#i don't have work tomorrow and nature is healing. i need to make a little wizard sketch bc dungeon meshi was so good and also i m going to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katyspersonal · 1 month

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What are your opinions on our Lord and Savior Gywn?

He didn't save SHIT!! He took the perfectly (?) functioning humanity and ruined it! Look at it, it got Hollowing!!

Okay, I am making the 'Marika is a MILF Gwyn' jokes here and there, but 1) Marika is a bit more of a straight up cold and mean person, all things considered 2) Yet she still has enough nuance, and a lot of her actions might be written on reasonable fears and 3) Gwyn is even MORE nuanced than Marika, from what I have concluded so far! Laurence is a similar kind of sinner too. Comparison of the characters that share a trope is helpful for my thought process, so bear with me a little! With Marika I see a more direct disdain and fear before the very nature of life, cyclic and treacherous, uncontrollable, being meant to perish one day but with new life sprouting from it, and thus doing lovely things like shunning Crucible-related lifeforms. With Laurence, we have enough evidence so far that beasthood was not created by Healing Church but something already lingering in the human code after Pthumerians and Loran, so ambition to seize and control it it was risky but understandable!

But with Gwyn, we are confirmed that human nature itself is dark, undesirable an terrifying, as well as how he sorta had the chance to see it 'in action' during uniting with humans to take war on dragons. And also in Dark Souls the cyclic nature of Ages is just a fact, and it would make sense that should Age of Dark come, he and his family would be the first to go as beings of Light. It is a combination of things: his kind being in true danger and not just "risking to lose power", the treacherourness of how political allyship simply works (your today's ally country against the common enemy could tomorrow ally with someone else to start the war on YOU) and simply the not-so-metaphorical horrors of the Dark itself! is not a speculation, the dangers are RIGHT here!

Gwyn messed the natural order of humanity in a way that I personally dislike and express it on multiple occasions: trying to get rid of what's barbaric and dangerous yet natural and not accepting that there is no light without shadow, or life without death. But I also feel sympathetic because he had a legit reason to fear the darkness within men. In is not as much philosophical but a literal concept in Dark Souls lore. He acted out of fear, backed up with a precedent, and it brought the ruin to himself and everyone else. Writing this I'd say he sorta falls for the type of a person I can only like in fiction but resent in reality. I guess I don't need to explain what kind of people this is, paranoid "but for a valid reason", being "preventive" with their drastic measures.. Good intentions path to hell self-fulfilling prophesy blablabla. His specieism doesn't help his case in the slighest. Ironically, all extremely human behavior of him!

(LOL thank you based Goldmask as usual xddd) At the same time, he is not entirely corrupt with the power he seized and used to strip humanity of what was natural for them; he, in the end, committed to what he believed was better for everyone and sacrificed HIMSELF too. I can respect the cunning and machiavellian person who, in the end, is above the vanity of a 'savior' and can give themselves too, not only others. He also did share his power with some humans, showing that he can take kinda benevolent choices even with those he fears. Yeah, part of calculated risk could be there; dude gave the city and his daughter to the Pygmy to, again, preemptively avoid some animosity. But in the case with the four kings, did he HAVE to? Or Seath for that matter, who is a dragon, another species he doesn't like?

I find it hard to detect 'truly' corrupt people in Soulsborne setting in general, and yeah we can fiddle with 'nuanced character' and 'everyone is morally grey' forever and never discover THE big bad we'd love to hate. But, out of those big bads, I think he deserves the benefit of being seen as a way more nuanced character than the corrupt leader the most! It is the case where he should not have done anything, but also should not have NOT done anything.. Soulsborne is eager with placing characters in a position and knowledge where every choice is wrong and they just pick a poison for themselves (and everyone else xd). Jokes about "haha people in power moment" are still mostly jokes for me. He is sympathetic in a way not like I think I'd have done the same (let's be real, I revel in darkness gfjjghk) but in a way where I understand too much to feel negative 🤔

#though you can NOT take my word since I apologize aldrich and mico lmao #dark souls #dark souls 1 #gwyn lord of cinder #I say all this but after writing all this I feel like liking him more xd #closer examination helps!#also sorry this is not my average infodump essay I just need more time!#i try to cram more DS lore in my brain but it gives me 'STORAGE FULL REMOVE SOME BB/ER LORE' error gghhh #again I just need (more eyes on my brain) time xd #also am I tripping or I had ask about Gael too?#i need to fix my inbox its so broken #but also yes advantage of asking my DS opinions is that they're ACTUAL opinions #and not autism xd #ask replies

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casteliacityramen · 7 months

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MUNDAY LORE POST - OATHKEEPERS

I am a member of the Order of Arceus. Of my own volition, I shall duly carry the responsibilities of a guardian of His Majesty's creation.

I will guide existence towards enlightenment. I shall seek to prevent sudden tragedies and shepherd existence towards a better tomorrow.

I swear to place myself in danger for the sake of others--but I shall not interfere with history as it is being made, nor shall I disrupt the natural order.

I will deny positions of political power and relinquish any recognition for my actions. History shall be influenced by my covert actions, not by my overt interference.

I will not partake in actions that will bring harm to the order. I will not become a subordinate of mythical or divine beings, other than His Highest. None of the lesser gods shall know of our work.

I am one of many. I am one of few. I shall go, as His Majesty wills it. This oath, I swear.

Welcome to the Order!

(Your new body and you)

- Scribe J.

If you've ever seen a miracle happen on this planet, you have us to thank for it. Ships lost at sea finding their way back to port, natural disasters with no casualties, pack territory disputes that end in peace, etc.

We're this world's guardian angels, and if you haven't been welcomed into holding such an honorable title, let me be the first in doing so.

You're probably wondering what's different about this new body of yours (other than markings, of course).

Your body has received the blessing of Arceus.

Transformation and camouflage:

Latios and Latias typically have various ways of hiding themselves, but what we have is completely different.

Instead of bending light like you used to be able to, we have the ability to transform between living beings of our choosing. Our bodies will also take the physical attributes of our target transformation. This helps us blend in with creation and understand their physical quirks or mannerisms.

Keep in mind, this also includes biological functions and anatomy, such as nervous systems, skeletal structure, DNA, etc. It might get a little weird, at times.

Regardless of which form you take, you will still be able to perform any psychic-type functions, such as telekinesis or telepathy. However, make sure that your current form is capable of such if you decide to make yourself known. Coming up with cover stories and identities will get easier as time goes on, I promise.

If you desperately need to hide, though, you'll find that your standard light refraction works just as it did as before.

Health, Regeneration, and Lifespan:

Arceus's blessing also grants us a supernatural way of healing ourselves. If you find yourself wounded, hurt, or sick (yes you can still get sick!), your body can find itself capable of getting back to 100% after a full night's rest. Keep in mind, this has actually worked against some of us, as anything potentially harmful that has invaded your body can stay there after a case of your rapid regeneration.

Combat is ill advised. While we have all of these abilities, your offensive capability is still about what you had before you became a member of the order. Yes, comparatively, Lati are strong, but we are not invincible.

Keep in mind: while we are capable of doing much, we are still capable of getting sick, growing tired, and even dying. While we don't physically age, we are still mortal. It's easy to push yourself past the line, so make sure to take care of your body.

Misc.

You cannot get pregnant, nor get anyone pregnant (certain circumstances withholding. You'll have to ask the Big Man Upstairs His Majesty for his blessing under the condition that your offspring becomes a member of the Order.

You are still the assigned sex you were given at birth, but you are more than welcome to request a change. Again, this will need to be sent up the chain.

Please don't get too weird with transformations. We have a strict vetting process, but that doesn't mean that we haven't had our fair share of experimenters try something they shouldn't. Keep it clean.

#munday lore post #pokeask #pokemon ask blog #plot

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hallothere · 8 months

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37 with Lothrandir?

37. Scars/Lasting Marks (this one does, naturally, contain implications of torture)

Here Halbarad ordered him, so here Lothrandir sat.

Dark overhead and underfoot, he took steady breaths in the shadows of the borrowed tent. The Rohirrim had provisioned them as richly as they were able, for theirs was the most imminent errand, and their aid in the form of Aragorn had been great. Mithrandir was already gone with Peregrin Took, and there were many tents that would stand empty tomorrow.

With shaking hands he had put back his own hair in preparation. Idhrien and Mandan would need to see to him. He knew full well the back and sides of his neck would need attention, knew and trusted both healers, but had long been his own healer. He had seen to his own wounds in Forochel, and on patrol. He had no aversion to healers, and would gladly--

Lothrandir pressed a hand to his face. Not gladly. With much reluctance. It is not easy to ask, less so to sit still.

The Wizard could not surprise him with things he himself already admitted, fears he already named. It was one less weapon in Saruman's sheath. Quite easier to scoff and say it was old news once he'd been forced to face it in the quiet. In the dark.

"I know them," he whispered to himself, "I don't fear them. I love them both dearly. ...I swore to Halbarad I'd behave." This last did little to lighten the heavy air, but he felt something better for it. He ought to be fine. They had seen other injured- other tortured- Rangers before him. Dealt with wounds and skittish patients every day. He would be brave, and in bravery still heed those who cared for him.

It was a few minutes more until Idhrien and Mandan came. Idhrien held a lantern aloft and- minus a bruise across her nose almost healed and almost just like his own- looked the same as he'd last seen her. Mandan looked as he always did: as if he'd just crawled out of a thornbush.

"Lothrandir." Idhrien greeted him warmly. He could see her face well enough and she smiled. Well, it was much more a Ranger's grimace than anything else. That put him more at ease than he thought possible.

"You haven't aggravated anything, have you?" And Mandan was as prickly as ever.

Lothrandir shook his head. Idhrien didn't bother to shoot her colleague a dark look but simply carried on. She brought the lantern to the cot and lifted up the spare board from underneath it. This she laid across the slats and set her lantern on. It would service in want of a table.

"Mandan has your salves, and I will hold the needle tonight." She explained it to him calmly, without any appeasement or parental overtones which healers sometimes took. Not coddled, not patronized. It was going better than expected, though with the worst yet to come.

Mandan started removing his own cloak. "You'll need to shed that tunic. I can already see blood through it."

Lothrandir hesitated. The blood betrayed the story he did not want to tell. Mandan didn't seem to notice, and came around in front of him with the cloak outstretched.

"Shivering does make it worse, for you and for us. You can wrap this around anything but your back." Lothrandir looked up. Mandan's normally hooded and placid eyes were alight with something that scared and comforted him. "But if Halbarad's measure is right, we won't be too long in our work."

He took the cloak and set it on his lap before taking a breath. In as quick a motion as he could muster, he pulled the tunic over his head and let it drop to the cot beside him. The wounds on his torso were fewer, and he made no attempt to hide the hasty bandaging from Mandan before he curled his arms into the borrowed cloak. It was still warm.

"Thank you." He said softly. Mandan nodded and returned to Idhrien's side.

Idhrien, for her part, hadn't begun her work without warning. Now that Lothrandir had been made as comfortable as he might, she began to look him over.

"I don't have to tell you how bad it is." There was no gentle rise in her tone to indicate any kind of contradiction or inclination to do so anyway. Lothrandir did not know her well, but he had always liked Idhrien. They had met- and Mandan as well, he recalled- the last time he ventured this southern road. They were both odd, and both sensible in their work.

He could hear the rustling of bottles and fabric and a quiet lament of Mandan's. The words were low, but part of it was a curse on the Falcon clan. He knew now Mandan had not been victim of the caves but part of Saeradan's scouting party. It seemed his stores suffered now. Whether from plunder or need, Lothrandir wasn't so sure.

"We'll clean everything first." Idhrien spoke up again. "We brought clean water and Aragorn has his own supply of athelas we might call upon." In a smaller voice she continued, "I am glad you are back with us as much as him."

None of them gave color to those darker possibilities which almost were. Lothrandir simply nodded. His heart was in his throat, and he brought his cloaked hands up near to his chin. He made to lean on them, but something pulled in his side. Wincing, Lothrandir sat up straighter.

"If the cot is disagreeable, the floor is not much better an option." Mandan, having seen his discomfort, interjected. Lothrandir heard something like a cough, and the dour healer amended. "It is workable. Better, though not much, if that would soothe you at all."

"They are not so fresh." Lothrandir said. He leaned forward again, resting his chin on his hands, and tried to find the least painful posture. "The lash-master did not waver in his work, but the wounding is worse than the mending."

He could practically hear them exchange a glance.

"Even so, our job is to heal you and not wound further." Idhrien sounded a little closer now. "We're going to start on your mending now, in fact." She placed a slightly wet hand on his shoulder, presumably soaked with water. The salve would come after, and it would sting.

"And we will prove this lash-master's 'work' poorer than our own." Mandan uncorked something loudly, and Lothrandir wondered what sort of spirits the Rohirrim offered their patients.

Idhrien actually chuckled at his antics. Long-used to them, she would know his moods better than Lothrandir. It seemed both healers were in good humor, and that as much as anything else lifted a weight from his shoulders. They were not treating him like a thing of glass, like an ornament or delicately threaded lace. No finery, but still, somehow, a precious thing.

"Will they scar?" It was out of his mouth before he gave it thought. Lothrandir pressed his lips tightly together and listened to the silence that descended on the tent. He wasn't sure if it was extended by reticence on Mandan's part, or a smothering glare on Idhrien's.

"They can try."

Something in his chest uncoiled. Melted, even, right off his ribcage and down his sides. Such a small declaration.

Lothrandir nodded. His voice was tight, but with new reason. "Very well. I am ready."

#fic tag #ask games #writing tag #lothrandir #idhrien #mandan #healer duo!!!!#why were they not given interaction devs i beg #apparently i love making up coping mechanisms for lothrandir they just spring from?????? half baked analysis

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terapsina · 2 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @isagrimorie (thanks, this looks fun 🤩).

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1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

120

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

324,790

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'll just copy-and-paste from ao3, cuz I'm not writing all that down.

The Vampire Diaries (TV) (25), Legacies (TV 2018) (12), Person of Interest (TV) (9), Once Upon a Time (TV) (9), Leverage (US TV 2008) (7), Shadowhunters (TV) (7), Doctor Who (2005) (5), Arrow (TV 2012) (4), Merlin (TV) (4), Captain Marvel (2019) (3), 苍兰诀 | Love Between Fairy and Devil (TV) (3), Batwoman (TV 2019) (3), The 100 (TV) (3), Willow (TV 2022) (3), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) (2), The Magicians (TV) (2), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (2), Supergirl (TV 2015) (2), The Originals (TV) (2), Star Wars - All Media Types (2), The Old Guard (Movie 2020) (2), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types (2), The Good Place (TV) (2), Avatar: Legend of Korra (2), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV) (2), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) (2), Charmed (TV 2018) (1), Angel: the Series (1), Wednesday (TV 2022) (1), Star Trek: Voyager (1), Teen Wolf (TV) (1), Star Wars: Rebels (1), Sweet/Vicious (TV) (1), Star Trek (1), Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV) (1), Lost Girl (TV) (1), Legend of the Seeker (TV) (1), Hustlers (2019) (1), Stargate SG-1 (1), Revolution (TV) (1), Sanctuary (Canada TV 2008) (1).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5 Times The Doctor Talked About River Song With Graham (+1 Time The Fam Finally Met Her) - the 13/River fic where Graham finds the Doctor's missing wedding ring and she gradually opens up about her wife.

“Her name was River Song.” She says once he’s already taken a few steps. He stops, turning around, giving her the opportunity to continue or not as she needs. “She was an archaeologist. And a professor. And a criminal. And she was brilliant and absolutely mad.”

“She must have been. Married you didn’t she?” Graham jokes before he can help himself.

But Doc just grins like she agrees and laughs to herself.

Something uncoils in Graham’s chest at seeing Doc’s face regaining its natural brightness, however tinged with grief. The grief isn’t new either, he’s seen shadows of it in her all along but this is the first moment she doesn’t seem to be trying to hide it. Or maybe the first time she’s not trying to hide from it.

The Suspicious Case of Tribbles - the 13/River fic where River tries to "borrow" the TARDIS for lil'bit.

"Don't mind me. Carry on!" The woman says, dropping a bag of something heavy that sounds like a bag of rocks to the floor and hurrying towards the TARDIS controls. "I'm only here to establish an alibi. A short hop over to the other side of the hemisphere and some 38 planetary hours in the past should do it. I'll send you lot right back to him none the wiser. It'll be our little secret."

She's Come Undone and Set Free - Elejah, Bonbekah, Klaroline and Elena/Caroline/Bonnie/Rebekah friendship story that deals with Elena and Caroline getting to be angry and making Damon pay for what he did to them, as well as supporting each other and beginning to heal. (WIP, but there's only 2 chapters to go).

“I want you to know, that’s not why I will always hate you, Damon.” She strengthened her hold on his face at the look of caution that was surfacing at her words, likely because he’d just now been remembering that not that long ago she’d broken his neck. “I won’t even hate you because of the sire bond. Though I wasn’t lying, it felt like being a slave to your every desire, whether or not you actually voiced them. And the funny thing? I’m not sure I’ll ever know how much me there was when I was making any of the choices that lead to Jeremy dying.”

“What’s your point?” Damon asked and grabbed her hands in a vice-like grip that made it impossible for Elena to try again what she'd done nearly two days ago when she'd regained her humanity. But she'd already known there wasn’t a point trying now that he'd be expecting it, so she didn’t fight to escape him.

“She’s my best friend, Damon. I will never forgive you for what you did to her,” she said and did absolutely nothing as Damon’s eyes widened and he tried to turn around. He wasn’t fast enough. He’d been too consumed by Elena to pay attention to any other heartbeats around them, and despite her age, Caroline had always been an unusually fast vampire.

Morai's Call to Hope - my Star Wars, time travel, Snips and Skyguy fic where Anakin gets pulled into the World Between Worlds three days before his Fall, watches as Darth Vader is about to kill Ahsoka... aaaaaaand jumps forward to stop him. (WIP and I'm very ashamed about it, because I loved writing this story and really hope to get back to it someday)

From behind Anakin there comes again a whisper from a different time: ‘I would never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka… never…’

But in front of Anakin comes something else.

‘Then you will die,' the Sith says in direct contradiction to everything Anakin has ever promised both aloud and inside his own heart to the closest thing he’s ever had to a little sister or a daughter. And every single cell of his body rebels against a time where he would ever utter those words to Ahsoka. So even as the red lightsaber ignites in the Sith’s hands, Anakin rushes forward and through the fragile line of a portal separating his reality from theirs.

As the Sith’s lightsaber finishes the arch of its blow instead of encountering Ahsoka’s white dual sabers it’s stopped by the intervening block from a blue lightsaber in the hands of the Anakin Skywalker sixteen years out of his time.

You know who you remind me of? - the 13/River fic where the Doctor is in the middle of hiding under a table with Yaz for plot reasons when she hears the sound of her wife's laughter and is immediately distracted from the mission that brought them there.

The laugh is thick with mischief and a galaxy of secrets.

She knows that laugh.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to. I adore comments and really truly appreciate receiving them, so I do try to respond to them. But sometimes I get into a kind of slump where replying just feels exhausting. And by the time I'm over that, it might have been like two weeks, and then it feels embarrassing to respond.

And sometimes I just don't know WHAT to say.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Last Words. I do have quite a few angsty fics but I usually end them either happily or with an open ending that's got light at the end of the tunnel. But this once I came up with an idea for soulmate-identifying-last-words and then wrote a Korrasami fic for it.

Asami had known that Korra was her soulmate. And like everyone else she was in no hurry to see it proven. And there she might be counted lucky, because she did not learn it for many years to come. They survived the war with Kuvira, and then returned from their vacation in the spirit world, and survived many more battles beyond that. The Avatar lived a long life.

But Asami Sato lived a longer one.

So that has the saddest ending.

Well, that, or maybe what's the point of greater good, which is my Queliot (with a side of Wickoff) story where Julia talks to Quentin during the time Eliot was possessed by the Monster.

She finds him stubbornly looking through the mountain of books, searching for any and every scrap of information on Enyalius they can get. He looks like he hasn’t slept since the moment weeks ago when Eliot managed to surface for those brief few moments to tell them he was alive. Hope’s a bitch that way.

“We need to stop him Q.” Julia says, from behind him.

Quentin’s shoulders freeze in place and he leans forward, hands clenching the spine of the book he’d just been about to pick up.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like I said, I tend to mostly write happy endings. But if I have to pick what I considered as the happiest one, then here's a story that's full of angst in the middle, which made the ending feel even happier because of the contrast.

6 Times Bellamy Tried to Forget That He Was in Love With Clarke (+1 Time He Couldn’t Anymore) - exactly what it sounds like. My big look into Bellamy's head through most of the seasons. Canon almost to the end, where I sharply switch tracks and give Bellarke the happy ending they goddamn deserved.

The first thing he saw as the delinquents pulled aside the sheets of scrap metal to let their two missing people in was Clarke running in front, scraped up but seemingly uninjured. He wished that the relief that overtook him was entirely selfish, that it had to do with the fact that he had his partner back and he wouldn’t have to carry the burden of their people’s lives all by himself. But that was crap.

It was vastly overpowered by the simple joy of seeing that Clarke was alright.

“Hey, we heard an explosion. What happened?” she fired out rapidly as soon as she was in front of him. Face serious and eyes focused entirely on Bellamy, - and it was something that had gotten to be so familiar to him that it almost felt like having her there was akin to getting back a missing limb.

He almost, almost fell to the instinct to pull her into his arms because he was just so damned glad that she was alive that the only thing that saved him was the fact Jasper got there first.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not a lot. But there's been a few occasions where I have gotten some, yes. Mostly the 'this was a waste of my time' variety.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not... really? On a few rare occasions I've written a bit of spice but I don't think that people that read smut would give me more than 2.5⭐ out of 5⭐.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes. When the idea for one strikes. And I don't know if I'd say it's the craziest one, but definitely a fun one is my Stargate SG-1/Leverage crossover where the Stargate Program needs to recruit some thieves.

The Homeworld Security Job. (incidentally this is also the fic that got me the most amount of hate comments).

“I know, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that no one at SGC can go, you need thieves for this mission. And this is a big planet, you guys must have some good ones between those 7.5 billion people. You get me a few of them and I can teach them how to play a wealthy minor Goa’uld long enough to get in and out. But I can’t teach someone to be a good enough liar to not get caught. Not with the time we have here.”

“What do you want us to do, Vala? Grab a bunch of criminals off the street and hope they don’t decide that stealing a Stargate and selling that to the highest bidder instead would be a more lucrative business plan?” Cameron asks.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once. My Lunarry fic the ones that seek and find (six years in the relationship of harry and luna) has a translation into Chinese Mandarin 探寻和发现（哈利与卢娜相处的六年).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. It's always sounded kinda complicated.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I do NOT have a one single favorite ship. But there are a few that I will probably never let go of and those are: Elejah, Swan Queen, Hizzie, Bellarke, Spuffy, Doctor/River, Clizzy, Bering and Wells, Kahlan/Cara, Parker/Hardison, Graylora and DFQC/XLH.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them 😭.

But especially the Star Wars time travel one I mentioned earlier. I love that one so much. And I want to go back to it and finish it. But the stars aren't looking all that bright.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'd like to think that I'm good at getting into characters' heads. Their inner monologues tend to be the easiest part to write (it's the dialogues and surrounding scenes that trip me up).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar. English isn't my first language, so the fiddly parts of the grammar is what I've picked up through osmosis while reading, which isn't exactly... a flawless way to do it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it a few times (mostly in my Clizzy fics, because Izzy's character peppers a decent bit of Spanish in her dialogue on the show) and have nearly always kind of regretted it (I've needed to do fixes nearly every time, had to learn that google translate cannot be trusted the hard way).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

If I remember correctly, then I think that was a very terrible attempt at a BtVS/Stargate SG-1 crossover that has been deleted since then.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is a very predictable answer but that's She's Come Undone and Set Free, I'm just really proud of this story for a lot of reasons. And though there are a few other of my fics I love more than others, this one is just... my favorite of all of them.

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Tagging: @vorpalmuchness, @jennifersminds, @muse-oleum, @amandamonroe and whoever else wants to.

#ask meme #writing #terapsina rambles #terapsina's writing rambles #elejah #thirteen x river #river x thirteen #bellarke #bonbekah #tvd #stargateverse #leverage #stargate sg1 #doctor who #star wars #clone wars #queliot #the magicians

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herpagreens-review · 1 year

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windvexer · 2 years

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Ok, so you want to practice every day?

You know what, valid. So do I. I'm going to make this as short as I can because we have a lot to get through.

You don't have to practice every day to be a "good," valid, powerful, or whatever-you-want witch.

Generic "ground and center every morning, then enchant your tea" practice routines aren't going to be helpful for 90% of us out here. (yes, I wrote similar in the past!)

"Practice" does not equal repeating exercises and casting spells.

When witches say "in my practice," IMO they are using this word interchangeably with "in my path," or "when I actively engage in my path."

Eschew the idea that your "daily practice" is supposed to be a workout routine that is training you for something better.

Embrace the idea that we're actually talking about "practicing daily," aka "engaging with my path on a daily basis." You aren't training for the next thing - you're at the thing already :)

Your daily practice needs to start with what you want out of your faith and practice.

Not everyone wants to be an energy worker.

Not everyone wants to venerate nature.

Not everyone wants to be a spirit-worker.

Not everyone wants to learn herbalism or kitchen witchery

Brainstorm your idealized path. I mean envision yourself in the cutest little cottagecore village, living your total fantasy witch life. What are you doing?

Do you want to...

Be a diviner?

Learn sorcery?

Be a licensed herbalist?

Talk to spirits and make friends with the forest and the flowers?

Help and heal the villagers?

Be a spiritual warrior who battles with evil spirits and aberrations?

Be a world-walker, who goes to unseen realms?

Learn to slip into new skins?

(The list goes on)

Also ask yourself what you don't want. Gods freak you out? Ok, don't interact with them. You want to do pure energy work with very little ritual ingredients? Beautiful. Stand your ground, flip off people who tell you "but witches worship pagan gods and burn candles to their familiars 🥺"

Find ways to start including what is the most important to you in your daily life.

It might be helpful to make a list of the 1-3 things you really want to focus on right now. If it helps, choose a time frame of weeks to try out these practices and see if you like them.

But before you get too far into that:

[Picture ID: A tweet from @rmccarthyjames which reads, "all of my plans for the future involve me waking up tomorrow with a sudden sense of discipline and adherence to routine that i have never displayed even once in my life"]

This, right here, is what we want to avoid.

Please, for the love of God, do not sit down and say, "okay, I'm going to wake up 30 minutes early and do a 15 minute meditation each morning, then 5-10 minutes of energy exercises. Then, I'm going to ground and center (energy work goals). Then during breakfast I'll enchant my food and read about herbalism while I eat (kitchen witch goals). Then, in the evening ---"

I can pretty much guarantee you that almost any activity you have access to right now will be actively draining.

Magical techniques, exercises, and spellwork take energy - just like working out at the gym.

You can work out at the gym and feel energized for the next couple of hours, but then become fatigued in the evening/next day.

You can work out at the gym every day for 5 days, but then suddenly you feel too weak or sore to even get out of bed the next day.

Meditation, grounding, and centering can restore metaphysical energy to your body, and increase your access to it. But it's like eating a protein bar after a workout - you still have to rest and recover.

So if you've tried to stick to "do X, Y, Z" activities every day and failed, ask yourself if you were actually engaging in a strenuous magical workout routine that wore you into the ground.

Instead of choosing "X activity for Y minutes at Z time every day, consider this:

One of the most available ways you can engage in your path is by dwelling within your magical and spiritual worldviews.

Are you an animist? Look for a plant. Think about how it's got a soul. You just engaged with your path :)

Are you interested in energy work? Look for a conversation between two people. Consider the energy flow between them. You just engaged with your path :)

Are you into Traditional Witchcraft? Watch a TV show. Ask yourself how you'd solve a problem on the screen (not necessarily using magic to solve it, just in general). Then, ask yourself how your hag, fetch-beast, or familiar (hypothetical or otherwise) would solve it. You just engaged with your path :)

Are you into religious magic? Look around you. Feel the vibes, feel your feelings, feel your mood. What would your god(s) have to say about it? You just engaged with your path :)

Do you play a lot of video games? Overlay your beliefs onto the game and use events, interactions, and developments as an opportunity to consider your own beliefs (or, with Minecraft, build your own astral temples).

The more you dwell within your magical and spiritual worldviews, the more you "phase in" to the reality that you're a witch and magic is within you and around you.

Over time, constantly engaging with your path in these small ways - through choosing to see the world through the lens of your practice - makes choosing and employing "techniques," exercises, and spells soooo much more relevant and practical.

With that tangent is out of the way, practical tips for how to interact with your path on a daily basis:

Avoid "daily" activities with a high barrier to entry. If you make all these rules and regulations for your own practice, like you have to make a journal entry for every spell and magical activity, and it has to include the moon phase and planetary hour, you're going to be engaging probably a lot less than you think you will.

Choose activities which directly help and support your day to day life.

Tough work environment? Try picking up energy shielding or amulet-making.

Art commissions down? Try learning prosperity or money magic.

Feeling confused or directionless? Experiment with forms of divination.

Lonely? Learn to talk to spirits.

You do not need to create barriers to these things. You DO NOT need to meditate, ground, or center before you make an energy shield. You can just make one right now, actually.

You don't need to learn protection and warding before you practice talking to the nature spirits around you, or bringing protective presences into your sphere.

You don't need to copy down a two-page spell and then write grimoire entries for each correspondence before you can do effective spells and charms.

One of the easiest ways to perform casual, daily magic is to extend regular daily actions into the spirit world.

(For me, the "spirit world" is where all magic happens. Maybe you might call it the etheric, or the energy-double of the world).

Shower to clean yourself - just expend energy to extend the cleaning to your spiritual bodies.

Eat food to gain energy - just expend energy to also feed your spiritual bodies.

Exhale to send old breath away - and at the same time, send away an unwanted thought, energy, or presence.

("Expend energy" can be done in many ways; most often we say "visualization" but you can also dedicate your power to the task through words of intent ["I apply my power to nourish myself thrice over"], mindfulness [staying present in the moment and maintaining focus on your spiritual goal], physical gestures [stirring food clockwise with the knowledge that you are stirring power into it], etc.)

So you've found some free time. What do you want to do with it?

Maybe you started energy shielding earlier this week, and now you're feeling worn out and just want to take a day off.

Hot take: "Hey, I'm too tired to do this magical thing, I'm going to choose something else instead" is engaging with your path :) You didn't forget or ignore your path. You checked in with your magical self, took stock of the situation, and choose the activity of rest.

Be flexible!

I personally say, give all techniques and methods a chance. I myself am not a person where I start out good at things. I'm one of the people where I start out bad at things and get a little better each time I practice.

But if a technique is not vibing with you, or if new concerns arise in your life, there's no need to dedicate yourself to doing something you don't like and don't need for the sake of reaching an arbitrary goal of completion.

Remember, it's not a daily workout until you're good enough to improve your life.

It's improving your life, right now, and each time you do it you get a lil better at it :)

Your path is not subject to object impermanence*.

(*The following is primarily poetic; take it or leave it as you please)

You are what you are and wherever you stand, there your path is around you. To try and curse your path into a quasi-existence where it only appears when you're making energy balls is a terrible fate for a path to be bound to.

It's your friend. It wants to be with you. It doesn't want to be told it's invisible and un-present unless you're staring it in the eye.

A great deal of my early path was taking huge breaks from magical practice - I mean, for months and months at a time. It's called the Crooked Path, not the Straightforward Linear Path Where Expected Things Occur.

Sure, if you're done with witchcraft for a while (or forever), set it aside. Tell your path it's done, closed down, and you'll be back when you're back.

But while you're in, you're walking it. Is your path one where you accidentally forget witchcraft exists and take breaks for months at a time without meaning to? So that's your path. It matches you step for step, no matter where you go.

It doesn't go hungry - you eat and you sleep, and it eats and rests with you. It doesn't feel rejected - it's right there with you. When you touch the doorknob, your path reaches through and holds your hand. When you write a school exam, it traces the pencil lead from the other side. It doesn't matter if you know it or see it - it's there, patient and waiting, watching you with love. All you need to do is fail to believe that your path is gone when you stop paying attention to it.

#witchblr #witchcraft #just starting #daily practice #witchcraft 101 #grimoire #book of shadows #spellbook #theory

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blooberrries · 2 years

Text

「 to build your own pyre 」 — two

— pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

— genre: pro hero au, vigilante reader, e2l

— wc: 3.6k

— rated: sfw

— notes: what is it about enemies to lovers and being chased thru the damn city that appeals to me so much

You’ve always had a strong sense of justice, it’s just that your morals as to how you go about enacting that... tend to err a little on the grey side.

You've got a plan, an agenda; everything you do is done for a reason. And if that damn pro hero with his stupid explosions and dumb crazy grin would just let you be so you can go through with it, that would be fantastic.

Things just don't want to go to plan for you though, it seems.

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“My friends and I will probably pay you a visit at your work, this afternoon.”

You look up from your notes, meeting Mina’s keen gaze from across the room. Oddly enough, her eyes have never once unnerved you. From the moment you met her and glimpsed her black sclera and accompanying warm golden irises, you have only ever thought she was beautiful.

And she is. But she is also loud, and extroverted, and very, very dedicated to trying to merge you into her friend group.

You have been house-mates for a year now, having just begun your second one together. It’s student accommodation that you live in, courtesy of UA University, but the only thing you share is a living area and a kitchen, thankfully. You each have a small en-suite bathroom to yourselves. You did have a third roommate, but she graduated last year so now it’s just you two and an empty room.

Last year, you were friendly with each other, but what you do makes it hard to get really close to anyone. So when she started extending invitations for you to hang out with her and her friends, you naturally declined. Honestly, you expected that she would catch the hint, but unfortunately here you are a year later, her dogged persistence having you that bit closer to breaking and giving in to her request.

From what she just said though, it seems she has thought of a way around your blatant refusal. If she can’t bring you to them, then it seems like she is going to try bringing them to you.

“Oh yeah?” you ask, leaning back from your notes and crossing one leg over the other. “You gonna buy off the deluxe menu?”

Mina snorts, eyes curving as she grins. “Nah, you know me. Small change menu is where I live and breathe.”

It’s not like she is really well off, but you think that sometimes Mina forgets that her internships are all paid. She’s in her last year of coursework, too, so you imagine her payslip is getting quite hefty.

“One of you better buy big or I’m not letting you in the restaurant,” you joke, offering her a smile before turning back to your schoolwork. “And no mates rates.”

There is a reason for your hesitance to meet and befriend her friends, besides the fact you have no life and are used to it being that way. Mina is in the hero course at UA, and as such all of her friends are, too. With what you do as an extracurricular activity, each hero that you become familiar with is an added risk, an added complication.

Mina lets out a playful whine, throwing her hands up in the air before she mutters a joke back and returns to her own assignments.

Try as you might to focus again, you find it a bit hard after that brief distraction. Unwittingly, a hand drifts to your abdomen, tracing over the bruised expanse of your ribs. They’re healing from the other day, but they still hurt like hell. All things considered, it’s lucky none of them were broken. You can’t help but curse Dynamight out in your mind once more — you’ve had to push some plans back a whole week because he couldn’t control his strength when ramming into you like a rugby player on too many steroids.

There is a contract you need to fulfil that is coming up tomorrow night, as well. You’re not in the best state for it, but you’ve definitely carried out less in a worse state than this. Not that you’re proud of it, it’s actually quite sad.

Later in the day, as you’re spraying whipped cream on top of a drink that already has way too much sugar in it, Mina comes bursting through the front door of your cafe with a smile ten times brighter than the sun.

“Afternoon, Bunnykins! I have arrived with crew in tow, as promised!”

You level her with a glare over the top of the coffee machine. She only calls you that because of the way she saw your face wrinkle in frustration when you were assembling a desk one time. She said you looked like a bunny and hasn’t let it go since.

You have since recreated the expression in the mirror, and can’t help but disagree.

“Did you bring the entry fee?” you call out, turning your attention back to the drink in your hand. You press the dome lid on top and place it on the counter with a straw before calling out the name attached to the order. A short man in his mid-thirties rushes up to take it, looking fried and sleep-deprived as hell as he takes it into his trembling hands before darting straight out the door a second later, mumbling his thanks.

“Entry fee? Is this like a club or something? Mina! You didn’t mention anything about a fee!”

“That’s because there isn’t one.” Mina soothes her friend like she’s patting the back of a crying baby, the thought of which makes you snort. You look over and figure it must have been the honey blonde that spoke up, since he looks the most personally victimised.

That, and there is also only one other person that entered with them and he is busy staring at the menu in wonder.

“I thought you were bringing the whole crew?” you ask, actually kind of curious about the discrepancy between what she had boasted earlier and the current situation. Before she left the apartment earlier, she had talked big about bringing the whole group and filling up the cafe.

You catch some warmth entering her already-pink cheeks as she looks to the side, turning her nose up a little. “Yeah, well, plans change. Some of us are cooler than others.”

“Well said,” the blonde affirms, slapping a hand to his chest as he walks over to the counter. He then extends his other hand, smiling brightly. “Denki, at your service. It’s a pleasure to finally meet Mina’s elusive housemate.”

You shake his hand, feeling your cheeks grow hot. Well, you hadn’t expected him to outright call you out like that. From what you can garner from his expression, though, there was no malice behind his words. If anything, he seems the type to speak before thinking.

Well, Mina did also tell you that some of her friends aren’t the brightest bulbs on the shelf.

“This place is beautiful.”

Another voice breaks into the conversation, and you look over to see Mina’s other friend wandering over with stars in his eyes. They’re not just on the menu now, but sweeping over the whole cafe and taking in the verdant greenery hanging from the walls and ceilings.

He halts when he reaches where you have all congregated at the counter – you take a moment to be thankful it’s near the end of the day and there are no customers streaming in and waiting to order behind them. He offers you a smile. “Are these all real plants?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unable to help the soft twinge behind your ribs. “My sister’s quirk works with plants. There used to be more, but she’s not able to come out as often anymore so it’s just me taking care of them. Needless to say, I’m not as good as her.”

The tall man rushes to amend, apparently feeling as though he has made a misstep. His hands are out in a placating manner as he rushes, “No, no it’s still so wonderful! Stepping in here is like a breath of fresh air. Plus, they all seem really happy and healthy, so…”

You keep a surveying gaze on him as he speaks, and come to the conclusion very quickly that this boy is a sweetheart. When his rambling fades out, you poke his palm and smile.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Mina is exclaiming, “Okay, now that’s settled, time for introductions! Everyone, this is my beloved housemate Bibbi! That isn’t her birth name, but I like this one better and she doesn’t mind it, so that’s what we are going with.”

The two men by her side seem somewhat bewildered, but you’re honestly used to it and it’s not as bad as it could be, all things considered. Plus, of all the nicknames you’ve ever gone by, this is the cutest.

Even if it is also rooted in her comparison of you to a rabbit.

“Bibbi, you’ve met Denki already. This bean sprout is Hanta, probably the only relatively normal member of our group.”

“Hey!” Denki protests, face scrunching.

Mina shrugs, patting the blonde on the head. It’s as she does so that you notice the black streaks through the front of his hair, which compliment his leather jacket and boots quite nicely. “Sorry dude, you know it’s true.”

Denki looks like he is about to protest, but upon thinking further upon it seems to accept it. He shrugs, turning his attention to the menu above your heads.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” you say, somewhat belatedly. “What did you want to drink? I’m sure Mina told you its her shout…?”

Scandalised, Mina sends you a look of panic as the two boys whoop beside her in glee. You can’t help the sly smile that creeps onto your lips. There, now you’re even for her calling you bunnykins, of all things. She doesn’t even know what your quirk is!

She must figure that it’s easier to roll with it than it is to fight it, because she lets out a sigh and lets her eyes peruse the menu.

“Alright, for me I’ll have an iced vanilla latte. Can you add an extra shot too, please?”

Smiling, you enter her order in, along with the orders of her companions when they are ready. The damage to her coffers isn’t too bad, to be honest, but still she sulks the whole way to her table in the corner. It makes you giggle while you go about making their orders.

It isn’t long before you’re walking over there, a large tray in your hold with their drinks and pastries displayed neatly on top.

“So, where are the rest of your friends?”

From the moment his eyes fall upon his drink and sweet treats, Denki seems to develop tunnel vision. Mina’s hands make a beeline for her food. Evidently used to the antics of his friends, Hanta turns to you with a grateful smile as he takes his order off your hands. You take the remaining seat at the table, leaning the tray upright beside you.

“Thanks,” he says, placing all of his things down. “They got called in last minute to work – some incident over in the industrial suburbs I think?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Mina says, around a mouthful of food. She must have been hungry, you’ve noticed she only does that when she’s starved. “Bakugou didn’t really say anything but Kirishima mentioned something about a dude with a quirk that can bend metal.”

You hum, pondering the information. Well, all things considered, it seems you’ve been a bit lucky today!

With remarkably less reservations than you started this encounter with, you allow yourself to sink into the conversation. You find it’s easy to get along with them, actually, and you find yourself participating not just for Mina’s sake, but also your own.

You figure that this is probably the first and last time you’ll get to hang with them, so you may as well have some fun.

///

The industrial suburbs aren’t really where you want to be right now, considering they’re likely still swarming with heroes after the incident earlier this afternoon. However, you have a very important appointment to keep.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

A smile tugs your lips before you can really stop it, a certain kind of fondness making your heart warm in your chest. You turn, slipping your hood down as you do so, and allow the door to close behind you and seal off the outside world. The room is empty and dim, chairs placed upside down on top of tables. The floorboards have a light sheen that tell you someone has already been around and given it a mop.

There, on the other side of the bar at the end of the room, taking a rag to some glasses, is a stocky man with a shock of olive hair, bushy brows and bright eyes, that you know simply as Patch. You’re unsure how exactly he got that name, but you figure it probably has something to do with the rounded, patches on both of his cheeks. They have something to do with his quirk, but he has never actually told you what it is.

You’ve since learned to let that curiosity go.

“Didn’t think I would see your cheeky ass out here tonight, what with that showdown earlier an’ all.”

“And miss seeing my favourite bartender?” you say, making your way over to the bar and slipping onto a stool. “No way in hell.”

He lets out a loud, chest-rumbling laugh, bringing a hand up to scratch his bearded chin. “Oh, how I miss your company when you’re away, Miss Pantera.”

Pantera is the alias you are currently operating under, one of a few that you brainstormed and workshopped. Hearing it spoken aloud, you’re actually quite happy with it. Perhaps you can safely retire your other options for good.

“Good. It’s part of my long-term plan to charm everyone around me.” You straighten in your seat, leaning your elbows on the table. He chuckles, but both of you are aware that it is time to discuss what you came for.

“Do you have any special drinks today?” you recite, one of a few lines you have in place to protect yourself somewhat in the event of bugs.

“Yes, actually. Have you heard of the Esplanade?”

You scribble the word onto a small pad, responding as you do so. “No, how long have you been serving it?”

“Thought of it the other night, around 6pm.” Patch finishes up one glass with the rag, and places it down. It is quickly replaced with another.

“What does it taste like?”

“It’s sour, with a bit of watermelon and strawberry. The base is tequila.”

You hastily finish your scribbling, shooting Patch a smile that while thankful comes off a bit grim. The pad is shoved into your pocket and you are rising from your seat. You’ve gotten what you came for.

He has just given you the details of your next hit.

“Hmm, on second thought, I might order that next time. Do you have any cider?”

Patch snorts. “Sorry, fresh out. Best come back another night.”

“Fair enough. Thank you anyway.” You lower in a mock curtsy, using the flaps of your cloak like you would a skirt. Patch guffaws in response, waving you out the door.

“See you next time, cheeky ass.”

As you leave the establishment, checking both ways before stepping out, you mull over the details you were given.

The first two are pretty straightforward: you can find your hit on the esplanade tomorrow night at 6pm. The others hints are a bit more abstract – flavours dictate their difficulty, with sweet being easy, sour being average, and bitter being hard. The fruity flavours hint at whether there are any quirks for you to worry about. If it’s a berry, the quirk is ranged. For the rest, it dictates features of the quirk. Watermelon indicates a water-based quirk. So, your assigned person works with water and is capable of ranged attacks.

Excellent. Sounds like a breeze.

You’re not even half serious as you think that, actually. Life has a way of unpleasantly surprising you with things like these. You’re probably going to come out of tomorrow night covered in bruises, and probably a little drowned.

Letting out a sound that is a little too similar to a sigh for comfort, you stretch in place for a moment, turning your face to the stars. You’re thankful that you have Patch as a source of information, because you’re not sure where you would get it otherwise. This bar is in one of the shadier parts of town, and as such he gets quite an influx of valuable information coming through. Ordinarily, considering you’re not a pro hero it might be hard to make connections like these. Patch is actually someone who used to supply your sister with information, though, so it made things a little easier when introducing yourself and bargaining.

He was wary of you at first, to be fair. But somewhere along the line you think he has come to appreciate your little visits. Regrettably, you have become quite fond of him as well. He is like the rough, gruff uncle you never had.

Limbs thoroughly stretched, you slip your mask back on and turn to begin on your way back. There is nothing else for you to do tonight besides your quiz revision, so you’re actually happy to take the scenic route home. That is, if a walk through this area could ever be considered scenic.

You suppose the world is what you make of it though, and decide to pretend you’re walking along the waterfront instead of walking through buildings in varying states of ruin and decay. You slip into an alleyway and begin slinking home. It works, for the most part. You make it a few blocks under that delusion.

That is, until a loud shout interrupts the peaceful night air.

“—Wait a second, YOU!”

You flinch, eyes shooting wide. No way. You aren’t even doing anything criminal right now! Your head whips around so fast it makes something twinge in your neck, eyes scanning fearfully for who you suspect to be the owner of that voice.

And look, there he is. About a yard away, standing with two other pro heroes and an empty police car down an alley to the side, gawking and jabbing a finger in your direction. Like you’re a fucking sideshow spectacle or something.

“It’s the jerk that dropped her arm off! Like a lizard!”

Asshole. That isn’t how you want to be recognised!

You simply stand for a moment, rooted in place, before you begin to question why exactly you haven’t started moving yet – when Dynamight is literally standing just over there, mouth agape.

That little mental reminder seems to be all you were needing to get into gear, because in the next second you’re shifting your legs into something more suitable for speed and bolting away into the darkness.

“HEY! YOU – Deku, this is gonna have to wait, this piece of-- HEY, STOP!”

You do not stop, having learnt your lesson very painfully last time. As you sprint through the streets of the industrial suburbs, you can’t help but wonder exactly what the best strategy is in this situation. Zigzags? Loops? But those would probably slow you down a bit, even if you managed to confuse him. But surely just going straight isn’t going to work…?

That ever-damning echo of snaps and crackling POPs trails behind you like a funeral march. You don’t like the warmth that is beginning to nip at your heels, either. You’re beginning to regret coming out tonight.

An intersection is rapidly approaching, and as you near it you launch up onto a building, using the wall as a springboard to launch yourself across the traffic. Halfway over, you release the transfiguration of your legs and move your attention to your arms – feathers sprout along their length, a partial change the best you can do since you haven’t perfected shifting them into wings yet. There is a lot of anatomy to understand, alright?! For it to work perfectly, you need to know it and understand it perfectly.

A scream bubbles in your throat as you drop slightly in the air before your makeshift wings put in the work and carry you up, muscles absolutely burning from the strain. The second you reach the rooftop, still hearing Dynamight propelling along after you, you hit it running. The feathers disappear, and you are back to shifting your legs – ones suited for jumping as well as speed this time. Your arms burn like you’ve gone and ripped through every single muscle fibre in them.

Being chased by Dynamight is truly better than any workout you could ever conjure. You don’t remember the last time you were sweating or struggling this much for breath.

“My purse! Someone stole my purse!”

“Holy shit, someone call the authorities – wait, is that a pro hero?”

“Dynamight! Please help!”

The timing of a scuffle down on the streets is so ridiculously divine it borders on comedic. You hear the explosions sputter to a stop, and realise that he is probably torn between chasing you, who he isn’t sure has actually done something today, and chasing someone who just did something right in front of him.

What you do next is probably the stupidest thing you have done in your entire life, but you can’t help it. The fear and adrenaline almost have you high. You skid to a stop, right at the edge of a rooftop, and spin on your heel.

He has halted one building over, body angled back wards but face turning between you and the streets. The next time his eyes fall on you, you let out a cackle.

And you blow a raspberry at him.

“See ya, sucker!”

All you see is a glimpse of the absolutely wild expression on his face before you turn and leap from the rooftop, down into the alleyway. You know that he won’t follow, not now that he has something else compromising his priorities. You do hear him bellow a long list of expletives, though.

“FUCK! Are you serious?! You-- okay, hold on! I’m coming! God damn mother f–“

Sucks to be a hero of the system.

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#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #pro hero au #vigilante au #x reader #bnha reader insert #mha reader insert #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #slow burn #enemies to lovers #e2l #my writing #series #fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Text

Warning: toxic relationship, mention of drugs

(sorry, but it's not really NSFW)

53- Genshin Impact, YANDERE!Diluc x Reader

“The time has come”

Your gentle hands and your worried face are imprinted on his heart as if they were a glowing mark on the living, pulsating flesh of that muscle that lies in his chest.

You, who took care of him without any pretensions, offering him only your good heart, what spell did you cast on him to make him so slave to you? For you the Darknight Hero had been nothing more than a human being in distress at the time. You have neither condemned nor blessed, you simply healed with all the delicacy you were capable of.

You were that person for whom Diluc would destroy the world, that world that threatened so much to hurt you, every minute and every second. He would destroy what he protected, just to keep you safe, and that thought that was taking root more and more in his mind seemed natural, pure and sincere.

And you smiled happily at him as you told him about your day, you confided in confidence and he was so happy with that trust you placed in him. When he smiled at you you lit up, and he was so happy about it.

Initially, the fact that Kaeya sat next to you so languidly wasn't really a problem. Or rather, he was, but the mixed feelings he had for the Captain made him let his guard down. Diluc trusted you, and he knew that the Knight had that unbearable way of dealing more or less with everyone. So he had swallowed the boulder and set you free. It wasn't unreasonable enough to keep you from living, smiling at Albedo or chatting with Jean. Not as long as you always came back to him, like a faithful little dog looking for his master. He was more important to you than them, right? He was as important to you as you were to him, wasn't he?

If someone had dared to make you suffer it would have turned to ashes that same night, you knew that. You should have known.

There was nothing strange, it was normal that he wanted so much to protect you. Yet that evening, laughing, you agreed to a meal with the Captain with the same lightness and the same smile with which you would accept a drink offered by him.

How could you? You knew how Diluc thought about that man, you knew how much the presence of him near you burned inside him. But you, despite necessarily having to be aware of it, had accepted that invitation.

"Why did you say yes?"

He had asked you without a particular intonation, while his skilled fingers polished the glass still wet with droplets of hot water.

He didn't look different than usual, in the eyes of others, but you felt a thrill when he spoke to you. You knew him well enough to sense that slight hatred you had directed at him.

"Do you mind?" Your question was spontaneous and surprised. Why did you have to be so amazed? You knew how dangerous Kaeya was, he had warned you many times. But even more, you knew how much he couldn't stand that blue-haired boy, so why was it so surprising that it bothered him to allow even just an hour of your time alone with him? How did it come to your mind to give yourself to him without asking his permission?

His lack of response made you just sigh. Your sweet hand had slipped silently into his, reassuring. You held it so tenderly that it had suddenly calmed Diluc's troubled soul.

No, you didn't do it nastily, it was just naivety. You didn't want to hurt him and betray him, you just didn't know how to protect yourself from the dangers that surrounded you.

"Listen to me ..." your voice was sweet, light, consoling, and Diluc listened to it. His precious cherry-colored eyes set attentively on you.

"Listen ... I know it bothers you ... I probably don't know him as well as you do, but if I don't give him a chance I'd be in the wrong, right?" Your smile was not right for Diluc at that moment "You are my dearest friend Diluc, nothing will ever change that.

Yet without your realizing it, you had suddenly changed everything.

You grabbed a poisoned sword and stuck it in his chest.

A dear friend. How long have you two been just dear friends? You never have been.

He was yours, completely yours. And you were his. Of him forever, of him in eternity.

"Diluc?" Your uncertain voice made him tremble inside, but he didn't show it. He pushed his flat expression away from you, returning to his work.

It wasn't your fault, your heart was too kind to resist all those tempters around you. They wanted to bribe you too, didn't they? They wanted to take you away from him, they wanted to keep you for them. That was why they told you that you two were just friends. Only dear friends.

The very thought made his stomach turn, the bile in his throat that made him burn it.

It was his fault. He had to realize before the danger you were running, he had to protect you right away.

He hadn't said anything to you as you walked back to the winery with him that same evening. It wasn't too strange that you were going back with him. In fact, it was almost routine - it would have become routine, since it was obvious to Diluc that sooner or later you were going to live there.

He could hear you talking to Adelinde, laughing softly as if you had no problem in the world.

For a moment a flash of clarity enveloped him. What if he was wrong? What if he had never been to you what he thought he was?

No, it wasn't like that. He couldn't have been so wrong. It was just the cruel world that wanted to take you away from him. As he protected his beloved Mondstadt, he would protect you too. You would not have understood at first, but then over time you would both be calmer.

It was only the first step, swallowing the bitter pill, then over time you would have been able to understand how much all this was aimed at your good, how much he was the only one who really loved you, whom you could trust.

And then he would have known that all the smiles you would have given to others would never have been like those given to him. Yes, he would be sure that no one could ever take you away again. You weren't going to leave like his father and Kaeya did.

He had to play the part of the villain only at the beginning, and then you would understand.

Diluch closed his eyes, calmed his heart beating too hard in his chest, swallowed, and then he was ready.

He turned to you, in his hands two glasses full of scarlet grape juice shone wrapped in the warm lights of the house.

"Can you follow me, please?"

You had never been in his room, he had never thought he needed to take you there before the due time, but it seemed that time had already passed.

"I had never been ... here." Your smile was troubled, but you trusted him, so your agitation was quieted by curiosity.

Surely there was a serious reason why he had brought you there, and there really was.

Your glasses rose slightly in gratitude, and you smiled in amusement, commenting on how much you looked like two children drinking a sweet soft drink together imitating grown-ups.

Sitting like this, next to each other on his bed, in the soft lights of the evening, it could be considered an extremely romantic situation. But apparently not for you. It would have been enough a hand that leaned gently on his thigh, your head on his shoulder, on his chest, it was enough your reddened face that languidly approached him in search of his love for you. It would have taken so little and you would have spared both him and you so much pain, but you were too busy laughing and enjoying your friendship.

"Diluc ... I ... I don't feel too good."

Your broken voice breaks his heart, but this had to be done. The help from him you were waiting for will never come, while your head was starting to spin and your strengths were slowly waning.

"Diluc ..." your goblet shatters on the floor and the din covers the click of the key in the lock.

Someone outside the room asked if everything was fine but the landlord was ready to reassure that there was nothing to worry about - on the other hand, what was strange? To them you two were such a perfect couple.

You should have asked for help, but the more you realized the situation, the more your power to act was fading.

"Why…?" You didn't ask it with your voice, but with your eyes. Those eyes of yours that he had always loved, that now looked at him clouded and frightened.

"You'll be fine." His cold voice reached you like a red-hot arrow as he sat down beside you again. Your dear Diluc, your dear friend. What did you do to him to make you deserve this? You were laughing together. What happened?

"This is your fault." He was so authoritarian, and at the same time so natural. You couldn't really believe Diluc was capable of hurting you, it wasn't like him. You were right, but at the same time, the one who bent over you and stroked your cheek so terribly tenderly was undoubtedly him.

"But that's okay ... I'll take care of it, it's normal for someone as nice as you to be so naive." His lips were hot and cold at the same time on the skin of your forehead.

“I'll protect you from everything, don't worry, you'll be fine. You'll be fine, and I'll be fine too ... no one ... no one will take you away. " The kisses on your neck were like blades, betrayal, despair, and he repeated them and repeated them. Oh when would you wake up ... when would you wake up? What could you ever do?

“You are so naive… but you will understand. I'm here. "

He continued kissing you even as your silent body lay unconscious on his bed. He was so beautiful, so composed too as he covered your flesh with poisonous love. Diluc would not change tomorrow, nothing in him had been affected, neither his ideals, nor his attitude ... only, now he had you.

He loved you, and he respected you. Even as his teeth left their hallmarks on your neck, his grace was unquenchable. Was it fair to brand you right? Even if you wouldn't see beyond that wall tomorrow, it was right.

And as his thoughts slowly wandered the young man lay beside you, finally enjoying your warmth next to his body. Yes, the times were definitely ripe.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #yandere diluc x reader #diluc x reader #diluc #out of character #yandere #request #genshin request #genshin x reader

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bunchofstraydogs · 3 years

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Dazai Osamu character breakdown as I understand him

Meaning that this might be inaccurate and your opinion and visage of him might differ from mine, which is just fine. We perceive the world and the people around us through our experiences and expectations. I'm curious to know how you guys see a complex character like Dazai, just please respect everyone's opinions.

Warning: Manga plot mentions, s2 spoilers, BEAST light novel spoilers, Dazai Osamu

Dazai Osamu was introduced into the scene of Bungou Stray Dogs at 14 when Mori found him.

Even at that young age, Dazai had suicidal tendencies and had been wrapped in bandages similarly as he is in the present. Already dealing with too much trauma for a child his age, the fire is fuelled as he was forced to bear witness to the death of the Port Mafia boss at the hands of Mori, the person that took him under his wing. To use him; which was becoming very apparent to Osamu if he hadn't been aware since the start. Now, I'm not saying that death of the previous boss left a particular scar on Samu, he even agrees with it and is something he himself would have done. But that that is the scene that bore fruit of the following quotes:

"Or could it be that you're afraid, Mori-san? That one day i will slit your throat and take over as the boss?"

followed by

"Everyone seems suspicious to those who have an axe to grind."

This tells us right away that he can tell what type of person you are just from the way you perceive your surroundings, which is logical, but not something many think too deep into.

Even less who have their evaluations of others on point like he does. And he has to, since Dazai's plan is always to understand his allies, his enemies, possible allies and possible enemies. He also takes into account important neutral parties that can still, in one way or another, affect the outcome of his plans or decide to align with one side out of common interest. After comes realising the main goals, along with side achievements (just in case some of those maim his allies or ruin the future plans he made) of every party. Taking in their morals and motivation, and being familiar with the ground the confrontation will happen on, he now has the view of the whole chess board and it's pieces in his head. He moves his allies in the right places, knowing how they'll react in the situation to come, and awaits the enemies with open fire arms. He was tought to think like that. At all times. Mori made sure of it. You know how specialists never really stop thinking in their areas of expertise, like doctors, for example, will naturally notice people's posture and look for scoliosis or whatever? How your foot hits the floor, if you're walking straight, your knees and shoulders, etc. Same for Dazai. His brain maps out person's expressions, reactions, choices, personality, etc. in great detail. I'm pretty sure he has eidetic memory, if his conversations in manga with Fyodor are anything to go by.

Another thing his brain does is think of worst possible outcomes.

Not in a fear of what if things go wrong, but as a possible route. He uses it to determine how big of a threat the opposing force is and what steps they'll have to take to achieve that. Knowing that, he'll know how to intercept them. Also, like everything else, it's not something he can control since we're talking about thought process here and that's just how his brain works. Can't magically turn that off. It's especially annoying to him when he's genuinely enjoying himself with, let's say, ADA members and then his brain goes brrr.

•"A lot happened recently and we're a torn in many people's eyes." *Tanizaki and Atsushi drinking punch* "There's a possibility, while a small one, about 8% at this very moment, but as time goes on will increase, that an organisation outside of Yokohama decided we're an unavoidable threat and poisoned the drinks. Don't drink that. Nothing will happen, they'll wake up tomorrow in pristine condition don't drink th-"

Yeah, i feel bad for him too.

He has PTSD and insomnia, besides the hectic brain,

so he's not getting proper amount of rest. Actually, he drinks almost every night by himself at home. Pretty sure it's canon as well, because if you search for a picture of him in his room, you'll see him surrounded by multiple bottles. Two of the PTSD symptoms are hallucinations and night terrors (no, that is not the same as a nightmare). What people usually do is use opium to cause hallucinations in a safe environment so that there's little chance of them happening uncontrolled. He's probably using alcohol to numb himself while he's reminiscing, since if he does still have hallucinations after years having passed by (which isn't impossible), they're probably few and far between. Not saying there's no chance he isn't using opium. He would know where to get what he needs, after all.

Osamu's haunted by his own actions as well, not just by trauma caused to him.

At an uncountable amount of occasions, he found himself looking into a mirror and not really comprehending his image. It was like dissociation. Looking through a fog at what's supposed to be your carbon copy, but not knowing all of your features perfectly, so whatever you're seeing could only be an impostor, yet you're not sure because that would take comprehending physical proof of your life to the fullest and how it works and he just... can't. He can but he doesn't want to. He already knows he's despicable and broken, doesn't really feel the need to see just how much. He can't, for all his perfect memory, remember the faces of the people he has killed. He hadn't even seen all of them, but he was responsible for their demise. Causing havoc and misfortune in general through other crimes besides murder as well. We've seen his expression when he listened in on Atsushi talking to Kyouka over the earpiece how the 35 deaths don't matter anymore. He knows they do and he knows that the change of heart won't justify what he's they've done. Ango thought him to value each life. But he also knows that even murderers can change and become good. Oda did that. It's also what's keeping him in the agency.

When Oda died, his last words mentioned that Dazai doesn't care about good or bad and that was correct for Dazai Osamu back then. I genuinely think that his present self does mind the difference.

He believes in necessary evil and will do dark shit to get the good outcome he's envisioned.

He doesn't separate outlaws and lawful people, however.

He knows that generally speaking, the line is thin and easy to cross and that many were born or forced into the situations they are. Those that fight the life thrown at them are an exception, not a rule. That's also why he likes Atsushi, probably the main reason. The boy has every right to hate the world and yet. Dazai is envious, he doesn't really have the same capacity.

I want now to talk about why does Dazai Osamu do what Dazai Osamu does.

The reason he attempts suicide, joined the mafia, made friends at all, is because for all his intelligence and observations, ability to understand others, he doesn't really understand himself.

He doesn't understand his worth. He doesn't understand his purpose. In all of that confusion, he finds no reason to live. He laughs but can't get the high, he bruises but can't fully heal. In all of the things people find happiness in he can't feel joy from. He is emotionally stunted. He thinks too logically. He doesn't understand actions out of emotions because to him, it doesn't make sense. Emotions cloud your mind and when you're not thinking straight, you make mistakes. Plain and simple. He just accepts it, that most people simply cannot control themselves and prefer lashing out instead of methodical approach. All the better for him, he has leverage. Even when he does act on impulse, which is incredibly rare and not as explosive and dramatic, his brain rationalises it as to why his actions were a good way to go. And if his reaction was one that bore fruit, than it was a tactical one.

"If you place yourself somewhere close to raw emotions, where you're exposed to raw violence and death, instinct and desire, you can brush against man's true nature. I though that way i could find a reason to live somehow."

From this, i can tell that he was hoping that, in a situation where he's pushed far enough, he'd realise what's important to him, what he wants to protect or destroy, what's one thing he wouldn't want to leave unsettled before dying. What is that one thing he'd regret dying before achieving? What should he fight death for. What is worth living on for? To him, it doesn't matter if that something is good or evil as long as he gets to keep it in his life.

It seems he hadn't found it exactly, but is satisfied with what he has for now, in the agency, to just keep going. But he still tries to commit suicide, hoping that one day, when the clear picture of the world around him is fading away, when he's becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen, when he's loosing control over his body and thoughts don't seem to flow well, there will be one thing, anyone, screaming at him to fight it. New day new chances. It didn't happen today, better luck tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomo-.

Now, like Mori, Dazai feels the need to, at all times, be in control of the situation. Including people.

That means no one, but perhaps Ranpo due to his own abnormal intellect, is aware of their own role. They know their mission, but they're not expecting to be given that particular one because they'll come across an obstacle they would react to in a way that would satisfy Osamu's plans.

Dazai Osamu is more of a chemist, than a chess player, if you ask me.

Throwing different people into the mix, under different conditions at different times and is noting down their reactions in safe surrounding if possible, so that when the time calls for it, he'll be able to make a perfect concoction for the predicament. A chemist and his substances; A chess player and his pawns; A puppeteer and his puppets. Now, Dazai is meticulous and never rash, but like everyone else (except effin Lovecraft what is he even) he's only human and he bleeds when he falls down and humans aren't perfect. He isn't always right. That means he makes mistakes. The issue with big shot players that control the board is that, when they fall down, everyone on their side crashes and burns as well. So the day Dazai fucks up everyone else will follow because of lack of insight on their part that's completely out of their control. All it takes is for him to underestimate or overestimate one person and chaos ensues. There is no such thing as happy little accidents small mistakes for someone like him. I have crippling anxiety and a sole thought that one hiccup could blow up in everyone's face... damn. I would try committing suicide myself. But it's his fault, he brought upon himself an obligation and pressure like that. To be fair, it was Mori that drilled that type of thinking where no one should know what you plan because they can't ruin what they don't know If they turn against you, they can't stop you.

For his own sake, and everyone else's, Dazai needs to learn how to show his cards and share the burden.

Again, going back to the emotionally stunted guy that has commitment issues (where he either can't commit or can't let go) trope.

He never outright does something good for someone where people would acknowledge it, he uses his underhanded tactics here as well.

He casually makes himself look like a bad guy, an asshole, to conveniently move attention from the inner turmoil a person is struggling with to a present problem at hand that they can fix and let their frustrations out on. But he hopes that, one day, someone just might notice his intentions for what they are and do the unspeakable- see through him.

"I'm a very private person. You don't ask, i don't tell."

Yes, and your whole existence is just a huge cry for help. He wants to be asked. He's begging for attention. A specific type of attention. One that will see him without making him feel imposed on. One that will understand his sins without making a big deal out of it. Accept him as a person he is, makes him feel like one as well. Makes him feel alive. Makes him feel... period.

The day he finds that thing is the day he completely turns his life around and fully dedicates to it. It's where the part of not being able to let go commitment issue ensues.

Since Oda's death he's been secretly keeping an eye out on possible ways to bring him back. If you've read Beast AU you know that when Dazai gets his hands on the book, he'll create a universe where Oda doesn't die. Should he find an ability user that can bring back the dead, just tell him what it will take, he's ready to destroy his own soul for it and if that isn't enough, well, he'll have no hesitation ruining theirs. After all, BEAST!Dazai Osamu never actually met Odasaku, he just had the memories he'd gotten from his canon self and that was enough for him to do everything he did.

He's incredibly selfish and has a weird come in but the door is a wall dynamic he rolls with in his self imposed solitude.

It's like the walls of the space in my brain are ugly and terrifying, so i closed off the entrance to keep myself in. I'm doing you a favour but please break the wall down and tell me it's okay to come out i don't want to be here-

Happy little thoughts woah woah yeah~

That's what i got from what I've seen of him. I may have missed some things, some things might prove to be wrong as the series progress further, but yeah.

There is, however, one more thing i want to put out here. Since Dazai was already like this before Mori found him, that begs to question as to why? What happened to him?

Now, since the characters are based on real people, is it crazy to say that Dazai Osamu has had a horrible childhood because of his father? Real life Dazai was terrified of his dad and was very intimidated by him. He always tried to stay in his good graces out of fear of punishment. Neither of his parents felt like a parent to him, actually. His father didn't care and his mother was often ill, but did care for him when she could. Both of them died eventually.

This could be the plot Kafka based Dazai's background on, but we'll have to wait and see.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #meta #dazai osamu headcanon #dazai osamu headcanons #hc #hcs #psychoanalysis

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years

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Ok ok. Imma do this right this time.

It’s #7 from the Fictober list “I’m not jealous” for Logyn please. Run with it however you feel suits them best.

Ily loads 💖💖

A/N: Let's go with Vampire AU since it was your initial ask. :D

Loki did not take his eyes off Sigyn for a moment. She glided through the crowd as easily as water over smooth stone. She had always been graceful, even before she was turned over twelve hundred years ago. Loki knew from experience how the change would heighten one's natural abilities. Moments like these were small, but a reminder she was not entirely human.

He smiled, taking a sip of his glass while making sure the liquid never slipped passed his lips. Perhaps Sigyn was right in calling him a romantic at heart. Twelve hundred years and he still had the urge to find her in a crowded room.

It was then a man came into his vision as the man approached Sigyn.

If Loki wanted to, he could have focused his attention and listened into the conversation. He chose not to, doing his best to appear impassive even as a frown pressed against his lips.

The man smiled one of those perfect white smiles humans had been obsessed with for the past few decades; flawless, but artificial. The man then leaned in close, a gesture made excusable by the volume of the bar.

Sigyn smiled back, a genuine one on the outside, but Loki could sense the calculation. He also noticed how she carefully sniffed the air.

The man asked her something. She shook her head, looking idly at a group of women in the corner. Mustn't make it easy, after all.

The man spoke again, this time whispering in her ear. Loki's grip tightened around his glass. It took everything in him not to crush it in his palm.

Sigyn giggled and Loki wished he had focused his attention on their conversation. He wasn't sure if it was real or fake.

Sigyn then nodded toward the exit. The man's smile broadened, his chest puffing up at if he's just won some golden trophy.

Sigyn took the man's hand and pulled him through the crowd, but not before making brief eye contact with Loki.

She and the man left. Loki counted to ten and followed.

He found them hidden behind a dumpster in the alley.

The man was already on the ground, his back propped up by the wall as his eyes drifted between consciousness and sleep.

"Hungry my dear?" Sigyn asked, holding up the man's arm.

Loki grinned. "Starving."

He admittedly bit a little harder than he needed to. The blood was good. It was clear why Sigyn had chose him. The man hadn't had a drink yet leaving his system clean and healthy. Loki was even starting to forget how the meal came to him, until Sigyn whimpered.

Looking up, he saw the ecstasy on her face as she took the blood deeper into her mouth.

He tried to remind himself that she had not properly fed in days, let alone had a living meal. Still, the burning sensation he had felt when he had seen her laugh at the blood sacks' comment burned a little hotter.

With an effort, she pulled away panting a little as a trace of the man's blood leaks down the corner on her mouth. Taking her finger, she pricked her thumb with her fang allowing just a drop of blood to pearl on the skin. She then pressed it into the man's wound, healing the skin instantly.

Loki was tempted to leave the man's vein's open, but for the sake of propriety he followed suit.

"You can wake up now," Sigyn said, the glamour clear in her tone.

The man shook his head, his eyes opening.

"The woman you met had an emergency and needed to go home," she continued. "You think you should go home yourself, make yourself a late night snack and go to bed. Tomorrow, you'll call in sick from work. It's been a long week."

The man nodded, his eyes glassy. "I should probably go home," he said, slowly rising to his feet.

Loki kept an eye on him, making sure he didn't turn back as he turned and rejoined civilization.

"Promise me we don't have to do that again," Loki said.

"You were the one who said we should take a month abroad," Sigyn countered. "That does mean having to eat out on occasion."

Loki turned to her. She looked even more radiant after feeding. Color had returned to her cheeks and her hair shone gold in the lamp light.

He watched as she took her finger and wiped away some of the remaining blood on her lip before placing it in her mouth. She closed her eyes, smiling at the taste.

"You don't have to enjoy yourself quite so much," Loki said, impatiently.

Sigyn raised and eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous," he said, a little too quickly to be convincing, even to his ears. "I just thought after so long we've moved passed the need for back alley seductions."

She look at him a moment as a rueful smile played at her lips. "You are jealous."

Loki frowned which only made her smile broaden as she gave a soft laugh.

"It's not funny," he insisted.

"Oh please, it is a little funny."

She stepped closer weaving her arms around his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

Whatever resentment he felt melted at her touch as he kissed her back. She was in his arms, no one else's. His lips were on hers. He was the only one to call her wife.

He hadn't even known he had been moving until Sigyn gasped against his lips as he pressed her against the alley wall.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

"Perhaps a little," she said. "But after twelve hundred years, it's nice to know you still want me for your own."

Loki grinned, kissing her long and deep.

"I will always want you," he promised against her mouth. "Now and for eternity."

"Now and for eternity," she repeated.

It was an old promise, a true promise and one that had guided them through twelve centuries. Civilizations rose and fell, but they remained constant from now and for eternity.

#marvel #mcu #loki #sigyn #logyn #loki x sigyn #vampire au #monster au #fictober

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

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Part 24: Appearance

Erik shuffled down the aisle of the train car, crutch nudged snuggly into his armpit and a suitcase half his size rolling behind with a heavy looking duffel. No one offered assistance and he didn't ask. As a black man, he could always count on that as a consistency. Crutches and all, he'd be viewed as overly capable. From a young age it was ingrained through experience.. all you have is yourself because no one out here will help you, a young black man. Time had proven it again and again. Injured, he could still handle more weight than the average man and it was because he pushed himself. He relied only on himself. Even hospitalized, he found ways to maintain his strength. Weakness and laziness was never an option, not even for recovery. With all his money, that was still something he couldn't afford. But they could.. the white couple on the left. He couldn't help but notice them sitting there.

A closer look told him they weren't actually a couple. The blonde girl's face screamed underage. Fifteen/sixteen. The heavy makeup she wore aged her. She looked high. Heroin, Erik guessed glancing subtly for track marks. She looked up and he glanced away to a Spanish speaking family with five kids including a crying baby. He bit his lip on his way to take his seat at the rear where he could see everyone. The man in front of him was on his way to sleep. Erik put in his earbuds and continued his watch.

As the hours passed, he noticed more and more. The kids had no home training. The parents had no sense of awareness considering they sat opposite a fifteen year old girl being held against her will. It could easily be one of their kids, with them not paying attention it wouldn't take much. The baby had the healthiest lungs of any baby he'd ever heard. That blonde girl was high as hell. She got up to use the bathroom on his side of the train and he kept his eyes down as she passed with her trafficker on her ass to make sure she ain't try nothing risky. Ain't none of my black ass business, Erik told himself. He hadn't signed up to save any little blonde girls. He kept his eyes down as they passed him again to return to their seats and she dropped a tiny earring on the floor next to his foot on purpose. Damn, he groaned dropping his head on the back of the seat. Why me? I just said I ain't wanna get involved in this shit.

Taking a deep sigh, he picked up the earring and did what made sense. He googled the train police department and texted in a report using his sub contact phone, the main phone. He gave a description of the couple and information regarding the train. You're welcome, he thought watching the back of the girl's head before settling back in his seat comfortably. Any other time he'd have ignored her, not that victims often reached out to him so clearly. Still, it was an unnecessary risk calling on police. What if they decided to search the train? The whole point of taking the train was to not be searched.

Y/N would be proud right now, his lip twisted in irritation. She'd become the true north of his moral compass. What would Y/N do in the situation? The thought made him nauseous. She wouldn't survive his lifestyle. He wouldn't survive it with her morals. This is dangerous. We are completely incompatible, but I still want you, he admitted to himself. It was more like need. Obsession even. There was a burning feeling in his gut. "This shit ain't healthy," he muttered.

-----

"Wow, may I..," Tanner's fingers hover in the air, his eyes on your fresh braids. Your eyebrows answer before you can and he lowers his hand with a smile. "Those braids are really something. Would it be offensive if I asked how they're attached?" He looks so fascinated. He's been staring and talking to the top of your head since he saw you this morning in the lobby and now he's staring just as hard from across the small booth table at Pho Station.

"You just buy braiding hair and braid it into your hair. That's literally it."

"Braiding hair.. what's that?" His head rests on his hand as his elbow sits on the table. He's so curious, staring dreamily.

"It's packs of hair you get at the store specifically for braided styles." You slurp in a spoonful of long noodles.

"Is it human hair?"

"Synthetic." It comes out muffled as you break off the noodles hanging from your mouth with a chopstick so you can swallow.

"Synthetic? What's the difference..," his blue eyes drift lazily down to your nearly black ones. "Well, I mean in how they look."

"Human hair is typically Malaysian or Brazillian, something like that. You can straighten or curl it because it's actual hair. Synthetic fibers can melt but it's inexpensive and can mimic hair textures well."

"Well it's beautiful," he nods. "I've always wondered about it. Does it hurt?"

"Mm-mm," you grumble slurping the broth of your chicken pho. "No these are knotless and they don't hurt." That confuses him so you get into the difference between regular box braids and knotless. "You can't even sleep when you first get regular box braids because it's so tight that's why I don't wear them."

"Yes.. don't wear them if they hurt. Don't wanna pull out all that beautiful hair.." His eyes hold a familiar twinkle. The way he stares.. it reminds you of Erik. You don't wanna think about the meaning of it.

"Damn right.. Hey your pho's gonna get cold."

"Oh," his brows raise in faux offense. He picks up his soup spoon looking away for the first time. It's about time. "Well these.. knotless braids," he gestures with the spoon, "They look amazing on you," he smirks. "But you're already gorgeous, you know that."

"This from a Gene Kelly/James Dean lookalike. You look like you belong in a Marvel movie. That dark hair.. chiseled jaw? And who do you get those eyes from?"

"My grandma. My mom's eyes are carmel brown and so are my sister's. My father's are a darker brown."

"Punnet square kicked in hard."

"So tell me where your features come from," his eyes twinkle, hands folded under his strong chin. Your heart nearly skips a beat. It took a while for you to admit it to yourself because you'd have to admit you were lowkey using him.. but you knew what he was doing and how he felt from the start. That look was infatuation.

Opening doors, calling on me, paying for lunch every time, bringing me coffee? It's a lot.. Well that's because he likes me.. No It could be friendly, doesn't mean he likes me.

Almost everyday you told yourself the same thing.

I don't want him as anything more than a friend, maybe a work husband now that I know he's a cool lil white boy. I think he knows that..

Not when you flirt back he doesn't know that..

But is it really flirting or being nice? Besides I think he might feel the same.

A look into his eyes slams that possibility.

Who am I kidding. Maybe it's wrong to let him pay. Is that selfish?..

Girl, you're not dumb you know exactly what you're doing..

No, but really, I enjoy his company. I look forward to our little lunch outings as much as he does..

Then pay for yourself!..

I KNOW, but I don't.. want to...

Blinking, you sigh clearing your guilty conscience. "I look exactly like my dad but my personality is my mom."

"Oh really. That's where you get those adorably chubby cheeks from? Your dad? Interesting family photos I bet."

"Believe it or not that's also where I get this tummy and all this ass from," I say straight faced watching his cheeks sink in. On that note, he buries himself in his pho and I watch him hold himself together, the both of us laughing on the inside.

"You're ridiculous," he smiles down at his bowl. "What will I ever do with you.."

"Hopefully keep feeding me."

"Of course, Barb told me about a BBQ place about fifteen minutes from here. How about tomorrow?"

"Then I can show you pictures of my bootylicious father," you stare watching him collect himself again.

"Wow," he chokes on his broth. "Or we can look at yours, completely up to you."

-----

Never had it felt so good to be coming or going. Erik wheeled his bags through the station coolly, but internally he was leaping for joy like a little kid. After touching down in every continent through the military as a soldier and then a mercenary soldier, he was used to traveling. New locations, customs, and languages were the norm. War, battle, and toppling small countries for their resources and political control was the norm. It wasn't right, but it made big money and when his service ended, he retired. However, that didn't change the fact that he was still a multilingual and adaptable war weapon with no other real skill or interest other than killing. He was good at it so he made it a business. A consultant was what he called himself. Gameplay and development was the front.

Life as an assassin made him his own boss. He could kill and go off the map at will. He'd travel as far as it took to complete the task and take cash or cryptocurrency which he'd translate into several offshore accounts before his domestic ones. He'd usually buy a throwaway car, restock his ammo, spend time sunbathing on a yacht in the Maldives, hunker down in a city where he blended in and then isolate for a month wallowing in a small room before his next kill. Sightseeing wasn't on his agenda. He'd been all over the world and seen the worst of human nature. Texas had been a first as far as experiencing the high points anywhere. He'd enjoyed his stay with a woman and they'd gone on dates, real dates. He'd gone to an amusement park of all places and taken her around the city. It was magical though he'd almost been killed for it. Texas.. Not Cartagena or Havana or Jaipur but country ass Texas. Now here he was finally back in Cali. Nothing came close to the joy of having someone waiting for him. Someone who'd be overjoyed to see him. His job was done, his leg was healing up nicely, no one was after him because he'd left no one alive that could easily identify him. He was on his way home.

Home, he smiled somewhat bitterly. More like playing house.. Ain't none of this shit real and eventually it will end, probably in disaster.

Still.. He couldn't drop the facade for it was filling a hole within him that he hadn't realized until recently could be filled. He had latent desires. Playing house with her was the closest to a home he'd ever get.

-----

Erik's car takes premium gas and you wonder about his bills. Is he paying them? 'Cause you're not. He'd better have it worked out because once the lights go out in this isolated grand establishment, you're gone. You've gotten too used to walking around with every bright light in the house on at night. Walking through the bathroom butt naked you light the very last of his pricey looking black label white candles having burned through the rest of his supply. This one's Leather scented, not the best but not bad. That's why it was last. Locking the bathroom door out of habit, you run the shower and enjoy the luxurious spa room you've become accustomed to. The water pressure still hits. The warm thick white towels are fresh from the dryer. Your body is hairless from shaving and you've just purchased a new body oil to try that Ava swears by. Though you're only going to bed, you can't resist it. It smells like like fresh baked cookies from the oven and makes your skin radiate golden. It's perfect for a pool party or the beach.. whenever you end up going again which may be a while. Taking a few suggestive shiny body selfies in the towel, you decide to go ahead and send them to Erik though he doesn't deserve them. Someone has to see your glass skin. You hadn't spoken to him in the last two days as he'd been "busy". Doing what, you had no clue. It felt like bullshit. All of it. It was maddening to the point that you didn't want to care anymore, whether he returned or stayed. He'd been gone too long. Waaay too long. His reasons for wanting you out of Texas were beginning to feel like lies.

There's probably a huge harem of harlot whores he's entertaining and he doesn't want me to know he lied about only having three submissives, the asshole. He's probably in some twisted unsanitary orgy in a dark and questionable dungeon drinking glowing lime jello shooters and getting blackout drunk right now.. Probably whipping some poor girl with one of those long cowboy whips. God knows what he does with his other subs. If he was that dirty with Lil Bitch's morally debased ass and that was in front of me...

Every now and again the thought would cross your mind. Fuck him, you thought. Stay gone. I'll keep living here alone in the lap of luxury.

Never before had you been in a hot tub so often. It did wonders for a post work unwind with a smoothie or herbal tea in hand. You didn't need him when you had wifi, cable, powerful A/C, and a full fridge. He could stay with whoever he was with.

But what if he doesn't come back, your mind wonders darkly. What if he stays in Texas and never comes back?

Suddenly the house seems a lot chillier and unwelcoming.. Empty even. Too quiet. Hugging yourself for comfort you wander through the house and turn each of the lights off one by one to get an idea once more just how dark it gets. Too dark. Pitch black. You can't even see a hand in front of your face and panic sets in along with a strong inner body chill. This isn't something you can do and if Erik never comes back...

Honestly you've never seriously considered that possibility. The thought brings a loneliness that echoes the depth of darkness, both equally terrifying. The fact is that you do care.. profoundly to the point that his continued absence really bothers you. He has already become an indestructible pillar in your everyday life. Going days without so much as a hello feels like a week and that doesn't do much good for your anxiety.

Flipping each of the lights back on, you settle into Erik's bed this time around and stare at the time until you doze off. When you open your eyes there's natural light coming in through the window and you take a grateful breath before sitting up in the bed.

"Good morning," a chilling voice interjects and you nearly have a heart attack, unable to scream in the face of Flu sitting on the edge of the bed watching you. You want to run, scream, fight, anything but your body which is frozen in absolute fear and shock will not move. He smiles and you dart upright in bed sweating cold bullets and panting. Outside is still dark. According to the clock you've been sleep three and a half hours. It's 3:30 AM. Taking a deep breath to calm your breathing you look around the room comforting yourself with the mantra "It's just a dream. You're okay. You're okay. There's nothing to worry about. You've been safe and you're still safe. You're completely safe." A few minutes of repeating it and looking around, listening closely to the air has you relaxed enough to fall back asleep especially since your eyes are crossing up. When your eyes open again you check the clock. It's been almost another hour but you keep waking up.

Hold up. Didn't I have the light on?

Thinking back, your half sleep mind isn't completely sure but you know you sleep with the lights on. Nervous to move, your wide eyes search the pitch blackness before you and when you get the courage to move, you turn over bracing yourself to see Flu sitting there beside you on the bed. Nothing's there or out of the ordinary.

Did the lights go out? Did it blow? I think I had it on...

It's not getting up to explore. That's how people fir in movies. Instead, you bury your head in the covers like a small child and slip back into sleep. Or at least almost. Before you can cover your eyes with the blanket, you hear something that sounds like a slight vibration. That would be normal.. if your phone wasn't all the way downstairs.

A hand clamps over your mouth and as you feel a body quickly cover yours you grab at the darkness in attempt to gouge, scratch, and scrape whatever you can reach. When you pull locs, your brain registers and you yank them hard to get a noise.

"AHH," he whisper screams.

"ERIK WHAT THE FUCK?!" This time your lungs are free and healthy because you yell directly in his ear, slapping at him. "YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK." Breathless, you try to catch it, still swinging. "Why would you do that! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

"I wanted to surprise you," he grips your hands. "I didn't think you'd try to rip my damn hair out! And why your nails so sharp!"

"Are you mentally deficient? In what world did that seem like a good idea to you?!"

"Catch your breath," he says quietly.

Getting up he flips the lights and sits on the bed beside you. You haven't seen him in what feels like ages. "You still having nightmares." It's not a question as he looks in your tired eyes.

"Not often, just a couple of times since I've been on my own here." You didn't really have them when you two were together. He nods understanding your meaning. You hadn't mentioned it on the phone or through text. What could he have done about it anyway? There's a moment of silence as he rests his hand over your blanketed leg.

"I'm sorry for being away so long..," he says quietly. "I mean it. I'm sorry for scaring you.. I honestly didn't consider the nightmares because when we were together you didn't have them. I promise you, you are safe. He can't hurt you. There are many things in this world that can, but I promise he's not one.. and as long as I'm here I won't let anyone touch you. I will protect you with my life."

"That's good and all," you sigh, half listening and half asleep already. "But can you just.. stay here with me until I fall asleep."

"You in my bed," he smiles climbing fully dressed under the blanket to scoop you into his arms. Instantly your body clings to his and his shirt becomes your new pillow. You feel the quick sensation of his lips on your temple. "Did you miss me," he whispers. You mean to respond, but instead you fade out asleep.

-----

As soon as he'd slipped into the bed, she was knocked, sleeping soundly and breathing loud. He stroked her braids, her arm, and her back gently but firmly the way he always had when she needed help to relax.

"I missed you," he whispered into her forehead. She responded with a small fart and his nose crinkled. He didn't smell it which meant it was trapped under the blanket. She did it once more just then but it was louder. She'd be horrified if she were awake. "Y/N," he groaned hoping he wouldn't smell it. He didn't dare move though. He only sighed and continued rubbing her back. "Stink," he nicknamed her on the spot. "My lil stink stink," his stomach jumped in humor thinking of her reaction in the morning. He wanted to see the expression on her face when he called her that and when she heard the explanation of why. It made his chest shake. He tried to control it so not to wake her. She was sleeping too good for him to even get up and take his outside clothes off and they were hot to sleep in. He wanted to get comfortable.

That's okay, he decided as he settled in to fall asleep exactly where he was, under her. It took some effort to get comfortable in that position but in that moment there was no other place he'd have rather been.

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#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #house rules

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

Text

In a Word

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing. Small depictions of PTSD. Post War.

Summary: The War changed Fred. His brush with death had an unexpected affect on the joyful young wizard and, unfortunately, created severe turmoil in his relationship with Y/n.

Prompts: 12, 15 & 20

"You're over me? When were you...under me?" // "I'm sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you by...taking you roughly in the barn." // "This can't be it./Then how come it is?"

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Not much was said about Fred Weasley, in fact most of the time he could be described simply in a word. He was loud. Boisterous. Confident. Some even called him Unstoppable. Those weren't the words [Y/N]'d use to describe him though.

Although, these days there were only two that came to mind when she thought of him. He was her ex. And he was afraid. Not that he would ever admit the fact.

Stubborn. That's another word for Fred Weasley.

The war had changed people. She'd seen it in the faces of friends, and family. In the eyes of strangers, and in her own reflection. Fewer people laughed while more cried. Many left hollow shells of their past self.

The same couldn't be said for Fred. He was different. The complete opposite. While others withdrew into themselves, he had never shone so bright.

If you thought he were loud before you'd be surely mistaken. These days he laughed harder, pranked more and never stopped moving. It was like he saw it as his job to single handedly bring joy back to the world. To shine light where darkness had taken root. Which isn't a bad thing, but now he had trouble on knowing when the joke needed to end.

His girlfriend suffered most as a result. She'd grown tired of feeling like the mother of a hyperactive toddler on a sugar rush. She'd attempted to talk with him on countless occasions. To have him confide his fears in her, but he never did. He did his best to never let on that he was hurting, but his best just wasn't good enough. She still saw it. Because if you looked closely enough you'd notice the way he jumped more at loud noises like he hadn't before. Notice the look in his eyes when he was with family or friends, how he seemed to try and memorise every detail of them, incase he wasn't here tomorrow to see it. It broke [Y/N]s heart to see him suffer in silence. But it didn't hurt her nearly as bad as when she had to leave him.

The problem between them was that Fred just never spoke about the war. Whether to offer himself a reprieve, or to be that support for another. Any worries someone had would be brushed off with a joke. Even on the day [Y/N] left he had a witty retort lined up at every word she said.

"Damn it Fred! This is serious!" She pushed herself up from the dining room table.

"Must be to have your nostils flaring like that" he laughed. [Y/N] groaned loudly in frustration. Why was he incapable of being serious? Pacing the room in anger Fred watched as his girlfriend tried desperately to calm her emotions. He swallowed thickly quickly becoming uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere.

[Y/N] tugged at the roots of her hair, ran her hands down her face, pulled them over the back of her neck. She tried anything to rid her body of these stressful feelings as her mind raced a million miles an hour.

"Why can't you just talk to me!?" She shouted, arms being thrown out pleadingly towards her boyfriend. Face begging to understand him.

"I do."

"No you don't. Not about things that matter. Not about what's on your mind or how you're feeling. Hell! Fred, it's been so long since we've had a meaningful conversation I don't even know if you love me anymore." Her eyes were stinging red as they began to glisten with tears over her words. Fighting with every bit of strength in her body to keep them from falling.

"Of course I do.' Fred's face was the most serious it had been since the War. This was the first time in months she had seen it without a smile. That sickly fake smile.

Brows furrowed as he raised from his chair he walked to his partner. Snaking his arms around her waist as she turned her face away from him.

"Hey", his hand cupped her chin making her look at him, "I do love you. I'm sorry." He pulled her into a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of her head as her hands met at his shoulder blades. His chest vibrated against her cheek as he spoke, "maybe I can make it up to you" he leant back to peer into her eyes. Looking away as if deep in thought, "by...i dunno, taking you roughly in the barn?" he began laughing. [Y/N] pushed out of his hold tears falling in anger. "Oh, come on [Y/N]"

"NO! Fred. Just...no." she snapped, her back to him. One hand came to her temple, massaging to try and dull the pain throbbing in her mind. "I can't do this anymore." Her voice were no more than a whisper, but still it carried to Fred's ears. The room fell deadly silent as he processed the words. No, he heard wrong. He had to. "What?" His breathing began to pick up in panic. "I can't do this anymore!" Hot, fat tears spilled from her eyes as she turned shouting. "I can't keep pretending everything's okay, that I'm okay. That you're going to let me in and admit you're hurting because I know. I know you're hurting too." Fred was paralysed. This wasn't happening...

[Y/N]s voice softened "I can't just carry on in denial like you're choosing to, Fred. I-" her throat seemed to close over itself. No words or air able to break through. Biting her lip as her eyes ran the room, searching for an answer that just wasn't there. She dropped her head as more tears started to fall.

Seeing the woman he loved so distraught in front of him, because of him, killed Fred. It was like being trapped under that wall all over again, and he was suffocating. He hated that feeling. The one that plagued his very existence in every waking moment. He made so many jokes these days to distract himself from feeling just that. He stayed silent to protect the people he loved, but he'd just caused more damage.

He moved towards her again, carefully as if he'd scare her if he were to move too quickly. "Hey..." his voice cracked under the pressure of it all but still he forced a smile through the pain, "I know things have been difficult lately. With work and the-the aftermath of it all but...we'll get through this. Together. We can-" "No Fred." She looked up into his pale face, seeing his eyes widen. " 'We' can't. Not this time."

"No, no-no-no-no, please!" He willed himself forwards. Clutching her hands in his own and pulling them to his chest. "Please, [Y/N], love. I'm sorry this...this can't be it." His eyes were frantically searching her face, begging her.

"Then how come it is?"

That was nearly two years ago now. They'd seen hide nor hair of one another since. [Y/N] had been on a few dates here and there but none felt right. No one could make her feel like Fred did. It broke her heart to leave him, but she knew it was the right thing to do. Being away gave her the time she needed to heal and cope with the reality which Fred had been determined to ignore.

As [Y/N] was finishing her day at work she decided to reward herself for surviving a particularly stressful week by heading for a few drinks at the new bar that had opened up in Diagon Alley a couple months back. She'd been dying to go, all her friends say it's fantastic unfortunately she'd never had occasion to accompany them.

So, with a quick stop home to shower and change she apparated to the entrance of the Bar.

It was everything she had heard about and more. As she sat on a stool by the counter she couldn't help but marvel at the interior. The ceiling glimmered with tiny lights that reminded her of the stars (which in turn reminded her of the ceiling in the Great Hall of Hogwarts), and the floors were gorgeous hardwood with Bar to match. It was hard to believe such a classy place existed in Diagon Alley. Swivelling back around in her seat to face the bartender she ordered herself another drink.

Her hands played with the cool exterior of her glass while she starred absent-mindedly at nothing in particular. Lost in her own thoughts as she enjoyed the night to herself.

"[Y/N]?" a familiar voice called from behind her. Her eyes shot up to the mirror on the wall, behind the whiskey shelf and there she saw him. A dishevelled mop of red hair emerging from the crowd of people bustling about the dance floor. "Fred?" She spoke more to herself before turning to face him.

Standing as he approached, their mouths were both agape ever so slightly. They stared for a moment before a single laugh fell from Fred's lips, one of shock and amazement, followed closely by that signature Freddie grin.

"It's so good to see you." Before he could register his movements his arms were already tight around her body. "You too".

He let her go slowly, standing back bashfully to admire her. "What are you-" he stopped himself. He was going to ask what she was doing here but out of fear she may be on a date he decided against it. "What have you been up to?"

"Not much. You know just work mostly. Actually I was just promoted a little over a month ago so it's all been really good." Her smile was genuine as she answered him and it made his heart soar to see her so happy again. Even if it weren't with him. Fred so deeply missed that smile, he missed all of her more than he could ever put into words. "That's fantastic! I'm happy for you." He knew he was staring but he didn't care. She was still so beautiful. Seeing her, being near her after all this time, was like a cool breath of fresh air he didn't realise he needed so bad.

"How about you? How's the store, and George?" "Great. All great. We're opening a store in Hogsmead shortly. Prime real-estate in our opinion, so close to the school. Couldn't pass up the chance to drive McGonagall up the wall either." [Y/N] found herself laughing hard at his comment. He was just like she remembered, before the war. Not trying to be funny it just came naturally. He looked happy. "That's amazing. I'm glad everything's going so well for you. God! It's been so long." "Too long."

There they went staring again. Both in awe of one another.

[Y/N] was the one to realise, or perhaps Fred just didn't care, but sensing the lull in conversation she cleared her throat - glancing over the room briefly.

"George is here." Fred spoke abruptly. Desperate to keep talking with her he threw out the first thing that came to mind. "A few of us came out for drinks tonight. Would you like to join us? I mean, if you aren't expecting someone." The words left a fowl taste on his tongue and an ache in his chest, praying she weren't with anyone. "No, I'm here alone", prayers answered. "But I couldn't possibly impose." "Impose? Please! We'd be offended if you didn't." He joked "come oooon...one drink?" putting on his best puppy dog eyes, that silent beg she never could resist. She pursued her lips, pondering his request for a moment. Would it be awkward? God she hoped not. "Okay." She raised a finger in front of her face with a stern expression, "one drink." "Atta girl!" He grinned widely, taking her wrist in his hand and whisking her through the close knit crowd to a booth to the back of the room.

Safe to say she was there a lot longer than one drink. As one turned to two, two turned to three and soon the minutes had stretched well into hours. Everything felt so safe and familiar back in the company of her old friends. Soon enough though, as was inevitable, it was just the two sat within the booth as everyone else vacated for the bar, dance floor or home.

In the comfort of each others company the two couldn't help but reminisce, on their Hogwarts days mostly. The two were in hysterics as [Y/N] recalled the time she failed to prank Snape which lead to Fred swooping to her rescue, taking the fall. "I had detention for a month after that." He laughed at the memory, "I said I was sorry!" [Y/N] was wiping tears from her eyes. "Hands were blistered to Hell by the time I'd polished all those damn trophies." As her stomach cramped [Y/N] burried her head in her hands, trying to compose herself but failing. Fred watched her, shoulders quaking in silent laughter at how adorable she looked in this moment. Finally having control of herself once again [Y/N] adjusted her posture while stretching her jaw that'd cramped from smiling so much.

Fred lifted his glass to his lips readying himself to drink, "I still remember the day you confessed your undying love for me", he threw his head back finishing the beverage. "Practically screammed it for the whole school to hear." He smirked. "Oh it was not like that!" "It most certainly was!"

"Just tell me what's wrong!" Fred bellowed, storming after the angry girl ahead of him. Arms wide pleadingly.

"It doesn't matter! None of it matters now!" [Y/N] called over her shoulder as she rounded the corner into a quiet corridor.

"Clearly..." Fred ran to stand in front of her, hands grasping her shoulders to keep her in place, "it does." She rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him. "It doesn't matter because I am over you Fred!" She pulled out of his grip standing confidently before him. "I'm over you."

Freds face lost all emotion. They stood in silence as realisation dawned on [Y/N] slowly, rising through her spine like a chill. A hand coming to cover her mouth as the other wrapped around her stomach like she was going to be sick. "You're over me?" [Y/N] backed away from him and found herself pressed against a cold stone wall eye's wide in horror. "When-when were you...under me?" His brows furrowed, turning confused to find her on the ground now, hands tugging at the roots of her hair with knees to her chest.

An endearing sort of chuckled rolled from his throat past his lips, sounding dangerously close to a scoff. Shock subsiding slightly he shook his head while approaching his best friend. Crouching before her.

"Look at me."

[Y/N] shook her head quickly. Hiding her eyes in the palms of her hands. "No." she mumbled.

"Please, look at me"

"No!"

"[Y/N]!"

"NO!"

"Oh for the love of - [Y/N]!" her arms were suddenly being pulled from her face as she was made to stand infront of him.

Embarrassed by her confession [Y/N] became defensive, "WHAT!? Okay, yes, I like you! I have for a while. I tried not to, tried to stop myself but I couldn't! I'm sorry! So go ahead. Make your jokes. Have a good laugh, I don't care anymore!" She was waving her arms frantically as she yelled. Staring directly into his eyes, which were glaring incredulously back. "You're insufferable, you know that!?" He snapped. [Y/N] scoffed, mouth falling wide at the insult. "Oh yeah? Well, you're a-"

Her next words were cut out by Freds lips on hers, hands cupping her face before one looped the small of her back to bring their bodies tight against each other. Her hands held onto his biceps. She felt herself melt into the kiss she'd been dreaming about for months, although it was under vastly different circumstances. Moaning softly at the warmth spreading through her body. Much to her dismay Fred let go of her, pulling back to catch his breath. A grin forming on his face as he looked down at her. "I'm a what?" His tone playful. [Y/N] stood breathless for a moment glancing at his lips, " You're a...really good kisser." She whined pulling him back in for another.

Fred was doubled over in their booth from unrestrained laughter. "Okay, so maybe a few people heard. There was an awful lot of yelling." [Y/N] giggled, watching him fondly.

"LAST DRINKS!" called the bartender. Their attention shot towards them, expressions falling solemn. When had it gotten so late?

"I-I should probably get going." She kept her eyes on the bar as she mumbled the words knowing if her eyes met his she'd crumble. Freds eyes were fixed to her profile. This couldn't be it. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. "I'll walk you." He jumped from his seat, "still at the same place?" He smiled and reached his hand out for her to take. Finally her gaze met his, smiling immediately, she took his hand nodding.

The walk home was interesting, to say the least. Both were considerably drunker than they realised, stumbling about the Alley way they were relying solely on one another for the stability to remain upright. Fred was cracking jokes as [Y/N] all but hung from his arm where their elbows interlocked.

Howling laughter echoed noisely through the deserted street. Several times Fred found himself taking hold of her waist to keep her from falling. The last he decided it were safer just to keep them there. Hugging her tightly from behind they walked step-in-step, as he swayed her dramatically enjoying the giggles that erupted from her at the action. For anyone observing the scene they'd never wager the two weren't a couple.

[Y/N] was squirming under his hold as his fingers began tickling her sides. Eliciting various shrieks, squeals and 'no's from her mouth. She bent far forward trying to distance herself from his touch, Fred took advantage of the action sweeping her off her feet into a bridal style hold. "Right let's see now, where were you." He scanned the lining apartments counting to himself over the loud sound of [Y/N]s laughter. "Ah, here we are!" He exclaimed, jogging up the short flight of stairs to the door, effortlessly. "Your stop, M'lady" he bowed placing her feet firmly on the ground. "Why thank you kind Sir." She was visibly flustered from the amount of contact and laughter they had shared tonight. It just all felt so right with him.

As she rummaged her coat pocket for her keys and looked back to him the scene changed. Their faces falling sullen and the night deathly quiet. This was it wasn't it...goodbye?

"Thank you for walking me home and-and for tonight. I had fun." She swallowed the lump in her throat that formed over her awkwardness.

"Anytime" Fred shook his head, though he tried to smile it didn't last long. He felt like he could breathe again and to say goodbye meant suffocating. How could he tell her, tell her that a life without her in it wasn't worth living? How could he prove he's changed? Did she even feel the same way anymore? He searched her eyes, praying to find the answer hidden within them.

"Anyway, I should-" she gestured to the door with her keys.

"No, yeah. Of course." He smiled, but that hand that shot to rub the back of his neck gave him away. He was nervous. Even after two years she could still spot his tells a mile away. He wanted to say something and from the thundering in her chest [Y/N] could guess what it was. Because she felt it too. She was opening her mouth to speak -

"I'll see you." He was walking away. Why was he walking away?

[Y/N]s mouth fell open, watching him stride into the distance. Her mind willing her to do something. Say something. Fuck, say ANYTHING!

"FRED!" she stood at the edge of her stairs. The call of his name turning his attention back to her. Heart racing.

Her mind was fumbling over the words to say. The love of her life was there. He was right there waiting for her...

"I'm...I'm still under you." She kicked herself for how awkward that must have sounded.

Fred's head dropped in sigh. Running before his feet knew they were carrying him he leapt onto the landing beside her. Pulling her by the nape of her neck their lips crashed together. [Y/N] was smiling against his lips as tears trickled down her rosie cheeks. Fred broke his lips from hers, pushing their foreheads together as they caught their breath.

"You're insufferable, you know that?".

"I know."

There were a lot of words [Y/N] could use to describe Fred Weasley. He was passionate. Funny. Smart. Impulsive. But most importantly; he was Hers.

Completely.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley/reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #hp #hp imagine #fred weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #writing is hard.#harry x reader #writing prompts #prompt fics

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pbandjesse · 2 years

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Today has been a busy day but much calmer then yesterday. I slept pretty well last night. Though getting up was still hard, it was easier. I woke up at 630 first and was happy to go back to sleep. I would actually feel pretty good when I woke up.

I got dressed but didn't know what to eat so I had tea and a cookie. I walked to the nursery and listened to a new song that came out today that I have been waiting for. The flowers are the trees were all blooming and it was really pretty.

And the nursery was fun. I had brought the potato candy to share with Becky. And the kids were all so sweet. Tomorrow is one of their birthdays so we had cupcakes with little superhero action figures on top. And it was just a fun morning.

We went to the yard for morning recess. There were a few tumbles and Soni spent a lot of the time hugging and comforting children. But it was a beautiful day and I was in a very good mood.

I helped through lunch and getting them ready to sleep. I read a few stories. And then went to have my lunch.

I enjoyed the rest of the leftover soup and watched some videos. But I would pretty quickly get myself ready to go back upstairs. I would spend all of nap just watching stuff on my phone. Helping a little with coming up with lessons for the kids to do next week. And telling the more fidgety kids to calm their bodies down. Overall it was a good break.

The rest of the day we would have snack and do crafts and then go to the park. Where I would have a fun time pushing kids on the swings and helping them find sticks for some purpose I did not understand.

One little child got mad at me at the end because I wouldn't let her be the line leader because she wasn't being kind. But she would get over it eventually.

I was glad to be done. Like I had such a good day, eating snacks, playing with Legos, making little drawings with them. It was just a lot of fun.

But it was time to make my way home.

I stopped at Walgreens to get new eyeliner. They had so many new squishmallows so that was neat to see. I jokingly texted Jess that nature was healing. And there was one I liked but I don't want any more really large ones. So if I find a dodo bird in a smaller size I will consider it. But the Walgreens only had the large ones this time.

The line to check out was long. But I would be home by 530. And James had picked up dinner for us. I didn't enjoy it as much as I hoped but that is okay. I have felt weird about pizza and fries lately. But I don't know what to eat and that always feels safe. Guess not anymore.

But I still had a nice dinner with James. My skin hurt though and so I would take a daylight bath. Something I don't do often. And then got in my jumpsuit and played Pokemon while James was at the theater.

I got very stressed out when I realized I double booked myself with the museum and nursery. But it would work out and the nursery says they can survive without me. They actually were interviewing another sub today so I don't need to feel so much guilt.

James got back and we have been cuddling and watching videos since then. Just a lazy evening. We just had a lot of laughs and it was fun. But now we are tired.

I have the day off tomorrow. But I have a lot of plans. I am going to do art and printing and figuring out for my pop-up in April and I'm hoping I have a lot of energy and am just in a good mood. So wish me luck that this actually an happens.

Sleep well everyone. Take care of each other! Goodnight!

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

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aithusia

hi bestie @lady-ofmagic-andstars it's been a while. i said i would do this episode last week but i had to wait for the destiny and chicken podcast to come out so here we are. basically, all of my thoughts while watching aithusia.

ugh the opening scene. i actually love it

ok ngl i remember that this guy is the bad guy but he's like 🥵🥵🥵 jeez

ik it's not just on tiktok but that tiktok where it goes 'but momma i'm in love with a criminal'

wow nice key bud

ok him running in the forest is just like you cannot outrun your demons and i thought that was so funny

smh he's so violent but he's so pretty :,)

ok but how old is this guy?? he say it's taken 20 years of his life. why 20? is that because that's when the 'last' dragon died out?? and at what age was he socially concious enough to recognize the implication of what it means to have a dragon? his is so dumb but probably like 15? so this guy is 35ish? idk man thoughts?

ok if he just feel off the cliff instead of being able to pull himself up we would've saved ourselves a lot of trouble i'm just saying druids.

ok this is so pretty. my thoughts are like 25% me singing show tunes, 25% thinking of actual merlin things, 50% thinking about how pretty everything is

merlin is such a light sleeper. idk why that's important but he wakes up ALL the time

✨gaius is the worst ✨

ok colin's eye looked so good in this scene

aLASFLJDFA MERLIN AND HIS SOCKS

stop i literally dress like this

i love his sleep clothes. it's such a vibe

aw merlin saying 'save the dragons is so cute' omg it reminds me of the vsco girls and saving the turtles HAHA

i love how equal merlin and kilgharrah feel here

asjflsjdasjdfl like ik this is the point but i love that merlin's inherited his father gift and he's always going to remember him. not that merlin would forget his father but idek

aw kilgharrah is like 'i beg you' ok now that i think abt it maybe it's slightly manipulative but it's also really not

ok actually i don't know how many time merlin uses this scene but i guess i'm keeping track now. but look how pretty

wow the rising sun 🤪

OH HAHA THIS IS WHERE MERLIN CARTWHEELS??

literally merlin just breaks in everywhere

merlin seems so earnest about wanting to see the dragons. i want to see the dragons too please

omg HAHA the woodworm is this episode??

WHY IS MERLIN STILL SEARCHING AFTER ARTHUR TURNS AROUND WHAT?

this is a side note but i love arthur's key holder thingy it's actually pretty.

stop right now why is merlin using his magic to PANTS arthur

ok i'm pretty sure that agravaine is only in this episode this one time, and yk it's the little victories

i'm actually embarassed for arthur and merlin here. i don't like it at all

HOW DOES MERLIN DO THE HANDSTAND?? that's the one part i like

ok my question is how is he supposed to know where the last piece of the triskeleton is??

SECOND QUESTION WHY IS HE JUST STANDING IN THE VAULT WHEN HE SHOULD BE RUNNING

lasflkajsdljsad omg the betrayal. ouch my heart

these scene are just like. it's actually art

ok how did merlin stay there all night and no one saw him?? literally camelot guards need to step up

omg no not merlin zooming

sklfja;lsdkjfasdlfs amerlin and the cup

i love how long merlin and arthur look at each other before arthur reacts

lsjfa;lksdsl woodworm omg and the fact that arthur believes that merlin is this chaotic is so funny

HAHA THIS SCENE GAIUS LITERALLY YELLING AT MERLIN

i think this is the funniest thing because gaius is like 'don't people about your magic' while YELLING ABOUT MERLIN'S MAGIC

ok that's a good point gaius we don't know what borden's intentions are

alsdjfalsd stop why didn't they wait for merlin :,(. this reminds me of when you're in highschool and you're finishing lunch and as you pack up everyone is leaving you??????

ok but i love that merlin rides in front with arthur. like- of course he does

merlin being observant 😍😍

i want to go horse riding now

STOP I DON'T LIKE THIS

THIS KNIGHT/DINNER GAG IS NOT FUNNY TO ME. NOT IN THE SLIGHTLEST. THERE'S THIS FIC by @a-small-batch-of-dragons. i literally spent like 10 minutes looking for it because i had to include it here

this scene just.. i don't like it. i never have and i never will

like- who decided that putting this scene in here would be good. no thanks

the knights sleeping in a circle and merlin sleeping on the outside. idk bro that made me a little sad

but also. i want a cloak please. i think i'm just going to say i want a cloak every episode

ok i chuckled at the interaction of 'ever herd of the word sorry?' and 'no is it a word you made up?'

dude don't ask why but i love it when people walk through waterfalls

i don't know why arthur looked so stupid when he was doing it though

i love the nature of it all

yes merlin, you start walking toward the castle first

aw i love the knights working together. like, i know they work together- they're knights, but we love to see it

merlin and his sharp eyes again :,))

why are they making camp it's literally not even dark yet 😭😭

oh great another dinner gag. please stop. i dislike this immensely

wow i love that merlin can heal them. i also think it's surprising because merlin sucks at healing things but yk.. ✨plot✨

this looks like the type of building teens would either be convinced is haunted and try to stay the night there or the type of building that all teens would go to to take pics for the #gram

ok is borden dead here or..

yes i'm putting both of these picture here. who's going to stop me

just kidding it's three

ok so not dead

ok this is not meant to be creepy but colin has nice hands

borden is a creep please go away now

merlin use your ✨magic ✨ please

YES. tell him you're the last dragonlord. i stan. YES HIM AND HIS MAGIC

you better run boy

ok how he manages to get out of the castle is astounding

HAHA there was some CGI that fell and i laughed so hard because it looked so fake

LITERALLY. THE PRETTY CASTLE SCENE IS HERE AGAIN. PRETTY CASTLE SCENE COUNTER; 3

omg merlin getting excited about the egg is actually so precious

both of their faces here are SO precious.

oasfasldfjasl idk why but whenever merlin walks across with the eggs i have this feeling he's going to faceplant and drop it for the comedic effect but i'm glad that never happens

bruh 'back where it belongs' like yes that makes sense but also that doesn't make sense

dude

it's been a full moon for like 4 days now..??????

omg i actually love aithusa

tbh, i DO NOT know how to pronounce her name

why is she actually the cutest thing ever.

AW MERLIN CRYING

i love it when merlin cries, but not in a sadistic way yk? it's more the fact that he's allowed to cry

ok i have a few dragon fics that i love but the only one i can think of right now is Returning the Favor by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle it's actually perfect

there are so many more that i love but i can't think of them but also- PLEASE REC YOUR FAVE DRAGON FAMILY DOMESTIC FICS PLEASE AND THANK YOU

anyways. i'll be back tomorrow to rant more about the darkest hr pt 2 so i'll see you then! also let me know if you want me to stop tagging you @lady-ofmagic-andstars because otherwise i will literally tag you in everything :,)

#merlin #merlin bbc #colin morgan #emrys #bradley james #gwaine #lancelot #arthur pendragon #king arthur #guinevere #morgana #elyan #percival #leon #gaius #uther #angel coubly #katie mcgrath

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