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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

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Match made in Hell : Chapter Five

A/N : Chapter five is here. I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying this series. Hope you like this chapter. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : death, violence, murder, mentions of blood, misogyny, language, little bit of fluff, sexual tension, flashbacks in italics.

SERIES MASTERLIST

You stormed out of the room furious at the false accusations Tom gave you. How dare he accuse you of infidelity? When he is the unfaithful one between you two. He never stopped bringing in girls, on days he would come home late you often woke up in the middle of night to hear filthy moans and screams coming from the guest bedrooms but you never complained nor accused him of anything because this is what your relationship was after all. You were just a married couple in the eyes of the society but within the confines of this huge mansion you were two separate individuals living separate lives.

You could easily take the reins in your hands and become a normal couple if you stopped pushing him away but he never tried to reconcile with you either. Both of your egos, not letting you to accept defeat even if it hurted you in the worst possible way. Interestingly you found your eyes wet, you were actually hurt by his words but why? Why do you care what he thinks about you? Emotions can be really messed up sometimes and you let them get the best of you. You shrug away those lingering thoughts and went to get dressed for today’s event.

Tom looked into the invitation card carefully and went to make some calls. He finally understood his mistake when he was informed about you taking over the property with the help of Harrison. He felt so ashamed of himself that he doubted his best friend moreover hurt you after you nursed him yesterday of his wounds and took care of him, you finally showed a little bit of affection towards him that he craved from day one but he single handedly ruined it. He went to look for you to be informed by Leslie that you already left.

Back at New York

"Rosette! Rosette!" Victor yells storming inside the house with rage followed by two of his capos.

"Anything wrong honey?" your mother's voice is calm and sweet as she walks down the stairs.

"Anything wrong? What have you done?!" His voice sharp, laced with anger.

"What have I done?" your mother acts coy.

"Now don't play dumb! Why did you write off the deed of rêves de nuit to Y/N?!"

"She asked me for it and how can I say no to my little girl?" her soft demeanor irks Victor even more. He grabbed on to her arm roughly and lashes out at her.

"You foolish woman! Have you gone out of your mind?!"

"I think it's you who have gone out of your mind Victor. That place has been left abandoned for years. At least Y/N is doing something good, you should be proud of her" she tries to talk some sense into him.

"Rosette you knew very well that place was very important to me, I used it to smuggle drugs and now it's gone all under legal protection, and it's all your fault!"

"Then get over it and stop whining about it like a little kid" Rosette snaps at him as Victor gives her an incredulous look.

"What did you say? Did you forget who you are talking to?!"

"Yes a coward, a failure in the name of a father"

"Rosette!!"

"Stop shouting!!" Rosette barks at him pulling her hand out of his hold "You really think I’m afraid of you" she scoffs "I was never scared of you instead I used to have men like you wrapped around my fingers before that goddamn night happened. All these years I kept numb just for my little girl’s sake but not anymore!"

"And now that she’s far away from your clutches, safe under the protection of her husband I have nothing more to worry about"

"You wretched slut!" Victor grabs hold of her throat, choking her.

"You’re going to kill me? Well go ahead ‘cause I have already made a will and written everything in my name to Y/N. So if I die you lose half of your precious empire Victor Martinez" Victor tightens his grip as she gasps for air.

"Dad, stop what are you doing?!" Jules intervenes in time pulling him off her "it's useless to ask her. We better introspect the real culprit that is my sister. Why did she want that place?"

****

You were at your underground bar of your newly owned diner supervising everything before tonight’s grand opening of the speakeasy when Harrison walks inside with a carton of liquor bottles. He had finally called you back last night as soon as he got to know about Tom’s accident.

Even though they weren’t on talking terms but he was his best friend and naturally he was concerned about his well being. You talked for an hour apologizing to him on Tom’s behalf. He assured you that it wasn’t your fault and he wasn’t mad at you and he would definitely come for the opening night. Harrison placed the carton carefully on the counter before taking out the bottles and placing them on the shelves one by one.

You take a deep breath and made your way towards him standing on the other side of the counter as you speak.

"I really don't know what to say to you Haz. Even after what happened between you and Tom you decided to help me. I just can't thank you enough" you say with guilt in your voice.

"Y/N I already told you that whatever happened wasn’t your fault besides we're friends now so you don’t need to thank me and as long as I get free booze I’m totally fine" he lets out an airy laugh making you smile.

"Well I can totally arrange that but I really feel sorry for ruining your friendship, that's the last thing I ever wanted"

"It wasn't your fault I know Tom and his unnecessary paranoia very well, he will soon understand his mistake and come running back to you"

"I wasn’t talking about me.." your conversation is cut short when you hear murmuring, chattering and lots of footsteps coming from upstairs. You and Harrison went upstairs to find Tom surrounded by a bunch of reporters

"Always has to make a dramatic entrance" Harrison scoffs, shaking his head annoyed. You were still processing what was going on in here.

"Mr Holland, what do you have to say about your wife’s new accomplishment?" One of them asks.

"I'm really proud of my wife. She has always been a smart and business minded woman" you had to interfere with whatever was going on as you strided towards him.

"Tom?"

"Ah the boss lady arrives!" Tom exclaims "come here darling it’s your day after all" He wraps an arm around your waist pulling you close to him, you smiled at the cameras feeling a little uneasy with all the unnecessary attention.

"Congratulations mam, what made you decide to reopen this place?" a reporter asks.

"Umm to be honest this place is owned by my family and it had a huge name during the 90’s just trying to bring back it’s glory" you say with a smile etched on your face posing for the cameras before you excused yourselves dragging Tom to a corner.

"What are you doing here?! And what are these guys here for?!!” You hissed.

“What kind of a husband would I be if I didn't come to show my support to my gorgeous wife on her life's new endeavors?" you roll your eyes annoyed as he continues. "and those are just for a little publicity of this place"

"Well that's very generous of you given that I was cheating on you" You jab.

"Okay that was a minute misunderstanding I shouldn’t have doubted you or Harrison"

"And I’m elated with your quick realization" You say with a sarcastic tone.

"Won't you offer me a drink darling?" He asks with a smug grin.

"This is a kids friendly diner Tom, no alcoholic beverages so if you're up for a chocolate smoothie I can get you one" you quip.

"What about the underground speakeasy? I bet there's a bar over there" he says with a knowing smirk and you scowl.

"What? Don't look at me like that it does things to me’’ he says cockily making you roll your eyes. ‘‘And it has been a really long day for me a glass of whisky would really help"

You scoff. ‘‘You’re unbelievable!’’

"Now c'mon chop chop" he ushers you. You huff, as you tilt your head raising an eyebrow to tell him to follow you.

You lead him down the stairs to the underground speakeasy. Upon entering Tom's body stiffens seeing Harrison sitting near the bar counter.

"I think you owe him an apology for acting like a jealous bitch" you muttered into his ear.

"Well he didn't apologize either" he retorts and you look at him in disbelief.

"Seriously? You really gonna do this right now?" you chide, he was about to say something but you cut him off

"Listen I hate you and nothing is going to change that. But I don't want to be the reason that two best friends drifted away. So for once keep aside your goddamn ego and go apologize" Tom stood there staring at you still hesitant.

"Don't stand here looking at my face, go!" you order him. He slowly made his way to where Harrison was sitting. Harrison notices him coming and gives him a side eye continuing to have his drink. Tom clears his throat taking a seat next to him.

"Hey man listen I know I have been a complete asshole to you lately and I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have said whatever I said that day" Harrison puts down his glass and glances at him with a serious face. He grabs another glass and pours some whisky passing on the glass to Tom.

"How’s your arm?" He asks nonchalantly.

"It’s better now" Tom says, picking up the glass.

"We need to find those fucking bastards and show them who’s the boss over here"

"Oh that we bloody will and I trust you with that" Tom places a hand on his Harrison’s shoulder proudly.

Harrison sighs deeply. "I was really hurt you know" Tom’s brow knits in a frown as he was filled with guilt.

"I know Haz and I'm really sorry for everything but you know very well the reason behind this hysteria of mine" He rambles.

"Well she is worth all the hysteria" Harrison looks at you with admiration in his eyes "she's the perfect queen to your empire mate. Her wits can out match anyone, don't let her slip away" Tom glances at you proudly admiring how you radiated power with grace.

"I won't" He takes a sip of his drink. He couldn't help but check you out through the rim of the glass. The flared dress with a low neckline that you chose to wear for today only accentuate your features, the loose wavy hairdo complimenting your look.

"She's a hard read though one second she's all good and happy and soon she's cold and hostile"

As the evening rolled in it was time to officially inaugurate you went up the stage the speakeasy was packed with guests mostly from the high class families of London.

"Well good evening and welcome to everyone present at the opening or may I say reopening of rêves de nuit . I hope you have a good time here" As soon as you left the stage the jazz group which you had hired for the speakeasy took over playing somber music setting the mood for the night. The room was buzzing with men and women drinking, having hearty conversations and enjoying the ambience. Some of them came to congratulate you on your excellent work and you couldn’t be any happier. You wanted to stay the whole night but Tom didn’t want you to stay out late and you needed some rest after everything. You finally decided to leave after Harrison repeatedly assured you that he will look after everything.

****

You were now back at your house. Tom was already in the shower as you stepped inside the bathroom standing near the mirror to take off your makeup.

"Oh god! I'm so tired" you huff.

"Already?" Tom quips from inside the shower room, you roll your eyes.

"What do you mean already? Do you know how much work it is to run a diner as well as a speakeasy?"

"Maybe a little given that I run the most powerful mob of London" He replies teasingly.

You pour some micellar water on a cotton pad and rub it on your skin. You hear the shower go off as Tom walks out of the steam filled shower room with a towel wrapped around his hips. Your eyes continuously fleeting towards him as you glanced at his reflection through the mirror. His hair wet water dripping down his curls over his sturdy and muscular chest. He looked magnificent, you thought.

To be honest with the amount of vodka martinis you had tonight you were presently not in the right state of mind and that’s why you had to admit that watching him like this does make your stomach do a flip for a good unknown reason. Maybe this is what happens when you start living with someone 24/7 close to their proximity even though you plain and simply hate that person from the bottom of the heart. You just can’t help but start to notice the good things of the person too.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice him standing behind you, every breath you take you now only smell the cedary scent of his shampoo. You subconsciously gnaw your lower lip anticipating his next move. He lifts his hands to hold on your shoulders you shudder at the feeling of his cold hands on your warm skin. He gently starts to squeeze your shoulder muscles lightly massaging them you begin to relax as a soft moan escapes your mouth.

"Feels good right?" His lips quirk into a light smirk

"Mm hmm" you hum in satisfaction "a little to the right" Tom complies to your request trailing his hand to where you exactly wanted.

"Oh yeah right there.. Perfect" you breath out tilting your head to your left exposing a little more area of your smooth skin for him. Tom perfectly knew what he was doing as he listened to the little sounds you made.

"Have you considered taking up the job of a masseur? I mean you would do really good in that profession" you tease smiling eyes still shut as you enjoyed your free massage.

"Well you see-" Tom finally took the brave step testing the waters as he brushes your hair aside "these massages are private and only for one special person" He places a soft gentle kiss on the curve of your neck, your breath hitches and you flutter your eyes open.

"Wha-what are..you doing?" You stutter whilst he slowly turns you around caging you between him and the marble counter.

"Nothing as of now but if you want I can" His voice an octave lower as he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear resting his palm on your cheek.

"I don’t want anything from you" you retort.

"Hmm is that so, love? But I think your heart desires something after all" He gently brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, he has indeed caught you in a vulnerable state. The leftover alcohol in your system clouding your judgement. You don’t know why but standing this close to him made you feel safe and loved. He wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him you instinctively raise your hands placing your palms flat on his broad chest.

"Why don't you just let me go?" You squirm in his hold

"Because darling you drive me crazy" His voice husky.

"You know I will never be able to give you the love you want from me" you say quietly.

"I beg to differ"

"And how's that?"

"Because some girls like bad boys and you my dear have always been attracted to me or why else would you let me do this" He leans down and kisses the sensitive spot behind your ear making you gasp.

You wanted him to stop because every word that rolled out of his tongue in fact was true you were always drawn to people’s darkness. Maybe, maybe if you weren’t forced into this marriage, maybe if he didn’t have a hand in the death of Ethan, maybe if you had met him in a different circumstance you would have fallen for him instantly.

"But I-I loved someone and you can never take his place" Your voice was shaky.

"Well love, he was your first but I intend to be your last however long it takes" His lips curve to form a light grin as he swipes the tip of his tongue through his lower lip eyes trailing down from your eyes to your red tinted lips.

"I-I.." the words died down in your throat.

"Ssh.." He shushes you bringing his lips dangerously close to yours, his hot breath fanning your face. You were breathing erratically as you closed your eyes shut and just then your phone rang loudly, you jumped in surprise breaking you out of the moment, you pushed him off you as he stumbled back. You take your phone in your hand and frown at the caller id.

"Daddy?" You leave the room hastily to somewhere alone.

Tom tsks, shaking his head annoyed at how you were finally having a moment and it just got ruined. He finally had you under his grasp and you were almost ready to give in but damn you Victor.

"This man has truly turned out to be the villain in my business as well as my love life" He huffs.

"Oh hi daddy!" You chirp bringing the phone to your ear

"You sound really happy, mija"

"That I am didn't mom tell you about my new diner? Today was it's opening night"

"Yeah I heard about that and congratulations on making it to list of enemies of the vipers"

"What do you mean enemies? Daddy I started a new business on my own you should be proud of me"

"By taking away the prime location which I was using to expand my hold on the European drug cartel"

"Well maybe if you would have treated me like a daughter and not just like any of your lackeys doing your dirty job then things would have been different"

"My love for you has always been my weakness and that is why I trusted you even when Jules warned not to.

"You never loved me! You had turned me into a monster!!"

"I just tapped the darkness inside you dear so you could protect yourself which I was successful indeed" you hear him chuckle lowly. "Take this as a fair warning Y/N after tonight whatever happens will be the consequence of your betrayal, every drop of blood shed will be on your hands"

"What do you mean by consequences? What are you—” you were cut off.

"Well goodnight sweetheart sweet dreams"

"Wait! Daddy?" the call ended.

****

The whole week you spent with your father’s threatening words spiraling inside your head along with the moment you had with Tom in the bathroom. You didn’t talk about it the next day neither did he but still you were wary about it in weakness of the moment you couldn’t deny that you were developing feelings for him which scared you. You told William every bit of the conversation you had with your father and he advised you stay alert and start carrying your gun which you couldn’t comply with. You had kept yourself busy with work at the diner and speakeasy but the constant anticipation of what will be your father’s next move kept on reeling at the back of your mind.

You finally decided that it's better you carry a gun for your safety so you opened the drawer where you had kept your gun hidden and one look at it memories came back rushing in. That gun serves as a reminder of one of your darkest phases in life and you fear that you may again spiral into that darkness again to no one to pull you out.

The allure of darkness is so overwhelming even the most purest hearts get drawn to it and you weren't an exception. You killed the first time to save your loved one but the bloodlust got you after that.

‘‘Here's your birthday gift sweetheart’’ your father said handing you a new shining FN five-seven ‘‘I really didn't think you would be brave enough to handle all this given your mother being so protective of keeping you safe from the real world that you have to deal yourself one day but you proved everyone yesterday that the Martinez blood flows in your veins’’ You took the gun silently and went to your room. You still couldn’t pull yourself out of the trauma of killing the person the other day and here your father is celebrating by presenting you a gun. You cried the whole night in agony and fear. From the next day William was incharge of training you to expertly use a gun.

And that was just the beginning of your walk towards your darkness. Just like a tiger after its first taste of human blood turns into a man eater for you, your first kill was frightening and was a desperate measure to save your mother, you hesitated the next two times too but after that you started to enjoy it. A bloodlust took over you, your first instinct to anything wrong was to remove it from this world. You turned into your dad's personal mercenary, who killed for fun.

"Why did you kill Dan?" Jules walked into your room while you are busy doing your homework.

"I didn't like his attitude" you informed nonchalantly.

"Sister killing our rivals was ok but you can't kill our own men just because you don't like their attitude" You rolled your eyes

"Brother you have been part of the family business for much longer than me and you should know very well if you want people to listen to you then they gotta fear you. That’s exactly what I did, I sent a message to the men who question my authority because I’m a girl." you gritted your teeth.

"You need to stop sister before you regret your impulsive killing one day"

And soon you realized how deep you were stuck in it.It was your senior prom night students were enjoying their last bit of school life to their fullest but not you. You were on a mission, someone stole your father’s money and you were about to kill his son who is in your class as payback. You lured him out of the school building to a desolate alley and pulled out your gun aiming right at his heart but you were interrupted by your best friend Elizabeth.

"Y/N no! Please don’t do this" she stood in front of the boy guarding him.

"Lizzie move! I’m gonna kill this bastard!"

"No Y/N, stop please I love him"

"He isn’t good for you Lizzie, his dad is an imposter who duped my dad and I’m gonna kill him to punish his dad"

"if you have to kill him then it has to be over my dead body" Lizzie held onto the nozzle of your gun. You tried to pull the gun out of her grasp, both of you struggling to take away the gun between all the scuffle you accidently pulled the trigger. The bullet punched a hole right through her navel. Lizzie let out a choked gasp, her eyes bulged out while her body went limp. You threw your gun away as you rested her head on your lap

"Lizzie? No, no, no what have I done?!" You wept as she took her last breath in your arms.

"I-I'm so sorry Lizzie"

Since then the dying face of your best friend in your arms haunts you.

"Y/N can you do me a favor?" Tom’s voice breaks you out of your daze. "Can you pick up Paddy from his boarding school? I have a packed schedule today"

"Don’t worry I’ll go" You say with a smile

"Thank you so much" He says happily and leaves for his work.

You ponder for a while and finally decide to carry the gun with you. You grab the gun and lift your top, tucking the gun in the holster inside the waistband of your jeans. You leave the mansion to pick up Paddy from his boarding school.

He was elated to see you waiting for him. You help him get his things inside the car before you drive him back to your house. The whole ride you chatted he told you about all the things he learnt so far and the fun he had with his friends. You entered the driveway of your house as you felt something was odd there were no security personnel on the gate that usually used to stand there to escort you inside.

You enter the house and instantly get the feeling that something was off, it is way too quiet to your liking in here.

"Y/N the other day" Paddy was going about his story.

"Paddy, ssh…" you shush him "-stay behind me" you order as you pull out your gun from your back eyes scanning the living room

"I know somebody is in here, it's time to show your face or are you that scared of me" you say mockingly.

"You are very wrong to think that I will be scared of a tiny, weak woman like you" a tall man appears from behind the heavy curtains.

"Well that’s debatable, now tell me what do you want?" you demand sternly.

"My father told me once that if he was to ever be murdered, not to take the life of the man who killed him, but to take the lives of the people that man loved the most"

"Paddy, go and hide in the study!" you order him.

"But Y/N.. " He hesitates to leave you alone.

"Run!" you insist with a stern voice. Paddy didn’t resist further and runs away while you covered for him.

"You think you can save that kid from me" the man mocks and you didn’t delay for a moment as you fired three shots one after the other. The bullets punched holes on his chest knocking him down.

You scoff. "Think? I already did" You put your gun down and sighed deeply when you were sure that man was dead but suddenly an arm wraps around your throat holding you in a choke hold catching you off guard. You drop your gun and struggle to free yourself.

"Didn’t see this coming did you?" the man mutters in your ears, malice in his voice. You found the voice quite familiar and turned your head to find an indeed familiar face from the gala.

"Miller? You really have got the nerve to break into our house after what Tom did to your family"

"I used to fear him but not anymore not when I have the support of a deadly gang who really did a number on your husband"

“The gang which you’re relying upon so much, their days are numbered I can assure you that.” you say. “And Tom will not leave anyone of your alive once he comes to know about your audacity.”

"Such a shame I heard a lot of things about you but guess what you are just a sweet little angel who needs to be protected"

"Oh honey I was just warming up” you stamp on his foot hard and he flinches back in pain, loosening his grip on you. Next you jerk your head up hitting him right under his chin making him groan in pain. You hold his hand and freed yourself twisting his arm hard and grab onto his hair roughly. You smash his head with force on the glass coffee table. The glass shattered into pieces as Brandon screams in pain and collapses on the floor with blood flowing out from his skull. You swiftly pick up your gun from the floor and place your right foot on the middle of his chest whilst applying pressure, the heel of your shoe dug into his chest. He was writhing in pain under you as you cocked the gun at him.

"You see I’m definitely an angel, the angel of death and you have really pissed me off" You say with a menacing voice.

"You should have met me three years ago I would have loved to torture you to death but this new me is full of mercy and I’ll give you a quick relief from your pathetic life" You point the gun right in the middle of his eyes and pull the trigger.

After cleaning your hands off the blood and go to find Paddy in the study and bring him down to the dining area. You made him some hot chocolate and a coffee for yourself.

After sometime Tom rushes in followed by his men. Worry and fear clouding his features.

"Paddy! You're okay" he hugs him tightly heaving a sigh of relief.

"I'm fine brother all thanks to Y/N" Tom glances at you as you put your coffee mug down.

"The bodies are in the living room" you inform him blandly. Tom directs his men to do all the clean up necessary and himself went to check the reason behind this security breach. He was furious his brother’s and wife’s life was in grave danger and he wasn’t there to protect them. He felt like a complete failure.

****

You were in your room sitting on the bed with a first aid kit nursing some minor cuts you suffered during the fight. You were feeling so angry as well as guilty. You still couldn’t believe your dad would go so far just to teach you a lesson to not to meddle with him. You were cent percent sure that he was behind this planned attack. There was no way anybody could infiltrate the mansion and Tom had made sure of that a long time ago. This was his way of warning you because he knew very well that you can single handedly take down those idiots. But Paddy didn’t have to witness this; he's just a kid who just got dragged into a power fight between a daughter and father. What if you weren’t with him? Your heart panged at the mere thought.

"Y/N can I come in?" Paddy’s soft voice breaks you out from your thoughts.

"Yeah sure Pads, come sit" you pat on the mattress beside you. He walks inside and sits beside you.

"Are you hurt?" he looks at you concerned.

"Oh it’s nothing, just a teeny tiny scratch" you assure him. Tom is about to enter your room to take Paddy to his parents house but stops near the doorway to listen to your conversation.

"Thank you for saving my life Y/N"

"You don’t need to thank me Pads, you are my like my little brother I’ll always protect you with my life. You say smiling "How much of it did you see?" you ask him skeptically as he gulped nervously.

"Umm most of it actually but after you smashed that bastard's head I didn't have nerves to see further so then I ran to the study" He answers meekly.

"So are you scared of me?"

"No! Why would I? Instead you looked so cool fighting those guys just like the black widow in avengers"

"Really? That's a first for me" you snicker amused.

"Y/N can you teach me how to use a gun?" He asks you coyly.

"What?" You knit your eyebrows "I mean to say you have your brothers right? They can teach you"

"They are way too busy" he shrugs.

"But why do you want to learn in the first place?"

"I don’t want to be the weak spot for our family" He says sadly, you felt bad for him.

"Hey you’re not weak, I myself never liked to be a part of this but circumstances made me like this. But you have a choice and it’s up to you what you want to do. If you want I can talk to your brother."

"But if you still want to learn I can spare some time for you" his face lights up instantly "but that’ll be only for self defense."

"Yes okay" he hugged you as you ruffled his hair lovingly. Tom couldn’t help but smile at how caring you were.

"Y/N can I ask you something?"

"Yes anything Pads"

"Y/N, don’t you like my brother?" you feel a little uneasy at the question.

"Okay, who told you that?" you chuckle.

"Nobody, but you and Tom seem to be always angry with each other"

"You see, I am angry at him"

"Why did he do something bad?"

"Well yeah he did something bad actually helped"

"Can’t you just forgive him?"

"I don’t know Pads and fairly speaking he didn’t apologise either so" you half shrug. Tom didn’t want to listen further so he called out from outside the room.

"C’mon Pads it’s time to go home!"

"Yeah coming Tom"

****

"I retire and all hell breaks loose!!" Tom stands in the living room of his parent’s house along with his brothers as his father yells at him.

"How many times did I tell you Tom to keep your woman under control?!!"

"But dad-"

"But what?! If it wasn’t for her impulsive and reckless decision to take over the club my little Paddy’s life wouldn't have been at gunpoint!" He lashes out."And this is why I don’t like woman getting involved in the business of men"

"Dad try to understand those were the son of Samuel Miller whom we tried to killed and framed him of murder. They were our enemies."

"And now I’m wrong and your wife is right for you, she has really turned you into her puppet I can see that very well"

"Nobody has turned into anybody’s puppet dad, she saved paddy’s life risking her own at least a little gratitude she deserves from our side. And I promise I’ll finish them, whoever comes after my family "

"You better do it" His father says sternly before leaving the room.

"It’s going to be ok Tom, its just after we heard about the attack we were very worried" Nikki makes him understand

"That is why I came here to ask dad’s permission to bring Y/N here for few days but I don't think that's possible dad's really pissed off"

"It's ok I'm sure she will be fine. She doesn't seems to be the kind of woman to be easily shaken up by these things"

"That's true"

"Just try to be there for her. She needs you more than anyone else right now."

****

You were getting ready for bed as you walked to the dressing table to brush your hair to find a box from Tiffany kept on the table. You open the box to find a dazzling diamond cluster necklace inside a little after Tom walks in to see you have found his little thank you gift.

"A plain and simple thank you would have been enough" you say closing the box.

"Yeah maybe but I didn’t gift you anything on our wedding night so took the chance and also thanks for saving my brother’s life"

"No need for that Paddy is innocent he doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this power grabbing war, even though we may have our differences, truth be told... I like your family, though your other two brothers aren’t that fond of me and that’s fine but the bond you share is precious and I’m truly jealous of you for that, wish my family had that kind of bond" you purse your lips in a smile.

"And I see paddy as my younger brother so I’m begging you as his elder sister Tom you’re his brother he looks up to you don’t let this happen to him. Don’t let him go through this bloodshed and violence which you and I went through when we were his age. Let him live his life. He still has a choice to do whatever he wants to do with his life. Don’t let his pure and innocent heart get lost in this darkness"

"I never wanted this for him at least I just wanted to run the business just like my dad but they are targeting my family" Tom finally speaks.

"You chose to be the leader of this mob Tom. The target on your back? It comes with the job"

"But Paddy wasn’t meant to be the target!"

"Tom, someone came at your family! It might be one today, but if you sit back and do nothing, by tomorrow, there'll be more. You gotta respond with a show of force"

"I know that very well more than you, okay! He sounded irritated but the person you are asking me to go against is your dad. And you're his daughter so Y/N Holland I ask you where do your loyalties lie?" you exhale deeply before looking straight into his eyes.

"If my loyalty is an issue then let me tell you that I hate that man more than anyone in this world. He ruined my mom's life, my life and now he wanted to kill a child just to get back at me" you lower your voice an octave "Do whatever is necessary. I'll not come in your way. I can assure you that" saying so you turned away. The words that you said to Paddy before were still replaying at the back of Tom’s mind and he mustered up the courage and spoke up.

"Y/N I’m sorry"

..............................................................................

Taglist in bio or send me an ask/dm I’ll add you.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #harrison osterfield #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #haz osterfield

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srbachchan · 3 years

Text

DAY 4840

Jalsa, Mumbai May 29, 2021 Sat 11:02 PM

.. time is being spent in educating the system that has been a silent spectator all these years of formative thinking or learning .. the matters that mattered then were matters that required minds and teachers to explain guide and register the value of the information needed .. now that entire division has undergone a sea change .. and the NEt has become the instrument of all answers to questions ..

I shall confess .. never have I been more a gainer of knowledge than since the inception of the NEt .. glory be to the wired wire of information , wired the world over to get what you need , to know to learn and educate yourself ..

.. and that too if you want to .. many today do not and have the courage to say so to the elders and those that parent them , but .. many do .. and are sufficiently at peace with their decisions .. the advisory committee that sat upon us on all that we thought and needed to do has been replaced to independent articles of information ..

Concerned .. ?

Those that matter or feel it matters .. NOT AT ALL ..

An observation ..

There are many among us in the Ef that come at the end of the DAY to respond to the Blog and there are many that do more .. they be on the T and the FB both and at times the Insta ..

This is most heartening and apart from the kind gestures of gratitude that they pour out , many come up with their creative talents as well ..

.. a poem , a video an artwork done with relevant pictures .. some thoughts and visuals of religious belief .. some an educative observation .. often an adage or a saying that draws attention .. humour .. the lot ..

At times I give it direct response and at times I give it a further mention on my T and FB .. and the credit it gets is most glorious .. BUT the credit is yours .. and there is an effort made to give the acknowledgement as carefully as possible ..

So when I shall further a site of importance the rest also seek attention, by drawing you to theirs .. and so one ..

.. at times there are funny videos or jokes ..

I bring this up because I wish to thank all of them formally for their individual contributions .. I may not have the time to give response or recognition immediately or ever, but it is read and greatly appreciated .. my love and gratitude .. 🙏🙏🙏❤️❤️❤️🌹🌹🌹

So I ask .. when the time comes I shall seek your creative inputs to some of the works that I think of in the future .. like a video creative edit .. some jokes that can be put out or up in any opportunity .. a poem .. a statement that has moral social value etc.,

.. this is by no means an invitation to flood the Blog with all that I ask, but yes in moderation it would be most welcome ..

some good jokes would be fun immediately ..

recently the Pati , Patni one on the TV food show and the KBC show , was hilarious .. similarly at times poems that have been creatively approved has been given voice and background music for events on release ..

So, there you have been included in the require ..

I seek the wisdom in each day of the pages of Babuji .. I never have to seek long .. randomly I open any page from any of the entire Library and something generously stares at me .. and that becomes the learning for the DAY ..

In the World of today and its billionous voices .. the interpret is a billion too .. which is rather ingenious .. in a free world .. at times the interpret is given a colour that you had never meant of thought of .. and the reasoning for which has driven all to caution ..

Many though rather enjoy the attention, even if it be obtuse and uneven ..

SO .. what is the MANTRA ..?

NOTICE .. !!!

Notice me .. hear me .. listen to me .. read me .. write me ..

I had that liberty earlier too, but never did it go beyond the four walls of my living .. now it does .. in the widest possible celestial stratospheric , unimagined world, ever before ..

And that is the blessing that is sought and desired .. and hence the ..

NOTICE ... !!!

So what does one do ..

live dangerously and give a damn or care on the repercussions ..

OR .. live , within the boundaries declared by the self or society ..

AND that ladies and gentlemen of the jury has become the most ubiquitous decision EVER .. for the write for the think for the opinion ..

So yes when I do bring notice of the delete, I do think of many factors .. and comes the answer ..

एक चुप , सौ सुख !!

AND the beauty is that even this 👆🏾 is up for interpretation .. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Amitabh Bachchan

.. but before I leave a word ..

OUR dearest Ef Punjaban , has been going through extremely tough times .. it is difficult to imagine this full of life and vigour and laughter Ef, now in distress .. her husband Tony has been in ill health for long .. and after great deliberation she has taken a very bold step and decided to admit him to a Hospice ..

You must know Ef Punjaban that the entire family prays for you and yours .. may all be well and in the care of the best that can be done .. we are all with you in these challenging times .. 🙏🙏🙏 .. rab raakha ..

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dreamersleeps · 3 years

Text

Feathers of Truth and Judgement

Ma’at and the Weighing of the Heart: Revisiting the Death of Jin Bubaigawara

Before I begin, this may not make any sense if you are not familiar with some of what I’ve written about. This is an add on to my post about the interesting similarities between Hawks’ character and the Egyptian God Horus.

Recap: Tokoyami, Hawks and Endeavor

To recap what I’ve already written previously, there are most definitely Greek/Roman mythological influences in BNHA but there are also Egyptian ones as well most explicitly through Tokoyami Fumikage who basically looks like how Egyptian dieties were portrayed: the head of an animal and the body of a human. Additionally, he has a move named after an Egyptian symbol, the Ankh and his quirk, Dark Shadow is basically a version of the Egyptian concept of the shadow, called shut/swt.

And so I began looking at where else there may be some interesting similarities between BNHA and Egyptian mythology, and eventually started making some connections between Hawks and Horus, and Endeavor and Ra, the Sun God that fit the narrative and symbolism of the two characters. Whether they are mere coincidences or unintentional, I still think that it is interesting to look at and consider. So here we are.

The Egyptian Underworld

The image above is from the Book of the Dead of Ani. Osiris is depicted sitting with Isis and Nephthys behind him.

In Egyptian mythology, Horus is the son of Osiris and Isis. One of the most famous stories tells of how Osiris’ brother Set takes his life, cuts his body in to several pieces and disperses them across Egypt. A spirit can only travel in to the underworld if they are properly embalmed and buried so Horus and Isis travel around and search for the parts of Osiris’ body. (Depending on the source you are looking at, some say that Isis traveled around with her sister Nephthys, and Horus was born after she resurrects Osiris).

Osiris is resurrected and is able to travel to the underworld where he becomes the Egyptian Lord of the Underworld, and the Judge of the Dead.

Why am I bringing up Osiris? Well his son, Horus is important in relating back to Hawks and Endeavor, but he also leads us to another important deity who I will introduce later. Back when I was gathering information to work with, I noticed that there was some interesting bits about the Afterlife and Judgement process I wanted to add in but to keep it simple, I cut that part out. However, I thought that this was too interesting to not post about.

The Egyptian Afterlife and Judgement

In order to illustrate and explain what the ancient Egyptians believed happened after an individual passed, I included a large excerpt below from the World History Encyclopedia:

In the Egyptian Book of the Dead it is recorded that, after death, the soul would be met by the god Anubis who would lead it from its final resting place to the Hall of Truth.

When it came one’s turn, Anubis would lead the soul to stand before Osiris and the scribe of the gods, Thoth in front of the golden scales. The goddess Ma’at, personification of harmony and balance, would also be present and surrounded by the Forty-Two Judges who would consult with these gods on one’s eternal fate.

The soul would then recite the Negative Confessions in which one needed to be able to claim, honestly, that one had not committed certain sins. The negative declarations, always beginning with “I have not...” or “I did not...”, following the opening prayer went to assure Osiris of the soul’s purity. Each sin listed was thought to have disrupted one’s harmony and balance while one lived and separated the person from their purpose on earth as ordained by the gods.

Anubis or Qebhet, his daughter weighs a human’s soul against the weight of the feather of Ma’at while Osiris watches on, Isis and Nephthys behind him.

The ‘heart’ of the soul was handed over to Osiris who placed it on a great golden scale balanced against the white feather of Ma’at, the feather of truth on the other side. If the soul’s heart was lighter than the feather then the gods conferred with the Forty-Two Judges and, if they agreed that the soul was justified the person could pass on toward the Field of Reeds, or paradise.

If the heart proved heavier, it was thrown to the floor of the Hall of Truth where it was devoured by Amenti/Amut. Once the person’s heart is devoured, the individual soul ceased to exist (The ancient Egyptians had no concept that is equivalent to the Judeo-Christian hell).

I’m sure you’ve identified one of the key highlights from the excerpt above that connects directly to Hawks: Ma’at’s feather. Let’s take a closer look at the deity.

The Goddess Ma’at, the Feather of Truth and Judgment

In ancient Egyptian mythology, Ma’at was the goddess of truth, justice, balance and morality. She is often depicted as a woman, with a feather on her head and/or with wings (as depicted above). She was the daughter of the sun god Ra, and the wife of Thoth, the god of wisdom and the moon.

The feather she wears on her head symbolizes her being and presence. It was a representation of balance and order, and it eventually became a hieroglyph for “truth.”

Truth, truth, truth, what does it have to do with Hawks? Well, Hawks is a man who yearns for the truth. He seeks information out, collects it, and analyzes it. When he was first introduced he was shrouded in mystery, people wondered, was he someone to be trusted?

While he could be very blunt with the truth, he was also very deceptive and good at lying. Truth and knowledge is very intertwined with his character design as we see in his name.

Hawks’ true name, gets revealed to us through Dabi: Takami Keigo. According to the BNHA fandom website, Hawks’ surname translates as:

“hawk” (taka 鷹) + “see, visible, idea” (mi 見 )

While his first name translates as:

“disclose, open, say” (kei 啓) + “enlightenment, understanding” (go 悟).

What does Hawks do with all the information and “truths” he gathers? Well, what do we do when we hear or discover the truth?

We make a judgement.

In the court of law, truths and evidences are used to pass judgement. In ancient Egypt, Ma’at was associated with the law and justice.

The ‘Spirit of Ma’at’ was embodied by the chief judge in charge of the Egyptian law courts. He had a dual role, serving as both a priest and working directly in the law courts and justice system. They wore the feather of Ma’at and all other court officials wore small golden images of the goddess as a sign of their judicial authority, also as a symbol that their judgement would be balanced and fair.

Priests drew the Feather of Ma’at on their tongues with green dye, so that the words they spoke were the truth. They would rule on the earthly punishment according to the nature of the law that had been broken.

Punishments included imposing fines, corporal punishment and in extreme cases capital punishment. It was considered a crime against Ma’at if a person engaged in jealousy, dishonesty, gluttony, laziness, injustice, and ungratefulness (ancient origins).

Hawks’ Fierce Wings quirk gives him the ability to turn his feathers in to weapons as we see below which is quite ironic or absurd to think about.

How can a feather condemn someone to death? Well as we saw earlier, in ancient Egypt, one’s fate was determined by the sins they committed in the life they led, and ultimately the weight of their soul compared to that of the Feather of Ma’at.

We are presented with Jin’s backstory that Hawks was most likely able to dig up through his sources which is how he got to his conclusion.

Similar to the process that takes place in the Hall of Truth, Jin’s past and life is reviewed, gone through, and he see how he came to be the person he was. Hawks calls him unlucky. He believes that Jin is a good person, and can be helped.

The problem is, is that heroes are no supposed to act as the judge, jury or executioner. The main role of heroes is to save, and subdue those who are dangerous, passing them on to the police and courts of law: as Hawks was originally intending to do.

But as Jin continues to resist, Hawks changes his intentions.

Their struggle concludes with the death of Jin Bubaigawara.

The Heroes are not Gods

The ancient Egyptians looked to Ma’at to maintain the balance and harmony between good and evil. She represented the truth and morality, and under her guidance those behind the law passed judgement.

However Hawks is not Ma’at. He is not a god. Instead of acting as a servant of the law, Hawks takes it upon himself to embody and become the law. But on the basis of what exactly? It does not matter because he passes judgement himself. He takes his feather and executes Jin based on what he believes is the truth and justice. We are reminded of this objectiveness through the subtitle of Volume 27: One’s Justice.

For the longest time, heroes basically were perceived as living gods. Even worshipped, to an extent. Quirks set heroes apart from civilians, placing them on top of the pyramid of power. People lived in a hero saturated society, similar as to how the ancient Egyptians lived with their deities being a part of a great majority of their day to day existences. Despite all the interesting connections and parallels that I can write about, especially with Endeavor and Hawks, it does not change the truth that they are still human: as human as the quirkless. Perhaps their greatest fault was that they acted and lived like gods.

As always, thank you for putting in time to read through this post! I appreciate it. Manga panels throughout this post are from Chapters 264, 265, and 291

#hawks #takami keigo #twice #jin bubaigawara #bnha analysis #mha analysis #bnha meta #mha meta #mythological influences #bnha #mha #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #luna writes #my post

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

Text

Tides of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 14

Tides of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because we’re unexpectedly leaving the Sifa plot to head to where Dousan dwell.

Last times in book: Amri and co are on a quest to unite all the Gelfling clans against the Skeksis and first stop was Cera-Na where the Sifa sail. Things started off rocky when Maudra Ethri tried to sail the entire clan across the ocean rather than deal with all this resistance-ing but Onica managed to convince her with a well-timed staring into a fire, soothsayingly. Now, Team Naia is off to the Crystal Desert after a run in with Dousan Periss who introduced himself by trying to steal Tavra and escalated to charging their most precious possessions to take them in his sand skiff. He’s a rascal.

Chapter 14

The team sand sails into the desert, Periss does not ingratiate himself to them

Sailing on the river of sand was rougher than on the ocean.

The skiff itself was an oval body kept upright by two floats on either side, each balanced by several webbed fins roughly the size of a Gelfling’s wings. The rigid parts of the ship were all bone, light and hollow, with leather and woven fabric attached with hardened sinews. Black sand snakes raced alongside the skiff as it cut atop the sand river, all of them carried by the current and propelled by a strong wind that howled along the bottom of the ravine.

Still, Amri preferred the skiff to the ships on the sea. Though the sands were ever changing, they were still of the earth. Still rock and dirt and crystal, and he could just make out their whispers. Like a million voices, speaking all at once, resonating against the deep tones of the red cliffs.

Oo, sand sailing.

Oo, listening to the voices of rocks!

We’re off to a fun start. Although I don’t know if I knew that Amri could listen to rocks.

Onica comments that at the speed they’re going, they’ll cross the Claw Mountains and reach the desert in two days.

Periss ties off the sails as they’ll be going just forward for a while and decides its time to get social.

“You’ve made a good investment, so let’s make merry.” He gestured to his shaved head, covered in tattoos. “Since I’ll be your guide and protector as we make way into a dangerous landscape, I should know your names, eh? So I can shout them before you make any stupid decisions that will get us all killed.”

He’s the worst, I love him.

Naia introduces herself and Periss asks if she’s the leader.

And Amri realizes that he’s just been assuming that she is and nobody has ever said it out loud. Despite Onica and Tavra being older and Tavra being a princess, yes, Naia is the leader.

But they’re finally explicitly saying in book three what’s been obvious for a while. I call it Team Naia for a reason.

Periss recognizes the rest of the Team Naia from either the dream-stitched petals or by lurking around Cera-Na but he doesn’t know Amri.

“And what about you?”

“Amri.” He was really starting to hate that question. “The Mysterious.”

“I’ve never heard of Amri the Mysterious.”

“That says more about you than it does about me.”

HAH!

Excellent. Amazing.

Periss tries to get the team to admit that the spider with the Vapran accent who speaks like a princess is the missing All-Maudra daughter who disappeared in the Castle of the Crystal and has a bounty out for information on her location.

But nobody will admit to anything and Onica swiftly changes the topic to doing that bone reading for Periss. Except she doesn’t lend her bones to thieves so he’ll need to provide his own.

Which he does. Ones he stole from a Sifa soothsayer.

So Onica pours the bone fragments into a cup and shakes them up. She places the cup upside down on the deck of the skiff, covering the bones, and asks whether Periss wants to know about love, life, or death.

“I’m Dousan, sweetling. I don’t need to know about my death. Tell me about love.”

He’s such a smarm but I do enjoy him.

And without lifting the cup, Onica begins speaking of a yearning heart and a tree that’s been pulled out leaving a cavity even deeper than the tree ever grew where nothing Periss pours in fills the hole.

“Yet you try... Restless and unrelenting. You seek love, but cannot find it. You believe it is because you don’t deserve it. But the truth is, love is the only thing that can heal the wound. You are looking in the wrong place. Outside, when you should be looking within. You look to what you can take from the future, instead of mourning what you’ve forsaken in the past.”

Thank you, Onica, for telling us this guy has hidden depths.

“All that without even looking, eh?” Periss said, resting one elbow on his knee and his cheek on his fist. “Impressive. Can’t wait to hear what you can read off the bones themselves.”

Onica opened her eyes, gaze falling from the skies down to the Dousan in front of her. She put a hand on the cup.

“The bones say...”

She lifted the cup. The wind rushing along the deck blasted through, scattering the bones in a cloud of gray shards. Periss yelped and grabbed after them, but they were already lost to the wind and sands.

“... That you shouldn’t ask for bone readings on a moving sand skiff.”

Thank you, Onica, for being a hilarious individual.

I like Periss’ smarm but I love Onica screwing him by giving him exactly what he asked for.

Don’t sass a soothsayer. And don’t steal her girlfriend.

Periss admits that he deserved that and gets to telling the group about the geography when Onica asks what they’re in for.

There’s a big ol’ desert between the Claw Mountains and the northwestern border of the Dark Wood. Dunno if that makes sense in terms of climate because I’m bad with climate friendly maps. But thanks to mountain bays the desert pools in four ‘seas’ on the northern edge. The Crystal Sea is where they’re going because that’s where the Dousan are during the season of the storms which is this season right now.

Amri asks if the skiff will be able to weather all the storms between here and there.

“This ship is made from the bones of my ancestor’s Crystal Skimmer. It will outlive us all. It is we mortal folk who will need to prove ourselves.”

That’s fun.

Kylan, presumably sore from losing his cool firca, asks what’s going to stop Periss from just taking everything they have, ditching them in the desert, and sailing off. But Periss insists that Dousan are Gelfling of their word.

“Words are the only thing worth keeping in this world, or so says Maudra Seethi.” This statement sounded well rehearsed, as if he’d been forced to repeat it many times.

See, a philosophy like that seems like it would lean toward practicality and a certain amount of asceticism and not stealing shiny things from sailors.

I’m watching you, Periss.

But he insists he’ll uphold the bargain they made.

Naia is already doing bad in the dry air and might have to take up Periss on his offer to sell her waterskins “at a good rate.”

“If he’s wise, we’ll travel at night and rest during the day, once we reach the basin,” Tavra remarked. It was one of the first plans she’d had that Amri wholeheartedly liked, but he didn’t say so. He was just glad when Onica replied.

“And if he’s not wise, I will educate him.”

“Did you really read his bones through the cup?” Kylan asked.

The Far-Dreamer’s smile was mysterious and misleadingly demure.

“Oh, I read his bones,” she said. “Just not the ones in the cup.”

Onica is so good! It’s a huge shame she didn’t have more of a role in Age of Resistance! I’m thrilled she joined the party this book.

#dark crystal #the dark crystal #Tides of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Amri #Naia #Tavra #Onica #Kylan #Periss

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ask-the-good-creeps · 3 years

Note

I’m curious to how they would react to my character who is like a mini version of slenderman in a way yet if angered can be just as big and dangerous. Here is two pictures showing normal look vs their larger form. (Btw the guy is their proxy) you can choose whoever to respond to this!😊

//Notes about this character from the creator: “Anon tends to roam freely in forests but sometimes goes to watch people as it reminds them of their human childhood. They are only 18. Anon isn’t the kind to do anything bad but tries to avoid making a mass murder when they are feral and hungry, their proxy is actually their boyfriend but somehow managed to get a proxy side out of him. They mainly try to fit in as best as possible with people but as Anon is young and struggles with control it creates problems. When they meet others like them, pastas or creatures they try to make friends as they struggle with friendship. Other than that they are Normally rather friendly and a little shy but protective and dangerous if angered, hurt or if anyone tries to badly injure their proxy. Their normal height is 5’9 but in monster form it can range from 9’11 in a house to 15 foot outside. An interesting fact though, their proxy bf was actually suicidal but they saved him with friendship that slowly became love.”

------------------------

Pasta Reactions:

Slenderman: Initial reactions will be confusion and worry. He and the other two slenders should be the only entities like this in the mortal realm; he’d be confused on how this came to be and worried about what they plan to do. The new entity would likely be under close observation by himself, the other slenders, and/or the proxies if deemed appropriate until it was confirmed that no threat is present.

Trenderman: Like Slenderman, he’d be concerned...especially considering all that happened with Offenderman way back when. He would be wary of this newcomer and subconsciously be ready to strike should they turn out to be another rogue entity.

Splendorman: Like his brothers, Splendor would have some concerns. However, he’s also be curious and trusting as he normally is; he’s the slender that would be most likely to approach for a face-to-face conversation first, and he’d be the one who really sticks to the whole, ‘innocent until proven guilty’ mentality.

Masky: Oh my god, not another one. These words would be this proxy’s first thought on the matter. As someone who is already partially overwhelmed by the idea that three slender entities exist in the world, another one showing up - especially one that hasn’t yet been concretely determined ‘friend’ or ‘foe’ - would make him anxious...especially since the other slenders weren’t aware of their existence at first.

Hoodie: He’d be on high alert for a long while. After the whole mess with Offenderman in the past, he’s not happy with the idea of another slender entity. He’d be extremely cautious and would be in perfect agreement with his partner when Masky suggests keeping good distance and avoiding the new one.

Toby: If he catches sight of the newcomer before someone tells him to be aware of them, it’s likely he’ll end up debating with himself whether this is a hallucination or not. Part of him will say that if there’s a new slender, his boss would’ve said something so this can’t be real; and another part of him would say that normally when he’s hallucinating he doesn’t question whether what he’s seeing is real or not, so he must be lucid. He won’t interact unless it’s necessary and his first move would be to find Masky or Hoodie and talk to them about it to try and validate his experience as real or imaginary.

Kate: In all honesty, Kate comes off as rude and cold to just about everyone, whether she knows them well or not and regardless of how she views them. She won’t actively try to approach, but she won’t go out of her way to avoid/observe either. If she crosses paths them, she’s just gonna keep walking past. If they try to interact, she’s gonna be the same Kate everyone else sees and behave with her callous attitude. Social situations are not her forte, which is why her main mission type is all the stuff that involves slaughter and leaving no witnesses.

Jeff: Jeff is gonna keep his distance. He doesn’t regularly interact with anyone but BEN, Smile, and the Puppeteer (and occasionally Liu or Nurse Ann) anyway; he’s not the type of guy to go making new friends or poking his nose where he feels it doesn’t belong. If he sees something from the newbie that’s cause for concern, he may report it to Slenderman just to be sure nobody innocent is in danger.

Liu/Sully: Oh, heck no. Liu has made a deal with Zalgo in the past; Zalgo and the Slenderman may not be bitter enemies anymore, but he still has an instinctual reluctance to go anywhere near something that seems like a slender. This is one of the few things that Liu and Sully agree on - if they run into this guy by mistake, Liu is gonna let Sully handle it, and Sully (much like Kate) ain’t gonna play nice.

Jane: She’d defer to Eyeless Jack. Jane will be the first to admit that she is terrible at reading into other people and their intentions, so she would ask her trusted demon friend (who is a notoriously good judge of character) for his opinion on the new entity. She won’t be overtly rude or cruel if she runs into them, but she’ll be fairly untrusting until either Jack or her own observations of solid proof that they’re an okay individual lead her to loosen up a little around them.

Clockwork: She’s pretty much gonna be with Jane on this one. Slender entities are known to be powerful and intimidating and their motives are never completely clear at first. Unless she has solid evidence that they can be trusted or someone she already trusts decides to vouch for them, she’s not gonna get all buddy-buddy here.

Eyeless Jack: As stated, he’s known to be a good judge of character thanks to his demonic instincts. Also, since he is unable to see people as we do, he’s not taking his impressions of people from how they look; his sense of who someone is comes from their actions and emotional responses to everything. He’s also naturally introverted, though, as you would expect from a demonic doctor. At first meeting, Jack wouldn’t be on guard or untrusting like the others but he wouldn’t be super friendly, either. He’d kinda be neutral like he is with innocent strangers unless a friendship formed over time like it has with Jane, Clockwork, and Nathan.

Nathan the Nobody: Nathan naturally prefers to isolate himself. The only pastas he’s willing to visit and hang out with are Eyeless Jack and sometimes Jeff because those two helped save his life in the past; he’s started warming up to Jane and Clockwork because they’re usually there with Jack when Nathan shows up to the MedLab, but he’s not interested in conversing or spending time with anyone else. Long story short, he won’t interact without a damn good reason. If they cross paths, he’s just gonna ignore them and keep walking unless that option becomes impossible.

Laughing Jack: Our favorite monochrome clown admittedly doesn’t spend much time in the mortal realm, and when he’s here he’s not hanging out in the woods. The chances of him meeting the newcomer are slim, but he’s likely to hear about them from Candy Pop (because his jester friend seems to know everything about new creeps). If they ever did come across each other, it’s unlikely Jack would stay long unless the new slender managed to do something to really pique his attention.

Candy Pop: Perhaps the only one that would actively attempt to seek out and converse with the newcomer. Pop has no sense of shame or fear, so even if the new slender’s intentions aren’t known he’ll still let his curiosity guide him to interact with them in order to gain more information about who they are and possibly make a new connection to add to his network. If he determined that no threat was present and this person seems entertaining, he’d likely be willing to spread that conclusion to those he knows and possibly introduce them to pastas he’s closer to.

Candy Cane: Unless the newcomer gets in her way somehow, they aren’t likely to have an extended interaction. Candy Cane hangs out with the other Carny Pastas and is alright spending time with others who happen to be in the same area; however, she’s not a social butterfly like her brother and spends most of her free time home at the Candy Circus or with Jack and company at the clown’s carnival. If they run into each other, it’s likely while she’s on her way to do something so she’ll give a quick, ‘yeah, hi, how are you, gotta run, bye’ and not pay anymore mind to it unless it seems to post some type of problem for her.

Jason the Toymaker: Just as Jane would turn to Eyeless Jack for insights into the new person, Jason would ask the Puppeteer for his opinion before doing anything. He’d be wary of letting the newcomer anywhere close to the children he works with until he had a confirmation that this entity wouldn’t be a threat to them.

The Puppeteer: Like Eyeless Jack, the Puppeteer is an excellent judge of character thanks to his natural power of empathy. He’s also not worried about a potential threat unless he sees proof that he should be worried; he’d be willing to have an extended interaction, so long as he had the time for it between visits with those he’s counseling. The Puppeteer is a naturally calm and friendly entity, so the interaction would go well assuming the newcomer also remained calm and friendly.

Helen: Not unfriendly or cold, but naturally distant and uninterested in things like this unless there’s direct consequences in his or Dina’s life as a result. Helen will be cordial and fairly quiet around the newcomer as he is with most people, but it’s unlikely he’ll think of them as friend material because he knows Dina doesn’t like new people and she’s with him most of the time.

Dina: As stated, she doesn’t like new people. She seem rude or irritated if she runs into the new slender, or she may just pretend they aren’t there - it depends where she’s at with her mood and how the situation plays out. Repeated attempts to interact with her (regardless of whether or not there are positive intentions behind the attempts) will make her angry and may even provoke her to attack. When she says, ‘leave me alone’, it’s in everyone’s best interests to do so.

Kagekao: Kagekao would be curious more than anything. He wouldn’t be as carefree as Candy Pop and attempt to engage in conversation immediately, but he would stalk them for a while and likely pull a couple harmless pranks to gauge their reaction. If they get angry over the minor inconveniences he causes, he probably won’t stick around long.

Nurse Ann: She doesn’t run into other pastas much unless they are specifically trying to seek her out. If she crosses paths with them, she’ll be pretty neutral about it as she is with most. If she doesn’t have business with you, she doesn’t see a reason to stick around - she won’t be rude or dismissive, but she won’t be that talkative or social, either.

Hobo Heart: He gone fly away. Hobo Heart is a complete loner, totally antisocial in all circumstances. He’s just gonna go somewhere else if he comes across this guy, or anyone, really.

BEN: He’d start looking for information, first and foremost. He likes to be prepared to interact with new entities and learns all he can about them before making contact of any sort. If the Internet yields no information he can use, his next step is to consult Candy Pop due to the fact that the jester has an uncanny ability to uncover uncommon knowledge (and also because BEN knows the Pop would likely have been the first to interact with them).

Sally: She’s gonna stay away. Unless you’re a sick p*dophile that she needs to dispose of or someone that’s been introduced to her by a trusted friend (such as Masky) she automatically assumes you’re a potential threat...especially if you appear to have power like a Slender would wield.

Lacy: Keeps to herself anyway. I doubt there’d be much interaction here.

Lazari: Like the Slenders and proxies, she’d be concerned about a new Slender entity thanks to the Offenderman issues that occurred in the past (way to ruin it for everybody, Offender - ya goddamn serial r*pist). She’d observe and start trying to get a lock on how powerful this entity is, in hopes that she could eat them if they ever showed intentions of causing problems.

I think that’s all the pastas on here so far. Keep in mind, Slender entities are known by the creeps as being the strongest among them...a new entity of that caliber that nobody knows anything about isn’t likely to immediately be seen as an ally by many of the pastas. They’ll be regarded as a potential threat until proven otherwise (again, mostly thanks to the experience they’ve all had with the rogue slender years ago). //

#ask the good creeps #ask creepypasta #creepypasta #all the pastas #submission #long post

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witchcraftingboop · 4 years

Text

Further Insight on Briar's Recent Discourse & Prim's Apparent Grooming of Younger, Newer Witches

It was suggested to me that instead of making one long post (which I was genuinely sorry for creating in the moment as well), that I should offer the second half in a separate one so that it is easier to share and harder to simply ignore as a wall of text.

Here is the link to the first half of the current JBird and Briar discourse floating around. I highly encourage everyone involved in the Witchblr community to review both posts and not just this final addition.

Regarding Prim stirring the pot, I actually do have proof of that on my page somewhere if you wouldn't mind my sending it to you? The person I reblogged it from, Mahi, also received death threats from Prim when they were only 16 and Prim was 20 (I can't ask him to share that though because Prim has since used her following to drive him off of Tumblr and he's still fairly [and justifiably] sensitive about it.)

Regarding Briar's statements more specifically though, I can see where the confusion is coming from. After the "in France" part, she's just defining a relevant term (hence the use of "irrelevant details) and then giving an explanation of how she came to be so knowledgeable about that term/concept. I wouldn't say she's calling Prim's activism an "irrelevant detail," but pointing out how Prim uses it as a shield against backlash whenever another blog (not just tradcrafters) calls out her platform. I don't expect you to fully understand or see what I mean when I say that, of course. Because you are still new, and these are habits I've observed of hers from nearly a year of following their interactions. I would, however, like to point out that Briar doesn't say anything racist about Prim and does not once bring up her race. In fact, I think if you read her entire post and not just point 3 as Prim has it cropped out in all of her mentions of it, you would see more fully the depth and amount of frustration Briar is trying to express. Similarly, Briar never threatened to dox Prim. She has, in fact, repeatedly tried to point out that Prim should be protecting her online information and be more aware of how to stop others from finding out about her private life/situation. These statements, however, have since been warped by Prim and her followers to come off as a threat on her life. Briar's statements above aren't a threat of doxxing. She's never once posted Prim's personal information or told others to find it or use it in any way. She has, however, searched for Taglocks on Prim, something witches especially are known to look for. In that search she found more than she was even looking for, despite trying to tell Prim repeatedly to stop being so open online with the information she posts about herself. Doxxing though is not racist. It is something used by them, sure, but it is not inherently racist.

Additionally, Prim has raised money, sure, but I still have not seen any actual receipts as to her *actually* donating it to any public or private organizations. This, for me, is highly suspect. In reality, we still have no idea where that money is. Whereas with Briar, she took no money in for a couple days on her readings and instead merely asked that those requesting a reading first submit proof of donation to an organization linked in the post. She raised substantial money for the BLM movement, but no one seems to want to bring that up in all of their "she's a racist" discourse. Also, the observation that someone is misleading or gaslighting their following is not racist. Just because she said Prim was recently using her BLM reblogs & promotions to do it *this time* still does not make it racist. Questionable wording is just something the reader disagrees with, in my opinion, and should be addressed as such.

I'm not going to lie, I do feel a little frustrated at this point. I was really hoping to come to you and see that you had concrete proof to offer that Briar is a racist. I do understand that you have your own reasons for feeding into the assumptions and twisted outlooks already taken on Briar's words, but I don't have enough energy in me to fully swallow my tongue on this one. I really do hope that you at least consider what I've said here. I'm not sure what I can say at this point because all of the information I've read from you thus far has been purely conjecture or assumptions or just "not feeling right" about the wordings on a single post. A racist, from my perspective, is not something I would ever feel comfortable calling someone off of this lack of evidence.

I understand it is hard to separate preconceived notions from your mind when reading through the words of others, but I really do miss when you were more open to the words of others. If I could ask one thing of you, it'd be to please try to read Briar's post again but from the perspective of seeing it how it was meant to be: a witch who has been on the butt end of Prim's harassment for going on three years now. She is tired of the wild accusations and constantly having to defend herself, and even when she supplied her proof a couple years ago, no one wanted to hear her. She has, largely, given up on being heard, and now screams into what feels like a void when attacked.

Proof of Prim stirring the pot that I offered: An example of Prim actively seeking out the community and trying to stir the pot with an already dealt with situation that had passed over a year ago.

A direct source that I offered as further proof of what has occurred already: This is one from the account mentioned before who was directly involved with the previous discord server where the Trio incident took place a couple years back.

[A Reply.] I think, to be fair, I saw your comments on her previous posts through your main, and with how much aggression you packed into those messages, I don't necessarily blame her for deciding not to engage with your private messages. As I've said, she's very used to people attacking her like that, and in her mind, unfortunately, you've probably been added to the list of aggressive people ready to fling the blame at her rather than look at the situation as a whole. I do apologize for the way her post may have made you feel, but I think it's also important to remember the potentially aggressive things you left on her page (I'm not saying you meant to come off that way, but even I couldn't help but read that way). Also, regarding the ask, it's no small secret that the occultists of the tradcraft group are skilled and well-versed in hexes and curses. When reading her posts about how she may respond to further antagonism on Prim's part, I see a fully realized occultist wielding their most well kept and trained weapon: baneful magic. I'm sure Prim herself also understands that the "threat on her life" she's saying she's so afraid of, isn't a physical threat, but a metaphysical one. She has repeatedly and continually tried to drag these people through the mud, and now that they're refusing to just sit back and be canceled, she's afraid. She knows how strong their magic is, and they aren't shy about it 🤷‍♀️

[A Reply.] No, I completely understand where you're coming from. I, personally, have seen your willingness to talk things through, despite how aggressive you can come off at times in the things you say, so I think that's why I was genuinely so surprised to see your comments on some of her posts. But I do think her response and refusal to further directly engage with you is warranted and her right. Unfortunately, it is hard to tell who is genuinely open to talking and who is just trying to bait and add to the problem. And with how aggressive your comments were, 8 honestly think she most likely was responding from a place of "oh look another young Prim follower here to bait and berate me." I don't think she looks down on you for your age, but her views are likely a reflection of the fact that a lot of 18yos follow Prim and have openly harassed her without even asking for her input on the matter.

At this point, I would like to talk about the second half of the title of this particular post. Grooming. This is a very serious allegation against Prim that I have not spoken on previously because I had no proof that it was happening. With this person's permission, I would like to share how exactly they wound up fighting Prim's battles for her.

I will note: I am highly disgusted by what follows.

[A Reply.] Oh no! You cannot fault yourself for this! Prim is a known manipulator, and the fact that she was able to make you somehow think this is part of your being "gullible and naive" is just testament to the fact that she's gotten wayyy too good at what she does. This is in no way your fault or because of some fault within you. Practiced manipulators are cunning and dangerous even to the best of us. It was unfortunate that she chose you, but her twisting you around is in no way a bad reflection on you as a person!

I've chosen to include my reply to this person rather than our continued discussion because of how personal and involved our conversation turned. I've included it to show, as well, that grooming others to fight your battles is (though this should go without saying) NEVER OKAY. Prim has shown her true colors, in my opinion, and while I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt time and time again, I simply cannot permit myself to ignore the harm and damage she's inflicted on not only the tradcraft community, but also this innocent group of friends. A group who that has hitherto dedicated their time to sussing out predators, terfs, nazis, and racists. A group that should never have had to deal with being gaslit and manipulated by a well-known and respected blogger on this platform.

I cannot reiterate enough how sorry and deeply shocked I am at the information this person has brought to my attention. I am still stunned by Prim's activities and unable to fathom how many other potential individuals are out there being groomed to support and fight for her cause. I am sorry to the Witchblr community as a whole. I feel as if I have sat by and watched as Witchblr has been manipulated and am therefore complacent in the damage and needless hurt that has been allowed to spread throughout our community. I am just so very, very sorry.

I will be taking a couple days off of Tumblr because of this, as I feel as if I need space and time to think, but my inbox is always open and I am always available to speak with others on my return.

#witchblr #witch community #witchblr discourse #discourse #nightshadeandroses #grooming tw #grooming in the witch community #tradcraft #traditional witchcraft #beginner witch #novice witch #baby witch #witch predator #long post #gabrielle #chthoniaa

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corey-067 · 4 years

Note

Micro-story prompts: undone

Zyten'ykala'miurani didn't belong here. He felt the mercenaries' stares on him as he moved through the Mandalorian enclave, assessing him as though he was meat to go to market. He stared right back, burning red eyes meeting theirs, be they on show, or hidden by their surprisingly expressive - if featureless - visors.

The Chiss could respect the Mandalorians, even if they were beneath him. Many of them had proven capable warriors and more than the image of mercenary thugs that the galaxy saw. One such individual was the reason for his foray into this prominently located den of iniquity. He had been an ally to his people in the past, and he'd saved Nyka's life personally on Hoth, many years ago.

The Chiss had never seen him in person without his armor on, and he found himself somewhat shocked by just how scarred the Mandalorian's torso was. He was at least a little less surprised to see him taking down his fully armored kin without his own armor on. That fact he'd survived this much of the war against Zakuul when many Mandalorians hadn't was a testament to his skill. A slight smirk curved his lips as he continued forward, only to find his path barred by two others.

"I must speak with him," the Chiss told them.

"Who's the Chiss, Koli'arr?" The Mandalorian he'd been fighting grunted. "Friend of yours?"

Koli'arr? He's using an alias here? Nyka found the idea unusual for a Mandalorian, but he wasn't about to call it out when surrounded by his kind.

"I believe we've met before," Corey nodded. "A little less snowy today."

"At least the threats there were more apparent." The Chiss returned, composing himself. "I need your help, clan leader."

"You're not wrong there.” The Mandalorian chuckled softly. “Plenty of people come to me, asking for help. My people bleed and die, and continue to bleed and die when the Zaks hit us just as hard as anyone else. Harder, in fact, because we have the gett'se to fight back. Even the Chiss, so proud, bowed down before them."

"To save our people. We are nothing if not survivors. We will find our moment, I assure you." The Chiss' words were ice cold. "Aristocra Saganu told me to find someone I could trust. If that is not you, I shall gladly seek another."

Corey remembered Saganu, a being he generally held in high esteem, both as a tactician and a leader. His interest was piqued, but he wasn't about to back down so easily. "Prove you're worth helping."

Eyeing the two Mandalorians blocking Nyka's path, Corey nodded in their direction. "Calee, Nochi."

The one he'd identified as Nochi dove in quickly, his torso weaving as he moved, to draw Nyka's eye. Calee, on the other hand, stayed back. His eyes took in her hair, half of it colored black, the other blonde. She grinned at him, and as Nochi's fist lashed out towards the Chiss, she leaped into the fray. This type of fighting was not Nyka's forte, but their powerful attacks aimed to scare him away or drive him back. Nyka did neither; instead, he stepped forward, twisting so that Calee would throw herself past him if she didn't change course. Predictably, she did so, and as Nochi's fist cut through the air behind his head, the Chiss sidestepped, melting between them as he turned to place one gentle palm into Calee's back, amplifying her momentum. She and Nochi tangled up, and Nyka walked calmly up the ramp to where Corey stood.

"I'm patient, but I don't have time for games. None of us do." The Chiss sounded calm, but Corey could hear the strain in the tone.

"Consider it a character assessment." Corey shook his head. The Mandalorian pressed a button on his belt, which seemed to create slight distortions in Nyka's vision. A privacy screen?

"Allow me to provide a counter," He spoke softly, a dangerous lilt in his tone. He was quiet enough that Corey had to focus to hear his words. "I will do whatever it takes to see my people safe. As I always have been, I am within Imperial borders to ensure the Ascendency's continued security against whatever threat arises." He glowered, allowing the mask of control he typically displayed to abate for a moment.

"I have no loyalty to the Empire, but I will serve it to the best of my abilities, as long as my superiors see fit to order me to do so. Given our treaty with Zakuul, we cannot be seen to be intervening, but there is a threat out there that must be dispatched." He paused for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. "Resistance Information which should never have seen the light of day has fallen into enemy hands. While I work out how, I need you to hunt down the courier, and erase any trace of its existence. You will be compensated accordingly."

Corey nodded, holding out his hand to seal the deal. He was surprised when Nyka clasped his wrist, having seen numerous Mandalorians do so during his time with the Empire. “I’m not thrilled about the prospect, but it needs to be done. I’ll take it on myself.”

"We cannot allow all we've worked so hard to build, to come undone." He lowered his voice even further, despite the privacy screen. "And I'm sure that your friends in the resistance would prefer that they remain anonymous in the eyes of their enemies."

#Corey writes #Zyten'ykala'miurani #corey black #Zakuul war shenanigans #swtor

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imagineddworld · 4 years

Text

Missing girl (Part 1)

pairing: Scott McCall x reader

summary: Derek and Chris were on a mission in Mexico and seek help of the pack. What the pack didn’t know was that there was also a secret helper already in Mexico hunting every possible threat. Which made a certain person be amazed by her skills.

Word count: 3,8 k (3800) (sorry got a bit lengthy, so I split it into two parts)

You had heard the news 3 months ago. A little girl was wandering alone in the dark depths of Mexico. Her family was brutally murdered, with only her as survivor. She was extremely scared and traumatized, but she was very good at hiding. Which you were grateful for, but you would like to find her any time soon. Surely before any threat would reach her. Every morning you had the same routine; freshening up in the near by river, preparing your knives and other weapons, hiding some of them in your clothes and shoes, but others were open for the predators to see. To finish it all up, you smeared some dust and mud over you, so your sent would be hidden. This making you less noticeable and traceable for any possible threat.

Daily you spent long nights mapping out new paths, researching for any helpful information and analyzing every little detail for new clues. In the past 3 months you had gotten only 2 hours of sleep a day, or less. You were exhausted, but close to finding her. You knew it in your guts. Even if you weren’t so close, your instincts would never let you quit. You were determined to find her. Being the daughter of Ares, the god of war, made your strong headedness reach extreme levels. You had a good amount of rage and anger running through your body. That didn’t show until someone pushed one of your buttons, in the wrong way or on the wrong time. But something you were surly gifted with were your fighting skills and strategically thinking. You had great hand combat techniques, could easily work with any weapon given to you and to top it all of you always mapped out the best strategical plans to attack a certain threat.

While your stay in Mexico, you had met up with an old friend ,Chris Argent and his companion Derek Hale. Hale was an intimidating looking man with a sour character, but you managed to look through this and find his soft spots. You had met Chris when both of you were hunting the same beast, a rough supernatural creature that killed innocent people. You weren’t necessary going to kill it, but Chris insisted on it. He was amazed by your hunting and fighting skills and asked you from time to time to help him on a hunt. You only did so, when you thought it was rightful to do. You never hunted or killed an innocent supernatural creature, just for the fact that they were supernatural. That would go against your believes. As you were in some way connected to this world, it would be shamefully wrong to kill an innocent.

Today you had planned to meet them, as you could work together on your final plan. Derek, Chris and the pack were already at the meeting place, while you were finishing up your last route. What the two men only forgot to mention, was the packs arrival. You had no clue who they were and why there were so many of them. As you rounded the corner, you were met with the sight of an old jeep and a motorcycle parked next to it. This making your heart race, seen that the killers of the little girl’s family were right on your heels. When you saw the crowd standing around Derek and Chris, you couldn’t help but let your instincts kick in. You took a small knife out of your combat boot, and threw it in a harsh motion towards a tan skinned boy with dark hair. He stood the closed to Derek. The knife just passed his face, without actually making a cut. This was a warning, if he pushed your concerns further you wouldn’t be as nice. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”, Derek screamed, as you came in their view, “You psychopath”. “Nice way of greeting, Hale”, you shot back sarcastically. You had an uneasy feeling in your guts. You couldn’t help but look sternly at the group, with your machete held tightly in your hand. Even if they were all shocked and confused, you couldn’t help the anger from flooding your body.

You felt a soft hand being placed on your shoulder. You tensed a little, but when you were greeted with Chris’ face, a little smile grew on your own. “Let me introduce you to the pack”, he started off, guiding you through all their names. You nodded lightly at each of them as a greeting. The uneasy feeling didn’t seem to fade. “Greetings”, you said sternly, not knowing how else to show them you were in lead, “Before I explain the plan, we need to go to a place less noticeable”. You looked onto the horizon, focusing on your senses. The wind blew through your hair and the sun burned into your exposed skin, who had gained a warm glow over the months. You carefully listened for any sign of intruders. Everywhere sat possible threats hidden. You rarely found a safe space without any listening ears or staring eyes.

When you returned your focus back on the group, you caught a set of warm brown eyes staring back in awe at you. What was weird, seemingly your current state. Your hair sat in a ponytail with loose strands of hair dancing in the wind, and your face and clothes covered in mud and dirt. You shook the flustered, but yet confused feeling off of you. “But before we go there, you all need to cover yourselves in dirt and mud”, this statement caused a lot of disagreement before you even could explain your reasoning. “Cover yourself in dirt”, you said more sternly, while tightening your grip on your machete and swung it dangerously close to the group. Without further question they followed what you said, making you smile faintly. “This way you are less noticeable and traceable for possible threats”, you finished off your small speech.

Once you reached the hidden cave, you made sure no one was following or listening in. “Listen up good. We have no time to spare. The hunters of the little girl’s family are on our heels. We need to reach her first and bring her into safety. This might require hurting or killing the enemy. Anyone who is willing to go against my plan, will receive the same punishment”. You hated being stern and rude, but this was serious business. The life of this precious girl was at stake. The least you needed now, were people fooling around. You had promised the local residents to keep them safe. If one of them ruined this mission, they also ruined the locals trust in you.

After explaining very clearly what your plan was, you split the group in little duo’s with the help of Derek and Chris, because they knew their individual qualities better than you. You gave each group the necessary maps to follow their given route to the hiding place of the girl. You supplied them of weapons and a walky- talky if things went wrong. To finish off you painted on each person’s left cheek a specific symbol of peace. This symbol was used among the locals. A symbol language only they understood. This showed them your respect for their kind and signed them you were not there to harm them in any way.

As you needed to paint on Scott’s cheek, he needed to crouch down a bit what caused him to hold onto your waist to steady himself. You felt his warm breathe softly hitting your face. The way of how his big hand held onto your waist, mixed with his soft breath fanning your skin made you feel oddly warm inside. As you weren’t already pink in the face from the sun, he would have noticed your flusteredness more easily. Something about this boy, had you drawn towards him. Maybe it was his sweet appearance and leader like aura. Whatever it was, wasn’t important now. Unfortunately, you got paired up with him. It had something to do with you both being leader figures. But this made you weaken up a bit. What hopefully wasn’t going to end in a disaster.

The walk started awkward. He just simply walked behind you, while you led the way. Both of you were quiet, mostly because that way you were less noticeable. But you could sense Scott wanted to ask you some questions. Which was somewhat logical, seemingly both of you were strangers to one another. Only the situation was not suitable. You had heard him breathe in deeply a couple of times, as a manner to build some confidence to speak up. But no words came out. You stopped in your track and turned around to face Scott, this action nearly causing him to walk into you. Both your bodies stood only a few inches apart. “I know how annoying it is not to get to know each other first. But I promise you, we can talk as much as you like after we save the girl”, you said sweetly. Something he wasn’t used to. He smiled to the ground at first, feeling like he had been caught, but your last sentence made him smile lovingly at you. “Sounds great”.

The closer you got to the hiding spot, the more narrow your pathway became. The wind blew more heavy, elevating some dust in the air, what made you sight harder to see. Some dark clouds covered the sun, which spread a huge shadow over your pathway. Suddenly you felt tense. The same uneasy feeling filled your stomach again. But before you could look further into it, Scott had pulled you closely towards his strong body. A protective arm was wrapped around your waist, as his eyes softly glow their unusual red colour. A soft growl rumbled through his chest, which sent vibrations through your body. As an instinct you grabbed onto your machete. Unlike Scott, you hadn’t any super hearing. Only your amazing fighting skills. Two blood lusting men came into your sight. They wore a devilish smirk on their faces. You pushed yourself off Scott’s body, swinging your machete towards the guys while grabbing a smaller knife from its hiding spot. Skillfully you swung the knives around, hitting the men in all the right places. With a stump of your foot in their chests, they fell over the edge. Scott seemed frozen in a fazed state. Your shirt had gotten covered in blood. Not only the men’s but yours too. One of them had been able to hit you with some sharp unknown object. But luckily nothing too drastic. “Come on”, you whispered yelled at Scott, while grabbing onto his hand. Both of you started to sprint softly as a few arrows flew over your heads. Without watching you threw your smallest knives in their direction. A small feeling of proudness overflowing you, as you heard a few grunts before the arrows stopped completely.

You stopped abruptly next to a with plant covered patch of the stone mountain you had climbed. You struggled to pull away the leaves, but to your expectance you were greeted with a small gap. You wormed your small figure through it easily, while Scott had serious trouble with trying to fit through. You nearly thought it was impossible, when you eventually felt him stumble over your crouched down body. “Sorry”, he muttered barely inaudible. The room you had entered was pitch black. Luckily you came prepared for any situation that could occur. You rumbled a bit through your backpack when you eventually felt the familiar cold metal of your flashlight. Everyone eyes needed to adjust, but you were soon greeted with the figure of a small, fragile girl around the age of 7. She was curled up into a corner. She looked extremely petrified. “We come in peace”, Scott spoke softly, “We want to bring you to safety”. But his words failed to calm her down. She showed signs of understanding, only those seemed to frighten her more.

Your brain caught up soon enough. Her family’s killers must have spoken English. She was in constant fear of hearing their accents again. Even if our faces were different, she didn’t want to risk anything. I heard her whimper softly, as she tried to disappear into the rocky wall that worked as her only barrier. I held up my hand into Scott’s direction, signaling him to shut up. I tried reassuring her in her native language, Spanish.

--- I am sorry for writing the up coming sentences in English, but I sadly enough can’t speak Spanish. I also didn’t want to seem rude by translating these sentences in Spanish, for them not to make any sense. ---

“We are extremely sorry to frighten you, darling, but we came to bring you to safety. We will make sure those monsters won’t hurt you ever again. We won’t harm you in any way”, you said softly, while very slowly making your way towards the girl. She was tensing up, but didn’t crawl away. “We will fight off anyone who will put you in any possible harm. But we won’t force you out. We will wait until you are ready. Your safety is all we care about, so take your time”. You kept a decent distance between the girl and you. In this way she could get used to your presence without feeling overwhelmed and wouldn’t be caught up in intense fear. You scrambled through your backpack once again, this time searching for the spare clothes you had packed for her. Everyone on the enemy’s side had been given an image of her with specific clothes and looks. To bring her back more safely to the cars, you needed to disguise her. This way the killers won’t recognize her as fast.

As you softly placed the clothes in front of her, you explained your reasoning to her. You also added some information, telling her your companion Scott would inform the others of your team that you had found her sound and safe. That they will now guard the paths for you, in case any possible danger occurred. As you finished speaking, she softly nodded her head. You gave her a loving smile, “Thank you for your understanding”. You faced Scott and told him the exact same thing. It took him some time again, to enter the small gap. But you didn’t miss the small smile on the little girl’s face. If you were honest, the sight of him struggle to get through was indeed somewhat amusing. Even if she was frightened to her core, she could tell you didn’t came to harm her. You backed away a bit and slowly turned sideways to give her some more privacy. “Give me a soft tap, or trow a small rock at me to signal me you are ready to go”.

It took the girl 10 minutes, or longer to eventually go to you to very faintly touch your hand that was placed onto the cold ground. “Are you a 100 % sure you are ready? You don’t need to feel obligated”, she nodded her head again, but this time more heavily. When you stood up she softly grabbed your hand, what warmed your heart. You tapped Scott on the back, to announce him the both of you were ready to come out. He had been guarding the gap, so anyone else would first need to face him before they could enter. “Hi”, he softly smiled at the both of you, totally adoring the sight in front of him. The girl dressed in a beige sweater, that fitted as a baggy dress, held tightly onto your hand. Her hood was on, but you still could see her eyes being filled with fear. She constantly looked around her, slowly walking closer, nearly colliding with your body. You felt so bad for the poor girl, how long did she had to hide into that small cave?

--- --- --- ---

The walk back was silent again. The only times one of you spoke, was to inform the rest, you were getting closer to the cars. Or to reassure the little girl no one would harm her if she was with us. Once you saw the others in the far distance, you told Scott to keep walking. You stayed behind with the girl. She only just had been getting used to Scott and your presence. You didn’t want to frighten her even more by drag her into the crowd of people. You crouched down, so you could be at eye level with her. “The people you see over there are my friends”, you said while pointing towards the group. Even if that wasn’t specifically true, they had gained your trust a bit. “We all teamed up to find you and bring you to safety. They all guarded our pathway so we could walk safely. They might seem intimidating, but I can reassure you they are the sweetest. We will need to go to them, if we want to get you out of this dangerous place. But of course only if you feel ready to do so. We can wait here if you want till you feel like meeting them.” She nodded softly, unsure if she needed to speak or not. First she decided against it, but a good 20 minutes later, she eventually did. “Okay”, she said with her small voice. It sounded way too innocent. You just wanted to hug her. She didn’t deserve to go through this, but the deeds have been done. The only thing you could do now, was make sure she was in safe hands.

You just sat on a few big rock waiting patiently till she was comfortable enough to go closer. To your surprise she had sat herself very close to you, nearly onto your lap even. “Thank you”, she suddenly said, taking me a bit off guard. “You don’t need to thank me. It was the only right thing to do. You never deserved to experience such a trauma. It’s the only thing I can do. To make sure you will live a safe life further on”, you answered back in Spanish. Seemingly it was the language she preferred right now. What was totally logical. But her speaking to you, wasn’t the most surprising. What did was her sudden affection. Right after you had spoken, she gave you a tight hug. At first you were too fazed to reacted, but soon returned the gesture and even softly placed a kiss on top of her head. You knew she wouldn’t exactly feel it, due to the fabric covering it, but it made your point clear. You were going to protect her at all cost.

“Finally”, Stiles sight as the two of you slowly joined the group. The little girl hid behind your legs, holding tightly onto them. “We don’t want to force her, do we?”, you snapped back, “She has been traumatized very seriously. The least we want to do is, push her more into that frightened state. As long she isn’t ready, we aren’t either”. You shot the guy your most intimidating death glare. He was slowly pushing your buttons, but his jumpy reaction made you loosen up a bit. He was just an anxious, hyperactive guy. Waiting patiently in this dangerous place, probably made him go a little mad in the head. “I’m proud of you”, Chris said, while keeping a respectful distance. He waved kindly towards the girl, who’s name was still unknown; but she hid even more behind your legs. Currently, you were here only save place. This was clear to everyone. With that in mind, you discussed who was going to share which car. “I would offer you a place on my motorcycle, but it is best we keep her close by your side”, Scott said softly while leaning a bit into you. Probably hoping no one else heard his weak flirting attempt. “I will keep that in mind”, you replied playfully, “Maybe I will use this offer once she is safe”. You ended off your comment with a wink and cheeky grin.

You were sat in the back of Stiles old jeep, with the girl fast asleep onto your lap. She must have been exhausted from the constant fear. From time to time you felt her body jolt up a bit, but you reassured her she was finally safe. The others were fast asleep too. Only Stiles and you were the ones awake. You enjoyed the soft music and had a small conversation from now and then. You got to know his extreme intelligent mind and soft, caring soul. He gained your trust completely when you heard him talk so fondly of his loved ones. He would go to extremes to safe them or keep them safe. This made you smile, you could feel his pure loved feelings towards them.

--- --- --- ---

Once you reached Scott house, you already saw his motorcycle parked there. His strong figure standing not too far away. “Thank you for the lovely ride, Stiles”. He smiled kindly at you with tired eyes. You carried the girl out of the car, holding her carefully into your arms. She had drifted off into a peaceful sleep, and you wanted to keep her that way. You slowly made your way over to Scott, who already stood closer to you with a loving smile covering his face. “Hi”, he said in a soft raspy voice, due to his tiredness from the long ride. Your heart couldn’t help, but make a little jump of adoration. Even in the dim light of the street lamps, he still made your senses go nuts by just his charms and loving features. “Are you sure your mom won’t mind?”, you asked nervously. You hated to be a bother to anyone. You always had been on your own, traveling around, doing your own things. It had been a long time since you had spent a night into someone else’s home. “A hundred percent. She will adore you”, this comment made you blush a bit. “But you might want to change into this”, he continued to say as he took off his sweater way too easily. The shirt he wore underneath clinging to his toned body. If you weren’t red in the face already, you surely were now. “Uhm, No .. no. You.. you don’t have to. I might.. might have some spare shirt in my .. my backpack”, you stated awkwardly, hating the way you stumbled clumsily over your own words. “No, I insist”. You looked him in the eyes to make sure he was serious, which he indeed was. Why wouldn’t he be? It was just a simple shirt to cover up yours, which was covered in dried blood stains.

--To be continued--

#scott #scott mccall #scott mccall imagine #fluffy #fluff imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teenwolf imagine #derek hale #scott mccall x reader #chris argent

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useless-slytherclaw · 4 years

Link

Chapter 6: The Order of the Phoenix

TW: character experiencing PTSD and flashbacks

Iset and Regulus were drinking tea in the dining room when Sirius and Remus arrived. Sirius watched his brother as he moved across the room to take a seat near him. The room was huge and the table could easily seat twenty people. Kreacher had put out a tablecloth and a Slytherin green table runner. The whole thing made Sirius think of too many meals filled with the uncomfortable silence of four people eating in such a large room.

Sirius still wasn’t completely sure why this girl was here. He remembered that she had been in his year at Hogwarts, in Slytherin of course. He couldn’t remember her name though, something long and foreign. A memory nudged at him, from one of his last summers in Grimmauld Place.

“Mother,” Regulus said. “Iset Senusret has invited me to visit her family in Egypt. Her uncle is willing to take us to study curses on Egyptian tombs.”

Walburga Black studied her youngest son over her teacup.

“Senusret? I don’t recognize that name.”

“It’s a very old Egyptian family,” Regulus looks bored, but Sirius is sitting next to him and can see that he’s gripping the letter in his hand too tightly for it to be casual. “Her father is the ambassador, Father must know him.”

“Orion?”

“Yes, Walburga?” Orion Black looks up from The Daily Prophet.

“Senusret?” Walburga prompts, looking annoyed.

“The Egyptian ambassador? Very old wizarding family, from what I understand. Man has good politics.”

Walburga taps her chin with one manicured finger. Regulus cuts in before she speaks. “Miss Senusret has provided a translated and abridged family tree.”

Regulus reads from the letter.

“Regulus, I have spoken to my father as to the status of your family. However, he is very concerned about the sort of company his daughters keep. As your family records are accessible, he was able to assure himself as to your blood status. I am sure your parents, as well-bred individuals, must share similar concerns for their children, so I have enclosed an abridged and translated copy of my genealogy. The full records are on file in the Wizarding Library of Cairo. It is abridged in two ways: one, it includes only the direct line and two, it is cut off at fifty generations.”

Walburga raised an eyebrow at that. Did she look impressed? Sirius shook his head. Walburga was never impressed. He looked closely at Regulus, who took out a small scroll and passed it to his mother. When his mother unrolled it, it became longer and longer. He saw Regulus mouth the word “brilliant” as his parents studied the scroll. Sirius snorted.

So this was that girl. A girl who sent his brother her genealogy. He’d managed to get Regulus to admit that he fancied the girl, but never more than that. He’d never seen the two of them so much as holding hands. Yet, she had been standing with Regulus in the bloody afterlife.

Sirius plunked himself down in a chair and Remus sat beside him. Sirius couldn’t help but notice that it felt very us vs. them. Not that it felt hostile, but it felt like the two groups of people who moved in different worlds. Sirius and Remus looked old sitting across from these two people, and it was worse than when he was around Harry and Harry’s friends because Regulus had always been just a year younger than him. His youthfulness made Sirius feel ancient, and he wasn’t even 40 yet. Remus and Sirius also seemed… shabby. It wasn’t just their clothes; it was the way the Iset and Regulus sat, the way they held themselves, the expressions on their faces. Regulus looked every inch the Black heir that his parents had wanted him to be, and Sirius hated it.

“Mr. Lupin,” Regulus said when neither Sirius or Remus spoke. “Would you mind telling us when exactly it is and perhaps what’s going on. Sirius hasn’t said anything.”

“I haven’t had time to say anything,” Sirius pointed out.

“Sure,” Remus picked up the cup of tea that a muttering Kreacher had poured for him. “Its July 1996.” Both Iset and Regulus blinked, their masks cracking for a second.

“Let me think. You know that the war ended and Voldemort vanished?” The pair nodded.

“Well, he’s back. He came back just over a year ago.” Regulus flinched, his whole body jerked. Iset gave him a worried look.

Sirius spoke before Remus could continue, “What side are you on?”

“Sirius!”

“He was a Death Eater, Remus. If he’s going to go running back to Voldemort, we don’t need to tell him anything.”

“I’m not a Death Eater,” Regulus said.

“Prove it!” Sirius leaned towards him, reaching for his brother’s arm. To Sirius’ surprise, Iset caught his hand.

“How dare you!” Her dark eyes are flashing dangerously. “You don’t know anything. He’s done more to fight Voldemort than either of you.”

For a moment, Sirius thought that he was about to get slapped across the face, but the moment didn't come.

“Iset,” Regulus’ voice was quiet, soothing. “It’s alright. It’s better that he didn't know. The fewer people who know, the less danger I’m in.” Iset settled back in her seat and Regulus put his hand over hers for a moment.

Regulus rolled up his sleeve, the mark was there, but it had faded. “I don’t think that it ever goes away. But make no mistake, the Dark Lord wants me dead.”

Sirius sat back in his seat, studying his brother. For years, he’d had an image of his brother in his mind. His brother who followed exactly what their parents wanted, became a Death Eater, and got cold feet then tried to back out. The idea of Regulus actually standing up to Voldemort threw him for a loop. Regulus hadn’t even stood up to their parents.

“So what did you do?” Sirius asked. It was easy enough for Regulus to say that he wouldn’t go back to Voldemort; snakes can lie. “If I can trust you, then I’ll tell you everything I can.”

Iset was glaring daggers through him, but Sirius ignored it and kept his eye on his brother.

“The Dark Lord sought, probably still seeks, to make himself immortal,” Regulus said, putting down his teacup. “He found an ancient form of magic and sealed part of his soul into an object. He can’t be killed while that object survives. I suspect this is how he returned to power. I discovered the location of this object and retrieved it. I died in the process.”

“So did you retrieve it, or not?” Sirius asked.

“Kreacher!” Regulus called. Kreacher appeared with a crack. “The locket?”

“Here Master,” Kreacher handed Regulus a golden locket wrapped in cloth. Regulus held the chain of the locket with the cloth, careful not to touch it. “Kreacher couldn’t destroy it, master!” Kreacher apologized, bowing his nose to the ground. “Kreacher has punished himself many times, but he can’t destroy it.”

Regulus opened his mouth as if to say something, but Kreacher vanished with a crack before he could speak. Regulus laid the locket on the table. Sirius started to reach for it, curious. Regulus batted his hand away, and Sirius frowned at him.

“Don’t touch it.” Regulus doesn’t say ‘you idiot’, but Sirius can hear it. “It’s nasty, even darker magic than anything in this house.”

“So this is how Voldemort survived,” Remus said, leaning forward and Sirius turned to watch him. Remus used a fork from the table to turn the locket over and inspect it. “This is Slytherin’s locket, is it not?”

“It is,” Regulus said. There was an odd expression on his face and Sirius didn’t know what to make of it. There was a time when Sirius knew what Regulus’ facial expressions meant, but that time had long since gone. Regulus drummed his fingers on the table and there’s a long silence. Sirius couldn’t take his eyes away from the locket. Was a piece of Voldemort’s soul really trapped inside?

“Well,” Regulus finally said into the silence. “Are you going to tell us what is going on or not?”

So they did. Between them, Remus and Sirius, they told Regulus everything that had happened in the last seventeen years. Mostly, Remus spoke and Sirius watched his brother, trying to gauge his reactions. It was strange. He had held in his mind all these years the image of Regulus he’d known while they were still in school: a pompous idiot who was happy to go along with their parents as long as it benefited him. But looking at him now, he seemed so... young, and it made Sirius think of Harry. Regulus didn’t look like the pompous Death Eater Sirius remembered, he looked like a lost kid pretending not to be lost.

When Remus finished with the summary of the fight in the Department of Mysteries they all sat back for a while. Both Iset and Regulus seemed to be trying to digest the information thrown at them. Remus was watching them with his calm, even gaze.

“We need to tell Dumbledore.” It was Sirius who spoke into the silence. Regulus made a face, and to be honest Sirius kind of agreed with him. Sirius hadn’t forgotten the first war; Dumbledore had manipulated the kids on his side, just as much as Voldemort had, even though Dumbledore was on the right side.

“We can imagine that you don’t like him,” Remus said. “But, he’s at the head of the effort against Voldemort. He’s the only wizard Voldemort fears. If anyone needs to know about this locket, it’s him.”

“I suppose,” Regulus said. “But not today. I’d like to have more than two hours back in my body before I have to deal with The Order of The Phoenix.”

Sirius and Remus just blinked at him.

“Oh, the Death Eaters know about your little group,” Regulus waved a hand dismissively. Sirius was thrown back 15 years. The Death Eaters knew, of course, they knew that’s why everyone died. Images, memories, flashed before his eyes: Marlene sprawled across her own doorstep, Fabian and Giddeon lying next to each other with eyes unseeing, blasted ground splattered with blood and bits of Benjy, Alice staring at the ceiling and not responding, Edgar lying on the ground in front of his dead children, James… James.

“Sirius! Sirius! Pads!” He realized that Remus was shaking him. Sirius’ hands were gripping the table so hard his hands were white and his body was trembling.

“I-” Sirius started to speak but no words came to him. He felt a sob threatening to break out of his chest and he covered his face with his hands, trying to focus on calming himself.

He distantly heard someone, probably Regulus, saying “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.”

“It’s not your fault, it happens.” That must have been Remus. Then Remus was back. He placed his hands on Sirius’ shoulders reassuringly.

“What can you hear, Sirius,” Remus's voice was calm, steadying.

“Your voice.”

“What do you smell?”

“Tea,” his brain latched on to that smell, clawing itself back to the dining room, tea, biscuits.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Grimmauld Place,” he knew that his voice was unhappy. “The dining room. We were here with Reg and that girl.”

“Good.” He could hear Remus sitting down next to him.

“Sorry,” Sirius said gruffly, dropping his hands away from his face.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Regulus left?” Sirius asked even though it was obvious that they were now alone in the room.

“I thought it might be best.”

“Probably.

Keep reading on AO3

#regulus black #regulus deserved better #regulus lives #good slytherins #sirius black #grimmauld place #ancient and most noble house of black #walburga black #orion black #regulus and sirius #sirius and regulus #remus lupin #fanfic #fan fiction #ao3 #multichapter #chapter 6 #rab fest #fix it

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losingmymindtonight · 5 years

Text

Trope: Argument

Peter snuck through the window, dropping to the floor as quietly as he could.

It took less than three seconds for him to register that his caution had been pointless.

Tony was waiting for him on the couch, tossing his StarkPad to the side as if it didn’t cost more money than Peter could even begin to process and rushing across the living room.

“Peter,” the man said, eyes dragging over every inch of him. Suddenly, he felt painfully exposed. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

Tony reached for him, hands open and seeking. Peter flinched back, and the man deflated, disappointment streaking sharply across his face before he schooled it into impassiveness.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., is he really okay?”

“I told you, I’m fine-”

“Yes, Boss. Mister Parker is unharmed.”

“See?” He snapped. “What’re you even doing up this late?”

“I could ask you the same question, young man.” The nickname made Peter’s blood boil. “Do I need to explain to you what a curfew is? Is that where we’re going wrong here?”

You’re going wrong everywhere, Peter thought bitterly, you’ve been going wrong since you tried to be my parent, because you’re not.

“I know what a curfew is.”

“Do you?” Tony raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. God, Peter hated him. “Then why are you so determined to disobey it?”

“Why does it fucking matter?”

“Hey, watch your language.”

“Like you give a shit if I curse.”

“I give a shit if you’re cursing at me. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?”

“Yes.” Tony crossed his arms, and Peter nearly laughed. He was trying so hard to exude authority that it made him want to cringe. “Peter, I don’t ask much of you. I let you eat when you want, let you eat what you want. You don’t have chores. I don’t get on you about your homework. All that I ask is that you hold to this one curfew when you’re patrolling. Work with me a little here, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Tony’s face fell. “Okay. Fine. We’ll do this now.” He took a deep breath. “Kid, you and I both know that this is more than the curfew.”

He shrank back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Drop the act, Peter.” There was genuine vulnerable on Tony’s face, and the irony stung. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted so badly just a few months ago? For Tony to look at him like that, for him to use a tone this gentle? “I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything I can think of to make you happy, and you won’t even look at me. C’mon, kid. Tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need.”

“I need May,” he said flatly.

Tony floundered, just like Peter had intended him to. “I... I know. And I know that you hate me because I’m not her, but we’re all we’ve got left, kid. Just us. Just Tony and Peter. Can’t we... can’t we try to make the best out of this?”

Yes, a part of him whispered. The part that still softened at Tony’s voice, the part that wanted nothing more than to lunge forward and accept the hug he knew the man would offer him instantly if he asked for it.

“No,” he said instead, forcing himself not to care about the way Tony flinched at his tone. “I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be your kid. I want to be left alone. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because,” Tony said patiently, “despite what you may think, you are a child. You’re two solid years out from being 18, and once you’re an adult, you’re fully welcome to storm right out of that door and never speak to me again. But until that day comes, I’m responsible for your safety and wellbeing.”

“You don’t own me.”

“I don’t pretend to.”

“Yes, you do!” Angry tears sprung up to his eyes. “You make this stupid fucking curfew, just to stop me from-”

“Lots of children have curfews, Peter. Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not a child!”

“Yes, you are!” Tony stopped himself, took a forceful breath. He was better at holding his tempter than Peter, and it only fueled him on. “You are, kid. You’re sixteen. This is... this is how this works. I need to set you boundaries, and you need to respect them.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Tony sighed, rubbed a hand over his face. Peter recognized it as one of his nervous ticks, something he did when his stress levels were reaching critical levels.

Good, he thought darkly.

“You’re grounded,” Tony said quietly. “No suit, no Ned, no anything except school and back for two weeks. Are we understood?”

Oh, fuck this.

“Screw you,” he snarled. “I’ll do what I want.”

Tony sighed. He looked genuinely regretful when he spoke. “Three weeks now, kid. Let’s not go for a month, for both our sakes.”

The anger was less hot and explosive now. It was cooling, hardening into something steely and dangerous. He was wounded, afraid, full of emotions he couldn’t even begin to understand, and it fucking infuriated him that Tony could be so calm while he was splintering.

“I don’t want to do this, you know,” Tony murmured. “I don’t enjoy punishing you. I just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah, sure.” The sarcasm was nice. It was safe. He knew where to hit, how to aim the blows. “And you know what? I don’t want you.” He got up in Tony’s space, past the point that he knew made the man uncomfortable. “Do you hear me? I don’t want you, and I don’t care what you want. You’re doing all of this for nothing.” He grit his teeth, voice going cold. “I’m not your kid, and you’re not my dad.”

Tony smiled again, soft and sad. He reached up and brushed his knuckles over Peter’s cheek before he could think to flinch away. “I know. I love you, buddy.”

The admission caught Peter so off guard that he stumbled away like he’d been slapped. It had been spoken so gently, so genuinely, that it nearly broke through his angry resolve.

God, it’d been so long since he’d heard those words. So long since someone had offered him the security Tony was right now. He wanted it so badly that it ached.

He shook his head, willed the desire away. He didn’t deserve that. He was meant to be unhappy, he was engineered that way.

He balled up his fists, wiping any uncertainty out of his face and replacing it with fury. Then, he hit back the only way he could think of.

“I hate you!”

He wanted a reaction. He wanted to see Tony hurt, wanted to see him hurt like he did. He wanted to see regret. He wanted to watch the love in the man’s eyes evaporate.

But Tony’s gaze didn’t harden with hatred. If anything, his face just got softer. Sadder. He didn’t even flinch. He just smiled softly, eyes sympathetic, eyes loving. “I know you do, Pete. I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t stand it. If he spent one more second as the object of Tony’s affection, he was going to self-destruct. He’d wanted the man to scream at him, to throw him out and rage and give justification to his internalized guilt.

He yanked his mask back over his face before Tony could realize he was crying and spun back to the window, tearing it open and suffocating the tiny part of him that begged to stay.

“Peter Parker,” Tony’s voice was firm, but not threatening, “do not climb out that window. You shouldn’t be patrolling when you’re this upset. It’s not safe.”

He ignored him, just crawled through the opening and slammed it shut behind him. Tony stood, didn’t do anything to physically stop him, just crossed his arms and shook his head, looking impossibly old and impossibly tired.

Peter jumped.

He shot a web after a brief free fall, swung more aggressively than usual. His aim was always a little skewed, timing always brushing against too late, but he didn’t care. Recklessness was understandable. It was something he was still allowed to be.

His heads-up display went red, a photo of Tony popping up in the corner. A ringtone buzzed in his ear.

“Peter,” Karen had her volume low, tone as close to concerned as an AI could be, “Mister Stark is calling.”

“Cancel it.”

There was a second of silence, and then,

“He is calling again.”

He jerked his upswing hard enough that the web nearly snapped. “Cancel that one, too.”

Karen paused. “Mister Stark wishes me to inform you that if you do not accept his next call, he will force it through.”

“Tell him that if he does, I’ll tear my mask off in the middle of Manhattan.”

The notifications stopped.

“Karen,” he landed heavily on a random roof, rolling to absorb some of the shock, “get me a crime. A big one.”

“I have direct instructions from Mister Stark that you are not to engage in any dangerous-”

“I don’t care what Mister Stark wants. Aren’t you my AI? You can either give me something to do or I’ll find one on my own.”

Somehow, Karen’s voice came out stiffer than usual. “There is a bank robbery three blocks to your left. My scanners indicate three individuals, all heavily armed. One appears to have a weapon of alien origin.”

He started swinging in the direction she pointed him. “Like the stuff Toomes was selling?”

“I believe so.”

“How many of those weapons did he sell? It feels like everyone has one.” He landed in the ally beside the bank, dropping into a crouch. “Have the police been notified?”

“Not yet. They successfully disarmed the alarms. Would you like me to notify the NYPD?”

He slipped closer to the entrance, back pressed against the brick wall. “No. I’ve got it.”

“Peter, I strongly advise that you should-”

“Karen, shut up.”

“Noted,” she replied tersely.

He slipped through the bank’s entrance and immediately saw the robbers. They were decked out in the classic black turtlenecks and balaclavas. Two were talking quietly while the other rifled through the empty till.

“Hey!” He called, grinning as all three men spun around in a frenzy. “Sorry, guys, bank’s closed for the day. There’s a 24 hour ATM outside, though, if you need-”

He’d been expecting the gunshot. Adrenaline surged through him, and he lunged right, shooting a web and tearing the handgun out of the gunman’s grip before he could try anything else. He jumped up and crawled along the ceiling, webbing the now disarmed criminal’s wrist to the counter just as another gunshot rang out.

Pain pierced through his upper arm. Oh, fuck, that one actually grazed him.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice.” He tried to web up the second gun, but missed. “C’mon, can’t we have a conversation about this? It seems a little like you guys-”

The third man pulled out a gun that Peter instantly identified as the alien tech Karen had warned him about. He didn’t have time to do anything before a blast tore through the ceiling above him.

He fell hard, back slamming against the marble floor hard enough that his spine cracked. He felt at least two ribs snap, too. Ouch, ouch, ouch. That was gonna bruise in the morning.

Then he opened his eyes, desperately trying to drag air into his lungs, and he realized that the bruises would be the least of his problems.

The two free robbers were standing over him. One dug the heel of his boot into his stomach, keeping him pinned to the floor, while the other pointed the alien gun at his face,

He heard the whine of the weapon charging. “Sorry about this, Spider-Man. I really didn’t want it to end this way.”

For some reason, the only thing he could think as he stared down the barrel of his imminent demise was I told Tony I hated him.

The door the the bank slammed open and, as if summoned by Peter’s thoughts, a blessedly familiar voice echoed across the room.

“You shoot him, and I’ll make you regret being born. That’s a promise.”

He let out a hysterical breath of relief. “Oh, you guys are so screwed,” he gasped out.

“Shut the fuck up!” The guy with the gun hauled him to his feet and pointed the gun more firmly to Peter’s temple. “Here’s how this is gonna go. We’re gonna walk out of here, and you’re gonna let us, because otherwise, Spider-Man’s gonna get squashed.”

“No, this is how it’s gonna go.” The Iron Man suit sidestepped to the counter and pointed his repulser at the guy Peter had webbed up earlier. “You’re gonna drop your weapon, let Spider-Man go, sit around nice and pretty until the cops get here, and spend the rest of your lives rotting in jail.”

“Why d’you think we’d agree to that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll blow the face off of your little friend here.” Tony pressed the repulser against the man’s cheek. “Your choice. Go.”

The guy holding the gun shrugged. “Alright.”

And then he whipped the weapon away from Peter’s face and fired straight at Tony.

The blast hit both Tony and his hostage, sending them flying back into the wall. Peter didn’t have time to even process what had happened before his spider sense was screaming, and he was rolling to the side without thought.

The floor beside him exploded. He stumbled to his feet, threw a punch without looking, and felt his fist make contact with flesh. Bone cracked on impact, and he realized a little too late that he hadn’t had the presence of mind to censor his strength. The body in front of him fell, and the weapon clattered to the floor beside it.

Peter covered it and its owner with a thick spread of web fluid. He swung around, searching for the second man, but he must’ve made a run for it in the chaos.

“Mister Stark?” He’d expected the man to be right behind him, chastisement for putting himself in danger on his tongue, but he wasn’t. “Mister Stark? Where are you?”

He jogged towards the spot the suit had hit the wall, fear rising every second. He vaulted over the counter, landing lightly on the other side, and felt nausea rise in his throat at the sight that greeted him on the other side.

The suit was sprawled out on the ground, still and lifeless. It was scorched from the blast, entire front blackened. Peter’s eyes roved from that to the other robber, and he nearly pulled his mask over his mouth so he could puke.

He didn’t even look like a person anymore. Peter could vaguely make out where his head and shoulders had been, but it was more inference than anything else. All at once, the smell of burning skin and flesh hit his nose, and he gagged.

Swallowing back his horror, he staggered to the suit and tore at the helmet, breath hitching. He couldn't be dead. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be dead. Peter had shouted at him. The last thing he’d told him was that he hated him.

I don’t hate you, he thought, choking back sobs, I don’t hate you.

The faceplate came away, and he was met with Tony’s bright, open, alive eyes.

“Hey, kiddo.” He winced, shifting in the suit. “Blast knocked out the suit’s power. Think you can help me outta this thing?”

“You’re alive,” he breathed.

Tony’s face softened. “Of course I’m alive. Historically, I’m kinda hard to kill.”

He yanked the breastplate away, then freed Tony’s arms. He grabbed him underneath his armpits and dragged him out of the dead suit, entire body shaking.

“Okay, okay,” Tony murmured, gently pushing Peter’s hands away as they both sprawled out on the floor, “I’m fine. See? Just a little bruised.”

Unconsciously, Peter glanced back at the corpse, gagging all over again when he realized how close they were to it. The smell filled his nose, and he tore his mask off in a desperate attempt to escape the sensation of suffocation. It didn’t work, of course. It anything, the scent was stronger without the mask’s filter.

Tony followed his gaze and stiffened. He grabbed Peter’s bicep and hauled him to his feet, dragging him to the other side of the lobby, until the counter hid the gruesome sight. “Alright,” he muttered, “it’s alright.”

He stumbled backwards, heart racing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the world spun, and he felt Tony grab his elbows to keep him upright, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so-”

“Peter, Peter, shh.” He was being folded into Tony’s arms. The man’s chest was warm, steady. “I heard you the first time, kid. It’s okay. I’ve already forgiven you.”

He shook his head. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. How could Tony just forgive him? “No, no. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Mister Stark, I’m so sorry. Please. I-I-I’m...”

He ran out of breath, and for some reason, his lungs refused to expand to replenish it. Tony cradled him gently as they both sunk to the ground, and then he was being pulled into the man’s lap.

“Fuck, Peter, stop it. You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”

“I-I’m sorry.” His chest ached, his fingertips tingled. When he blinked, his vision frothed at the edges. “I’m... I’m...”

“Please stop apologizing. You’re making me anxious. I think I preferred it when you were shouting it at me.”

He clawed desperately at the back of Tony’s shirt. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. The fear washed everything else away, all his reservations and self-imposed isolation.

“I-I can’t... I can’t-”

“You’re going to pass out if you don’t breathe, Peter.” Tony rocked him gently, hand trailing through his hair in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. “Come on, you can do it. In and out. Deep and slow.”

“I don’t hate you,” he sobbed.

“Oh, Peter.” Tony’s voice was right next to his ear, head bowed against his. “It’s alright.”

“The last thing I did was yell at her,” he whispered. Despite himself, he could feel his body relaxing into Tony’s arms, breaths steadying, mind giving into the aura of safe that the man was exuding. “I yelled at her, and then I went on patrol. When I got back, she was... she was already...”

“Buddy,” Tony’s voice broke, “oh, buddy. That’s not your fault. You just... life just sucks sometimes, yeah? You don’t have to torture yourself over it.”

“I yelled at Ben, too, and then he died.” He let his cheek rest against Tony’s shoulder, let the man take all of his weight. He’d have to pull away, soon. Just... not now. Not yet. “E-Everyone who’s around me dies, Mister Stark. My parents, May, Ben. I’m cursed.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I lied, you know. Back at the Tower. I do want you. I do. I just... I just don’t deserve to want you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t deserve to be happy. Every time I am, bad things happen. I-I have to be unhappy.”

“Nobody deserves to be unhappy, Peter. Least of all you.”

“I do.”

“No, buddy. You really don’t.” Tony shifted him slightly, adjusting his grip. “And, Peter? I’m not trying to be your father. I just want to be... something. I don’t know what that something is, and I don’t really think we have to know. Just... let me be something to you, buddy. Let me help you.”

Peter felt small. “What if you die, too?”

Tony chuckled. “What did I say earlier, huh? I’m very hard to kill.” He paused. Peter could feel his thumb sweeping over the back of his neck, a nervous rhythm. “You know, meeting you was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I’m not about to give you up without a fight.”

“But I’ve been awful.”

“You’re grieving, Peter, and you’re so afraid of feeling it that you’ve locked yourself in a corner. You’ve convinced yourself that being angry is far better than the alternatives, but it’s not true, and it’s not who you are. I know that.”

“I’m still angry,” he murmured, and it was true. He could still feel that familiar fury in the bottom of his gut, a hot coal he couldn’t escape.

“I know. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

He nodded, slow and precise. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, Peter.” He could feel Tony’s lips press against his temple. “I don’t think I could if I tried.”

#yo yo yo ya girl likes this one too #it's a miracle #tw: argument #tw: guns #tw: mentions of death #irondadbingo #irondad #tony & peter #tony stark #peter parker #losingmymindtonight writes

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gtorres21ahsgov · 4 years

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Media Assessment of Racial Injustice

Brands Have Nothing Real to Say About Racism https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2020/06/brands-racism-protests-amazon-nfl-nike/612613/

Subject: This source talks about the powers of the media. How huge brands with massive followings have participated or rarely peek their head out on the comments of racism and police brutality following the death of George Floyd. Why is it that big platforms as Nike,Twitter, and even the NFL have hardly touched on this subject? Is it because of political backlash like the majority of them claim it is?

Author: Amanda Mull is a staff writer for the Atlantic. She’s written on a wide variety of topics such as nutrition, health, beauty, but also branches out towards feminism, sports, and the changing culture of America.

Context: Article was published on June 3, 2020 weeks after the death of George Floyd. This article followed even after the media outrage sparked due to George’s death as millions protested, rioted, and spoke amongst themselves and the community. With big brand names getting called out to say their views on the situation at hand this article is a good representation on how big brands deal with real life social issues. How easily they can be dragged into discussion and what they will provide to their audience because of the recent event which was so widespread throughout the United States and possibly even the world.

Audience: The source was published for everyone that is involved with big brand companies or even media itself. And with media widely available for everyone in the United States it is hard not to be sucked in. The reliability for the source can be supported on the fact these big brand names are supported by hundreds of millions of people in the United states. Those who are the media lab rats who are conducted to be glued to their phone and exposed to all the trending media simply by swiping their fingers. It’s purpose is to awaken those who are trapped in this mindless media usage when this can be a big factor in everyone's lives.

Perspective: This is leaning towards liberal as it comes from a perspective of an individual who can be related to many other individuals who are in agreement with her view of society and the issues we live in,

Significance: Amanda Mull uses behind the scenes credentials such as Nike’s video discussing the racial injustice cause. With the words “Just don’t do it” going against their original slogan of “Just do it”. After this many smaller branches of sports media and even athletes followed up on the discussion which in attention brought millions of eyes to the topic. Famous athletes following up on the discussion will then engage their audience to speak up about the issues as well. With horrific videos being broadcasted all over the media reaching even young children it shows importance to those empowered that we must have changed now.

The Evils of Injustice and the Danger of Mobocracy

https://www.nationalreview.com/corner/the-evils-of-injustice-and-the-danger-of-mobocracy/

Subject: Source discusses the mobs that have risen throughout these racial injustice times. Claims a rise of mobocracy which is a rule or dominations from the masses. It states that issues don't address the cycle of angry mobs that can be cited from any point in time of history even before the discovery of the United States that people will seek to come to power. And if issues are not to come to a conclusion that works amongst the angry protestors and activists then the cycle of history will continuously repeat itself.

Author:Yuval Levin the director of social, cultural, and constitutional studies at the American Enterprise Institute and the editor of National Affairs, a quarterly journal of essays on domestic policy and politics. He has been a member of the White House domestic-policy staff under President George W. Bush and a congressional staffer. Because Yuval Levin has political office experience it gives him more of an insight view and knowledge that most other people don’t have. Can be very in-formatting and widen audience understanding.

Context: Published on June 2,2020 again following after the media outrage of George Floyd with riots and protest rising out as a consequence. The post explains how higher authorities have failed to grasp the concept in which people desire a unity of law and social norms. That no one in our society should have to in any way show they are no harm to a higher authority and this issue has sparked outrage on millions of activists who will continuously seek change until change is given. Easily due to his previous experience working as an office member he can read the president's intention and motives. Accurately giving a breakdown on the thought process that is behind our very own president.

Audience: The targets are aimed towards the ones who may oversee this issue as just another media outrage without understanding the cycle of mobs and angry masses of people being a cycle of history. One’s who are blind or give a shoulder to the people who seek change and ask for the help and support to make those changes come through. The focus is to discuss the negative outcomes will only become worse if help is not involved with the people. And for those who simply are a viewer on the sidelines it talks about getting on the field with your people and to believe in a cause you stand for. And if the cause you stand for is not met then make it a primary objective to meet that standard with your higher authority or the history will always repeat itself.

Perspective: Perspective comes from a conservative standpoint because it explains the history and promotes social institutions for context of civilizations in which addresses how people can get involved and what even different levels of involvement people can be into. Instead of activists simply being informed on the topic is simply enough to get others in discussion. And to see past media and to believe in your own social norms.

Significance: “Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.” A quote said from Lincoln who had the ability to see pass this wall that constricts people's outlook on society. That wall is the ideas and beliefs that are passed down from generation to generation and that wall will forever be continuously there until we are able to overcome the wall and see the things we aren’t supposed to see.

17 Year old arrested after 2 killed during unrest in Kenosha

https://www.themonitor.com/2020/08/26/17-year-old-arrested-2-killed-unrest-kenosha/

Subject: Shows how even young generations can be negatively involved in a social cause as a 17 year old shoots down two innocent people in a third straight night protest. One of them being Jacob Blake who tragically died over an irrational decision that was brought by the 17 year old. This shows acts can be facilitated through horrific actions such as shooting those who are against your belief. Explains how ununified we actually are in America more than we thought.

Author: Mike Householder and Scott Bauer are first response reporters. Their jobs are to collect hard cold facts and make them broadcasted. Obtaining those facts throughout interviews and quickly arriving at scenes where destruction is caused where they can then see first had the issues that rise and write about it from their perspectives followed by factual evidence.

Context: Published on August 26,2020 it accurately follows the events that took place during the Protest in Kenosha. Because it was published soon after events took place it gave them a more accurate writing as there was little to no time at all for other media to cover the issues and change the story. The true story is that the 17 year old was convicted of homicides in which he killed 2 and injured 1 person after sparking a shooting at the protest against those supporting the racial injustice movement.

Audience: Shows to everyone that this generation being involved in this negativity is a greatly disgusting and horrific thing to see and hear about. A child who had possibly his whole life ahead of him is not facing sentence in jail for killing and gunning down people. Does it not frighten those who have kids that this is the world in which their own children can me sucked into. And as young adults ourselves how possibly someone like this can be around us in supposedly safe environments maybe even such as school. The audience targeted are the ones who see the cause for change.

Perspective: Objective because of the facts and evidence that are amongst the article. They just talk about the event in which it took place as well as the reasoning behind the shooting. Simple and hardcore evidence of large social issue.

Significance: Again makes people question the world we live in. With just the topic itself a 17 year old boy had the courage to attend this event and shoot people. Obviously a lack of education is in fault of parenting and the school system for not addressing more knowledge on these kids in which in turn around these kids whose brains are like sponges are not only absorbing the negativity in which is presented in front of them and only know that. Article shows the needs for change with evidence provided .

The similarities are all the discussion on change for a more positive outlook on society. How we all are wanting change but our actions of negativity are actually straying us from our goal further and further. The differences are how people are expressing those wants and needs. Many are protesting either peacefully or violently. We need to come to a common conclusion that we all see fit as we all who are involved in the movement just want to see a common goal be achieved which is the ability to see others who are different in race and be socially accepted.

The source I identify most with would be The Evils of Injustice and rise of Mobocracy because I do believe that higher powers are failing to understand our true desires and only see our negativity as a rebellious act when it is trying to gain their attention that we want change.

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caustic-curses · 4 years

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HPHM Profile: Corbyn Reyes

Thanks to @hogwartsmysterystory for this new profile template!

IDENTITY

Name: Corbyn Samil Reyes

Gender: Cisgender Male

Age: 16

Birth Date: 11/15/1972

Species: Valravaan

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Asexual

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Ethnicity: Slavic

Nationality: Serbian

Residence: Bristol, UK

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ISTJ

THE MAGE

1st Wand: Pine | Dragon heartstring core | 12 ¾" in length | Rigid flexibility

The straight-grained pine wand always chooses an independent, individual master who may be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. Pine wands enjoy being used creatively, and unlike some others, will adapt without protest to new methods and spells. Many wandmakers insist that pine wands are able to detect and perform best for owners who are destined for long lives, and I can confirm this in as much as I have never personally known the master of a pine wand to die young. The pine wand is one of those that is most sensitive to non-verbal magic.

As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

2nd Wand: Ebony| Dragon heartstring core.| 11 ¼ “| Unyielding

This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic, and to Transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. In my experience, the ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

Animagus: White Cat

Misc Magical Abilities: Parselmouth (currently unaware)

Boggart Form: Being in a hospital gown gaunt and ignored

Riddikulus Form: Dog in an outfit prancing around

Amortentia: The scent of patchouli, rose and teak wood tease the senses while the note of vanilla adds excitement (spicy, the thrill of late summer, mountain flowers)

Amortentia: the earthy scent of a meadow, lavender & coral rose, and the faded scent of butterbeer (Tulip)

Patronus: Cat

Patronus Memory: Camping late at night with Jakov and creating images from the stars

Mirror of Erised: Seeing his mother there, holding him close with a delighted smile of approval and acceptance.

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Caterwauling charm, Confundo, and Diffindo. His favorite is the disillusionment charm.

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Ivan Vuckovic

Game Appearance:

Height: 5’4

Weight: 135

Physique: Average

Eye Colour: dark forest green (D20 on the 1998 eye chart) Left eye is 3s lighter as he is becoming blind in that eye from a spell gone wrong

Hair Colour: deep brown with natural mahogany highlights (noticeable in direct sunlight) styled via French crop with a gradual fade.

Skin Tone: warm ivory

Inventory: He wears a dragon-shaped pendant and a dark brown wooden wrist cuff given to him by Jakov, his wand, and a pair of glasses

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Affiliations/Organizations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Professions: Aurologist and Herbalist

HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆

Charms: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆

DADA: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆

Flying: ★★★★★★★★★☆

Herbology: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

History of Magic: ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Potions: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

Transfiguration: ★★★★★★★★☆☆

Electives:

Care Of Magical Creatures: ★★★★★★★★☆☆

Divination: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆

Quidditch: Chaser

Extra-Curricular: Gardening Club

Favorite Professors:

Professor McGonagall -She takes on the role of a mother figure in Corbyn’s eyes. She is stern but only out of a desire to see him succeed. Her admiration for his accomplishments is thus hard-won and genuine.

Professor Sprout - Her gentle nature and willingness to encourage his interest in herbology quickly made her one of his favorite teachers. She is patient and kind, he can always count on her class to be his favorite.

Least Favourite Professors:

Professor Snape - No matter what he does, it’s never good enough. No matter how hard he studies he continually feels inferior. He came to school hoping to escape that type of nonsense.

Professor Rakepick- She’s suspicious. Her methods of teaching don’t sit well with him and it seems as if there are more at stake than just a few house points.

RELATIONSHIPS

Brother: Jakov Callum Reyes | (21yo) 11/271967- Sagittarius

Seer although he never told his family (mother had suspicions)

Woodcarver-aspires to be a wand designer

Is aware that Corbyn is his half-brother

Biological Father: Haedon Knezevic | (35 yo) 4/17/1951 -Aries

Full-blooded Valravan -began life as a raven

Magic is gathered from outside sources rather than from within like wizards

He was locked away under the watchful eye of the Legacies which prevented him from being a part of Corbyn’s early childhood.

Father: Ezekial Reyes | (41yo) 5/9/1947 -Taurus

He married Lilith despite her indiscretions when in his late twenties.

Despite not being his true father, Ezekiel took on the role without question to become the parental figure Corbyn adores. As a role model, he endeavored to teach Corbyn virtues. He can only pray that they stuck with him at Hogwarts.

He was gone often and for long periods of time due to his work. This field of work has caused him to become sick but he keeps this as a secret.

Mother: Lilith Reyes | (38yo) 2/25/1948 - Pisces

Cheated on Ezekiel with Haedon becoming pregnant with Corbyn. He functions as a bitter reminder of everything she lost and of what she could have had.

Lilith is an Ilvermorny Alumni

When Jakov disappeared, Lilith’s smile went with him. A bit of her spirit broke and Corbyn was left with the aftermath of distance and anger.

Love Interest: Tulip Karasu

Best Friends: Barnaby Lee, Tulip Karasu & Chiara Loboscu

Rival: Merula Snyde & Diego Caplan

Enemy: Frith Fuilteach & Seth Drystan

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna & Laurent King

Pets: Midi- Tawny owl

Closest Canon Friends: Penny Haywood, Rowan Khanna, Barnaby Lee, Charlie Weasley

Closest MC Friends:

Laurent King (@slytherin-puffskein)

Dahlia Goldman (@a-bear-at-hogwarts)

Samuel Gabehart (@hphm-ravenclaw-writings)

BACKGROUND/HISTORY

While Ezekiel was away on business trips, Jakov often took over the role of parent. As an older sibling, he was expected to make Corbyn mind the rules while also helping his mother. The more often that this occurred, the more that Jakov began to resent his half-brother. The games they played became rougher and bordered on dangerous. Jakov was a teen pushed too early into adulthood and Corbyn was the scapegoat.

Despite this, Corbyn admired Jakov and looked up to him. To him, there were tense times but that did not diminish the genuine fun that they had. He loved Jakov as did their mother. So when news began to circulate about him opening the vaults, their mother was worried something might happen. This was proven correct when they received that fated letter. She was heartbroken. Jakov left and took her maternal love. Corbyn was left with bitterness, resentment, and emotional manipulation. It was here that he realized vulnerability is deadly.

The Reyes had only recently moved to Bristol, UK when they received the news. Corbyn was 9 years old when he realized his brother would not be coming home. Rumors regarding Jakov joining You-Know-Who or his possible death were hard to hear but he continued to defend his brother to the point of coming home bruised and bloodied.

It was debated but Corbyn was allowed to go to Hogwarts in 1984. It wasn’t because his mother was scared of losing him. It was because she was sure he was a squib because he had only a few magical mishaps. She did not want to be further embarrassed by him.

During the first few years at Hogwarts, he befriended several students who demonstrated that vulnerability can be okay and it is sometimes needed. Not only did he learn some interesting spells but he learned of secrets and rumors that caused him to seek out the truth and eventually befriend Chiara.

PERSONALITY

Loyal: This is to a certain extent. Even if you are friends, he might not be loyal until you’ve proven yourself to be worthy of that loyalty. Sure, it is a bit of a test but once that loyalty is won, it is golden.

Self-sufficient: Due to the nature of how he was raised, Corbyn learned early on that the one person he can rely on is himself. Thus, he has a hard time asking for help in any matter. He prefers to solve the problem himself rather than be indebted to anyone.

Clever: Witty. Sarcastic. Corbyn uses words to cut down others or to trick them for profit. He does this because it's one way to look out for himself. If he can trick you, he will continue to do so for as long as possible.

Vindictive: Being a jealous individual isn’t a good look but he hasn’t been able to change. When someone crosses him or especially someone he has befriended (see loyal), then he’s out to assure that this never happens again. He will find your weaknesses and force you to endure them.

Obstinate: While this can sometimes be seen as negative, he is stubborn in the sense that he knows what he stands for and what he wants out of life. He is headstrong so it makes convincing him otherwise to be a headache.

MISC

Likes: intense spices, herbology, pranking his friends, the idea of courting

Dislikes: bananas, excessively sweet things, The Black Lake, not knowing how to swim

Hobbies: working with magical creatures, cooking/grilling, gambling

#corbyn reyes #hphm profile #about my mc #about corbyn #corbyn reyes profile

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