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ravencincaide · 5 months

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Make it up to you

Summary: Chuuya fucked up. You knew it. He knew it. The question was could you recover from it? Or the time you put Chuuya between a rock and a hard place.

Pairing: fem!reader x Chuuya

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 10: Shining shoes

Warnings: Cursing, mention of clubwear/revealing clothes and alcohol,

Authornote:

Dogeza - A deepest (and often most humiliating) form of Japanese apology often targeted towards one's superiors or when requesting a favor. As Wikipedia states “By performing dogeza and apologizing to someone, usually the other person would have a tendency to forgive.” More on it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dogeza

This fic follows a theme where the reader does not know Chuuya is in the Mafia. I hope you enjoy ~ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You looked good.

The clothes you picked out hugged your figure in all the right places. The black with golden glitter corset accentuating your figure giving you a smooth hourglass shape. It pushed your breasts up, giving them a perky appearance. The top black shimmery lace gave your girls just the right amount of modesty to not take away the teasing preview, especially since you weren’t wearing a bra. The design of the corset made it natural to look down, following the curve of your hips down your asymmetrical skirt; layers of sheer golden glitter between the folds of black lace. It was especially pleasing around your ass adding just the right amount of tempting volume before the long back piece of it stretched over your legs and down to your black and gold heels. The front of the skirt was shorter and simpler. Just long enough that it wasn’t revealing too much while still showing off plenty of leg. You chose to forgo tights. There was no point in being modest, you were going clubbing after all.

Twirling to the loudly playing pop song from your phone you took one more look at yourself. You had curled your hair, the bouncy locks circling over your shoulders and down to your waist and did your nails in matching colours. You were fully intending to show them off, picking a black clutch to match your attire. The perfume you picked was a sweet and playful scent- one you hadn’t worn in years because it just didn’t feel right to your ‘in relationship’ self. Now that you were single and it suited you perfectly. There was no question about it: You looked fucking hot.

All that was left were some last touches of make up before you were ready to head out and start pre-gaming. There was a cheap bar just around the corner from your house where you agreed to meet up with your girls- a pack of single ladies ready to get over their trashy boyfriends.

Ding dong

Speaking of your pack, your lips pulled up into a pleased smile as you finished applying your mascara before tossing it in the bag together with the rest of your make up. Another doorbell rang making you roll your eyes “ Sheesh I’m coming, I’m coming, no need to get your panties in a twist” You called, unable to believe how impatient your girlfriends were.

Opening the door you were greeted with a bouquet of hundreds of dark red roses in slightly different shades which rather discreetly spelled out the word “ I love you”. They were held by a gloved hand, which was attached towards a very restless looking, top-hat wearing Chuuya. “ Sweetheart I-”

Without a second thought you slammed the door in his face and turned on your heel, heading back into your bathroom. You made a quick pause in the living room, changing the music from pop to club music. You also made sure to increase the volume, which almost drowned out the sound of banging and “oj are you fucking serious right now?” coming from behind your front door.

Where were you?

Eyes done. Mascara done. Lips outlined and coloured with lipstick. Only some lipgloss and you’d be ready to go. You took your time to look through your makeup pouch, hesitating between a plumping gloss and a shimmering one. Would you look too much like a magpie with even more glitter and gold on your body?

The sound of the doorbell in combination with hits- from both feet and fist- broke your concentration. Your Indecisiveness won out and you threw both tubes into your clutch. You’d apply the gloss in the bar you decided.

Another prolonged ring of the doorbell.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deep breaths to keep the hot rod of anger in your stomach at bay. With each ring the anger grew, mixing with other unpleasant emotions such as ‘humiliation’ and ‘hurt’.

Another kick towards the door.

You swore you could hear the wood shaking- cracking- in the frame. Finally losing your cool you made quick feet back towards the front door, ripping it opened just as Chuuya was about to call out to you again

“ Sweetheart I-”

“ What the fuck do you want?” you yelled at him.

Chuuya flinched, anger flashing in his blue orbs before he bowed his head hiding his emotion beneath the shade of the hat. Once more he cautiously held the flowers towards you. Urging you to take them. You crossed your arms over your chest, your nails digging into your forearms. A side of you wanted to slam the door back in his face. While another side of you wanted closure- an explanation, a simple reason why.

“ I’m so sorry sweetheart” he bowed his head lower as a sign of sincerity in his apology “ I fucked up.”

“ Damn right.” You snapped back, his apology felt like a hot knife in your chest. It was doing little to sooth you. “ Is that all you wanted?”

He didn’t raise his head. Like a scolded kid he kept looking at the floor “ I wanna make it up to you.”

You scuffed at that and shook your head. “ Who the hell do you take me for? I have some self respect! You think you can humiliate me- stand me up, on valentine's day of all days! Ignore my calls and messages. Just ghost me for a month and then stroll up to my door with flowers and all is forgiven and forgotten. Fuck. You!”

You stared at him for thirty seconds, waiting for him to say anything. To give you a reason, an explanation. Something that would make you understand. That would somehow justify all the suffering you had to put up with during this past month. All this time- and without a single word from him. Nada. You had grown so desperate after a few days, so fucking worried that you had send a text to Dazai asking him if he knew anything. Not even an hour later he responded with a picture.

The picture showed Chuuya’s reflection in a mirror: mouth wide open with two protruding vampire fangs. Gloves off, poking at them. In the background was a plastic bag from a large and well known halloween and party store, a glass of wine and a lit cigarette peeking out atop a bedside drawer. In the picture, on the opposite side from the bedside drawer, you caught the glimpse of the bed, dark covers and silky sheets.

Your cynical mind guessed- although you couldn’t prove it- that it was a one bed bedroom. But what you could say with certainty that it was a hotel room. And that was how you found out you were dumped. And now he wanted to make it up to you? Just when you were starting to pick the pieces back up? Fuck him twice!

You watched Chuuya take a breath, his voice shaky, a broken plea as he apologized again: “ I’m sorry. I really really am Y/N”

Your response was slamming the door back in his face.

Then you leaned your back against it. Your attention was on the ceiling, blinking fast to prevent the tears from falling. If you started crying now you’d ruin your makeup that you spend the last hour perfecting. He was not worth that. He wasn’t– but why did he have to come back now? Just.. why?

You didn’t hear ringing or banging anymore and heaved sighed. You didn’t know if you were relieved that he left or whether you were sad that it took so little for him to disappear again. Was there perhaps a hint of anger that he treasured you so little? Why did he even bother coming back?

You stayed in the apartment until your phone buzzed with a text message. Night out with friends. Right.You went over to your phone and turned off the music, then picked up your clutch and a few other necessities on the way before you put on your heels. Then you opened the front door, freezing in your doorway. Chuuya was leaning against the wall opposite your door. Arms crossed over his chest, the ridiculous bouquet of flowers now laying on the floor.

You felt a little bit of pity for them- after all the roses haven’t done anything wrong. “ Sweetheart I’m not leaving until we talk, even if I have to follow you to your outing” Chuuya stated keeping his eyes respectfully on your face “ Just give me a bit of your time. You have every right to send me to hell after and I promise I’ll never approach you again.” You looked at him and he stared back. Battle of the wills. Who’d break first?

You knew Chuuya was persistent. You had no doubt in your mind that he would follow you around, all night if he had to, until you gave him your time. You doubted he would intervene no matter what you did, but you also did not feel comfortable drinking and dancing all night if he was going to sit in the corner and watch you. Let alone complain and critique his actions with your girlfriends if he was just gonna sit behind your shoulder and listen in.

In defeat you sighed heavily and opened the door wider before turning on your heel and going back inside. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him take a step towards you and you paused in the doorway. The bouquet of flowers on the floor tugged once more at your heart. You didn’t think those beautiful roses deserved to be discarded like trash in the hallway, to be stomped on by passers. Walked on until there was nothing left of them.

“ Take the flowers with; they did nothing wrong.” You took out your phone and began texting your friends while attempting to kick your heels off in the hallway. After a few moments of struggle your heels were off your feet and you headed back into your living room. You heard Chuuya taking off his shoes behind you. You didn’t bother to wait for him. You finished your text before you tossed your phone and clutch onto the couch.There you stopped and turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest again.

Chuuya wore a tired expression on his face: his eyes were slightly red, irritated and you could see black rings under them from lack of sleep. His clothes looked ruffled and far from pristine: crickled and definitely not the first freshness. You could see that his hair was messy, even if most of it was hidden beneath his hat. Despite your anger, the sight of him so tired and pale tugged at your heart. You watched with less anger as he set the flowers carefully on the table as if they would somehow defuse the tense situation. Your eyes lingered on them, not wanting to let go of your anger and hurt quite yet.

“I’m very sorry Y/N” You glanced back at him, your jaw dropping as you saw the proudest man you’ve ever known on his knees bowing his apology. It was not quite a dogeza but considering this was Chuuya of all people this was the closest possible to achieve from him.

The equivalent of a miracle.

“ I am deeply sorry Y/N. I didn’t leave because I wanted to. Something happened at work that demanded my attention urgently and I had to leave Yokohama within half an hour. I got back today” he explained, his hands in fists at his sides his knuckles brushing against the carpet of your living room. Each word was spoken through squeezed teeth; he was biting through this humiliating act for a chance at forgiveness. “So you’re telling me that you stood me up because of work?“ You asked slowly, eyes narrowed in anger. You took a step closer to him. “And you didn’t have the decency to give me a call?” Chuuya sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to rub away the guilt and regret. “ I didn’t take my phone with me,” he admitted. The action made you raise an eyebrow,baffled. Then you laughed in disbelief. Another step towards him as if you could intimidate him into telling the truth “ You? Did not take your phone with you?” Chuuya nodded slowly, not finding any amusement in the current situation. “ I didn’t.. If I had it with me I’d be more focused on you and us.. Instead of work, sweetheart…I didn’t think a phone call or sms would solve this. I broke my promise to you. A text would not be able to solve that.”

You chewed on your lip in thought, your anxiety pooling in your stomach. Unconsciousely you inched closer to him. Despite your anger towards him, you missed him so fucking much“ You know, I can’t tell if you’re lying or telling the truth when I don’t even know where you work?”

“ Sweetheart please–” Chuuya reached up and wrapped his arms around your waist. He buried his face in your stomach. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Then another deep breath and another.

" Seriously, You'd rather humiliate yourself on your knees than tell me where you work?" Your hand reached out and took off his hat, while your second hand began running through the tangled strands of orange hair. Your favorite hair.

Chuuya did not hesitate to answer your question:" If it keeps you safe, then yes."

" Is it that important that I don't know? Kinda like you'd have to kill me if I found out" You half joked before you moved to sit on the floor right in front of him. Eye to eye, his hands still on your waist.

Chuuya fixed you with a firm gaze, his blue orbs serious and worried. Not finding even the slightest bit of humour in your joke. “ I would never kill you, sweetheart. '' His gloved hand reached up and tugged the escaped baby hairs behind your ear and out of your face. “ But the more you know the more that could place you in danger–” he trailed off. His gloved hand trailing from your ear and to your cheek slowly stroking your skin. “Babydoll please”

You surrendered and leaned into his touch. How could you ever say no to this man? To this proud, arrogant yet sweet man who’d gift you the world if you asked for it. You closed your eyes for a second, breathing in the familiar scent. The tension left your shoulders slowly. Anger fading into sadness, humiliation and tiredness, You just wanted to understand.

Instantly he moves closer and presses his lips to yours. His lips felt chapped and raw, uneven and he tastes of coffee and cigarettes. But also of Chuuya. Your Chuuya. The second kiss was deeper, and you can taste a hint of your cherry flavored lipstick on his tongue. The kiss was hungry- you’re hungry for him, for his touch and taste after a month apart. And he was clinging to you as if you were his everything.

When you finally ran out of breath you broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his. Your eyes staring into his; seeing all the emotions that were too hard for him to say out loud. " You hurt me very much, you know that. Can you promise me you won't do it again?"

Taking your hand in his own he nuzzled his face into the palm, his lips brushing your wrist every few moments. At your question he sighed. It looked like a part of him died with the answer " No, I can’t promise that” you move to pull away.

Chuuya’s hold on you tightened, not letting you go, He continued speaking: " But I can promise I'll not leave you alone ever again" His lips were back on your skin, now more boldly kissing your wrist.

You sighed tired and defeated, weak to those blue eyes of his and devilish kisses. " I guess that's good enough for now"

Chuuya nodded slowly, a hint of a grateful smile on his lips as he moved closer to kiss you again. But you stop him with a finger on his lips:" Say Chuu, did your hotel room have one bed?" He looked up at you with a confused and mildly annoyed expression on his face, gears shifting in his head as he tried to figure out what you were getting at. When he didn't reply you continued " were there girls?"

Chuuya gave you the most unimpressed and deadpanned look he could master " I didn't cheat"

You hummed for a moment, beginning to thread your fingers through his ponytail, detangling the knots as his lips pressed kisses to your skin. Suddenly you paused, gears clicking in your head as you realized he avoided answering the actual question : "Chuuya!..."

#chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #sweetober #apologies #begging #kisses

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sanctum-of-ramshackle · 2 years

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Do We Have a Deal?

TWST AU: An MC/Yuu from Hazbin Hotel

Demon Lord!MC/Yuu

[Synopsis]: In this timeline, Crowley “accidentally” summoned a demon and they now hang around NRC.

[TW]: A brief mention of MC/Yuu having intrusive thoughts of consuming human souls and flesh.

Gender Neutral MC/Yuu

[A/N]: I have been listening to Insane by Black Gryph0n (ft. Baasik) and it’s quite catchy.

First question: How did they arrived in Twisted Wonderland?

There’s an old forbidden book locked away in an enchanted glass case, hidden deep in the library to prevent students to have their hands on it. Dire Crowley, as irresponsible as he is, decided to open the case just for curiosity.

Trein spotted him and warned him about what it contains. Incantations, immoral rituals, harmful spells, the list goes on. (Don’t ask me how he knows. All I can say he’s way old to know what’s dangerous.) After being warned, Crowley still continues to possibly doom everyone’s lives.

He got the book and flips through the pages containing cryptic symbols and eerie messages written from the previous writer. Then he finds one page that caught his masked eyes.

[Pg. 667: <The Radio Demon>]

The summoning goes by a ritual involves a secluded area, 5 candlesticks, a pentagram with symbols copied from the page, an old radio and a drop of impure blood. There’s specific instructions the reader needs to follow.

Then Crowley proceeds to perform the ritual in the Mirror Chamber. As he finishes the instructions, the floor cracks opens to reveal a figure in a sharp suit with asymmetrical deer antlers and eyes glowing eerily staring at Crowley.

“Who has summoned me and what business you have in mind~?” Their voice as if muffled through a microphone with technical problems at a radio station.

“The Radio Demon?”

*Record scratches*

Now in their actual voice. “…That’s my brother, Alastor. I’m the Static Demon.”

Yep. That’s right. They’re related to The Infamous Radio Demon.

There’s been a HUGE misunderstanding. The demon snatches the forbidden book out of Crowley’s hands and flips to their page.

[Pg. 667 <The Radio Static Demon>]

“I told that writer not to write in a candle lit room at night. Great, now I need to get this over with and finish what started.” They mumbled before turning the attention to Crowley, shadowing over the headmaster. Smiling sinisterly down at him.

“Now tell me, my fellow crow-man, do you wish to make a deal~? If you try to trick me with your human cleverness, it won’t work.”

Now Crowley screwed up. He unleashed a demon who can turn people mad. He panics and offers a deal for them to hang around while try not to cause insanity.

Static Demon!MC/Yuu was just summoned in an unfamiliar world so why not explore the place.

Also Static Demon!MC/Yuu found Grim and demands Crowley to register the feline creature in the college since they see great “potential” in him.

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: Young man, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What Great Seven? I only know powerful people from Hell, and one of them is me~

[Croaks their neck to the side while smiling creepily over Ace. Static noises start deafening the First Year student’s ears.]

Ace: *Covers his ears* *Has a terrified expression and internally screaming*

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: Are we clear?

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: *Pulls out their reading glasses and reads a contract from Azul* …You boys are idiots.

Ace, Deuce, and Grim: Eh?!

Ace: You don’t have to remind us about it.

Deuce: We’re really sorry, Lord MC/Yuu…

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: You should’ve asked for my help with the exam. Not sign your will off with a grubby eight-legged mafia boss.

Trey: MC/Yuu, what do you usually eat?

Static Demon!MC/Yuu’s cannibalistic thoughts: ‘The souls/flesh of the innocence!’

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: Bagels.

Static Demon!MC/Yuu’s cannibalistic thoughts: ‘What?! No!’

Static Demon!MC/Yuu: And venison. That’s what I usually consume back home.

[(A/N): Little lore for this MC/Yuu: They try to eat less human flesh since after having access to the internet back in Hell, they got disgusted by facts of what diseases their future victims can carry.]

💫Reblogs help creators!✨

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #twisted wonderland mc #twst mc #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #hazbin hotel #demon lord!mc #demon lord!yuu #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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loquaciousquark · 2 years

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Exandria Unlimited: Calamity Wrap-Up (July 13, 2022)

Very belatedly, here’s the cast-full recap for Calamity. Everyone is here, including Brennan (excluding Matt) and Marisha is hosting-ish. Aabria wins her first game of rock paper scissors ever as part of the intro.

Aabria normally doesn’t care about optimizing characters, but Brennan’s alert that they would die she took as a challenge. Laerryn more than doubled Patia’s HP thanks to Toughness & her Arcane Ward. She did a lot of research to build the character as solidly as possible. Brennan’s direction to the cast to pick lots of magical items (in retrospect: OUCH) frightened Sam, who picked only a Wand of Smiles & a +1 Ring of Protection--and even that made him feel guilty. Luis asking for a Holy Avenger gave Marisha the freedom to ask for more. Brennan: “But there’s an element of verisimilitude to that though, right? These people, the movers and shakers of Avalir. ‘Can I borrow $20?’ No! These people would be fucking loaded!“ It wasn’t just a clever parenting ploy trying to wrangle children, it made sense in the world which doesn’t need an army, just a guy with a Belt of Storm Giant Strength.

Lou wasn’t as Calamity-infused as the rest; he was just excited to be on Critical Role & didn’t feel like he could just show up as a plain bard, so he did bard-sorcerer. (Sam didn’t want to do a plain bard since he’d done that before, but wanted to play something familiar at this high level. Brennan suggested the flavoring, and Sam picked his multiclass warlock patron from the first fey result on the CR wiki. Oh, Sam.) Lou used his Magical Secrets feat to get his dragon summon and the Cone of Cold, “’cause we never took a rest of any kind.” Brennan: “All the GMs out there, fuck a rest, all right? They don’t need ‘em.”

Nydas started as a sorcerer. Loquatius started as a warlock. Patia was a pure School of Enchantment wizard. She didn’t get to use a lot of her class features within the game, but the one thing she did get to clear with Brennan was that she got to use her vast library knowledge to have access to 10 extra spells.

Brennan: GMs & DMs shouldn’t be stingy when the character designs should allow for expansion. Find non-gamebreaking ways to expand character powers.

Travis walked into character creation with zero prep, despite instructions to come with ideas. He happened to be the last one at the table to describe his concept, and after everyone else was full magic, he & Brennan landed on the non-magical investigator rogue. Travis always builds characters by starting with an item. Fjord began with a pair of silver forearm bracers/greaves which he got from a costume shop. Likewise, Cerrit came from these very cool hawks (a type of handaxe) from a fighting system called Sayoc Kali in the Phillipines (wielded by a Navy Seal named Jack Carr). That turned into the Philippine Eagle, which came together beautifully with the Sightwarden elements.

Travis talks about being blown away in the first episode with how natural a rapport some of the characters had with each other (especially excluding him). He felt like he’d missed a meeting. However, it turns out there was indeed a secret meeting between Marisha, Aabria, and Lou in which they talked about their characters’ secret nasty histories with each other.

Brennan wanted to know all the ways that the 75% of the energy dedicated to the Replenishment was actually being misused, siphoned, or otherwise misdirected, and his few suggestions (lichdom, people extending their lives) paled in comparison to the players’ ideas (making the city capable of interplanar travel).

Brennan explicitly wanted members of the Brass Ring to be up to “asymmetrical amount of shady shit.” It was also funny for Brennan to hear these characters talking about how nasty they were as corrupt city officials at the same time he was emailing Luis to discover Zerxus was “not doing good. He’s like, ‘It could all burn. It could burn today, tomorrow, who knows?’“

It’s hard for Luis to be objective about a character he’s been inhabiting for so long. He wanted to challenge himself with a hard commitment to a full redemption paladin. He wanted to parallel his experience as the lonely First Knight with the connection of the Betrayer Gods’ experiences. He didn’t have any longstanding secrets--the dream happened that day. There were two times he wanted to talk to the rest about his issues: first right after speaking with Purvan, and second was during the Zone of Truth until Nydas scolded him. However, Brennan could see the desire to confess in Luis’s eyes and moved the story forward. :O Lou loved the dynamics of the conversation--Zerxus challenging others on their reticence only to be yelled at by his best friend.

Brennan loved how much Luis got into storytelling. His emails were full of notes about Zerxus’s strong convictions and ways he could be manipulated. Brennan likes that 5e moved paladins from wisdom to charisma casters because it allows for the examination of a morality system based on CHA. Zerxus took the universal truth of “everyone can be saved” and never questioned the following conclusion that “I am the right man for the job.” Luis deliberately built in this toxic trait: “I am going to change you.” However, he also felt it was important to have a fervent, unkillable hope. “Let’s have this person who is the most well-meaning, the goodest person in his own heart, and let’s give him this blind spot.”

Marisha talks about the dissonance between the players knowing the characters are being shady but having to justify them internally because they genuinely believe it’s for the good of the city.

Sam talks about Quay being the opposite: instead, he was a liar all the time; his flaw (figured out during the playing) was that he lied to himself more than anyone else. He couldn’t admit to himself that he just wanted simple things, “to be a gritty indie reporter” and to have a lady, and he hated the bending of truth required to be the Herald of Avalir.

Cerrit was a good dad for that day only--he had years of not being a good dad before this. The implication was that Wrayne and Cerrit were not doing well because he had his eyes everywhere except the house with his family. She took off looking for meaningful work and Cerrit just said, “Okay.” He put some of his fears about being a new dad into the character. Travis said he wanted to be Jor-El who got his kids out of there.

Everyone made character choices which elevated the story. The ties to Vespin & the Betrayer Gods were helpful, but everyone was corrupt in some way except Cerrit. Even Quay is introduced by influencing an election. Brennan didn’t want the viewers’ lesson to be, “that’s what happens when everyone’s bad. Not like me, who’s good.” Having a good character whose attention was just in the wrong place was also a great lesson. Travis found it fascinating that even when playing a good character whose entire job was to investigate at the end of days, he had a hard time pushing his friend the Herald on his obvious lies.

The kids being so cute destroyed everyone. Travis picked a dad character because he wanted collateral damage; the character needed stakes. His favorite superhero is Superman (correct) because he is omnipotent and still chooses to be good (also correct, and I’ve never felt so close to Travis), but he’s also been fascinated by Jor-el, who was so prescient he could see the planet’s impending explosion but couldn’t make a ship big enough to fit all three of them. He talks about building characters with priorities: if the first priority is the threat, the job, the enemy, the second is the family, implying you have then put something above the family. As a new dad, he doesn’t know how to do that: his heart is outside his body now. He wanted to explore that conflict of priorities in Cerrit.

Luis doesn’t have kids of his own, but he likes the pretense--he likes trying to access that part of his imagination. He wanted to have a kid that wasn’t his to parallel the relationship between the Betrayers & mortals (wow!). Zerxus’s child was staying with Nydas’s family (Lou’s idea).

Sam & Aabria very quickly decided they didn’t have kids. “There’s something slightly hilarious about exes who fucking hate each other, and there’s something not hilarious at all about exes with a kid who hate each other.”

Travis is incensed that he missed out on all these coffees with other players to pre-prep character relationships. There was early discussion about Laerryn being Elias’s mom with Evandrin, but it never got cemented. There was some idea of it coming up if Elias were ever orphaned in game.

The city put a lot of pressure on Zerxus to become First Knight because there weren’t many other good options after Evandrin died. They needed the eldritch knight-oracle power of Evandrin to study.

Brennan loves playing kids. “There’s a convenience to orphans” due to their lack of attachment. See: Luke on Tatooine. He loves familial relationships because people are like gems, and certain facets only show up in family relationships (Spy x Family vibes, tbh). Even characters who tried to avoid family still had critical moments: Eadalus and Nydas, Patia and her grandfather.

Nydas was based heavily on John Hammond from Jurassic Park. The goal is not just to make the city great, it’s to make it great and show it to the world forever for the recognition. “I think, in the moment where you killed us--”

Brennan: “I just wanna say something. Matt Mercer made up the Calamity, okay? Matt Mercer made it up, and I’m over here bad-copping it--” Sam: “So you gave birth to us, and Matt killed us?” Brennan: “In a way. I’m in the delivery room.” Lou: “Well, I specifically mean when you killed us with the tree. Which is you. The tree didn’t have to be that wild. It could have just split open. And then in the fourth episode for the first second, AKA two hours, you murdered us ruthlessly. That was you.” Brennan: “All I’m saying is that everyone loves it when Matt says two-thirds of Exandria’s gone, but when it actually starts to happen and we’re making saving throws for an hour of gameplay, all of a sudden people got some shit to say. That’s all I’m saying.”

The moment of death was when Nydas realized he had something of value to lose: a community of people doing great things. The slow moment of Laerryn casting Blight was his slow-mo realization of “uh oh, I might have been sitting on something really important” regarding the prophecy. After that, he had this single-minded impetus to try to mitigate the damage. Brennan loved seeing the prophecy incite a character to panic in real time without a saving throw. He thinks it reflects the differences in character backgrounds & Nydas’s grounded struggle in growing up on the earth vs. the elves’ air-based privileged upbringing.

Brennan thinks Cerrit’s decision to leave is right up there with the Blight & pulling the heart through the tree in terms of critical game moments. He could have completely shifted that fight or even persuaded them to stop. Travis thinks Patia & Laerryn were the no. 1 & 2 targets if he’d been there, with Zerxus behind at 3rd. He OOC thought it was a good chance for them to weaken each other before he had to come in to fight them.

The drive to get the Leywright done was because it was the best timing & would free her up to fix her marriage. “Once we get this done, we could do the little things” like visiting Quay’s home plane.

Sam reads his text history with Aabria. “Lorwyn is her first name. ... My first name is Loquatius Hambrick-Zucker.” Aabria had forgotten she’d named her something else first. Next text: “Maybe I should simplify my stupid-ass last name to something much more fey, since that’s where I’m from. How about Loquatius Seelie, implying that I’m from the Seelie court, like Elmenore. Wasn’t that something you did with Fearne on ExU?” They figured out the relationship timeline & number of years divorced, as well as the faults for the marriage. Aabria honestly thought this was just going to be a bit. They were planning to just be sniping at each other in the background for the campaign, but Sam kept coming at Aabria with genuine emotions. Sam had lightly discussed Quay discovering parts of himself with Brennan over the course of the story, but didn’t know what that would look like. Brennan had his hands off that relationship more than any other.

The scandal with Elena Tuvaris was the mark of the end of Loquatius’s reporter-y honesty.

The speech in episode 4 comes up, oh God. “The most beautiful woman in the world” makes Brennan choke up every time he watches it (apparently hundreds of times, God bless). Sam’s emotion in that moment was fully & completely honest. “I’m not a very good actor. I fell in love with her during the game.” Marisha talks about a conversation with Sam she had during C1 about roleplaying styles. She asked him about influences & callbacks, and Sam said he likes to remember what has already happened like rungs of a ladder. Marisha thinks the speech was a masterclass in being 100% informed by what had happened before. Travis reveals Sam wrote the speech in the shadows of the break in illegible chicken scratch on a legal pad. Brennan was blown away by the sheer gravitas of the speech coming from a character who’d only moments before made the deliberate decision to die, to go down with the ship--and then to transition into the Market of Wonders...

Brennan: “That is a perfect joke. I’ve been lucky enough to see a couple of them in my life. That is a perfect joke. There’s something that [Joseph] Campbell says: ‘comedy completes the realization that drama begins.’ I have not contradicted the depths of my sorrow. I have not contradicted the meaningfulness of my sadness, but I have introduced something profoundly absurd and wonderfully silly, and I am not uncommitted in the moment of doing it. It’s hysterical, and it makes it even more sad.”

Aabria volunteering to be the divorced partner of Sam was the best RPG decision she’s ever made. Marisha loved the sediment layers of trauma.

Marisha wanted Patia to be like a Kennedy. It was hard for her because D&D is built on scrappy ne’er-do-wells, and to be someone integrated in society was hard. Brennan thought she did an incredible job bookending her completely absent parents with “Happy Replenishment, Grandfather.” Brennan didn’t realize how alone Patia was until she said that Laerryn was her best friend. There was a moment where everyone was having connections with everyone and Patia was alone with a statue. That led to the in-game realization that somehow Patia’s parents had failed, which is why she’d erased (or someone had erased) them from her memory.

Brennan consulted with Matt before linking the Gau Drashari with the Ashari. He blew up Matt’s phone in his own planning. He had to negotiate balancing the stakes of Avalir with the Primordials’ historically canon focus on Vasselheim. Matt named the Gau Drashari when Brennan asked if there could be a druid group at the mountain the Betrayer Gods would want to destroy. Matt created the idea of the Tree of Names when Brennan came to him with a story beat he needed.

Sam praises Brennan’s balance of the need of the short-form story against Matt’s gigantically huge world.

Travis heavily commends Luis for starting the story off super strong. Lou had told Luis that Brennan likes to start off with character vignettes, and Luis knew of course that meant he wouldn’t start with him, ha! Luis had asked for an encounter with a Betrayer God, but expected it to be a big distance shadow, not something so intimate that resulted in him caring for the character. Zerxus establishes attachments very very quickly--unhealthily quickly. He fell in love with Evandrin immediately and loved Elias as his son immediately. Lou was agonizing over the PC vs. NPC knowledge of Luis having had this intense encounter with Asmodeus but not bringing it up in game. Luis talks about the crazy intimacy of the Lord of Hells looking like Evandrin, like Elias, being super receptive to everything Zerxus offered. Sam thinks it was a crazy unusual bold choice and he loved it.

Blighting the tree & pulling Asmodeus through the portal were key moments for Brennan. Travis could see Brennan’s face change with delight when that happened. Aabria loves how beautifully Luis played the scenes with Asmodeus because he never asked for anything, never insighted, never Zone of Truthed--he tried to do a bunch of things that Luis mechanically knew would never work instead, like Remove Curse. There were certain things he was willing to question and certain things it would never occur to him to question.

Brennan: “In terms of being a liar, the God of Lies--I don’t flimflam a person with a steel resolve. I do what real evil is, which is I find somebody who already wants to believe. You go, ‘Is there something you’d really like to be true?’ How much does the devil even lie in those scenes? You say stuff, you say, ‘The Prime Deities did this to you,’ and homeboy’s like, ‘Yeah, sure, man.’ It’s so much him just letting you walk to where he wants you to walk.”

Travis was very creeped out by the non-conniving, non-arch evil of the devil by way of Brennan. Marisha felt like she genuinely saw something new about what Brennan is capable of. She is horrified at how manipulative he could be when he wanted. Brennan says it’s important to have high cognitive empathy and low capability of caring when the target is hurt; you have to be very emotionally intelligent and aware of what others feel/want to be successfully manipulative. You just don’t care when they’re wounded by it. Asmodeus’s manipulation of Zerxus wasn’t that he lied to him, it was that he showed up to him wounded.

Brennan had a line if Zerxus had ever questioned Asmodeus on his lies: “Yeah, I showed up to you hurt, because you guys love it when people are hurting.” Luis: “Well, a savior needs somebody to save.”

Aabria was more scared that Brennan’s Asmodeus didn’t have an affectation or accent.

Brennan had so many contingency plans if the characters had failed to end the world. He had plans where the Septarion came after them in case they tried to get the city’s authorities on their side. Sans Blight/pull, Vespin shows up and is evil, the Taxmen turn & it’s a fight at the tree: boring options. Most of the contingencies in absence of hubristic folly involve brute force being responsible for the Calamity instead. Others for the final combat included the Taxmen overwhelming them, and contingencies for if Laerryn went down in the final fight: someone would have had to make an insane Arcana check to finish her work--probably Loquatius.

Travis could not have rolled the 31 without the inspiration, the buff, the teamwork. Cerrit had atoned and focused and killed the evil, but had one thing left to do to make things right. He couldn’t have succeeded without the Ring of Brass wanting to help him escape. “It mattered that we were friends.”

After the orb, Travis texted Marisha in game “What did you do to my daughter?!” because he didn’t realize initially what Patia had sent her. Patia’s knowledge hoarding came about because Marisha mourned the loss of the Library of Alexandria. She asks Matt often what’s happened to her orb. Brennan worries about it too: “The camera stops rolling, and suddenly canon leaves you! I immediately wanted to run and find Matt and be like, is the orb okay? I’m not--I don’t have any say anymore. It goes back to you now. Is it fine? The little library, where is it at?” Marisha loves the fan theory that the library going to the daughter of a master detective was the origin of the Cobalt Reserve.

Brennan would love to come back and play Kir or Maya as an adult. Adult Kir in his mind is huge & jacked.

It was really significant to Brennan that Laerryn used her leywright to save Exandria, and for Zerxus to get his cleansing redemption power to get Vespin back for a moment. He didn’t want the story to say that science, innovation, or compassion were bad; it was all a product of a single moment in a specific inspiration. He loved the bookending of these same focuses of failure being later used for a new, more selfless purpose to great success.

Bolo is dead. Matt is hereafter conscripted into doing Slavic accents for Aeorians. Or Bolo is hit by a wagon. Or Bolo was an Aeorian master spy who later worked on threshold crests. Or Bolo polymorphed into a dragon and flew away safely.

Marisha to Sam: “You were sleeping with a dragon, ha!” Brennan: “Dragon fucking! Thanks, folks!”

We end on a lovely thanks to the production crew, including the graphics team with the overlay degrading. The Calamity is here, but the Calamity is not here forever. Aabria: “So we’re alive?” Brennan: “Five of you are dead. That’s what the dice fucking said!”

And on that cheerful note, we’re out! Is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #exu calamity #calamity spoilers #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts #very long post for ts

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accidentalmistress · 1 year

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Accidental Mistress - Cat's in the Cradle

It's that time again! This post is a little later in the day than I like, but it ended up being a little longer than I thought it would. At any rate, today we have the triumphant return of Quinns and Oliver! And this one has some worldbuilding! Woo!

(For more Accidental Mistress content, check out the Master Post.)

Title: Cat's in the Cradle

Word Count: 3,882

Content and Warnings: snz (nonbinary), fantasy violence, some mild gore (translation: there's monster fighting)

In which Quinns's good intentions earn them a bit more than they bargained for...

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The most basic utility of a sword is to swing it with a degree of force and try to hit whatever you’re aiming at with the sharp part.

Dark blood dripped from the end of their blade and sank into the dirt, leaving a stain that, in the moonlight, resembled a slick of black oil. Their chest heaved with panting breaths as sweat dripped down their brow and neck. The stench of entrails and ichor hung in the air, and they fought the sudden urge to retch that rose in the back of their throat.

The creature was dead. That much was clear as a rush of mana flowed into them, as with killing any monster. Its furred head lay several feet away from its body, frozen in a snarl that bared its erratic tangle of crowded fangs. The rest of the grotesque corpse still twitched as it cooled on the side of the road. The oversized, hand-like paws had too many fingers, too many joints. The massive barrel chest was completely at odds with the slender, almost emaciated, waist and hips. Its skin was a patchwork of fur, scales, and feathers that made no sense, had no pattern, and was dotted with weeping splits and sores.

This was what happened to Devourers eventually. They became an absurd pastiche of whatever they consumed, until the imbalance in their form started to tear them apart. They were then at their most dangerous, attacking indiscriminately and without provocation as they were driven to frenzy by madness and agony.

A barking laugh cut through the tension that clung to them like a suffocating blanket.

“Ha! Amazing! Knight Shaw, you’re incredible.”

They flicked the blood off their sword before sheathing it with a deep sigh.

“You don’t have to call me Knight Shaw. Just call me Quinns.”

They turned to the person sitting on the ground behind them and offered him a hand up, hauling the much taller and broader young man to his feet with a grunt.

“Oh, right. And you can call me Oliver!”

The green and black uniform he wore was nearly identical to Quinns’s own, save that Oliver’s lapel only bore a single gold stripe instead of the three Quinns possessed, denoting their difference in rank.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Oh. Right. Um, then how about you call me Ollie?”

“Let’s just get this thing off the road, please.”

“Oh, sure thing! I’ll grab the front legs if you get the back legs.”

“All right, fine.”

It was no mean feat to drag the Devourer’s reeking corpse, seeing as it was the size of a horse. Even as the two Knights grunted and strained with the effort, Oliver couldn’t seem to keep from chatting with that goofy grin on his face that drove Quinns up a wall.

“It’s a lucky thing -ngh- you got here when you did. -urgh- Another few minutes -hnng- and I would’ve been Devourer chow.”

Quinns made a noncommittal grunt and kept hauling. They weren’t about to tell Oliver that the only reason they’d been there at all was because they’d been tailing him since he left headquarters that night. They couldn’t shake the feeling that if they didn’t keep an eye on him, the naive younger Knight was going to do something stupid and get himself killed—a feeling that turned out to be correct when Oliver decided to take the Devourer head-on, alone, with nothing but a sword and the skills of a First-Rank Knight.

Once the dead monster was safely away from the road, Quinns cast a spell that would immolate the corpse by morning. They tried not to look at its six asymmetrical eyes, dead and glistening in the light of the arcane fire.

“Funny coincidence running into you out here at this time of night, huh?”

Quinns cast a sideways glance up at Oliver’s open, honest face. The taller Knight had a broad grin on his face, the furry, pointed ears on top of his head twitching. The cat ears and tail he bore marked Oliver as an Anima, a type of demi-human with animal features.

“I was just doing my own patrol. Couldn’t sleep, as usual, so I figured I might as well do something useful.”

A hearty clap on the shoulder made them wince.

“Ha! That’s my senior for ya! Always the overachiever! Save some glory for the rest of us, huh?”

They crossed their arms in front of their chest. “I don’t do this for glory. I do it because someone has to. You know, I don’t recall you being scheduled for a patrol either.”

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck with an abashed chuckle, his mismatched eyes, one gold and one blue-green, cast aside like a child caught sneaking a sweet from the kitchen.

“Ah, yeah, you got me. I was doing my own patrol, too. The higher ups hardly ever put me on official patrols anymore! I don’t know why; I don’t think I did anything wrong. Recently, anyway…”

Quinns kept their mouth shut. They were pretty sure they knew the reason: Oliver had quickly built a reputation around headquarters, and not an entirely favorable one. He’d passed his exams less than a year ago and was generally known to be affable and pleasant, yet already he had caused the Knights several embarrassing incidents. Quinns was away at the time, but they heard that during his first patrol, Oliver decided to attempt spellcasting in the middle of the marketplace, spooking a horse that was attached to a merchant’s cart and causing a messy collision with a fruit stand. Fortunately no one was hurt, but the Knights ended up responsible for the damages.

Not long after Quinns was officially introduced to Oliver during a late night sparring match, the junior Knight set up a series of bonfires throughout the training yard, apparently to simulate “being attacked by evil fire mages”, which quickly grew out of hand into a conflagration that set a stack of hay bales and half the company’s wooden training dummies ablaze. When Quinns arrived on the scene, they managed to contain the fire with a magical barrier until the other Knights got enough water to put it out. Quinns could still clearly picture how Oliver’s orange cat ears had been nearly flat with shame against his bright blonde hair as their Captain had chewed him out.

That incident, paired with this fight with the Devourer and a hundred other minor screw-ups on the part of the bumbling, cat-eared Knight left Quinns with the sinking feeling that they weren’t finished cleaning up Oliver’s messes. How had he even passed his exams?

Oliver’s voice brought Quinns back to the present.

“Well, since we’re both out here, why don’t we go patrolling together? I wouldn’t mind the company!”

Quinns blew out a sigh through their nose.

“Yeah, all right. Might as well.”

“Might as well keep him out of trouble, more like…” they declined to add.

As they set off together, walking side by side down the road that eventually led to Chambelf, Quinns remembered the other reason that Oliver quite literally irritated them: Quinns was allergic to cats. They cleared their throat as it started to prickle slightly and managed to avoid coughing, silently praying to any god that would listen that they could get this impromptu patrol over with quickly.

“What do you think a Devourer was doing this close to a town?” Oliver had his hands clasped behind his head and was walking along with his gaze on the starry night sky like he didn’t have a care in the world. Must be nice.

Quinns shrugged.

“It looked like it was dying. They go crazy right before they die, and they’re not exactly stable to begin with, so there’s no telling what it was thinking.”

“Do you think there could be any more around?”

“I highly doubt it. They don’t travel in groups; they’re solitary creatures.”

It didn’t escape Quinns’s notice that when he’d asked the question Oliver sounded a little… excited.

“You’re not actually hoping to run into another one of those things, are you? The first one almost killed you.”

The other Knight chuckled. “Well, okay, maybe not another Devourer, but it might be cool to fight some other kinda monster.”

A scoff of disbelief passed Quinns’s lips. “Seriously? Do you have a death wish or something? Why the hell would you want to fight another monster?”

To Quinns’s surprise, Oliver dropped his arms to his sides and a slightly awkward look came to his face. Was he embarrassed?

“Uh, y’know, no reason… It’s just… I-It’s what Knights do, right? Yeah, we, uh, we fight monsters and protect people, so… Just really excited to do, uh… Knight stuff.”

Quinns regarded Oliver with narrowed eyes and was just about to accuse him of being a terrible liar when an itch blossomed in their nose, so instead they turned to the side and rubbed it against their sleeve with urgent strokes.

“Agh…”

“Hey, you okay?”

“What? -snf- Oh, y-yeah. -snf- I’m fine.”

They thought for certain that their sniffles would give them away, but Oliver seemed to take them at face value and nodded.

“Oh. Okay, good!”

Quinns bit back a sigh. While they were relieved that he hadn’t caught on, it really illustrated just how overly trusting Oliver was. The guy needed to cultivate some common sense before it got him killed.

“You know, I feel pretty lucky right now,” Oliver said, and Quinns wasn’t sure if he was purposely trying to change the subject or if he just always said whatever came to mind. Probably that second one.

“What do you mean?”

Oliver glanced over at them, putting his hands up behind his head again with another trademark grin.

“Well, not everybody gets to go on a patrol with the Quinns Shaw. Actually, you almost always go out alone. Makes me feel a little special, you know?”

It actually took some effort for Quinns to not openly gape at Oliver. Sure, it was true that Quinns usually worked alone, but was that really so noteworthy? Furthermore, why did Oliver hold them in such high esteem? Did they stand out that much? They wouldn’t deny their own skill—they were the youngest Knight to ever achieve Third Rank—but they didn’t exactly go out and do heroic deeds every day. They mostly performed their regular duties, did any other tasks the higher-ups assigned to them, picked up any slack where necessary, and kept their head down the rest of the time. They were so thrown off by Oliver’s comment, in fact, that they were totally unprepared for when the itching in their sinuses flared back up. They froze up, powerless to stop it, before their head snapped forward.

“Etchoo!”

“Whoa, bless you. You sure you’re okay?”

Another rub with the sleeve. “It’s nothing. Thanks… Oliver, I really don’t think I’m as amazing as you seem to think I am.”

“Well, I think you are that amazing. I’m real grateful that you’re willing to spend time with a loser like me, honestly. Feels like you could be doing… I dunno… better things.”

Quinns opened their mouth to reply, but abruptly shut it again as they realized that they didn’t actually know why they concerned themself so much with Oliver. Getting involved with other people only complicated things. Just look at the whole situation with Noelle: if anyone knew Quinns was aiding a witch, they’d be before the Inquisition in irons in less time than it took for Oliver to make them start itching. Keeping an eye on the younger Knight just gave them more work to do and more stress to deal with, so why did they bother? Was it simply to protect a comrade from getting hurt, or were they somehow a magnet for hard luck cases?

They had to say something into the silence that had already dragged into uncomfortable territory after Oliver’s last statement, but no words came to their rescue. No sarcastic quip, no snappy comeback, not even something truthful came to Quinns’s lips. Instead, Oliver’s cat ears abruptly twitched, then flattened against his head the moment before he flung himself bodily into Quinns, pushing them to the ground.

“Look out!”

An explosive frenzy of sound and motion followed. Before they even knew what had happened Quinns was facedown in the dirt of the road. Something blocked the moonlight above, casting a deep shadow in the night’s gloom. Training, adrenaline, and instinct took over. They pushed off the ground, and by the time they were on their feet their sword was in hand. Quinns spun to face what attacked them and briefly froze at what they saw. There stood Oliver, ears flattened, teeth bared in a snarl that showed sharp canines that Quinns had never noticed before. He was face-to-face with a huge reptilian creature: long and sinewy like a massive snake, its hide protected by thick, leathery scales. It had no legs to speak of, and the frilled head with its long snout would not look out of place on a dragon.

A wyrm.

Not quite full grown, but still big enough to snatch up and drag either of them away. Sharp teeth the size of daggers lined its yawning maw, currently held open by Oliver with one hand each on the upper and lower jaws as the creature struggled to make the young Knight its next meal. Oliver’s heterochromatic eyes flicked over to Quinns for the barest moment.

“I can’t… hold it… forever!”

Snapped from their reverie, Quinns tightened their grip on their sword.

“Right!”

With a cry, they ran at the wyrm with sword raised, held in both hands to put their full weight behind it. The wyrm’s hide was too thick for a simple slash to do much damage, and there was no time to cast a spell or perform some flashy move. So Quinns used their sword for its second most basic utility: aim the pointy bit at something you don’t like and shove as hard as you can.

This punctured the wyrm’s thick hide, causing the creature to shriek bloody murder, which was probably warranted given the circumstances. It darted aside, abandoning its attack on Oliver in favor of swiping its lengthy tail at Quinns instead. They leapt back to dodge the blow, the whiplike appendage missing them by inches. When the wyrm did not hit its intended target, it switched its attention back to Oliver, curving the arc of its strike towards the other Knight. He made no move to dodge, standing there with his arms wide open like he was waiting for it.

“Don’t tell me he’s gonna try to—”

With a resounding thump, Oliver caught the wyrm’s tail in the chest and grabbed on, holding it in place. How was he still standing? That strike had to have been powerful enough to break bone. More importantly, though—

“What the Hell are you doing?!��

The grin Oliver flashed them was more appropriate for someone who had caught a prize fish than a guy currently bear-hugging the tail of a monster.

“I got it!”

Quinns watched as a powerful undulation traveled swiftly down the length of the wyrm’s body, and Oliver’s feet left the ground.

“Wooaah! I-I don’t got it!”

The younger Knight was flung backwards, landing heavily against the trunk of a tree with a worrying crunch.

“Ollie!”

Surprisingly, or perhaps less so at this point, Oliver gave Quinns a thumbs up from where he sat at the base of the tree. “Koff! Don’t worry! Koff-koff! I, uh, I’m good!”

“Damn it, just… Just stay there, okay?!”

A guttural growl cut through the night air as the wyrm redoubled its attack, launching itself towards Oliver, still recovering from being thrown.

“Shit,” Quinns swore as they rushed forward, beginning a chant that would cast a protective barrier spell in front of Oliver. Icy panic gripped their stomach as they realized that the wyrm was far too fast.

They weren’t going to finish the spell in time.

With a fluid motion that was unlike Oliver’s usual bumbling clumsiness, the cat Anima rolled to his feet and leapt forward to meet his monstrous opponent. As the wyrm charged, baring its fangs with a horrid screech, Oliver once more managed to grab the creature by the jaws. One step, two—despite the wyrm’s size and strength, Oliver yielded only two steps to its crushing assault. Straining with the effort, he then began to prize the monster’s jaws slowly apart.

Still rushing to Oliver’s aid, Quinns thought for a moment that the other Knight was trying to break the creature’s jaw. Instead, Oliver wrenched the wyrm’s head to one side with a triumphant shout. Confused at first, Quinns then realized that with its head turned they now had a clear shot at the roof of the creature’s mouth.

They turned their run into a charge, both hands on the hilt of their sword as they raised it to eye level. With a rising cry they closed the distance, then thrust their blade deep into the soft flesh of the wyrm’s mouth, piercing its brain. The beast didn’t make a sound. Its long body spasmed with weaker and weaker movements until at last it went still.

Quinns pulled their sword from the monster’s corpse, and Oliver dropped its head to the ground. Within moments, the wyrm’s spent life force poured out in the form of mana, which Quinns felt flow into them. Beside them they heard Oliver gasp.

“Oh my gods, I think… I think I just got mana.”

Quinns raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that usually happens when you kill a monster.”

Oliver looked over at them wide-eyed as a grin slowly stole across his face.

“Does that mean…” He suddenly looked down at his arms in front of him. “Do I get my Mark now?!”

“Your… what?”

“The Adventurer’s Mark! How do I know if I got it?”

Quinns blinked.

Plenty of people in the world became Adventurers, but it wasn’t simply a job title. Slaying monsters, practicing magic, training in certain martial arts—these sorts of things granted one mana. Once a person’s mana reached a certain threshold, they would gain a Mark: a symbol somewhere on their body that marked them as an Adventurer. As one then grew in power, so too would the Mark, growing in size and complexity as proof of one’s skill.

“Wait, are you saying… you’re not an Adventurer yet?”

Oliver shook his head.

“No, I’m not. Or, at least, I wasn’t? Maybe I am now!” He actually started to unbutton his uniform shirt. “Would I feel it? What does it feel like? Does it, like, burn or something? How do I know where to look?”

Quinns had to admit that they were a little impressed. An Adventurer’s Mark was not a requirement to become a Knight, but a person was limited in the skills they could use and the magic they could cast without one, which of course made the job more dangerous. Though rare, it wasn't unheard of for someone to join up in the hopes of gaining their Mark, Quinns had just never met one before. Oliver had guts, that was for sure, and he could clearly take a beating. His eagerness to kill a monster now made a lot more sense as well: monsters granted a large amount of mana, so monster-slaying was often the fast-track to Adventurer status.

Quinns placed a placating hand on Oliver's arm before the other Knight got too carried away with stripping in the middle of the road.

"Whoa, slow down there, champ. I… I can't really describe it, but trust me: if you gained your Mark, you would know."

They watched as Oliver’s expression turned crestfallen, his orange ears drooping as he began to slowly button his shirt again.

“Oh… Yeah, that, uh, makes sense.”

Quinns pressed their lips together before sighing, though one corner of their mouth tugged up in a small smile.

“Hey, don’t let it get you down too bad. You’re well on your way. You’ll just have to deal the finishing blow next time.”

The quickness with which Oliver’s ears perked right back up was nearly comical.

“Next time? You mean… you wanna do this again sometime? Like, you’ll go out with me?”

At that Quinns was unable to stop a chuckle from escaping as they nodded.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to make it sound like a date.”

“A date?” Oliver’s cheeks quickly flushed pink and he waved his hands in front of him frantically. “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that! I-I mean, not that I wouldn’t— if you wanted to! But if not that’s totally fine! Wait, no- I mean, I’m not asking you on a date! Right now. I… I really just meant patrolling…”

He placed a hand over his face, thoroughly red. Another laugh bubbled up in Quinns’s throat, but all that came out was a cough. As the adrenaline that surged in their veins during the battle faded, the allergies it had suppressed returned in full force. They tried to forestall any further coughing by swallowing hard, but the ticklish feeling in their throat stubbornly persisted. Quinns put their back to Oliver and cleared their throat a few times, which only seemed to aggravate the irritation. A series of coughs seized them, which they tried, unsuccessfully, to smother with a hand.

“Uh, Quinns? You okay?”

“I’m f- Koff! Koff! I’m f-fi-...” Their body froze, which meant— “Etchoo! Etchoo! Ugh… I’m fine.”

A rare double sneeze. With a groan, Quinns remembered that Oliver had touched them when he pushed them out of the way of the wyrm’s initial ambush strike. He must have gotten cat hair on them.

“You don’t sound fine.” The cat in question came around to face Quinns, prompting them to take a step back. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?”

Talk about awkward. How do you tell someone you’re allergic to them?

“Uh… I have… Etchoo! … allergies?”

Oliver’s golden eyebrows rose, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern.

“Oh, no… Well, you shouldn’t be outside, then! Come on: let’s get you back to headquarters.”

Quinns felt a firm hand on their shoulder, and suddenly Oliver was marching them back up the way they’d come.

“W-wait, Ollie- Hang on, what about- koff! What about the wyrm?”

“We can inform one of the other patrols, and they can come clean it up. I don’t think anyone’ll use this road anyway, and—” He paused. “Wait, you just called me Ollie!”

“Oh, uh, -snf- yeah… guess I did.”

Slight relief washed over them that he hadn’t noticed them yell it during the fight, but that was quickly squashed when Oliver’s arms wrapped around them in a bear hug.

“Aw, that means we’re friends now! I’m so happy!”

Quinns made a mental note to visit the temple when they got back, because the only explanation they could conceive for the events of the evening and their current situation was that, at some point, they had caused the gods some great offense. Of course, that was assuming that they made it back to headquarters alive, and, given how things had gone so far, Quinns was increasingly convinced they might regret letting this particular cat cross their path.

#accidental mistress #knight errant quinns #cat boy ollie #snz #snzblr #snzfic #snz fic #snzfucker #sneeze fic #snz kink #snz ocs #sneeze kink

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babychoko · 2 years

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🎀𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕡𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤🎀

Part 10

Note: Sorry, I had to reupload this.

A few years earlier, in the late nineties....

Yeah, maybe I should start the first sentence that way. Or maybe not. It makes me feel old. Sorry, but I'm totally reminiscing about the dumbest memories. Like when I was in 5th grade and tried to sneak my mom's expensive makeup to school with me. I wanted to look fabulous, but my mother was not of the same opinion and prevented this. Or when I wanted to play a card game with Fischl and Bennett in the playroom of our school in peace, but Xingqiu and Hu Tao kept blasting a stupid part of a CD loudly, which was confiscated. This was in the late 6th grade.

It was about 4 boys who played detectives and wanted to solve a case in a catwalk. When the models started their catwalk, the background music on this CD was very questionable. I'm wondering what the makers were thinking of running weird pop music with some weird sounds as background music. Hu Tao and Xingqiu seemed to find this totally hilarious, though, and repeated this one part at full volume on purpose. They knew exactly what they were doing. No question about it.

I have to admit that I had to grin at first. Still, it soon got in the way of playing. At some point, Ms.Ningguang came into the playroom and immediately asked them to hand over this 'naughty' CD. I can imagine that at some point she ran out of patience and was annoyed. After all, her office at the time was located in front of the school's playroom and no school employee was going to put up with something like that, having to listen every second. The two of them almost got into mega trouble, had they owned that CD. Lucky that our school logo was on it. Mrs.Nigguang looked at the cover of the CD in confusion, gave a sigh of relief, and finally told them to please listen to something else. And if they put the player on full volume again, that she will confiscate it as well. Then she disappeared into her office.

Right from that moment, those two ruffians appointed her as a killjoy. Especially Xingqiu found that.

But that's also a whole other story. Yes, yes. Me and my stories. After all, I wanted to tell how close we all became friends. And of course how Xingqiu and I met.

I still don't know how I was going to start. So I try not to go into the most specific details. Maybe.

At that time, I used to participate in spelling bee competitions in our year. And not to brag, so far I always won the first place. At first I didn't want to, but many from my class encouraged me to participate. And at some point I even enjoyed it. But it became painful when people associated me with it. Again and again, everyone was sure that I would end up as the winner. However, I always tried to dismiss it, saying that one would never know.

But this brought nothing.

At one competition I was knocked out of the throne. Another boy won and I did not win this time. But I got the consolation prize. A small bag of sweets. I was satisfied with that until I was pitied by many students and whether I was not sad not to have won this time. As a young student with little self-confidence, this used to hit me. I looked at the little winner with blue asymmetrical hair who was descending the stairs of the stage after the award ceremony. It was now cleaned up.

In his hand he held a gift certificate to a bookstore. You could buy 3 whole books with that!

Maybe I had to wait until my birthday to get my books after all.

He then pointed curiously at my bag. "Are you happy with that?"

No way was I going to stand there feeling sorry for myself. "Of course I am!" He then looked at his gift card. "Huh, if that's the case." I nodded with pride and looked at him.

"Then we don't need to exchange. Yet books are so much better! Candy just makes you stupid. Look, you're already holding them. It starts with stupidity and it's already showing on you. Do you really want that?"

I may have been dramatic before, but that stupid statement meant war to me.

"Jerk!" I spat and stomped off. I left the little boy with rosy cheeks confused behind me.

If only I had known then that he actually really wanted the candy and not the gift certificate. Therefore, his master plan was to bad mouth my consolation prize with the hope that I would get scared silly and trade with him right away. He was very rarely allowed to get any candy at home. And books? He had enough of those at home.

Oh boy... I tease him with that memory to this day. It's way too funny to leave out when meeting others!

Who would have thought that from then on we would bicker. Still, we spent time together because I was friends with Chongyun. The two of us were fond of ghost stories. Besides, I knew Bennett and Razor back in 1st grade. We sat next to each other and shared our crayons. Through that, the two of them got to know my friend group. And that's how we became five.

Somehow we got along..despite disagreements. This proved itself as we played with each other as children.

"Can't I choose a game this time? You always get to decide." I whined, jumping off the jungle gym. "I don't feel like rolling around in the mud and my mommy is giving me trouble for it!"

Bennett shrugged. "You're right. What should we play?" I started to smile. Xingqiu rolled his eyes. "Here it comes."

"Be quiet. I want to play house." Some of them groaned hopelessly. "Again? You wanted to do that last time..." Chongyun muttered. He never liked his role.

I pointed to Razor. "You're our dog who disappears every three days and can do flips. You like to eat fish."

"As your dog, I would even disappear forever..." Whispered Xingqiu to himself, but which I heard. I ignored him.

Then I assigned Bennett his role. "You are my fourth husband. But instead of working, you're a househusband who likes to knit."

"But what happened to the previous ones?!" He asked anxiously. His red cheeks quickly disappeared as he realized what I was saying. I left that question unanswered for him. He asks too many questions.

Then I looked at Chongyun. "And you're my baby, okay? You can't walk yet and I still have to feed you my milk."

"Let me be an exorcist instead!" He was tired of having to play the baby. But he was the smallest of us in height and is the youngest. I thought it was cute how rosy his cheeks were and how big his clothes were. His auntie was sure he would grow into it eventually. He did after his growth spurt.

"Then you'll be a baby chasing away evil spirits." Now he should have no complaints.

"And you Xingqiu...uh..are our fisherman. Every day you have to separate stinky fish from the fresh ones. Besides, you're old and you've never been married. You were even ready to marry your super express boat but he even rejected you. As a result, you had to buy a new boat and became a poor wretch-"

Immediately he objected. "That's completely stupid! Why do I get a foolish part? Marry a boat?! Where do you get ideas like that! Let me be a bookseller or a hero instead."

"Then you save us from the stinky fish." I remained adamant.

"Maybe he can play your husband this time?" Bennett suggested. He was probably afraid of what would become of him. I raised an eyebrow.

"Then she would be divorced for the fifth time." Gave Xingqiu annoyed, crossing his arms.

Well, too bad for him. Let him remain a fisherman.

Now I presented myself. "I am a famous and busy mommy, studied uh... four times and got many jobs. Moreover, I live with my husband in a normal apartment with an elevator. Our neighbors, on the other hand, are dull. Now let's begin."

It started with me coming home after work. Bennett informed me that our dog had run away again and that our child would not stop crying. For that, Razor had to hide in a bush and dig, which he liked, and Chongyun had to howl loudly and rub his eyes while doing it. He didn't want to do that at all, or Xingqiu would laugh at him for the rest of his life. I didn't blame him at all and had been understanding even at the grandiose age of 10. Who would have thought.

"Wife, I cooked today. Our son will not starve." Started Bennett and presented me sand ball, served on a wooden platter. He was trying to be a great husband. "Good, but he's just a baby! He can't eat this yet."

I tried to carry Chongyun. But because I wasn't big and strong enough, he had to walk with me. I sat him down on a rock. After that, I turned to Xingqiu once and made sure he was playing his role accurately in the harbor.

He was annoyedly knocking stones against each other and looked totally pissed off. As long as he doesn't make any more snarky comments, that's fine with me. After all, he didn't want to play my husband, so he'll have to settle for this role.

"Heyhey, what are you playing?" Hu Tao was bored and wanted to play along. Explaining our roles to her, she almost laughed herself to tears. "And what interesting role do I get? Give me one!"

"You are the rich and cool aunt. Married 3 whole times, but not divorced. I have to feed Chongyun now, but my agency called. They need a model and they need it now."

"You have to go now?" Bennett, my husband, asked. I nodded and turned to Hu Tao. "So you have to feed my baby now. He needs his milk or he'll starve to death." Little Chongyun definitely didn't seem to want her as his aunt.

"Hmm..okay!" It ended up with Chongyun screeching all over the schoolyard as she tried to feed him. I completely forgot to say that he prefers to drink milk from the bottle and not the other. However, I had to go to the agency, I turned to Xingqiu with a sigh. "Then your second role is our chivalrous hero..." It didn't take a second for Xingqiu to cast aside the stones and try to rescue Chongyun from his crazy aunt.

But when Xingqiu tried to remind Chongyun, he pretended that he couldn't remember. I think this is another reason why he dislikes Hu Tao. Who would want to remember it voluntarily...

But enough with the toddler memories. Now there was a little taste of how badly I got along with him, even though it wasn't always that way. We still invited each other to birthdays and read together.

At some point you grow up a bit and the childish quarrels come to an end. However, I had mixed feelings before that.

As I mentioned, I became really friendly with Xingqiu from 8th grade on.

One day, I got a very disappointing grade for a class assignment. I studied so much for it and tried hard. And still the final grade was not good. I didn't want to go home right away. So I went to the school library and tried to calm down. I hid in the far corner and sat on a bench. All I wanted was calm before the storm, or as they say. But if I had been found like that, it was clear that something was wrong with me.

And I was found like that. By him.

"Are you crying?"

"No..If you're looking for Fantasy, it's not here anymore. Keep looking at the front."

"But you have red eyes and they are very wet." What did he care if I cried? He must have better things to do.

"Do you want me to have dry eyes? You know that kind of thing is not good." I pressed the class paper with the bad grade further on my lap and didn't look at him. "I'll be fine on my own."

"You always help us, don't you? Why can't you be helped?"

"Xingqiu, I'm sure you won't understand..."

"I already can't understand it because you don't explain it to me. Maybe I can help you?"

Completely abandoning what was in my power, I handed him my class assignment. He flipped through it and looked at the score.

"Does that happen a lot in this subject? You have a great teacher..." He stated sarcastically.

"Lately, yes. Ever since we got a teacher change. But my parents don't want to understand. More like my dad."

"But as long as you're getting on.."

"No, it's not like that. My dad is very critical in something like that. And with a grade like that in this subject, I'm not going to get ahead after all."

"Because of just one grade?"

"Yes. See? It's hard for you to understand something like that. You always get excellent grades, especially orally. Yet you babble some nonsense with foreign words and overwhelm the teachers..." Immediately, Xingqiu laughed and gave me back the class work.

"I have to agree with you there..ahaha. Hey- how do you even know that?"

I sniffled and rubbed my eyes once. "Your classroom door was open when I walked by. It just so happens that it was your turn. I heard everything. Anyway, I would never have taken you on as a teacher again and just given you your A's."

He cleared his throat "But now back to the subject...honestly, I get you."

I must have looked at him very stupidly, because Xingqiu sat down next to me.

"Your dad never shows any satisfaction with what you do either, right? No matter what."

"Yes, that's true."

"My father is like that too. I have to hide my real hobbies. Especially how I really am."

"Even though you're super at school?"

"I wouldn't say super, but yeah..." Oh boy, you're modest. But I didn't know then that he had to pretend even at home. That must be very stressful.

"What would your dad say if you wrote a good grade now?"

"He'd say it's supposed to be this way and nothing else."

"You see? Then it makes no difference! Then they are always dissatisfied. You have to study for yourself and not put pressure on yourself."

But if it were so easy not to put pressure on yourself. He took a cloth from his pocket and dabbed the tears from my cheeks with it. "Let's go over the issues together. At least then he'll know it's important to you, okay?"

"A-All right..."

We sat down at a table and looked over the topics together. He gave me the tasks and some that he came up with on his own. Finally, he looked at what I wrote down. "But don't laugh at me, okay?"

"I won't do that! Let's see..."

For a while, Xingqiu was silent and frowned. I told you that I had become bad at this subject!

"All right..." He muttered. Huh..what?

"Show me!" I looked closely at the answers and was speechless. Xingqiu, on the other hand, just smiled.

"See? You can do it. Don't put too much pressure on yourself and don't let a teacher's evaluation affect you."

After school, I met with him at the library. He showed me better tactics on how to handle complicated questions and how I could improve my sentence structure. Since then, my grade actually improved in that subject. You could say that he was a hero.

I realized with time that we were not completely different. We had the funniest sleepovers (when there were no pranks) and experiences camping as a group. And when it came to letting me style them, they didn't deny it. They all ended up with pretty hairstyles- and painted nails. But I had to promise not to take pictures of them and not to tell a soul. But inside I knew they liked it and enjoyed it.

What I didn't expect in life at that time was that I developed romantic feelings for Xingqiu. Because we were nice to each other and more mature? No, at least not that. Then I would have fallen in love with anyone after all....

Never would I have been interested in a romantic relationship and I was too proud for that.

But one night...

They just came.

I had a dream in 10th grade that I had to go to class in the school hallway. I walked through the crowd and excused myself.

At that moment, I walked past Xingqiu. There he was standing with the other school representatives. My gait slowed down and I looked at him.

His gaze turned to me. As he did so, he gave me a smile. My heart was pounding in my dream. It was even as if my heart had opened.

Shortly after that I woke up and was amazed by this dream for the rest of the day. Because those wild pounding heartbeats didn't stop when I was near him. When we talked, it was as if I had forgotten how to talk. I talked to him less and became more reserved. It had even delighted me when he noticed that I wore a different hairstyle or hair accessories.

I even perceived that he was no longer the little boy of those days. He became more decent, his smile more charming and his face more beautiful every day.

But what I didn't perceive was that Xingqiu's behavior in my presence was changing.

If you remember, those were the little gestures with the quotes in my books, for example.

When I told Xingqiu how my feelings came about, he had to laugh. He didn't think that I had started to love him in a dream, of all things. Maybe he was disappointed that he didn't make it in real life? But I think that maybe these feelings have always been there.

It may be that my dream helped to realize the feelings.

But I also found his reason hilarious.

Xingqiu said that he noticed a change in my behavior back then when I asked him. He first had an inkling that I had a crush on him. But he didn't want to sit on his high horse and look at how I behaved in contrast to before, for example, when he put an arm around me.

In the past, as a little girl, I most likely would have given him a nasty stare or a smack.

But instead, when I immediately became quiet and shy, it made something inside Xingqiu. He thought to himself, "Ouh." I laughed my head off at that statement!

He couldn't believe that I, of all people, liked him in a different way and valued my feelings.

Oh well, that's why all those hints from him didn't resonate with me, he just kissed me after the party so I would finally get it. I probably would have still been dense had he confessed to me verbatim.

I told him that such a gesture was a very high risk. He could have gotten slapped in the face or something.

But his answer was only that he was absolutely sure about me.

He had a point there.

Anyway, those were some of our fond memories. I could think about it for hours and tell you more, but that would surely seal my lips.

Because it's late at night now, but I can't sleep. I turned once to the other side and sighed.

I would definitely be happy if we could share more memories together.

All of us, together as adults to elders. Not just as children or teenagers.

Oh, how I wished for that.

But yes, maybe you have to break some habits and grow older on your own. Maybe in a different way, with other people.

The time is approaching when we will all go our separate ways.

And maybe I will experience a heartbreak shortly after.

Masterlist

Part 11

#If you‘re wondering about the CD part..it‘s based on an rl story^^#somewhat like from enemies to lovers i think #how we became lovers #genshin x reader #childhood memories #genshin impact x reader #romance #razor #xingqiu x reader #fanfic #love #chongyun #bennett #Hu Tao

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oneefin · 2 months

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parts: 1, 2, 3, ...

mit mystery hunt 2024 writeup 3: text adventure

so the puzzles in the rest of the earlygame weren't bad, but the next thing that i remember being a really strong highlight was past them. our team unlocked the midgame on saturday afternoon, and after solving a handful of puzzles from it, the Hell, Missouri round unlocked. tons of people wrote about this round being a standout for them and now it's my turn!

i'll discuss the puzzle text adventure from that round in particular. you're not likely to solve this puzzle without understanding the round gimmick, so although the task would be gargantuan, you could try it yourself here: https://mythstoryhunt.world/puzzles/text-adventure (if you get a 404, click "Public Access" and then come back and try this link again).

spoilers for the entire hell, missouri round follow.

so basically, the puzzle is a text adventure containing six classic riddle-type puzzles, but changed in a way that makes them impossible, including:

The river crossing puzzle with the wolf/goat/cabbage but there's an extra vegetable

The 5-ring tower of hanoi puzzle but you only have 20 moves

The bridge crossing puzzle with four people who walk at different speeds and one flashlight, but you get 1 less minute

The fuse burning puzzle but you have to measure 85 seconds instead of 45

so that's wild. it wasn't immediately obvious to us what to do...

...until we're looking at this other puzzle in the round called "chemistry", and we extract "STEAL SCEPTER" from it.

one of the subpuzzles does have a scepter in it. it has some word manipulation spells with stupid names like "ieditedit" which are supposed to be used on the word MUU written on a scroll (it's a thing don't ask). yeah, turns out you can steal it. yoink

so that ieditedit spell takes a word and doubles it minus its first letter, eg "scepter" becomes "sceptercepter", "gödel" becomes "gödelödel", and,

it turns out you can use this on a box labeled "alfa" in one of the subpuzzles to create alfalfa, which is a third vegetable you can bring into the bridge crossing puzzle. but crucially, the alfalfa doesn't need to make it out alive, so you can give it to the goat and ensure it doesn't eat the other two vegetables. easy solve from there!

the things we had to do for the rest of the subpuzzles were also cool and funny, although they were on slightly different lines:

to solve the tower of hanoi puzzle, you have to find more poles to put the discs on. it turns out that chopin and copernicus count as poles (they're polish) and you can have them hold discs for you. incredible gag honestly

the bridge puzzle and the fuse puzzle cheese each other: the fuses serve as extra light sources for the bridge crossing, and crossing the bridge serves as an extra timing mechanism to get 85 seconds.

that scepter puzzle? you have to cast ieditedit over and over and crash the game lmao right ok

but the best moment was definitely the path to the river crossing puzzle. finding that sequence was an amazing moment of gradual discovery for me, having to combine so many elements from so many places. pieces like that are the reason this round was so cool in general.

okay, so i should mention the round in general. the way it worked is that every pair of puzzles had a unique answer, found by bringing some info from one puzzle into another puzzle to extract it. so answers from this round filled the upper half of a matrix:

so it was super interesting! my overarching thoughts on this round in no particular order are:

the connectedness of everything incentivized going for 100%, since we had to touch all of the puzzles in order to solve any one puzzle. this we eventually did, which was very gratifying

on the other hand, it took us a very long time to fully solve any one puzzle - we had 5/6 on multiple puzzles for quite a while

i liked that it was asymmetric - one puzzle (matchmaker) was always the supplier of the info, another puzzle (blanks) was always the receiver of the info, and others were somewhere in between, and i found the variety of that very interesting

the mechanic of the meta was super understandable also, i managed to zero in on the idea pretty quickly without getting stuck, which made for a smooth experience

it wasn't all smooth though - there was stuff on the chemistry puzzle that no one on the team could figure out because this topic tends to be pretty difficult to research. we were stuck trying to find the word CARBONYL for a very long time

it seemed like on the most competitive teams, the unlock timing of this round would have landed directly in my sleeping hours. as such, i'm really happy that i hunted on a slower team so that i had a chance to dig deep into this round. got the most out of it

as i understand, this round was the brainchild of one primary author (devjoe!), so mad props to them for making such a well-knit collection of super neat ideas. it made for a really good mitmh midgame, about as good as i could ask for.

#puzzle #puzzle hunt #mit mystery hunt #text adventure #riddles

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ddubsdiaryblog · 1 year

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Asymmetry

Asymmetry did I spell that right?

Just that I’m listening to a podcast where they raise the issue if one of th eliberal supreme court justices had taken trips off Geo Soros or someone similar. That person would be hounded by the conservative press but more importantly members of the democratic party to such an extent they would be forced to resign.

The reason that Justice Thomas is not forced to resign is because he is not shamed by his conservative colleagues. It has been shown that conservatve shaming does not occur. First in the confirmation hearings the conservative justices have gone through hearings where a democratic appointee would not have survived. Second because Donald Trump has shown conservatives that he doesn’t have to pay attention to that sort of embarassment. So Justice Thomas realizes he doesn’t have to pay attention to it either.

It’s asymmetrical. If he were a liberal justice, he would be shamed out of office but in this day and age conservatives don’t have to follow the rules of politics that apply to liberals.

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self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2 · 1 year

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Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 04x16

On the Head of a Pin

Idk why the fuck Spouse waits to bedtime to watch these, but we literally were couch potatoes all day and couldn’t have watched this when I am more awake? Whatever. I told Spouse this is an important one.

“Castielllll” “Aren’t all the angels specialists in their own way?” “oh boy” “Oh ok” “Cool. Could have used that neat trick in our old apartment” “Who?” “Oh it’s an angel blade stab wound. I wouldn’t have picked up on that without knowing what they look like. Oh there’s wings too?” “Driving down the middle of the road again” “How many times does Dean say he doesn’t want to bury friends?” “That’s the name of a shitty bawfirm” “Didn’t Sam go to pre-law?” “Why is Cas staring off into the wall?” “Is Uriel the funniest bitch in the garrison?” “They all whisper a lot” “That’s some special fkn kind of trap” They’ve met like 3 times and Dean only talks to Cas

“Well yeah. Uriel only talks about Dean in front of him. I wouldn’t trust him either” “He didn’t even laugh or anything when he said that” because he has a weakness - he likes Dean

“He doesn’t know many humans? Do we know if he’s saved any other humans from hell?” “Why would Cas say that? There are so many options. It’s a meaningless comment” Cas is following orders

“Not when he says that” “Is Alastair even that torturable? He’s like thee guy from Hell” It shows how far Dean had to go in Hell and makes the comment Cas said make more sense

“But you already did tango with them?”

🎶demon jizz🎶

“That’s some really loose chain work. There’s a lot of slack in those chains” “His legs are separated but not together.” “Look at the pain in Cas’s eyes” “Probably shouldn’t do a fire spell indoors” “Right in the middle of the map. How convenient” “Yeah keep telling yourself that. He’s doing a really bad job of hiding the begging for it bit” “The girls don’t like it extra needy” We’re finally seeing what Sam has been doing with Ruby. We see how Sam doesn’t think Dean is strong enough.

“Dean wasn’t as close in the face as he was before.” “Oh this is rather unfortunate. I forgot about this part” Reminding Spouse that Dean liked torturing in Hell and had a hard time with that “Idk what receiving revelation means yet” “Post nut clarity Sam” “It’s the first one. Who cares. Don’t let it get to you Dean”

Dean breaking in Hell started the apocalypse shit

“Can’t blame yourself for that kind of shit, Dean.”

“Lot of good your torture did there” Cas was supposed to die there

“So can angels get exorcised like demons? They never did that again, did they?” “That was pretty awesome. Scared the shit out of Castiel there. Oh well” “Do we get angel juice yet?” “It’s the other old guy right?” “I still don’t know what receiving revelations means” “it’s awful cold out there with no hats or gloves” They’re angels

“He’s in a random park and yelling for Anna?” “Maybe not something you wanna say out loud.” “Cas’s mental breakdown doesn’t make sense.” He’s questioning everything for the first time. He was made to follow orders

“What about the water spigot? So now he’s like oh shit ok” “Turn your back on the guy with the angel blade? Really?” “I guess I forgot about this whole subplot” “Might not want to wear a tie” “ouch” “nice” “That’s pretty badass” “Cas didn’t heal Dean yet? Dick” “Oopsie” “I know they’re trying to do the whole asymmetrical ‘you look like shit thing’ but Dean looks like shit” laughed at how dean said they’re screwed

“You all have daddy issues” Let’s recap: We find out Sam is drinking demon blood. He doesn’t Dean is strong enough, in general. We find out that Dean started the apocalypse. We find out that Heaven is corrupted. We find out Cas is considering disobedience, which is punishable by death. Alastair was killed, who was Dean’s torture teacher

#beautifulspouserewatchesspn #supernatural #supernatural s4 #on the head of a pin

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mllekurtz · 2 years

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shadowgast witcher au (wip wednesday)

...originally something quick and easy to take a break from the evil au, has turned into a 20k multichapter instead.

But! The premise is still simple--Caleb is a School of the Cat witcher and Essek is a sorcered and a (former) royal advisor now into hiding. Heavily inspired by the Keira Metz quest in The Witcher 3, and of course by the events of CR campaign 2.

This idea has pretty much grabbed me by the throat and I have spent the last three weeks writing this, so I hope you will enjoy when I start posting (soon!) In the meantime, have a snip!

***

Caleb found the man he was looking for in a hut not far from the village.

He was standing on the doorway of the hut, to be precise, with his hands on his hips and—judging from his expression—a migraine, facing a group of villagers. From what Caleb knew of him, and from what he knew of villagers everywhere, the fact there wasn’t a torch or a pitchfork in sight was surprisingly good news.

“It’s the sheep,” one of the men said. “They are disappearing one by one.”

“And the chickens,” a woman added.

The man on the doorway raised his hands—to silence the bystanders or to conjure a firestorm from the sky, Caleb wasn’t sure. Since no fire rained down from the heavens, it was probably the former.

He was short, with a lithe frame, and yet he had a presence around him that made you think you’d better do as he said. The clothes on him were not elaborate or rich by any definition, and yet their cut and the way they were layered and worn—the asymmetrical hem of his blue surcoat, the bright green sash gleaming in the sunlight, the strings closing the cuffs of his chemise around his wrists, the knitted half-gloves—had purpose and intentionality that went beyond the utilitarian.

He would also appear human at first glance. The illusion spell was convincing, but it shimmered a little around the edges if you looked at it just right.

Confident he’d found the man he wanted, Caleb looked for a spot of shade and leaned against the wooden wall of an outhouse, crossing his arms on his chest as he waited. The weather was getting warmer, but he was comfortable in his light armour.

“I will give you herbs that you may burn in your sheep pens and hen houses to keep the foxes and the wolves away,” said the elf, just as Caleb felt his eyes on him.

It was a quick, neutral gaze. There was no reason for the elf to recognise Caleb, after all, since their previous meeting had been short and not particularly pleasant. Many years ago, Caleb had been summoned to Dol Aine to be received by the Queen herself, who seemed to distrust humans and witchers alike, but didn’t turn her nose up at a spot of good old political assassination. Whatever she had heard about the school of the cat, though, it had been old news by then, and when it turned out that Caleb did, in fact, turn his nose up at games of powers leading to senseless deaths, he had been politely but firmly invited to leave.

The Queen’s advisor had said nothing. Caleb had noticed the dark elf staring at him only once, his eyes looking right through him as if he wasn’t even there. They had been remarkable eyes: Caleb remembered them well, but then he remembered everything well.

As he was considering this memory, the figure went back inside, all but slamming a rickety front door which looked like it could barely take it.

The handful of villagers started streaming back to the muddy Midcopse. “He’s in a foul mood today,” someone said. “Better come back tomorrow.”

Patiently, Caleb let the villagers disappear down the path, nodding when they noticed him but otherwise paying them no mind. Then he stepped out of the shadow.

The door to the hut was unlocked, and no trap sprung when he pushed it open.

“May I come in?” he said to the empty room.

The hut was simple: one main room with a stove, a table and a few cupboards. Some books scattered around, notes that revealed nothing when he glanced at them, a few jars and bundles of herbs that smelled medicinal. To his left, a doorway led to what Caleb imagined was a bedroom.

Since his request to come in wasn’t technically denied, he stepped inside, easing the door closed behind him with more gentleness than its owner did.

The bedroom had nothing but a closet, a table and a small bed (hay, burlap and cotton, from the look and the smell of it) pushed against a wall. No windows, no decorations, no personal effects. Caleb had seen the inside of a few mages’ homes, and he couldn’t see a speck of the opulence he was accustomed to here.

Maybe his man was fully committed to his disguise as a village wizard. Or maybe, like any other mage Caleb had met, he had a trick up his sleeve.

But where had he gone?

Since he somehow seemed to be alone, Caleb dropped to his knees, checking under the bed for pentagrams or trap doors. Nothing there, or on the ceiling or any of the walls. He left the closet last.

It was not the lack of clothes that surprised him; more the fact that it wasn’t a closet at all.

The door opened on a huge room, with a high, wooden ceiling, columns and windows that let the orange-violet light of a clear sunset pour in like water for a warm bath. The space was filled with furniture: plush carpets, padded chairs and, most remarkable of all, rows and rows of hardwood bookshelves. A low, harmonious music played in some corner of this impossible library.

It wasn’t a closet. It was a whole demiplane.

Caleb wasn’t so surprised as to miss a shadow darting quickly from one bookcase to the next.

“Essek,” he called out. He walked over, poking his head from one aisle to the other—the carpets gave pleasantly under his weight, entirely as plush as they looked—until he saw him.

And the glyph on the floor between them, peeking from under a hastily repositioned rug.

“Country life has made you sloppy,” he said, side-stepping the rug to reach the mage. “What was that supposed to do?”

Affecting the look of someone whose plans to get rid of an unwanted guest hadn't just been uncovered, Essek placed a book back into its shelf with a weary sigh. “Teleport you very far away from here.” His tone was too acid for it to be a lie.

Without his disguise, the dark elf looked exactly as Caleb remembered him. The court fineries were gone, true, along with most—but not all—of the jewels. But seventeen years hadn’t brought a single wrinkle on his high, smooth dusky-violet brow, and his figure was as lean and svelte as it had been back then. He was wearing the same clothes as before, which meant they were either real or he liked them enough not to change them. His feet weren’t bare anymore, but encased in a pair of fine slippers. They also hovered a few inches above the floor.

“Essek Thelyss of the Aen Dhuibe, former advisor to Queen Leylas of Dol Aine and current village wizard.” Caleb waited for a response and got none. He huffed in amusement. “You’re a tough man to find.”

The look Essek levelled at him could have melted ice. “That’s the purpose,” he said, “of being in hiding.” His tone was haughty, which somewhat soured the effect of his otherwise pleasantly accented voice.

Raising an eyebrow, Caleb gestured at the room around them. “You’re not exactly keeping a low profile.”

“I don’t let just anyone into my inner sanctum.” Essek turned towards him fully and tucked his hands in his sleeves with fluid, graceful movements. “Usually I place my traps much sooner than that, and with more accuracy, but I was curious to see how far you’d go. I remember you, vatt’ghern.”

Caleb didn’t flinch: he was used to being off-handedly addressed as ‘witcher’—or less tasteful equivalents—by people who didn’t bother learning his name. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be. It’s not a fond memory.” The elf’s lips curled in a barely-there smile. “But, as much as the consequences were painful, I have to admit it was amusing to watch someone say no to Leylas for a change. You clearly went through some effort to find me, Caleb Widogast. What do you want?”

So the Queen’s former advisor did recall his name. Caleb smothered his surprise and crossed his arms, making the leather of his armour creak. “Shall we go straight to business?”

Essek cocked his head, batting his lashes with faux courtesy for good measure. “Are you here for tea and gossip? I’m afraid I’ve run out of the former, and there’s nothing I could tell you about the state of the world that you don’t already know.”

“I find it hard to believe such ignorance, Shadowhand.”

“Don’t,” Essek said, his expression souring. “I don’t bear that title anymore. If I wanted salt rubbed into the wound while everyone around me complains about how tragically we’ve fallen from grace, I would have fled with the rest of the court.”

“How’s Skellige treating your Queen?”

“Ask her.”

“You truly do not know?”

“It seems my imperial messengers are a bit slow to reach Middle-of-Nowhere in War-Ravaged County.” Essek’s manners were evaporating along with his patience. “What do you want, vatt’ghern?”

“Information,” Caleb said hastily, before Essek found another way of teleporting him to the bottom of a lake. “About something called a beacon.”

As soon as those words left Caleb’s lips, Essek became as still as a statue. That alone was an interesting reaction. Caleb waited to see what would follow.

“Let’s talk,” Essek said.

#it's unreal how well they both fit in this universe??#unfair really #anyway i've found a way of channelling my knowledge of the witcher universe without actually writing witcher fics lol #add this to the 'this was going to be a quick one shot' pile #please join me in being obsessed with the idea of cat school witcher caleb #critical role #shadowgast #the witcher #critical role fic #wip wednesday #shadowgast witcher au

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heavensquill · 2 years

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Romione Week 2021 Day 1 - Moments in Time - Flustered Under The Stars

My first ever Tumblr post is proudly written for @romioneweek 2021. Thanks to @folk-melody for hosting and please enjoy the story below. Also a massive thank you to @accio-broom for agreeing to beta my work. Apologies if Tumblr messes with the formatting, I don't know what I'm doing. You can also check out the story on FFN/AO3 Flustered Under the Stars

The sun was beginning to set on Ottery St. Catchpole. A small marquee, tucked away in the corner of the Burrow garden, was filled with a ravenous crowd preparing for a late dinner. As the golden hour tinged the apple tree leaves a rosy orange, a bushy-haired witch stepped out onto the grassy knoll, her feet bare as the blades of grass slid between her toes. Staring out into the vast open fields beyond the garden walls, she breathed in the now cool summer air, grateful for the improvement over the blistering heat from that morning.

Hermione Granger had been at the Burrow for almost a month, and already, it felt like home. Its magical characteristics were unique and so Weasley-esque. Yet somehow, whilst preparing for Bill and Fleur’s upcoming nuptials, she, Harry, and even the Delacour’s had slotted right in as if they had belonged.

Just as the sun dipped further behind the towering and asymmetrical house, a tall, ginger-haired wizard stepped out into the garden. Ron, laden with a stack of bowls under one of his muscular arms, walked towards the marquee. The other was outstretched and gripping his wand as he levitated several steaming roast chickens ahead of him.

“Easy there, Hermione. Hot stuff, coming through,“ he called, flashing her a lopsided smirk and wink.

The aromatic smells of the roasted chickens invaded her nostrils as he drew closer to her position. Memories of the Algerian bazaars she had once visited in France with her parents came flooding back to her. The richness of saffron, the rugged strength of cumin, and the woody undertones of cardamom all left her stomach begging to be gratified. However, another decadent smell lingered in the air, independent of Molly’s fabulous chickens, one that Hermione knew all too well.

Ron. Her Ron. Well, not hers exactly. But now that he had stopped dating Lavender, she no longer felt a tug of guilt from her possessiveness over him.

The tantalising smell of Ron wafted through the air and left her feeling dizzy. His body wash and shampoo made from the green apples that grew in the Burrow orchard, combined with green tea extract, formed his signature aroma wherever he went. This scent, coupled with the lopsided smirks, usually reserved only for her, were enough to make her weak at the knees.

She turned to watch him as he strolled past her into the marquee, unperturbed by the assortment of bowls and roast chickens he was carrying. Her eyes dipped down to catch a glimpse of his firm buttocks, clinging to the navy slacks he wore as they accentuated their roundness. All too soon, the warmth from that morning had returned with a vengeance. With her face heating up and beads of sweat beginning to form across her forehead, she tore her eyes away from his bum and rushed out further into the garden.

Trying in desperation to regain her composure, she looked up at the darkening sky, its orange hue doing nothing to douse the desire within her. Nor did it do anything to push aside the mental image of a tall, flaming haired wizard. With a huff of frustration, she pulled out her wand, opting to channel her feelings into her spell work—something she had done regularly last year at Hogwarts.

Finding herself beaming at the memory of him, his family, and his home, she whispered, “Expecto Patronum.“

A shimmering burst of light erupted from the end of her wand in the form of an otter. For the next few minutes, she stood watching as it swam around the garden with endless energy, her heart expanding when thinking of the memories that birthed it. Too engrossed in the antics of her otter Patronus, she was unaware of someone else within her presence. She gave a start as he laid a gentle hand to the small of her back before drawing her in towards his larger frame. Electricity crackled through her body, the source of which radiated from the patch of skin where he had made contact.

“Professor Potter sure taught us well during the Umbridge year,“ Ron remarked as he watched her otter swim over their heads.

She turned to face him, ready to retort, but only managed a weak squeak as he engulfed her senses once more. His tone was playful, and his scent intoxicating. When he turned his gaze down towards her, a smile played on his lips at the sight of her. Drawn to him, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. The increased contact caused her pulse to race and her breathing to intensify.

She had succumbed to the look of him, the sound of his voice, his electric touch, and his intoxicating smell. All that remained was to get a taste of him.

That final thought was a step too far. Hermione snapped her eyes open and disentangled herself from his grasp. Without a second glance, she raced back into the marquee to take her seat at the dinner table, leaving Ron to watch her with a smug look of amusement on his face.

---

Dinner with thirteen other people was always destined to be a cramped affair. Sandwiched between Gabrielle Delacour and Ron, Hermione struggled to manoeuvre her cutlery as she constantly found her elbows knocking with the ginger-haired man beside her.

The starter course was all it took before her previously flustered state caught up with her. From the moment he had re-entered the marquee and dashed over to grab the seat beside her, he had been polite and attentive to her needs. The voracious version of him that she knew from her previous visits to the Burrow, as well as six years of Hogwarts, was now replaced by a newer, more refined Ron.

Where the old Ron would have dived straight in to pile his own plate and talked with his mouth full, this newer version offered her the first bowl of soup. Later, he had waited until he had swallowed his food before asking her how hers had tasted.

Thrown off by this unusual behaviour, she hastily took another mouthful of the hot soup and spluttered as it seared her throat.

“Wow, careful there. It’s still hot,“ Ron advised, rubbing her back.

His touch sent shivers throughout her body as she fought to stay in control. Mentally cursing herself, Hermione reached across the table to grab a napkin, only to find her elbow connecting with his once more. She yanked her arm back, and it collided with something hard beside her. There was a shattering of glass followed by a yelp of shock. Hermione turned in her seat to see Gabrielle staring daggers at her.

She had knocked over a jug of pumpkin juice straight into the poor girl’s lap.

“I’m—I’m so sorry, Gabrielle,“ she cried. “Let me fix that for you.“

She reached out for her wand on the table beside her before Ron’s large hand stilled her movement.

“Allow me.“

Holding his wand aloft, he gave it two lazy flicks. The first caused the broken shards of glass to fly up from the table and piece themselves back together, leaving behind a perfectly repaired jug. The second mopped up the stains of pumpkin juice from both the tablecloth and Gabrielle’s dress, returning them to their former pearly whites.

“Merci, Ronald,“ giggled Gabrielle, batting her eyelashes at him.

Smiling in return, Ron replied, “You’re welcome.“

A sudden bubbling of rage formed in the pit of Hermione’s stomach at the interaction between the French teenager and ginger-haired moron on either side of her. Shoving his hand away from hers, she picked up her spoon and swirled the soup around in her bowl with more force than she had intended. The contents sloshed up the sides of the bowl and splattered onto her lap.

There were two sharp intakes of breath from the opposite side of the table, and she snapped her head up to see Harry and Ginny both wearing identical looks of pity on their faces.

“Are you okay?“ they both mouthed.

“I’m fine!“ Hermione snapped, trying and failing to keep her voice down.

“What’s got into you?“ Harry asked.

Before she could answer him, Ron spoke up to reclaim her attention, “Try this corn fritter. It’s delicious.“ He held a fork up to her mouth, waiting for her to take the offered bite.

There was another intake of breath from Harry and Ginny, who watched open-mouthed as Ron, for probably the first time ever, offered someone food from his own fork. Her heart was now thundering in her chest. This couldn’t be happening. Who was he, and what had he done with the real Ron Weasley?

Realising she hadn’t yet taken the bite, Hermione looked up at him to find him staring at her expectantly.

“Try it,“ he requested, wiggling the fork in front of her.

Realising she had no choice but to accept, she leant forward and took the mouthful of food on offer. There was a smattering of laughter as Fred and George Weasley had joined Harry and Ginny in observing the humiliating interaction.

Feeling the tears start to form around her eyes, she averted her gaze and mumbled, “Thanks,“ to Ron and stared deep into her bowl of soup.

---

Things went from bad to worse once everyone had started on the main courses—the roast chickens. Now that the sun had set, the cool summer air had since turned harsh and chilly. Despite Arthur having cast a heating charm within the marquee, the warmth it generated kept dissipating due to the open marquee flaps.

Fourteen people trying to eat soup at the cramped table had been hard enough. But the prospect of cutting up pieces of roast chicken and vegetables seemed downright impossible. Up and down the table, Hermione could hear the hurried apologies as people knocked elbows trying to load their plates.

“Hermione, do you want some green beans?“ Ron asked.

“Yes, please.“

Holding out her trembling plate to him, Hermione was astounded when he stood up out of his seat and walked to the other end of the table to ask Charlie to hand him the tureen of green beans. She stared, open-mouthed, as he carried it back to his seat before loading a pile onto her plate.

“Th—thank you,“ she croaked.

“Ron, mate, can you pass those potatoes beside you?“ Harry asked.

“I noticed you’ve got functioning arms and legs, Potter,“ Ron snapped at him. “Get your own bleeding potatoes because these are mine.“

He then piled most of the potatoes from the bowl beside him onto his plate before sliding it with the remaining few over to Harry. He then dived straight into devouring his food.

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione and back again, eyeing the pair with a look of suspicion. With a loud huff at the sight of his pitiful portion of potatoes, Hermione heard him mumble under his breath, “Loves her more than he loves me.“

Choosing to ignore his irritable comment, she turned her attention back to dinner. She had just finished loading her chicken onto her plate when a sharp gust of wind from the flap of the marquee entrance passed over her. It was like she had been plunged into an icy bucket of water, and she gave an involuntary shudder as goosebumps erupted over her exposed skin.

Seeming to spot her shivering from the cold, Ron turned to her with a look of concern.

“Are you cold?“ he asked. “Here, wear this.“

He gave another lazy flick of his wand and waited. Unsure of the exact spell he had used, Hermione looked around for something she could wear. Unable to find anything suitable, she turned to him, ready to chastise him for his shoddy spell work.

“That wasn’t a very—“

Expecting to see an embarrassed looking Ron, she instead turned to find him peering at her with a look of smugness. Without breaking eye contact, he thrust out a hand as a trademark woollen Weasley jumper zoomed into it. It was a deep maroon in colour, with a bright yellow “R“ emblazoned on the front.

With another lopsided smirk, Ron took the jumper and draped it over her shoulders. The effect was so immediate that she thought it had to have been magic. The warmth she felt as it enveloped her was unlike any other she had experienced before. It seemed to emanate from the very fabric of the jumper itself, each strand of wool radiating heat.

Before she could thank him, he reached out and rubbed the sides of her shoulders in an attempt to warm her up even further. His touch was magnificent and caused her skin to flare up. Losing control of herself, she closed her eyes and let out an involuntary moan.

Several gasps from those around her made her eyes fling open. As she peered around the dinner table at the shocked faces, comprehension dawned on her. She had moaned at Ron’s touch. Deciding she needed to get away from him, she attempted to stand up and leave the table. Unfortunately, due to the cramped nature of the marquee, she ended up planting her elbow into a gravy boat.

Fred, George, and Charlie all guffawed at the mishap. Harry and Ron looked sympathetic, whilst Gabrielle seemed to revel in the accident. Feeling humiliated and embarrassed, she remained seated and planned to wallow in self-pity for the remainder of the dinner.

---

As the main course started to dwindle, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Breaking out of her reverie, she looked up behind her to see Ginny standing there, a sympathetic yet knowing look upon her face.

“Mum asked us to bring a few extra things out from the kitchen for dessert,“ she declared.

Grateful for the opportunity to get away, Hermione excused herself from the table and walked out of the marquee with Ginny at her side. The pair walked towards the big oak tree at the bottom of the garden.

“What was all that, Hermione?“ Ginny demanded.

“Nothing,“ she lied, but the tremble of her voice gave her away.

“Was it Ron? I notice he’s been different with you lately.“

Ginny had hit the nail on the head, and with that, Hermione lost all her resolve.

“Everyone was looking at me, Ginny! I am a grown, adult, young woman, and I moaned at the dinner table when he touched me. In front of your parents!“

“Grown, adult, young woman?“ Ginny giggled. “He really has got you wound up.“

Stamping her foot into the grass, Hermione glared at Ginny for mocking her usage of words.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. After Lavender, I thought we would just go back to being friends, and I was okay with that.“

“But?“

“But I want more. I want to be with Ron,“ Hermione concluded with a heaving sob.

“So go be with him.“

“I can’t!“

“Why not?“ Ginny huffed.

“What if he doesn’t want me?“ she choked.

“If you want Ron, you can have him. He clearly wants you too,“ Ginny declared before clapping a hand to her mouth as she peered over Hermione’s shoulder, her eyes widening in surprise.

“She’s right,“ Ron said, stepping up behind her.

With her heart thundering, Hermione spun on her heels and turned to face him. For the first time that evening, he was no longer his cocky and confident self. Despite looming over her with his impressive height, he appeared to slump as he eyed her with trepidation, his nerves evident on his freckled face.

“What’s that, Mum? More bowls for dessert? I’m on it,“ Ginny yelled out into the night before shooting Hermione a look of encouragement and darting off to the house.

Panicking and not trusting herself to function around him, Hermione followed Ginny back towards the house. She only made it several paces before his strong hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

“What have I done wrong?“ he pleaded.

Saying nothing, she instead gazed up into the night sky, willing for a miracle that would dissipate her flustered state. The Devon countryside was amplified in its beauty by a distinct lack of light pollution. Thousands of shimmering stars decorated the skyline for miles around, and she quickly found herself getting lost in their beauty.

Only when his soft voice begged, “Please, Hermione,“ for her attention did she look at him.

His sparkling blue eyes were glistening with moisture as he studied her with an intensity she had never experienced before. Biting her lip and willing herself to have the strength to do what needed to be done, she stepped in towards him. As if on instinct, his arms opened up to welcome her into his chest. Locked in an embrace, they turned together to look up at the starry sky.

For several minutes, they stood and watched, the moonlight looming over them, spotlighting them amongst the greenery. Neither said nor did anything to break the moment, both just basking in the presence of the other.

“You’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been perfect,“ Hermione whispered into his chest eventually.

There was a streak of light above them as a shooting star darted across the vast night sky, creating a momentary blip of hope in the cool night air. Remembering the old Muggle superstitions she learnt as a child, she scrunched up her eyes, ignored all arguments of rationality and made a wish upon the shooting star.

Opening her eyes to look up at him, she asked, “Why me?“

He appeared taken aback by the sudden change in conversation but soon regained his composure. Hermione watched as he reached out a trembling hand and cupped her face, the warmth from the tips of his fingers burning at her skin.

“Because I’ve loved you for Merlin knows how long, and it took the mess from last year for me to realise it,“ he admitted. “I’m sick of pretending that you’re just a friend because Hermione, you are so, so much more than that.“

He took a moment to compose himself before taking her hands in his and declaring, “I love you, Hermione Granger, and I do want you. I’ve always wanted you, and I will always want you.“

Years later, Hermione would argue that it was a coincidence, but for now, she was more than happy to believe her wish upon that star had worked. Leaning forward on the tips of her toes, she placed a delicate kiss on Ron’s lips. His shock was evident for only the briefest of seconds before he deepened the kiss and swept her off her feet.

There was a sudden barrage of hooting and hollering as everyone from the marquee celebrated their kiss. Fred, George, and Charlie exchanged money as if collecting on some sort of bet. Harry, Molly, and Fleur looked to be crying tears of joy whilst being consoled by Bill, Arthur, and Ginny. And even the Delacour’s were clapping and cheering at the spectacle.

Looking drunk and giddy, Ron placed his forehead to hers and whispered, “I wanted to show you how serious I was before you freaked out. But if you come back to the marquee with me, I may even share my dessert with you.“

As he gently returned her to her feet, comprehension of his words washed over her. The things he was prepared to do for her. No longer flustered, standing in the arms of Ron under the starlit sky, Hermione knew she had found her home.

“I’m going to hold you to that,“ she warned him with a playful swat on the arm. “Lead the way, Ron.“

Hand in hand, they walked under the canopy of stars towards a new moment in time.

#romione #romioneweek2021 #fanfic #hermione granger #ron weasley #ron x hermione #harry potter

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arwenkenobi48 · 3 years

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The PDF That Saved My Life - Why I Love “All Tomorrows” With All My Heart

(Content Warning: Discussions of trauma, suicidal ideation and sexual abuse)

*clears throat* So, as some of you may be aware, the past few weeks haven’t been easy, not in the least. I was struggling with serious suicidal urges and feeling extreme anguish towards my own body and soul. I believed myself to be tainted, filthy and all manner of destructive and negative things.

The reason behind this breakdown was due to the realisation that I had experienced sexual harassment and assault multiple times throughout my life, including an occasion last year in which I was groped by an immediate relative. I had been aware of the incident since it happened, but was in denial. I was thinking “It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” But after trying unsuccessfully to repress it, I had to face the facts that she did what she did. I was heartbroken and I’m still deeply saddened by the realisation. Everything just seemed to fall apart and I psychologically imploded, plummeting into a dark pit of worthlessness and childlike sorrow. I felt as if I had been thrown into a mental oubliette; just tossed away and forgotten about on every level. Whenever I wasn’t bawling my eyes out and grieving my lost innocence, I was stress-eating and lying in bed, feeling nothing. Every now and then, I’d receive a short burst of energy, but nothing substantial, and the feelings remained.

Despite all of that, though, I didn’t want to die. A small part of my mind wanted to hold on and ride out these waves of suicidal thoughts. But I also knew I shouldn’t have to be going through this cycle of building up and breaking down, so I finally managed to seek professional help. There’s another thing that also pushed me towards seeking help and eventually guided me out of this dark place, and that’s the work of science fiction I mentioned in the title. All Tomorrows by C. M. Koseman (I hope I’ve spelled that right).

I don’t remember exactly how I came across it, but I think it was the video by Alt Shift X on YouTube that did it. As you can imagine, my dark thoughts weren’t only directed towards myself, but the world at large. I was wondering how life could be so cruel as to let something so horrific happen to me. I saw the thumbnail of that video and I didn’t know what it was. I had vaguely heard of All Tomorrows, but was more familiar with the much more nihilistic Dougal Dixon book Man After Man, and as such I got the two confused. I clicked on the All Tomorrows video, barely paying much attention and dismissively thinking: “oh great another sci-fi dystopia that predicted humanity’s inevitable downfall”.

What that video showed me absolutely blew my mind. As I discovered C. M. Koseman’s intricate worldbuilding science fiction project, I became fascinated and enthralled by the journeys and evolutions of the various post-human species, from the fun-loving Satyriacs and the mellowed out Snake People, to the bloodthirsty Killer Folk and the horrifying Bone Crushers. Yes, many of the stories were very, very sad. The Mantelopes lost everything and devolved because intelligence was so painful. The Striders, Titans and Temptors were all wiped out before they had the chance to truly reach their full potential. The Qu and Gravitals, one could say, ruined everything. But what truly amazed me was the fact that many, many of these stories also contained great happiness.

The Colonials, for example, suffered through the kind of torture that I wouldn’t wish on the Devil himself. Being wedged together into a wall of flesh bricks, all while retaining intelligence. And yet, they managed to turn into the beautiful Modular People and create a utopian society. Yes, the Killer Folk are traditionally violent, but the ones that made the biggest progress were the ones that chose peace over war. The Satyriacs started off as the mindless Hedonists, but were able to use their intelligence to appreciate every moment of their joyful lives. The lowly Worms became the comfort-loving Snake People, always able to appreciate the little things in life. The flattened Lopsiders rose up from the ground and became the proud, tall Asymmetric People. The list goes on, but you get my point.

The point is, even though this future humanity went through the sort of Hell that makes the past few years look tame by comparison, they always managed to rise up. Sure, nothing was ever quite the same again, but they managed to make something new and wonderful out of that. When you cut an orange, you may not have a whole fruit anymore, but you have lots of slices that can be shared with everyone. The best thing you can do is move forward. The future will always hold something better for you, even if that seems impossible. Don’t be afraid to reach for it. The final quote of this incredible piece of sci-fi wiped away the remnants of dark still clinging to me: “Love today and seize all tomorrows.” To me, that meant “Be a kind soul and you can achieve anything.”

This entire story ignited a strong feeling of empathy within me; an emotion I thought I was too traumatised to ever properly feel or express again. I think that was the point. Sure, the many strange post-humans may not look like us, but we cannot deny that they are human and that brings out the best in us. We shouldn’t be afraid to show empathy for our fellow humans. Thinking lowly of what collectively proves to be our best quality, claiming we’re “above” it and aiming to become “bigger than” everything else deprives us of our humanity. Empathy, compassion, love, that’s what makes us truly powerful. If we can learn to love today, the utopian future we all dream of will finally be ours.

Love is something that, from an early age and for over half my life, I was never truly given. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give it to others. Just as the post-humans were able to move forward and rise from the ashes, I fully intend to do the same. I’m safe now. The people who hurt me are gone from my life and will never hurt me again. I’m surrounded by loving friends, in a city I love, attending a university I love, receiving the therapy I need to heal and soon to be medically transitioning too. Even though I still struggle to accept it, I’m learning to love myself as well. I think that’s the greatest love someone can ever feel. If I continue to love each today that comes, all the tomorrows will be brighter and brighter.

And to think this all started because of a PDF about the hypothetical future of humanity. I’m determined to hold on no matter what. Idk if C. M. Koseman uses tumblr or any other social media for that matter, but if he comes across this somehow, I just want to say “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I wouldn’t be here today without All Tomorrows.”

https://youtu.be/-WIk29qtrIo

youtube

(PS: I know I have stumbled and made mistakes on my platform as well. I’m still a little bit unsteady after being in such a dark mental state for so long. I’m sorry about that. I am doing better. Thank you all if you made it this far. I love and appreciate every single one of you.)

#arwen speaks #tw: abuse #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: trauma #all tomorrows #personal philosophy #Youtube #science fiction #the future #empathy #the power of love #queue

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onmykneesforhotdilfs · 3 years

Text

Tilt

Bloom smiled as a butler offered her a crystal glass filled with, what she assumed was, very expensive champagne. She nodded gratefully as she took a sip, and then promptly had to physically stop herself from spitting it right back out. Either the champagne wasn’t as good as she expected or officials of Isis simply decided to serve something from the supermarket, while hoping that no one would notice. Then again, Bloom mused, it might just be that my taste buds are so used to the $10 wine so everything fancier just tastes like crap.

She shook her head and crossed her arms underneath the bustier of her skintone, off the shoulder gown with baby blue flowers scattered across the top and sporadically across the skirt as well. The nude color made her appear more tan than she actually was and while the dress was indeed very beautiful, it was just as uncomfortable. Bloom winced as shifting weight from one stiletto clad foot to another sent white hot signal of pain when one of the wires supporting her bustier stabbed her in the ribs. She bit the inside of her cheek to in order to stop herself from simply burning the fabric.

A cheerful laugh of her best friend snapped her out of her trance. Stella emerged from the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, her asymmetrical off shoulder gown highlighting every curve on her body perfectly. Long purple sleeve blended with yellow in a way Bloom didn’t even deem possible considering how different two colors are. Her other arm, that was completely sleeveless, sported some golden jewelry and floor length gown swept the floor elegantly with Stella’s every step. She was holding the same glass, filled with same champagne as Bloom, with her well manicured fingers. As soon as Stella was within arm’s reach, she grabbed Bloom’s elbow and leaned close to her, smile completely disappeared from her face.

“This stuff is absolutely disgusting.” Stella spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh really?” Bloom asked as smirk slowly rose on her lips. “And here I thought you preferred this,” she lifted a fancy glass into the air, “over my cheap wine.”

“Anything is better than this, for the lack of a better word, crap.” Stella scoffed. “This would’ve never happened on Solaria.” She tilted the glass once again to take a sip in hope it somehow started tasting better but ended up disappointed. Bloom almost laughed at Stella’s expression. “But then again, should I have expected anything more from a planet Diaspro came from?”

Bloom almost winced at the mention of a woman that had the ability to mess up her relationship with Sky like no other. The latest stunt she pulled, thanks to Valtor, only made Bloom more angry at everybody that turned a blind eye to her actions simply because she is a princess. It was only then that the thought occurred to her, that Diaspro might be here and that she might ruin their mission. She glanced nervously around the hall, panicking more the longer she couldn’t find her.

Stella, recognizing Bloom’s ‘two breaths away from having a panic attack' look on her face, was quick to put a calming hand on her shoulder. Bloom recoiled slightly but Stella gripped the flesh lightly in order to ground her. She leaned closer to whisper in Bloom’s ear. “Relax, she’s not here. Apparently her parents don’t allow her to go to events where his highness, prince Sky of Eraklyon, might be present.”

Sarcasm was obvious in Stella’s voice but it served the purpose of calming Bloom to the point where she actually start thinking lucidly again.

Bloom took a deep breath as her shoulders slouched slightly forward. “Thank you.” She whispered to Stella. Then, the actual sentences Stella was saying caught up to her and her eyebrows touched her hairline in obvious amusement. “Still angry at Sky I see?”

Stella snorted and wrinkled her nose at the mention of Sky’s name. “If you were smarter, you’d be angry too.”

“Hey!” Bloom yelped angrily but settled down quickly as she looked away. “I am angry at him.”

“Apparently not enough.” Stella gripped the glass so hard her knuckles turned white. “I mean, what’s up with him suddenly becoming a poster boy and actually listening to what his daddy says?”

“Well, technically, Sky’s meeting with Diaspro or her parents might cause interplanetary scandal between Eraklyon and Isis.” Bloom spoke in Techna's voice.

Stella’s lip twitched. “Still, interplanetary scandal or a potential threat of one never actually stopped him from going against orders before. So my question still remains.”

“Any sign of Valtor?” Bloom asked, hoping to divert the route of conversation.

“I just spoke to Techna. He hasn’t been detected and Amplificarum is still safely locked in the vault.”

“He’ll show up eventually.” Bloom nodded absentmindedly. “He always does.”

“See this, this right here,” Stella pointed to the marble floor and Bloom lowered her gaze to the direction her finger was indicating but furrowed her brows when she found nothing. “This is why Sky should be here.” Bloom’s lips shaped into a thin line whe she realized what she was talking about as Stella continued to rant. “Isn’t he concerned that Valtor might attack and something might happen to you?”

Bloom gasped. “I’m not some… damsel in distress that needs saving Stella!” She scoffed. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

“C’mon Bloom, don’t give me that.”

“Well what do you want me to say Stell? That I’m angry? Disappointed? Fine. I’m disappointed that Sky chose to follow the order from his father when I wanted him to come with me. He most certainly could've found another solution but he did nothing. Instead he left me to face, potentially Diaspro and Valtor alone. There! Was that enough? Are you happy now?” Bloom’s cheeks were red by the time she finished her rant as her chest continued rising up and down in order to return much needed oxygen into her lungs, her exhaustion more due to stress than the actual rant.

Stella smiled and patted Bloom on the shoulder. “There you go. Now was that so hard to say?”

“What?”

“Nevermind that, anyway, be sure to tell him that next time, ok?”

Bloom rolled her eyes but a smile threatened to spread on her face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Mhm, that’s why you love me so much.” Stella spoke with an obvious pride evident in her voice.

“Yeah, let’s just say you’re lucky I do.” Bloom shook her head and grabbed Stella’s elbow as she spotted a familiar short brown hair emerging from the crowd. “There’s Brandon.” She turned to Stella and pointed to where she saw him. “Go bother him for a while.”

Stella pouted and stuck her tongue out playfully at Bloom but strutted off towards her boyfriend, leaving Bloom alone.

With Stella gone, all of Bloom’s physical discomfort came rushing back and hitting her like a rogue train. Her feet ached, her head started hurting from the tight updo and she was pretty sure the wire that poked her in the ribs has punctured her skin. She felt the tender area with her opposite hand as much as she dared and exhaled short puff of air when she found nothing. She wanted to sit down or maybe even lay down and then not move for a few days.

She shook her head and took a sip of her disgusting drink in order to wake herself up. She looked around the dancefloor, automatically finding Stella and Brandon as they swayed to the rhythm. Techna and Timmy were huddled in the corner probably discussing something about technology. Musa and Riven were also in the corner, be it on the opposite side from Techna, which greatly surprised Bloom because Musa was more often than not first on the dancefloor alongside Layla (though club suited them more, but the two always found a way to fit in anywhere), but right now dancefloor seemed like the last place Musa wanted to be. Instead, fairy of music was busy glaring daggers at her boyfriend that seemed to pay little to no attention to them.

Bloom rolled her eyes at the two of them (not that her and Sky were any better) and focused on finding Layla that also, surprisingly, decided to go solo on this mission. She found her talking to some Isis official that she probably knew due to her status. With Layla’s position in mind, bloom turned to finding the last couple but Flora and Helia were nowhere to be found so Bloom assumed they were probably taking a stroll in the garden.

With those in mind, Bloom once again diverted her eyes from the dancefloor and looked at the champagne bubbling in her glass as her thoughts ran over the information she remembered about Amplificarum.

Apparently, the green stone, by physical appearance almost indistinguishable from emerald, had the power to magnify any spells or beams aimed at something. Or someone, Bloom thought. It was most commonly used for protection spells and it generally wasn’t meant for offensive spellwork. Bloom somehow had doubts Valtor will use it for protection spells. The sheer thought of chaos that could potentially happen if such artifact ever fell into Valtor’s, or anyone’s wrong hands, made Bloom shudder all over and grip her champagne glass bit tighter. That can never be allowed to happen. It’s why you’re here. There’s no way he will be able to slip in and out undetected with eleven pairs of eyes looking for him.

Bloom couldn’t deny that Valtor is the most powerful, and quite frankly the most cunning, villain they ever had the pleasure of meeting. What irked her to the point of madness, however, was the fact that Valtor always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

The battles are like chess game. Daphne’s voice sounded in her head. In order to defeat your opponent you have to figure out their strategy. You have to master the art of reading their moves and find a way to turn the odds in your favor.

It was not hard to guess who played certain roles in this game though. She was an amateur, an amateur that was loosing valuable chess pieces battle after battle whereas Valtor was a professional that suffered minor losses here and there but still had the most prized figurines in the game. It didn’t take a professional chess player to see that the odds were most definitely not in Bloom’s favor.

He’ll slip sooner or later. Bloom thought with a smile. Even Valtor can make a mistake. And it takes only a second, a slip of concentration, a lapse in judgment and the board will tilt in our direction. Even an amateur can get lucky and stometimes, the pawn can be the most powerful piece capable of settling the final score, so don’t sell yourself short.

Bloom was so distracted by her mental pep talk that she failed to notice one of the guests approach.

“This stuff they’re serving us,” Bloom jumped as a deep melodic voice rang out next to her. “it’s not something I expected from Isis royal court.”

The stranger came to stand almost arm to arm with her, but she also noticed she was almost two heads shorter than him.

“In a good, or a bad way?” Bloom asked with a frown. The stranger has short brown hair styled to a perfection, not even a hair out of place. From what she could see from the side without being too obvious, she noticed he had perfectly straight nose and an overall boyish appearance.

The stranger lifted one of his eyebrows curiously. “Have you tried that?” He pointed to her glass.

“Yes.”

“And how does it taste?”

“Like a hair conditioner.”

He nodded approvingly. “Interesting comparison. Not inaccurate though. Well Miss, I think you just answered your own question.”

Despite all odds, Bloom found herself smiling at stranger’s antics and clever quips. “I am sorry but I don’t think I got your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.”

Okay, rude.

“Well,” she forced out, “would you be so kind to give me your name then?” Bloom really hoped her smile was more convincing than her words.

“There’s no need, Bloom. You already know my name.” Bloom’s smile vanished as the man finally turned to face her, the unique icy colored eyes she only saw on one particular individual looking straight into her wider-than-dinnerplates blue ones. She felt a bead of sweat roll down the thin column of her neck and disappear into her cleavage.

Bloom gulped.

Valtor smirked.

“You!” was the only thing that came out of her mouth.

He shook his head, his eyebrows set in a frown as he let out a disappointed huff. “That is not my name princess. You might wish to try again.”

“What are you doing here, Valtor?” Bloom managed through gritted teeth.

“Oh so you do remember.” Valtor smirked like the cat who got all the cream. “Good. Otherwise I would have to remind you and I really don’t want to spoil anyone’s evening.”

“As if you need me, or anyone, for that!” Bloom whisper-yelled as her eyes darted desperately across the room, trying to locate her team.

“Now now,” Valtor cooed, “it is not polite to look away from the person you’re having a conversation with, Bloom. Someone should’ve taught you proper manners.”

Bloom gasped as she felt the dragon fire raging in her chest, the effect much more intense than she’s ever experienced before. She swayed slightly on her feet and she raised her unoccupied arm to clutch lightly at her chest. The world was spinning in front of her eyes and just as she feared she might topple over, one of Valtor’s large hands grasped her bicep and the forest fire that burned in her turned into smoldering ashes.

Bloom leaned slightly on her side, Valtor’s arm acting like an anchor as she fought to regain her breath.

“What,” she rasped out, her voice hoarse like she just inhaled smoke, “was that?”

“Just a reminder that you should not antagonize me.” Valtor’s voice was cold and sharp and it made her swallow down a snarky response.

“Is that how you snuck past Techna and me?” The pain was gone but her legs still felt wobbly and she was forced to hold onto Valtor in order to remain standing. “A cloaking spell?”

“If the shoe fits…” he trailed off as Bloom stood up to her full height but despite the heels she wore, Valtor noted with a slight amusement, only managed to reach his shoulders. The glare princess of Domino sent him would make a lesser man run to his mom but it only made Valtor grin. Bloom ripped her arm from his grasp and he had to bite his lip to stifle a chuckle that threatened to escape as Bloom stumbled slightly when he willingly let her go.

Bloom mumbled something that even his heighten senses couldn’t pick up. “I apologize darling, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?”

“I said that if you turn around and bend over, I’ll show you where my shoe fits.”

Valtor was in stupor for a minute, but then a surprised chuckle broke through his lips and his shoulders started shaking from the laughter he tried, and was slowly failing at, keeping contained. “Oh, and she bites.”

Valtor continued laughing sporadically, stopping for a few moments only to start up again. The lines around his eyes crinkled and Bloom found herself fascinated by how melodic and pleasant his laugh sounded. The thought only lasted for a few seconds before Bloom stomped on it with a part of her brain that was still capable of making rational thoughts. Get it together, Bloom.

“If you’re quite done,” Bloom spoke, her cheeks red from rather unorthodox behavior she exhibited few minutes ago, “how about you tell me what are you doing here, finally?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

“Forget it, you’re not getting it!” She turned to face him fully, her eyes boring a hole into the side of his head.

Valtor lifted his eyebrows as if to say ‘Really?’, mockery clear in his eyes. “Are you going to stop me?”

Bloom nodded. “I am.”

Valtor shook his head, smile on his face, amused by her confident tone. She thinks she’s a match for me. Silly girl. He was just about to tell her as much when the music that played as more of a background noise, suddenly became louder, loud to the point it drowned out all the chatter in the room.

Bloom almost jumped out of her skin when the orchestra started playing, loudly. She flinched, however, when she once again felt Valtor’s huge hand on her body. This time his palm was not in a direct contact with her skin but the unusual placement of the said appendage caused her to panic. His hand landed on the small of her back and it was quite persistently pushing her forward, straight onto the dancefloor between other couples.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed through clenched teeth, sparks flaring at her fingertips, beginnings of an offensive spell already forming on her vocal cords.

“We are dancing.” His calm voice only made her more angry and she started struggling against the force pushing her forward.

“I don’t want to dance. Let me go.”

He stopped just short of the line separating area designed for dancing and bowed down theatrically while offering his hand to her. “May I have this dance, Miss?”

Few people closest to them turned around at the sound of his voice and Bloom had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to claw his eyes out. “No, you can’t!” She huffed out quietly instead, her neck and cheeks turning red from anger. “I told you, I don’t want to dance and I most certainly do not want to dance with the likes of you!"

“You wound me princess, truly. I don’t bite… not unless you want me to, of course.”

Bloom’s nostrils flared and flames began to dance in her eyes. What insolence.

“Let’s make a deal, princess of Domino.” He interrupted her just as smoke was about to start coming out of her ears. “You let me have this dance, and I’ll tell you everything you wish to know and I promise to tell the truth.”

“Why should I trust you?” She raised her eyebrows but it was obvious she was interested.

“You shouldn’t.” He tilted his head to the side as smile stretched across his lips. “But that never stopped you before.”

Sea blue met the arctic ice. A spark erupted and the coldness of his gaze melted away. “I give you my word.” His hand was still hovering in the air, his palm opened in invitation as he tilted his head in the direction of the dancefloor.

Bloom weighed her options. For as far as she knew, this could be another one of Valtor’s tricks to gain the information from her instead of vice versa. But the burning questions only he had the answers to kept pressing on the part of her brain that was telling her how much of a madness this was. Bloom sighed. Her hand rose hesitantly and slowly took hold of Valtor’s.

“One dance. That’s all you get.”

“That’s all I’ll need.”

He gripped Bloom’s fingers bit tighter as he lead her into the classic pose with his unoccupied hand placed on her lower back, lower than socially accepted when dancing with someone you do not know, but still in the safe zone that didn’t ask for Bloom to knee him in the balls. His other hand loosened around her fingers and now gently supported her palm. Instead of placing her other arm on Valtor’s shoulder, Bloom gripped one side of her skirt so she could move freely and to minimize contact. He looked down , searching her face, but Bloom turned her head in the opposite direction.

Valtor was never the one to blatantly display his emotions but Bloom’s refusal to look him in the eyes was one thing that almost made him boil. He didn’t know why the daughter of those that defeated him had such effect on him and he didn’t like it. He hated not knowing what was running through her head, especially in the place where he was in an obvious disadvantage concerning numbers of the two opposing teams. During his careful observation, he counted eleven of them, and there was only one of him. Not like any of them actually pose any threat, he mused. The only one that is able to even remotely challenge me is the one I’m dancing with and from this proximity she can be easily taken care of. He studied her posture, how her eyes avoided his at all cost, how her back stood stiff like someone stuck a pole to her spine, how tightly she gripped her skirt as he moved with her elegantly. It was obvious she was not enjoying this. Well then, let’s make you even more uncomfortable.

Without warning, Valtor pulled Bloom closer to his body, upper body completely pressed against hers, one of his legs between both of hers as her head snapped up to look at his cheeky smile. Fire was blazing in her eyes but Valtor didn’t care. He thrived on her reactions. Bloom squeezed the hand that was holding hers in warning but Valtor only gripped the flesh of her hip in response. Devils were dancing in his eyes but to Bloom they looked alive for the first time. Gone was the icy look capable of making even the best trained soldier hesitate before rushing into the battle against him.

He’s genuinely amused by this. She thought. If only be wasn’t having fun at my expense, I might’ve let it slide. Valtor twirled her around other dancing couples, his graceful steps never flattering, and it occurred to Bloom for the first time that she actually didn’t step on his toes even once.

“How are you doing this?” She asked him as he swung her away from himself, only to bring her in again, her back to his front, both of his hands gripping her hips. In her peripheral vision, she saw him rise his eyebrow. “I’ve never been good at dancing.”

Valtor smirked. “Perhaps you’ve never had a good enough partner.”

Judging by the tone of his voice, he was mocking Sky openly so Bloom miscalculated and stepped with the heel of her foot onto his polished shoe. She heard him grunt as, what she assumed was a curse, left his mouth. She smiled. If you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.

“What happened to my parents?” Her next question made him quirk an eyebrow and she saw his eyes widen for a second before he regained his bearings.

“What did Faragonda tell you?” He answered her questions with one of his own and that made her irrationally angry for some reason.

“I asked you first.” She bit her tongue before insults started spewing out of her mouth. She realized long ago that snarky comments only made him more angry so she wasn’t willing to risk her one chance. “Answer me.”

“Do you think you are in position to demand anything, heiress of the lost kingdom?” Anger was starting to creep up in his voice as he dipped her low and snapped her back up harsher than necessary.

Bloom gasped as she suddenly found herself in an almost horizontal position. “You promised.”

Valtor assumed their previous position, except this time he lowered his head so his breath would graze her neck when he spoke. He sighed and goosebumps rose on Bloom’s skin as his hot breath washed over her collarbones and sternum.

“The truth is, I do not know what happened to your parents. I was imprisoned before the final battle. As far as I’m aware, ancient witches were the last to see them.”

Bloom swallowed. “That’s not Faragonda’s version.”

Valtor laughed, though his laugh was somehow bitter. “And you, as a good fairy, believe everything that your headmistress says don’t you?”

“And who am I supposed to trust? You?”

“Have you ever wondered why,” he repositioned her hand slightly as he side stepped to avoid the couple that was directly on a collision course with them. The sudden movement made the lock of Bloom’s hair wiggle out of her bun. “your headmistress send bunch of barely legal girls to suicide missions against the powerful enemies such as myself?”

“Because she trusts us?”

“Because she has an underlying motive.” He continued when Bloom scoffed. “Think about it. Can you honestly tell me your headmistress provides you with all the available information before she sends you off into battles?”

His question made her think of all the times Faragonda withheld the valuable information because she deemed it necessary and she bit her lip as realization hit her. “That doesn’t make her evil.”

“I never said it made her evil.” Smirk once again climbed on her face. “She’s cunning alright, but not cunning enough to be considered evil.”

“What’s her underlying motive according to your expertise?”

He shrugged carelessly. “Everybody needs someone to do their dirty work.”

“Like you have Trix?” Bloom raised her eyebrows in question.

“Don’t remind me.” He groaned. “Those three are as incompetent as they get.”

They danced in surprisingly comfortable silence for a few seconds, Valtor’s capable hands leading them. “You never answered my question.” Bloom said.

“What question?”

“How are you doing this?” She tilted her head slightly to their intertwined hands.

The edge of Valtor’s lips turned upwards. “You know how I’m doing it.”

Bloom frowned in confusion. “No, I actually really don’t.”

“Yes you do.” She was about to open her mouth to protest and to ask him what the hell he’s playing at, but he was faster than her. “You just have to let yourself feel it.”

Bloom’s shoulders tensed as the feeling of her native fire burning spread across her whole body. Okay, this is new.

“Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

Bloom locked eyes with Valtor as he bent slightly in the knees, his hands gripped her hips tightly and her hands automatically came to rest on his broad shoulders, as he lifted her up and then, with care she didn’t know he was capable of, lowered her back to the ground. There was something hypnotic about his eyes and Bloom found herself unable to look away as she fought to regain her breath once her feet touched the ground again.

Whatever moment they shared was interrupted by a horrendous sound of alarm blaring and all the lights going off at the same time as explosion sounded somewhere above them. Valtor smirked as Bloom recoiled from him as if he burned her. Her hands lit on fire as people started screaming around her and moving away from them.

Valtor could hear Bloom’s friends calling her name as they pushed through the crowd of panicked guests.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it!?” Anger was obvious in her eyes and Valtor found himself fascinated as the fiery glow from her hands reflected in her irises. What he would do to have her on his side.

He shook himself out of his stupor as he snapped his fingers, letting his disguise slip off. Short brown hair and boyish look was replaced by long strawberry blond hair and his face morphed back into high cheekbones and sharp jaw. “I would love to continue our conversation,” he raised his arm and shot blindly towards the ceiling, blowing a huge hole into it. “however, I believe that my time has run out.”

Distant flashes lit up and Winx finally emerged from the crowd, sparkly outfits and huge wings on point. Bloom was the only one that remained in her normal attire, her hands showing no sign of burning out anytime soon, as she kept shooting daggers at Valtor with her eyes.

“It’s a shame I wasn’t able to answer more of your questions, Bloom. But I don’t think this is our last meeting.” Valtor grinned, thirty two pearly white teeth on display. “Besides,” he drawled as Icy flew from the direction of the vault Amplificarum was locked in, green gem standing out against the pale skin of her hand. “you know where to find me.”

“Solar energy!” Stella’s arm shot up, spell hurtling straight towards Valtor, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash as his hand rose to absorb the spell.

“Stop in the name of the law!” Armed soldiers and specialists started breaking through, their weapons and swords drawn and ready for a fight.

Valtor’s laugh echoed in the room as he shot off towards the hole in the ceiling, his mouth reciting the spell Bloom was quite familiar with. “Have the taste of your own medicine, princess of Solaria.”

Bloom barely had time to put up a shield as Stella’s own amplified spell was hurled back to them, painting the whole room in white hot glow, forcing everyone to close their eyes so they don’t go blind.

When Bloom finally gathered enough strength to open her eyes, Valtor was nowhere to be seen and people, specialists, guards and her team were slowly climbing back on their feet. Remnants of Stella’s spell still lingered in the air, making the room uncomfortably bright and forcing Bloom to squint.

“He did it again.” Stella spoke next to her and Bloom nodded absentmindedly as Stella continued looking around. “He used a heightened version of my spell… it’s a miracle no one’s been hurt.”

Bloom shook her head. “I don’t think he meant to hurt anyone Stell. He obviously needed a distraction to get away.”

“He doesn’t want unnecessary pain and destruction… you told me that’s what he said to you on Andros.”

Bloom nodded. “I think he managed to fulfill his promise, for once.”

Bloom looked up where Valtor made his exit and couldn’t help but to think that the chessboard once again tilted in his favor.

#sparxshipping #bloom x valtor #bloom x baltor #baltor x bloom #valtor x bloom #bloom #valtor #winx #winx club #winx bloom #winx valtor

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spiderling-space · 3 years

Note

Can I request ficlet of Azul flustered and blushing because female MC saw a photo of Azul when he's a little child. MC is just kissing his face and hug because MC absolutely cannot control her attitude after she saw that picture.

I consider that MC didn’t see Azul’s pic of the elementary school towards the end of Episode 3. I forgot that you didn’t mention them dating and wrote as if they are dating. I only realized it after I finished writing.

Italics indicate thoughts

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul thought he put away or destroyed every picture from his childhood but apparently, he forgot one. When he saw (Y/N) holding a small picture, at first he didn’t understand it was that picture of his so he didn’t mind it but as he got closer, he was able to take a peek at what’s on the frame (Y/N) was holding. He panicked momentarily as he snatched the frame from her hands. (Y/N) was spooked by the sudden movement since she didn’t hear Azul coming into his office. She just was looking at him with widened eyes as she was trying to settle down her heart rate.

Though Azul didn’t see her reaction that way…

Azul thought she was disgusted by his former appearance. “Where did you find this?” Azul asked, wanting to know where he failed at keeping his past secret.

(Y/N) shook her head as if it would make her come to her senses before answering. “Well, I was waiting for you here then my phone gave a battery warning so I looked at your drawers to find the charger. I know I don’t have any right to go through your personal things and I’m sorry for it but… When I saw a glimpse of this picture, I fell into my curiosity and looked at it.”

Azul considered himself to be a “people reader”, someone who knew what the others were feeling, thinking and wanting but he wasn’t able to do that with (Y/N), making him think that dating her blinded his skills. He assumed she would start hating him or at least be disgusted by his photograph but her expression was screaming guilt. Is she feeling guilty for dating me for this long? Something doesn’t add up.

He collected himself and snatched the picture from her hands, moving over to his desk and putting it back to where it was. Neither he nor she spoke after (Y/N) explained herself, creating an awkward silence in the room. Memories from his childhood started to plague his mind as he was thinking that (Y/N) was going to make fun of his former appearance. Even though he had never heard her make fun out of someone before, he didn’t want to risk anything. When she didn’t say anything else and was looking at him weirdly, Azul decided to take the reins. He kept an aloof expression, or in other words business face, and asked coolly, “Now that you’ve seen it, do you have anything to say about it?” He was ready to hear her wanting to break up.

“Well…” (Y/N) was fiddling with her fingers before a sheepish smile adorned her face. “Why were you keeping your cuteness overloaded-self a secret from me?”

Azul was flabbergasted as his appearance disheveled, his glasses slid down on his nose, standing asymmetrical and his dorm uniform getting wrinkled. He was caught off guard but he quickly fixed his image. He didn’t expect to hear someone say his former self cute and on top of that, he could feel his cheeks heating up. He pushed his glasses back to the original place and kept his hand on the bridge as to subtly cover his face. “Eh? Did you get mushrooms from Jade again?” She must have been under influence to speak his much nonsense.

“No? Do I look like I did?” She seemed confused to hear him ask that.

“No, but you speak as if you did.”

It took her a couple of seconds to comprehend what he was referring as her expression changed from confusion to clarity. “Is it because I think your younger self is cute?” Azul didn’t reply but his silence was an answer enough. “Are you kidding me? This is the most adorable version of you I’ve seen!”

She is weird. Who would think that way? “I don’t see your point.”

“Just look at those cheeks! I just want to squeeze and squash them and then kiss them. My goodness, you were the most adorable baby I’ve seen!” Azul was trying to gauge if she was lying or was being genuine whilst she gave him a peculiar look. “Well, I still want to pamper that baby you with kisses but since I can’t do that, I’ll make do with this-you.”

Before he can understand what she meant, she closed the distance between them and pinched his cheeks lightly and gave a quick peck. “Eh? What are you doing?”

“Kissing and being affectionate with my boyfriend. Why? Don’t you like it?” She spoke teasingly as planted kisses on his cheeks.

Azul knew his face turned red both from embarrassment from assuming the worst for his girlfriend and flustered from (Y/N)’s affections. He needed to take control of the situation and disperse the topic. “(Y/N), (Y/N)…” That got her attention yet she was still holding his face between her hands. “Someone might come in and I have an image to keep.” Thankfully Jade and Floyd are busy with the restaurant. He didn’t want to think about how they would react to the situation. “People might assume we are doing something.”

(Y/N) must have been in teasing mode since she let his face go only to hug him and planted kisses all over his face. “We are having a boyfriend-girlfriend time. Isn’t this doing something?”

Oh no, it just got worse! I should at least lock the door so no one will barge in. Azul managed to get his magic pen out despite her bone-crushing hug. He pointed it towards the door and was about to cast the spell but it was opened before he could lock the door.

“Azul, we run out of—“

It was Jade that walked in. Why?

“Fufufu~ I will compensate the missing ingredient with others and I’ll leave you alone.” Just like he came, Jade exited the office swiftly as if he has never shown up.

(Y/N) giggled as the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Now that the cat is out of the bag, shall we continue?”

“Oh before I forget, Azul, if you want to talk about why you reacted to the picture the way you did, know that I’m here to listen.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #octavinelle #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst imagines #ficlet #female reader

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