but sampling them gave him an excuse to not talk for now, so he pressed on.
“Ohohoh, man, that looks good,” Hunk said as Keith started cutting into the main dish. “Does it taste as good as it looks?”
“This is very tasty, your majesty,” Keith said, interrupting Olren’s chatter about how well the beverage he’d picked complemented the vegetable dish. He couldn’t actually tell right now, but at least the food did smell good, so that hopefully translated to taste as well.
“Why, thank you,” Olren said, seeming unfazed by the interruption. “I’ll pass along the compliments to the kitchen staff.”
“Ask him if he can give you the recipe,” said Hunk.
Keith did so, and Olren laughed lightly. “Tell you what, I’ll go ahead and throw the recipe in as one of the perks of our upcoming alliance if this evening goes well.”
“Oh. Uh - ”
“So you enjoy cooking, Keith?”
Keith shrugged. “I mean, I cook, but more out of necessity than enjoyment. One of my teammates is more into cooking, though.”
“Careful not to mumble, Keith,” said Shiro. “Speak up.”
Keith cleared his throat before resuming in a louder voice. “Um, do you cook?”
“Don’t just repeat him,” Allura said.
“Oh, stars, no,” Olren said. “Haven’t the time to learn a chore of the sort. It isn’t a necessity for me, what with the chefs we keep in our employ. Some of the top cuisiniers in all of Yuipra can be found right in my palace’s kitchen, so no contribution I’d make to the meals would even be worth the time and effort. You could say I’m more a patron of the arts than an artist.”
“Ask him what his hobbies are,” Coran said. “You’ve got a good opening for that one.”
“So, uh, you don’t cook,” said Keith. “What do you do? In your spare time, I mean.”
“Ah, the list of what I don’t do would be shorter,” Olren replied. “I’ve trained in many athletic disciplines and I’ve always considered myself to be a lifelong scholar. The palace’s library contains quite the impressive collection, and it’s befitting of a king to be well-versed in as many fields as he is able, yes? So I am. In sciences, history, the arts. I travel extensively, of course, my rapport with my subjects and my allies is of great importance to me, and I have done quite well in that regard. My royal family line is long-beloved by the populace, and I strive to ensure the reverence is not misplaced.”
“This guy’s a real piece of work, isn’t he,” Pidge muttered.
“Now, now, Pidge,” said Coran. “Expounding on one’s positive qualities is hardly unusual behavior for a first date.”
“If you say so.”
“Still,” Olren continued, and Keith tried to block out the voices in his earpiece and return his attention to the one across the table. “I was perfectly serious when I said I was a patron of the arts. You will find no more ardent theater-goer in my domain than myself, and I really must show you my private art collection at some point. Or the palace gardens, it would be a lovely night for them.”
He leaned forward, bringing his eyes to level with Keith. “I am a great admirer of beauty, you see, and it is a passion of mine to find beauty in the world and make it my own. In all its many forms. Whether it be a painting on my wall or a flower in my garden. A jewel on my crown - “ He reached out suddenly, cold fingertips grazing Keith’s cheek as he tucked a lock of the latter’s hair behind his hair. “ - Or a companion at my side.”
“Christ, that’s a hell of a line,” said Lance. “You think he rehearsed that? I bet he rehearsed it.”
“Um,” said Keith. “That’s, uh - that’s - ”
“Say, erm, that you’re honored he sees you that way,” Allura said. “He was complimenting you.”
“Right,” Keith said. “I’m honored you, um, see me that way.”
“You should be,” Olren said. “That’s not something I’d say of just anyone.”
His stare was growing more intense by the second, and Keith could feel the sweat growing along his hairline. He coughed into his sleeve, using it as an excuse to lean away from him. “So,” he said loudly. “Um, Allura says Yuipra and Altea go way back, huh? What’s, uh - what’s - tell me about that.”
“Did we not go over segues and subject changes with him yesterday?” Shiro asked. “I thought we did.”
Keith repeated the ‘smile with your eyes’ mantra to himself to keep from scowling. Sure, that had been clumsy, but Olren didn’t seem to care. The king was already launching into a history lecture about Yuipra’s past alliances and the interplanetary relations forged by past kings and queens. It was all in one ear and out the other for Keith, but it was keeping Olren busy and had gotten him to cool it with that weird stare, so he was counting it as a win.
He managed to finish off the main course by the time Olren was winding down, having reached the most recent generation of rulers in his exhaustive recounting of the royal lineage. “Of course, the trade agreement with Thuabos is one that would doubtless be considered the most beneficial to our energy sector in all of Yuipran history. Still, King Arihan’s diplomacy and positive relations with their chancellor were instrumental in that deal, and I know that more than one advisor had been worried that it may falter after I took the throne.” He let out a long sigh, and brought a hand to his chest. “I’m sure your princess would more than understand - it’s not easy, losing a father and a king all at once. The burden placed upon my shoulders as ruler in these past decaphoebs is a heavy one.”
“Offer your condolences, Keith,” said Allura. “He’s pushing for sympathy.”
Well, obviously. Keith wasn’t the best at reading people, sure, but even he could pick up on melodrama. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Why would he bring that up in the middle of a first date?” said Pidge. “Is that normal?”
“Maybe he’s angling for, like, comfort cuddles or something,” said Hunk.
“Thank you,” Olren said. He dabbed lightly at his eyes with his fingertips before opening them again. “I apologize, if I get too personal too soon. But, to that end, I do believe that openness is a cornerstone of interpersonal relations. Our struggles, our strengths - they need not be kept secret.” He folded his hands on the table, tilting his chin toward Keith. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah,” Keith said. “Yeah, sure.”
Olren smiled. “I thought so. You’re a delightful confidante, Keith. A wonderful listener. That is something that you can consider a strength of yourself and Voltron - your willingness to let others place their burdens before you.”
“Uh-huh,” Keith said with a nod. “Yeah, we’re all - we’re very good listeners.”
“Are we including Lance in that assessment?” asked Pidge.
“What?” said Lance.
Shiro shushed him as Olren went on. “Of course, I do not want to give you an inaccurate impression of me and my capabilities. Yuipra is still a force to be reckoned with under my leadership. I see no reason why a soft heart and strong hand should be mutually exclusive. The same can be said of Voltron, can’t it? Its presence is a beacon of hope, but also a show of force. Of power.”
“That’s, um - yeah, I suppose so.”
Olren nodded. “Yuipra would fit well into your coalition. We do not possess the military strength of some of your allies, no, but we are powerful in other ways. We would not have lasted as long as we have otherwise. We’re resolute. I never yield, Keith, never waver. When there is something my kingdom needs, I go after it. I pull out all stops to get what I want, and I persevere no matter the resistance.” He paused to scoop a bite of food into his mouth, the last on his plate, and set his fork down. “Diligence is the precursor to endurance, Keith. Giving up is never an option.”
“I see,” Keith said slowly.
“Okay, come on,” Pidge said. “There’s no way this is normal first date conversation.”
“Well,” said Shiro, “A ‘date’ with a king and potential war ally is probably pretty different from a ‘normal’ first date.”
“Still,” said Hunk. “Just listening to him is exhausting.”
“Don’t pause so long, Keith,” said Allura. “Humor him, say you agree.”
“Right,” said Keith. “That - that makes sense. A good, uh, good way to look at things.”
“I had a feeling you’d agree,” Olren said.
“Uh-huh. Though, uh, you know, the coalition is more of - ”
He dropped his sentence and his fork at the same time, startling at the sudden sensation of a hand on his knee. Olren showed no change in his expression, still giving him that little sharp-eyed smile he’d held throughout the dinner, but his hands, no longer occupied with the food, were now out of sight, and even as their gazes met, Keith could feel the hand moving back and forth over his knee, as if Olren was petting it.
“Keith?” Hunk said. “Did our audio cut out?”
“The coalition is what?” Olren asked lightly.
“Um,” Keith said. He squirmed in his seat, moving against the back of the chair, but the hand followed, the thumb now rubbing little circles into his thigh. “It, uh, it’s more - it’s - you know, there’s um, it’s numbers, and, um - and resources for - for, uh - ”
“Keith, you oughtn’t fidget like that,” Allura’s voice chided in his ear. “What’s going on?”
“You okay, man?” Hunk asked.
Right. Of course, the others would have no way of knowing what was going on under the table, and he couldn’t very well explain it to them. He took a deep breath through his nose and tried to hold his leg still, gritting his teeth when Olren seemed to interpret this as an invitation to slide his hand even further up his thigh, his fingertips brushing against the fabric of the too-thin pants and feeling like insect legs crawling along his skin.
“Your coalition sounds like a perfect fit for Yuipra,” Olren said, replying as if Keith had given him a perfectly coherent answer. “And speaking of - ”
Fingers pinched the skin of his thigh, and without thinking Keith shot up out of his seat, gripping the edge of the table as firmly as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling into an abyss. Olren somehow appeared entirely unfazed by this, maintaining his little smile even now. “Is something wrong, Keith?”
“N-no,” Keith stuttered, even as the voices in his earpiece asked the same question. “No, I, uh - it’s getting cramped, in here. Just wanted to get up.”
“Ah. I see.”
“Er, perhaps suggest an alternate activity, Keith?” said Coran.
“You could, uh, show me that art collection or garden or something,” Keith said. That would be good. Something that involved standing and walking, something where the camera could catch it if Olren started getting handsy, and the others could tell him what to do about it.
“All right,” Olren said. “If you’d like. Are you sure you don’t want to wait for our dessert course? I’ve selected some sweets for the evening that are positively decadent.”
Keith shook his head. “No thanks, I’m - I’m full.”
“And eager, it seems,” Olren said with a smirk. “Very well, Keith. I’ll show you to the gardens; it’s a beautiful season for them, some lovely specimens blooming.” He rose from the table too, and as he did, the guards on standby opened the door to admit a group of servants who quickly swept in to clear the table. “Come,” he said, holding out the crook of his arm.
“Hold him by the arm, just above the elbow,” Shiro said. “Wrap the hand around, but keep the grip light.”
Keith obliged, and Olren led the way out of the dining room. Keith still would have preferred to not be holding onto Olren at all, but this beat holding his hand, so it wasn’t so bad to endure as they strode through the palace’s corridors and out into the courtyard.
“It’s not too chilly out for you, is it?” Olren asked.
“Huh?” Keith said. “Uh, no?”
“You can feel free to come closer, if you get cold.”
Someone, probably Lance, wolf-whistled into his earpiece, and Keith made a mental note to kick him in the shin when he got back to the Castle. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“If you’re sure.” They had reached a tall gate at the other end of the courtyard, one that was once again flanked by two of those ubiquitous guards who opened the gate and bowed them through. Keith made to drop his hand from the king’s arm, but just as he was about to, Olren brought his other hand up, lightly draping it over Keith’s as they walked. Looked like he was stuck for now.
The garden was nice, Keith supposed. The plants on display were lush and colorful, and they’d arrived during sunset, which left the sky on this planet - or at least in this area of it - a bold shade of violet that was warmed by the orange glow of the lamps placed at intervals throughout the stone walkways.
The structure reminded him a bit of the botanical gardens that his class had visited on a field trip back in middle school, with its stone pathways and the tidy arrangement of the plants, so perhaps he could pretend that this was just a school field trip rather than a date, and perhaps that would help with the mild nausea that had been plaguing him since entering the palace.
Of course, on that field trip, two of his classmates had tried to hold his head under the water in a fountain and gotten all three of them sent back to the bus for half the day, but there didn’t seem to be any fountains in this garden, so he was probably safe from that at least.
Olren had started talking without Keith realizing, so he hastened to try to focus. Fortunately Olren didn’t seem to realize that Keith had zoned out - he often didn’t, Keith was beginning to learn - and was totally preoccupied with pointing out his own favorite plants and describing whatever he knew about them.
“Participate in the conversation,” Allura said. “Find something you like, point it out.”
“You know, these lampposts are really pretty,” Keith said, gesturing to one that had been carved to look like an intricate series of stone vines was wrapped around it.
“Pick a plant, Keith, you’re in a garden,” Allura said, and Keith could practically hear her rolling her eyes.
“Oh, and, uh, these - these flowers here,” Keith said, pointing toward a bed of red and orange flowers with particularly wide petals.
Olren grinned. “You like these?” He finally let go of Keith’s hand, and Keith, relieved, dropped his arm to the side as Olren bent down toward the flowers. He plucked one, and stood up again, and held it out to Keith. “Go ahead,” he said. Keith gingerly accepted the flower. “Smell it,” Olren added.
He brought the flower to the nose and gave it a sniff. It smelled vaguely like a mix of apples and laundry detergent. Nothing to write home about, but Olren was watching him eagerly, so Keith gave him a stiff smile and nod.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” said Olren.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m glad you picked that one. Its pollen is an aphrodisiac, you know.”
Immediately Keith dropped the flower, while in his ear Pidge made a retching sound. “Ew, dude, what the fuck?” she said.
“You know, I believe we grow a variety of that flower in our herbatorium,” Coran said. “Its roots can soothe burns. I hadn’t been aware of this property, though.”
“Everything’s an aphrodisiac if you’re kinky enough,” said Lance.
Olren, meanwhile, was laughing as he leaned over to pick the flower back up. “Well,” he said, “It is to Yuiprans, anyway. I don’t know that the effect is universal.” Grinning, he reached up and put the flower under Keith’s nose again, tickling at it with the petals, and Keith couldn’t help but take a step back. The king just laughed again. “You oughtn’t be so nervous, paladin Keith,” he said, letting the flower fall back to the ground. “It’s probably so much harder to enjoy the evening that way.”
“I’m - I’m not nervous,” Keith stammered.
Olren clicked his tongue and shook his head, still smiling. “No need to try to pretend. I find it flattering, really. That you’re so anxious for things to go well between us. That I excite you, scare you. Take your breath away. Your hands are shaking, you know.” Suddenly his hand was laid flat against Keith’s chest. “Your heart’s pounding. You feel a flurry, don’t you? A spark?”
“Uh…” was the only sound Keith could manage.
The hand on his chest moved to his chin, tilting his head back slowly as Olren stared at his face, eyes like spears piercing his own. “You’re very beautiful, you know,” he said softly.
And before Keith could say a word in protest, Olren had moved in for a kiss.
He was too stunned to do anything but stand there and let it happen. In his earpiece he could hear his team, letting out a mix of congratulations that he was pulling this off, and disgusted groans. He wasn’t sure whose voice was whose, but he himself would be firmly in the latter category if he could. And with the camera’s positioning, the others didn’t have to watch the actual kiss go down.
There would probably be more sounds of disgust if they could, Keith figured as the kiss continued, Olren’s saliva feeling like slush against the skin around Keith’s lips. He tried to start pulling his face away, but Olren tightened his grip on his chin and held him in place, prying Keith’s lips apart as his tongue poked into his mouth. It was bizarrely cool and slick as it joined the kiss. Like there was a slug writhing around in his mouth. Olren began letting out little grunts of delight, while it was all Keith could do not to gag.
“Is he ever gonna stop for breath?” Pidge said.
“God, I did not sign up for listening to Keith have a makeout session,” said Lance. “There a fast-forward button on this thing?”
“Er, Keith?” Allura said. “You… you can pull away, if you need to…”
Gratefully Keith took her up on her offer, although it took a couple of tugs to get Olren to finally break the kiss and let Keith stumble back. Olren was quick to catch him with an arm on his back, and that sharp grin returned as he straightened Keith up. “Delectable,” he said. “Utterly delectable. You’re quite the treat, paladin Keith.”
“Yeah, okay,” Keith managed to grunt out. “So, um, how - how much longer do you, um, do you have planned? For tonight?”
“Keith, don’t ask that!” Shiro said. “Don’t make it obvious you want to leave!”
Olren raised a brow. “You’re so keen already to move on to the end of the evening?”
“Well, you know.” Keith shrugged, ignoring Shiro’s groan in his ear.
Thankfully, Olren didn’t seem offended. In fact, his smile seemed to widen as he nodded. “Certainly,” he said. “I admit, I do usually like a little more time with my companions first, but tonight has been… well, simply lovely, to say the least. I’m willing to make an exception.” He held out his arm. “Come along. We can adjourn to my private chambers ahead of schedule, and consummate our alliance now.”
Keith stood in shocked silence, not quite sure if he’d heard right. The same must have happened with his teammates back at the castle, since there was a pause before Lance hesitantly spoke. “I’m sorry, did he - did he just say - ?”
“Head out of the gutter, Lance,” said Shiro. “In business, ‘consummate’ just means to finalize something, make it official.”
“But why would they need to go to his ‘private chambers’ for that?”
“Maybe, er,” said Allura. “Maybe he meant a private office?”
Meanwhile Olren was still staring at Keith, his arm still held out invitingly. Cautiously, Keith took a step back before asking, “Um, when - when you say ‘consummate’, do - do you mean, um…?”
“Physically,” Olren said. “Of course.” He laughed lightly as the sounds of his teams’ indignation echoed in Keith’s earpiece. “You’re still a little nervous, aren’t you?” He stepped toward Keith, a hand coming up to take him by the shoulder. “There’s no need to be. I can be gentle. At first.” He winked, and Keith’s stomach clenched.
“Is he fucking serious?!” said Pidge. “What the hell?!”
“Shit, is he - he’s actually telling Keith to - ” Lance said.
“It doesn’t matter what he’s telling Keith to do, he’s not gonna fucking do it!” Pidge snapped.
She was right. Black Paladin or not, alliance or not, this was too much. This was a line he couldn’t cross. “Look, um,” Keith said, shrugging Olren’s hand off of his shoulder. “I’m, uh, I’m flattered and all, really, but - ”
“I’ve got ways we can settle those nervous of yours,” Olren said. “Aromatherapy is a wonder, you know. Lotions, candles.”
“Ew, ew, ew,” Hunk said. “That’s - this is so sleazy - ”
“Keith?” said Coran. “Keith, you don’t have to go that far.”
“Say you’re feeling ill,” said Allura.
“I’m actually feeling, um, kinda sick,” Keith said. “Probably shouldn’t, uh - ”
“So suddenly?” Olren asked. His hand was back, this time snaking around Keith’s back and pulling him close. “Mm, I think the only illness here is shyness. I happen to know a marvelous cure.”
“Look, I mean it, I - ”
“It’s necessary, you know, for a true alliance. That vulnerability, that trust. The closeness.”
“I don’t think - ”
“Say you’re engaged to another,” Allura suggested, her voice growing steadily more frantic. “Or, say that you’re - ”
“No, forget diplomacy,” Pidge said. “Tell him to fuck off, and RUN!”
Olren was leaning closer, his other hand coming up to card his fingers into Keith’s hair. Swallowing down his fear, Keith yanked away, his own hands up to push back from the king with a grunt of, “Get off me!”
Olren released him, frowning as Keith stumbled back. Keith tried his best to straighten on his gelatin-like legs, his heart beating like a sledgehammer against his throat. “I’m not - I don’t - no,” Keith panted. “No.”
His heart hammered in his throat as Olren stared at him, his perpetual smile gone for the first time all evening. “I see…” he said slowly. “Perhaps you can rejoin me tomorrow evening, then. It would give you some time to grow more… amenable, before we finalize our alliance.”
Keith shook his head. “I’m not going to ‘finalize’ anything with you. Not if that’s what you were aiming for.”
Something flashed across Olren’s face, something Keith couldn’t quite read, before the king said, “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. Did you not enjoy our evening together? Do you find me so unappealing that partnering with me upsets you so? You’re shaking again, Keith.”
“Hey, I didn’t - it’s not about that. That isn’t something I do. Ever. With anyone.”
“No?” Olren said, quirking a brow.
“No,” Keith repeated.
“Mm.” Olren crossed his arms, and somehow he seemed to be taller than Keith had remembered him being, the shadow cast on the stone walkway from the nearest lamp looming over Keith like a storm cloud. “That does present a difficulty, doesn’t it? I don’t much like to ally with those I cannot fully trust to commit fully.”
“Oh god, this is creepy,” Pidge whispered. “This is so, so creepy.”
“We - we need to do something,” said Hunk. “Guys?”
“Is this how you guys made your old alliance with Yuipra way back when?” Lance asked.
“No, of course not,” Allura said. “This is - stars, he cannot possibly think - ”
“Keith,” said Shiro. “Get out of there. We don’t need an alliance that badly.”
Keith took a deep breath. “Okay, look, um, clearly - clearly there was a, um, a misunderstanding, here, about what tonight was about. So I’m - I’m gonna just - ”
Cautiously he made to step around him, but Olren slid effortlessly into his path, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him back to face him. Keith winced at the grip; it was harder than any other time Olren had put a hand on him this evening. “I can’t help but wonder, paladin,” Olren said, his voice chilly in its steadiness. “What were you expecting tonight to be about?”
“Um.” Keith blinked. “Um, the alliance. You joining the Coalition.”
“And you still thought that, right up until moments ago, when you decided that you did not wish to accompany me to bed. Is that correct?”
“Uh…”
“Was I unclear in my intentions, Keith? I specifically asked you here as my date. I laid out the best dinner at the finest table I had to offer so that I could court you. I brought you out here to be with me beneath the moonlight. I took your hand, and you did not pull away.” With his free hand, Olren took Keith’s hand, intertwining the fingers and giving it a squeeze. “I kissed you, and you kissed me back.” He leaned in, close enough that Keith could feel his breath on his skin as steely eyes bore into his own. “That was not about the coalition, Keith. That was about you, and about me.”
“Okay, yeah, but I - I didn’t think - ” He tried to pull his hand out of Olren’s grasp, but the king held firm. “I didn’t think you wanted to go that far.”
“Things always go that far, eventually,” Olren said. “Why did you think we wouldn’t, Keith? When you decided to accompany me tonight, did you not consider where we might take our affections?”
“Look, those are your affections, okay?!” Keith growled. “You’re the one who wanted to make this a date! All we wanted was an alliance!”
Olren froze, eyes widening, and Keith felt his nails start digging into his arm where he held him.
“Uh, Keith…” Shiro said uncertainly. “Maybe don’t - ”
“I think I understand now,” Olren said. “All this time, all evening, you’ve been making a fool of me.”
Keith shook his head hastily. “No, listen, it - ”
“You were here only for my resources, my services to Voltron. Were willing to take the offering from me and leave me in the dust.”
Keith managed to yank his arm free of Olren’s grip, and made to jump back, but Olren kept a hold of his hand and pulled him back in, his other hand grabbing the fabric of Keith’s collar instead. “I don’t like being used, Keith,” he snarled, and his voice had a raspiness, an iciness, that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t like people playing with my heart, toying with me, breaking my heart for their own gain.”
“It’s - it’s not like that!” Keith gasped out. He reached up a hand to claw at Olren’s where it grasped his collar, trying to loosen the hold that was starting to squeeze against his windpipe. “I only wanted - ”
“I know what you wanted!” Olren said, giving Keith a forceful shake. “You wanted to take Yuipra’s riches and my dignity with it, and leave nothing in return. Well, Keith, I wanted something too, tonight. And like I’ve told you: I always get what I want.”
Finally Keith gave up on trying to pry Olren’s hand loose. Instead, he balled his own into a fist, and with all the force he could muster, aimed a blow toward the king’s face. The punch landed with a sickening crack, and in his shock Olren released him.
The moment he turned around to run, though, he was grabbed again, both arms in bruising grips that didn’t belong to Olren. A glance down showed golden gauntlets wrapped around his triceps, and too late he remembered the guards that were stationed everywhere in this palace. Two were holding him, and he thought he could hear a third behind him.
His team was shouting something, but he couldn’t discern the words. It all became a buzz to him as he thrashed in the guards’ grips, trying to get away. He heard a grunt as he elbowed one, and he flailed his legs and managed to land a kick with his heel against the other’s greave, before something was slammed against the back of his knee and pain radiated up and down his leg. The other was hit right after, and he was forced to the ground on his knees, his arms wrenched up behind his back with nearly enough force to pull his shoulders out of their sockets, one hand digging into his scalp to grab him by the hair and pull his head back, stretching out his neck as he panted for breath.
Olren stood before him, regal as ever, dabbing the back of his hand against his face where deep green Yuipran blood was trickling from his nose. “Not a wise move,” he said. “Assaulting a king in his own palace. You can’t have thought I would give up that easily.”
He stepped forward, kneeling down to lean in toward Keith’s face, and stretched a hand out to brush the back of his fingers against his cheek. “Even in your rage, still so beautiful,” he said softly. “A pity you had to make things difficult like this.”
His hand moved to take Keith’s chin, squeezing his jaw in an iron grip. Keith could feel the sharp nails break the skin, warm blood droplets beginning to well beneath the claws. “We’re going to form that alliance, Keith,” Olren said. “And we’re going to do it my way.”
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