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#resurrection seeker
thequotesdotme · 2 years
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Follow the white rabbit
Follow the white rabbit
The Matrix Resurrections (2021): Follow the white rabbit (more…)
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partnersatfazbear · 2 years
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HAITUS UPDATE for Truth Seeker
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ribbittrobbit · 2 months
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The Litany of Saint Kristen Applebees
St. Kristen Applebees, Prophet of Cassandra, The Seeker of Truth, The Ever-Changing, Patron of the Lonely, Solace of the Forgotten The Resurrected The god-saviour The god-killer
(being catholic means very rigid liturgical structures embedded into your brain, great for poetic reasons)
I am not normal about them at all
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This is my first time writing mature content so please be nice!!
Also, I really was inspired by some art that I saw today so I hope this isn’t too ooc!
(And sticking with some of my past drabbles Inumaki will be selectively mute)
TW: Unprotected sex, P in V, fingering, hickeys, mild love bites, (that’s all I can think of lmk if I missed any)
Art Student!Toge Inumaki x fem!reader
Summary:
College art student; Toge Inumaki, becomes obsessed with a mysterious painting. An unknown woman with alluring eyes and a soft smile. Rumor has it that when the woman’s soul mate sees the painting she will visit him in his dreams. Inumaki has a hard time believing this, until his every thought is consumed by her.
Inumaki sighed softly. Fighting the sleepy feeling that threatened to conquer him as he shifted in his wooden chair in the too-warm classroom.
He rubbed at his eyes, trying desperately to get through his last class of the day without falling asleep. He hadn’t been sleeping too well at night, and these late afternoon summer classes were really starting to get to him.
“Now class, may I present to you the Chercheur D'âme. Which roughly translates to Seeker of the Soul, or Soul Seeker.” Professor Geto said, a slight grin gracing his lips.
Toge looked up with a mild interest. It had been almost a week since they had gotten to study a new painting. Sure, as an art student, he technically should’ve been used to study every little detail of a painting for weeks, but the previous one had been nothing but boring.
Professor Geto continued to ramble on about how he was able to borrow the painting privately from an undisclosed friend.
The painting was of a woman, sitting on the edge of a river bank, nude, her hair matted and wet against her head. Her body faced away from the audience. One of her feet had its toes dipped in the clear rushing water. The other was bent at the knee, digging its foot into the soft brown and mossy green earth that supported her body. She was leaned slightly back, propped up on one of her elbows. Sun littered across her skin, as it was filtered through the vibrant green canopy of trees above her. But her face was angled right at him. Her eyes clear and focused. Her mouth was parted and upturned just enough to give off the impression of a little smile.
Inumaki’s breath hitched. He had never seen something so beautiful. No, he quickly corrected himself. He had never seen someone who was so beautiful. The more he stared the more drawn towards her he felt. He swore he could almost hear her calling his name. Beckoning him closer. He hadn’t even realized that he had stood until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Mr. Inumaki? May I ask why you are out of your seat?” Professor Geto questioned.
Wordlessly, Toge pointed at the painting, never fully talking his eyes off of the mysterious woman.
“Ah, yes. You see class. This is the passion that I expect from you all. Especially with paintings as intriguing and intricate as this one. Actually, Mr. Inumaki? Tell me, do you know the story behind this painting?”
Toge shook his head, brushing his hand over the glass, so lightly as to not leave a print. His finger tips fluttered as he traced the frame. Careful not to ruin or tarnish the painting in anyway, but wanting, needing to be closer to her.
“I didn’t think so. It is said that the woman’s lover died just days after painting this picture. And that her heart was so broken that she continued to come back to that very spot and search for her soul mate, convinced that he would see her face after he passed through the after life and would resurrect.” Professor Geto, smirked, clearly enjoying the attention he had from all his students, enraptured by his tale.
“Rumor has it that when her soul mate sees her face he will be so entranced that she will be able to find him through visions in his dreams.” He pointedly looked at Inumaki.
Professor Geto’s stare pulled Toge out of the little trance he had seemingly been caught up in.
He gave a quick shake of his head. Convinced that the heat and lack of sleep had finally gotten to him. He walked back to his seat gathering his pens and pencils and sketch book, while Geto concluded the class for the evening.
***
Inumaki could not sleep. Again. He had already stripped down to his boxers, but it was too hot. And he was too restless. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her. The skin of her thighs, pressing together as she kicked the water into the air. Her laugh as she tipped her head back, then looked at him. Staring into the depths of his soul. Her lips pinched smirk, and a mischievous glint in her eye.
She leaned her weight on one arm, letting the other trail down her body, starting at her chest. Her hand grazed down her nipples, letting her thumb swipe over the sensitive buds.
Toge’s heart beat quickened as he watched her lips part further and her chest rise and fall with a sharp breath. Her hand continued down its path, lower and lower until it reached the apex of her thighs.
Inumaki felt his own breath begin to quicken, eyes following her hand. He reached his own hand into his boxers, only to find that he was completely naked as well.
Long lithe fingers, grasping the base of his erection. He began to stroke, steady and slow, eyes still trained on her.
Her hand began to move faster rubbing at the sensitive spot between her legs. Her back arched at her own touch, nearing her release. Inumaki following quickly behind
Just as he felt the tell-tale tightening in his abdomen and balls, his body jerked awake.
He groaned as he awoke from his wet dream, finding his boxers stained with pre-cum, and his dick still very hard.
***
It was the third night that he had had that stupid dream. The same turn of events, and the same result, leaving him unsatisfied and craving more.
He grimaced at the clock. 1 am stared him down, signaling that he needed to give in to sleep before he crashed from exhaustion.
But the minute he was laying down, and the lights were off, his body buzzed with anticipation. His stomach twisted, awaiting the woman, whose eyes called to him like a siren.
He shut his eyes, gently grabbing his semi. He stroked himself over and over again, getting a little rougher each time as the scene settled into his head once again.
But this was different. The woman was no longer on the river bank, but rather right in front of him.
“Toge?” She laughed, clearly amused with his confusion.
“Toge. Look at me.” She purred, leaning towards him, her mouth brushing against the spot on his neck just below his ear.
He shivered against her touch, feeling the water from her hair drip onto his thighs, as she worked her body to straddle him.
“Y/n?” He croaked, voice horse from disuse. At first, he wasn’t even sure he had your name right, but after feeling you sit down in his lap, and squeezing your hips in his hands, he remembered.
He remembered stolen kisses, and quiet mornings where he pressed his hips into yours. He remembered loud moans and rough cries. God, he remembered falling in love with you a hundred times.
“I missed you Toge. But you always come back to me. Tell me, are you an artist in your next life too?” You said so casually, like you weren’t grinding down on his cock, rubbing your mound against his erection. Teasing him and leaving him breathless, and unfocused.
He nodded sharply, and began to let his hands roam your skin, squishing, pinching, and kneading the plush of thighs, hips, breasts, and ass. Anything he could reach and feel.
He moaned as his tip caught on your clit, you inhaled quickly at the touch.
He gently guided your mouth to his, kissing you hard and passionately. His fingers danced across your abdomen, down to the place you needed him most.
“Inu-, please.” You begged, feeling his fingers slide through your folds. Collecting the slick that had pooled there while you were grinding on his lap.
Those long, pale fingers that you had always admired. A pianist’s hand, you recalled vaguely. He was always one for the arts.
He smiled lovingly as he pushed one finger into your core.
You hummed at the feeling.
He began to move his finger in and out of you, curling his finger at just the right spot that had you dizzy. He added a second finger, carefully removing his legs from underneath you and laying you on your back.
He froze for just a moment. Enraptured by your ethereal beauty. The way the sun highlighted your best features, the way you looked against the mossy ground, breathless. He wanted to paint you a hundred times more.
You were a goddess, and he was forever chasing your divinity.
When you wiggled impatiently underneath him, he led his other hand to your chin. Moving your face to look him in the eye.
Embarrassed at his steady eye contact while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you shifted your gaze away.
He grabbed your chin a little rougher this time.
“Look at me.”
His voice was rough, but commanding. Your body stilled at the demand. Something about him made it so hard to disobey. Shyly, you returned his gaze.
His hands were ruthless. He rolled your sensitive buds between his thumb and forefinger with one hand, while the other refused to relent between your thighs.
With the skill only he could possess he hit that pleasurable little spot inside of you, again and again, bringing you to your release.
He wanted to paint you a hundred times more. But like this. With his hand inside of you, bringing you to a finish. He wanted to paint the pretty little way your eye brows furrowed and your mouth opened, desperately trying to hide your moans. He wanted to paint the way you looked when his cock was reached deep inside you. He wanted to paint the way your hand grasped intently at the moss, like it was your only salvation. Like he was your only salvation.
He brought the hand, covered in your release to his own mouth, and licked between his long pale fingers.
Then leaned down for a tender kiss, as you spread your legs for him.
He shifted between your legs, hands fluttering across your thighs, and hips, and chest.
He kissed you like he would never have you again. He kissed you like a goodbye, as he began to push himself in. Your back arched hard, as he kept pressing himself into you until his pelvis was flush with your own.
He pulled back, just enough to keep the tip in, and slammed into you, pushing himself in to the hilt.
He rocked you back and forth under him, balls slapping your ass as he continued to kiss and suck on all the sensitive parts of you he could reach. Leaving little hickeys and love bites in place of his mouth. Like quickly shifting memories, here now, but soon forgotten.
With a particularly hard thrust, you moaned, feeling his tip hit that extra sweet spot in you that had you clenching down hard on him.
He whined at the feeling, and thrusted his hips into you again, hitting the same spot.
“T-toge!” You cried, as he kept abusing your core.
“I’m s-so close” your purred, scratching your nails down his back, assuredly leaving angry read marks behind.
“Me too.” He rasped in part groan and part whisper.
“Cum for me.” He said, his voice suddenly strong with the demand.
And your body gives in completely to his command. So willing to please him as you orgasm hard.
Stars in your eyes, as your body is wracked with waves of pleasure.
With a rough cry, he follows closely behind.
And like a true artist, he paints your insides white, like a putting the finishing touches on a masterpiece.
You both pant and slowly pull apart. He lays in his back next to you. Your chests heave in unison, trying desperately to catch your breaths.
Toge grabbed your hand in his, holding on tightly, afraid that he would lose you if he let go.
“I love you.” He whispered, his voice broke, like he had been screaming for hours.
“I love you too Toge.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.
A heavy feeling settled in your chest, and lump pushed its way into your throat. This is where it always ended. Where he left. Where he disappeared for too long, and where you had to again wait for him to return to you.
You snuggled into his side, and kissed his neck. Then you began to suck gently. Determined to leave a little mark for him to remember you.
“Promise you’ll come back soon?” You said, holding out your pinky finger to him.
He nodded, intertwining his pinky with yours, and kissed your head.
And then he was gone. Just like every time before. And you were alone once again.
***
The grating sound of his alarm forced toge awake from his hazy dream. While he couldn’t remember specifics, he definitely remembered a beautiful woman, and something about love.
As he dressed in front of his mirror he caught sight of a red spot on his neck, just under his ear. It was darkening to a purple.
A hickey? His hand traced the edges of it.
With an oddly newfound inspiration, Toge sat down to paint. He was going to paint a woman in love, and lust, a vague and mysterious woman, a woman that he hoped he would see again someday.
An: thank you so much for reading!!!
This was my first time doing nsfw, so I hoped you liked it and I did okay. I tried to make it more soft and romantic, just because it felt like it went along with the idea more. Anyway, let me know what you think and please please send in requests!!
I wanna know what y’all want to see more of! And how I can further improve my writing!
Also, sorry that it’s so long, I was having a lot of fun writing this!!
Thanks a bunches!!
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@000waterlily000
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mariacallous · 3 months
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‘I don’t like it when a comedian just spouts his own political views and relies on the audience agreeing with him to get a round of applause,’ announces Ricky Gervais in his new Netflix Special Armageddon. For 60-minutes Gervais, clad in his usual black t-shirt and jeans get-up, tells jokes about dwarfs, gay people, ‘disabled creatures’, African babies with AIDs, Chinese people eating dogs, people pretending to be asylum seekers, people pretending to have ADHD, students taking micky mouse degrees, Greta Thunberg, homeless people (‘fucking horrible’) and the fragile and narcissistic ‘woke’ youth. Which is to say that Gervais just spouts his own political views and relies on the audience agreeing with him to get a round of applause.
Gervais’s portrayal of David Brent in mockumentary The Office (2002) was a work of comic genius. Brent, a hapless white-collar middle manager who desperately wants to be popular, cuts a pathetic but ultimately sympathetic figure. The viewer didn’t so much hate Brent as feel sorry for him; he was an uncalibrated fool but a well meaning one, hence the happy ending written for him in the Christmas Specials that brought the curtain down on the story in 2003. Gervais foolishly resurrected Brent in 2016 for a feature length spin-off, Life on the Road (2016), this time without the grounding influence of his original co-writer on The Office Stephen Merchant. All of a sudden the charm had gone out of the franchise and Brent had morphed into something genuinely tragic and repulsive, trucking in boring jokes about gays and fat people.
Expressing any form of reservation or note of disapproval about anti-woke comedy nowadays is to get oneself marked down as an invertebrate. For those of us who possess a strong enough constitution to sit through jokes that poke fun at the shibboleths of political correctness - provided they are actually funny - retorts like this don’t hold much water. But I’ve come to realise that such humour is increasingly sustained by a section of the audience being reliably ‘offended’ by it and kicking off. How else to keep the lucrative conceit going which says that rich middle aged white men telling rollicking jokes about asylum seekers are heroic truth-tellers saying the unsayable? These days Gervais’s adoring fanbase seem more enthusiastic at the prospect of upsetting their political opponents than about the material itself. And who could blame them: most of the jokes in Armageddon are hackneyed and stale - ‘Doctor, Doctor, I keep thinking I’m a pair of curtains’; ‘You are then’. Heady stuff that is indeed guaranteed to ‘annoy all the right people’.
Netflix describes Armageddon as ‘controversial takes on political correctness and oversensitivity in a taboo-busting comedy special about the end of humanity’. Yet those on the receiving end of Gervais’s barbs are hardly considered off limits by the wider culture: illegal immigrants, the homeless and transgender people are all regularly subjected to invective from government politicians and Britain’s overwhelmingly right-wing media. By all means make an off-colour joke about those groups if you wish: I’m a big boy and I know how to use the remote control. But you won’t convince me that publicly flogging these tabloid bête noires makes one a gutsy truth teller. It’s true that a disability charity condemned Armageddon before it was released on Christmas Day for a joke Gervais makes about terminally ill children. But it’s also true that Gervais is still on Netflix telling the joke, which perhaps gives a good indication of just how risqué this style of humour really is.
One of the biggest cheers from the audience during Gervais’s performance in Armageddon erupts in response to a fatuous joke about mobs pulling down statues originally put up to honour slave traders - another example of woke hypocrisy apparently. ‘He was a slave trader, pull down the fucking statue.’ ‘He built the hospital, should we pull that down too?’ ‘No, leave the hospital’. It’s certainly true that wealthy people have historically (and not just historically) tried to launder their reputations through philanthropy (and on this note Gervais enjoys boasting about how wealthy he is and how much money he donates to animals, who he prefers to humans). But you needn’t take a course in critical race theory to recognise that those who became uncontrollably rich from the slave trade might have set aside some of their tainted money for similar ends. ‘Pride and vanity have built more hospitals than all the virtues together,’ wrote the Dutch physician Bernard de Mandeville in The Fable of the Bees, his eighteenth century polemic against philanthropic hypocrisy.
It isn’t for me to tell a comedian who the ‘correct’ target of his humour ought to be - comedy is subjective after all. But then Gervais’s current shtick is of a piece with right-wing populism more generally, characterised as it is by a servility to the very power it ostensibly rails against. I’m no more required to accept Gervais’s assessment of himself as a brave heretic saying the unsayable than I am obliged to join in with the hysterical blue pencil-wielding critics who really do want to see him cancelled. As to who is currently coming out on top, Armageddon is apparently the highest grossing single stand-up performance ever, bringing in £1,410,000 for a recent show at the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles. Cancel culture indeed.
At one time conservatives and reactionaries would doggedly stand athwart history yelling Stop. Nowadays they need constant reassurance that they are still the plucky countercultural underdogs they imagined themselves to be in the halcyon days of their youth. Which is understandable I suppose. Nobody wants to be the angry young man whose waistband has inexorably expanded along with his list of blimpish grievances. ‘I think I am woke, but I think that word has changed,’ says Gervais. In other words it’s not him, it’s us. ‘No-one likes a white middle aged man anymore,’ laments Gervais at another point in the show. I’ve heard that one before too.
I used to enjoy Ricky Gervais but when I think of him today I always imagine some braying face demanding to know how ‘triggered’ I am by something puerile he’s said. This ‘type’ is seemingly ubiquitous at the moment: everything is geared toward getting a rise out of the libs and sticking it to the man in a way that doesn’t threaten one’s status as a servant of power (am I still allowed to say “man”? hehe - you get the gist).
The role of humour according to Gervais is ‘to laugh at bad shit to get us through it’. Which isn’t a terrible definition, though I suppose it depends on what one considers the ‘bad shit’ to be. I found much of the material in Armageddon indistinguishable from the endless bleating we hear in some quarters about the country going to the dawgs because of foreigners and queers and the young with their trendy ailments and political correctness et cetera. I can’t say I feel hysterical or offended by jokes about that stuff - soporific is more the word that springs to mind. Perhaps I should just be grateful that Gervais didn’t make an ‘Orange man bad’ joke. Maybe he’s saving those gags for his next Netflix Special when Donald Trump is President of the United States again. Important to laugh at the truly bad shit first though right.
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richardcypher · 10 days
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Legend of the Seeker 2x07 'Resurrection'
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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 163- Soul Seekers
Summary: Rahl gains strength. Josie experiences it in her very soul. She and Legolas speak of current events. Thoughts of Thranduil are heard by the Prince. The Elvenking finds an opening. The King and the Prince have words. A threat is made. Jace, Clover and Matthew enjoy breakfast until upsetting news triggers both Clover and the vampire. The dhampir gets a glimpse of new magic. Legolas faces unexpected feelings as he and Lola bond over shared concerns. The Prince also bonds with his sightful soul sister, but not in the way he expected.
*Chapter Warnings* language, angst,
Chapter characters: Thranduil, Josie, Legolas, Lola, Boromir, Leean, Narcisse, Rahl, Amara, Conde', Jace, Clover, Matthew,
Chapter word count: 6,080
Stories Stories Stories Masterlist
"Josie, Lola. It is best if we all go inside." Legolas proclaimed after his father's manic meltdown that triggered a chain of earthquake like effects all throughout middle earth.
The Black Rhun was still angry as white capped waves rocked and raced with the whistling wind and a sinister stormy sky of dancing lightning levitated low above ominous ocean.
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"Legolas. What was that??? Jareth??" you panted, refusing to let go of the rail you clung to for a crutch.
Boromir had the same question in his panicked eyes and when they connected with Legolas's, the answer had become crystal clear to the man of Gondor.
"Please, my lady. Come inside. The conditions are not stable out here." replied the King as you still believed him to be, totally avoiding your question as he reached for you.
You refused to release the railing as Lola quickly took Leean inside with Boromir, for you suddenly caught sight of Stephane standing on the shoreline.
"No. Stephane. He's out there alone. Harker could be lurking!"
You still cared deeply for Narcisse, no matter what state of mind he was in, for it wasn't his fault.
Narcisse, in his altered state, stood vulnerable at the water's dangerous edge, flooded by flashes of lightning and happily hypnotized by it. He knew in that moment that the Elvenking was in fact alive and was no longer in the evil clutches of the goblin king. It didn't matter to Rahl, but it certainly did to Stephane who was unable to overpower the dark lord. What was still unclear though to both warlocks that were trapped in the same body, was if Thranduil was a product of Jareth's resurrected evil dead. Either way, the Elvenking was back and to put it quite simply, he was pissed.
"Narcisse!!!" you screeched as the howling gusty winds abused your body.
The man that retained Stephane's physical image, made no acknowledgment to your shrill call as he remained locked in the mammoth moon's blinding luminosity, as if he were being charged by it's incandescence.
"Ok, well maybe you'll answer to this." you mumbled.
"Darken Rahl!!!!"
Your tactic seemed to have worked. Narcisse slowly turned to you in an eerie manner and then, before your very bedazzled eyes, he vanished.
You released the rail and spun around multiple times, your eyes darting about the grounds for any sight of him. The wind ceased like it had simply been shut off by a switch and all went silent as if you were in the eye of the storm. Your attention quickly went to Legolas, who was now standing just inside the patio doors comforting both a crying Leean and Lola and then, there came a sound of flapping, like the wings of a very large bird.
As you whipped around, there in the moon's path, appeared exactly that. A white feathered species you couldn't place with the wingspan of a giant eagle's and it was heading right for you.
The raptor like animal screeched in it's descent and morphed into ribbons of black smoke as it landed and out of that vision swiftly walked a red robed man with long jet black strands and Stephane's face.
You froze solid, paralyzed from head to toe as his blazing blue orbs glared you down and he didn't stop. His long fast strides carried forth, right to you and through you as if he...or you...were a hologram.
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Gasping loud and heavily, your eyes rolled back as your body followed suit and you found yourself slowly falling to the ground....and then, cool soft hands vigorously but gently caressed your cheeks.
"Josie! Josie my lady. Wake up." Legolas's frantic voice echoed through your head.
Your eyes fluttered open to see widened moonstone's and platinum strands flowing over you in the lingering breeze of Rahl's hit and run, for as you flung to your feet, the wicked warlock was gone.
"Where...what the hell was...where did he go??"
"Whom do you speak of? There...is no one here Josie."
"Yes?? Yes there was...I...you didn't see that??"
You gazed off in the direction Rahl been going to see nothing but an empty patio. Jesus, did you hallucinate again? No...no, it was real, wasn't it? It had to be. You had felt him. You could smell him, the pepper, as you clutched your dress and buried your nose into it. He had moved right through you...through your very soul.
"I...I have to find Stephane. I...I...ah...ahhh...CHOO!!!"
The sneeze was so powerful, it knocked you right into Legolas's arms. Now you knew it had to be real. The spicy pepper triggered your sneeze, just as it had when Rahl's panther form blasted his scorching breath over you, burning your nose just as it was doing now. You needed to confront Stephane, or...Rahl and you needed to try and coax out the man who loved you, the man who had the power help your fever dreams, per se. But first...
"Leggy...I...I'm really frightened." you admitted in a most vulnerable way as you gazed up into the elf's worried eyes, which wasn't about what his father had just done. It was about you. The Prince noticed something off about you and if Haldir had been there, he would have been the first to see it with his superpower of reading one's soul.
"That is quite understandable after what has occurred but..."
"No...not about any of that. It's...do...oh god...I don't even know how to say it. D..do..you think that...Jareth could have brought...."
Your words were ceased by Legolas's single word as his eyes darted to the forest.
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"Amara..." he whispered with a grimace, for her scent burned his eyes as well, one that only his kind could pick up.
"What? Where??" you asked with a gasp as you spun around, but did not see her anywhere. "I..I have been looking for her! I think she knows where Garrett is. Amara!!!"
"I do not see her, but I can sense her."
Legolas knew that Amara knew he had returned and was watching him, waiting to collect on their arrangement. He also knew that she knew his father had caused the sonic like boom and that was why she was hiding. If there was anyone the Seelie queen feared, it was the Elvenking and it brought a slight curling smile to Legolas's lips, for he knew his father's hatred of her would soon unbind him to the fiendish faerie.
"Josie, please. We must go inside now."
"But...I need to speak to her! She's obviously here for a reason?? Garrett...I..I saw him with Kate in a vision and I..I believed it at first, but...he woudln't..he wouldn't do that and I think Amara knows something."
"Amara will not surface right now. Even she has fears. And the vampire is not my concern and should not be yours at this time, or even at all for that matter. If Kate is back, like you say, then it is not wise to be outside. Now, Josie, please...."
"Stop it Leggy. Don't tell me what to be concerned about. And...what even WAS that apocalyptic explosion anyways?? You never answered me. Surely, you must know something? When you arrived here, you said you sensed something in the air and now this happens less than a day later."
Legolas had never straight up lied to you, especially not to your face and the fact that he had to do it, had the power to turn his stomach.
"It was possibly Jareth, as you had asked." he rattled off as he walked to the opened patio doors so he would not have to look you in the eyes, for you would see his untruth through the windows of his soul.
You glanced behind you once more into the darkness, feeling uncertain that it had been the goblin king. Jareth was powerful, but was the wacked out warlock THAT powerful? The familiar vibes in the air were hard for you to ignore. This felt more...elvenly....and Legolas said possibly.
"Yeah...possibly. But...what if...."
You turned to the anxious elf lord with resumed thoughts of Thranduil that you were scared to reveal, which forced Legolas's lying eyes to meet yours after he heard you finish your sentence, not yet realizing you had not spoke them aloud.
"he brought Thranduil back?"
"If anything is possible, it is not that." he immediately responded, feeling that much to be true, for Thranduil had not been summoned by the book of shadows.
With gaping eyes, you slowly walked to Legolas, who had stepped inside and held his hand out to you. Your good hand slid into his and then you yanked him to the side once the door was secured.
"Legolas?? How...I...I spoke those words in my mind!"
His head tilted and his eyes narrowed, then widened when he recalled the other times this had happened, believing it to have either been the dark forest's trickery or his longing for you due to your prior separation.
"So it was real..." Legolas softly spoke as he gently touched your cheek.
"Leggy? What...was real? What just happened?"
"I..I have heard you before, calling my name. More than once."
Reality finally struck you as well. "Oh my god, yes. I...I have heard you too! But I was sure it was only a dream or vision of some sort, because I...I saw the orcs! I saw you fighting them. You were near the Celduin...which that is where it really happened and Boromir was injured. Leggy, how is this possible??"
"It must be that we both share my father's blood. I am just not sure why this has never happened until now or that it only seems to occur at certain times. It may be due to your shield, which you can control like myself and my father ca...could."
And Legolas knew that was exactly why his father was so angry, for blocking him out.
"Yes...I think you are right Legolas. When I am weakened, my mind is vulnerable as well. It makes sense now and...oh wow. So does seeing your grandmother, Carandolel! I...I saw her once when your father was visiting hers and Oropher's secret graves. She...she had came to him. And I saw her yet again. She...she is the one who pulled me from the ocean after I was knocked out of Garrett's arms. And at Lestat's too...in the mirror! She was with Thranduil! Legolas, we ALL share the same blood."
You smiled and then so did he. "We do. Josie...about my father..."
Due to the Prince's distraction, the Elvenking found a doorway into his son's mind...and soul.
"Yesss Legolas. About your father."
Being caught off guard by his father's intrusion, Legolas knew he had to quickly find a way to excuse himself, for he could not hold a feasible conversation with both you and the mad King's plausible words at the same time, nor did he feel right in doing so.
"Legolas??" you asked as he abandoned his words. "What about Thranduil?"
Leeanduil conveniently began to fuss and squeal as she stared up at her big brother, relieving him of his non-existent reasons to depart, for now he had one.
"Let me take her for a little walk through the halls, if that is alright with you Josie?" he quickly asked as he gently pulled the petite Princess from Lola's arms.
"Yes, of course Leggy. It will calm her after all this commotion. She loves spending time with you and she certainly seems to want you right now."
After Legolas left and before you decided to go look for Stephane, you stood with Lola to keep her company until Legolas returned and also to ask her about the young girl you saw earlier.
"Lola...is there by chance a little girl staying here or visiting, possibly about ten years old, reddish brown hair? She..she said her name is Rosie?"
"Hmmm. It does not ring a bell. I know of every child in this castle, even visiting ones. Why do you ask?"
You felt your stomach do a flip, realizing it was either another vision or a hallucination, but something inside your soul told you it was different, but different how?
"I'm just trying to figure out what's real anymore. My visions, dreams and such, they are changing. Lola...I saw her. I...spoke..to her. I've seen her before, long ago in a dream. Who could she be?"
"I'm sorry Josie. I wish I could be of better assistance."
The man who was told to you by Lola to be Conde', Francis's deputy assistant, approached Lola and offered his hand with a sweet smile.
"You could assist me my lady. Would you like to dance?"
Lola seemed starstruck by the tall, dark and handsome man's offer and quickly accepted.
"I'd love to."
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You giggled as they left hand in hand and watched them dance for awhile until you suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to eat and strangely, all you craved was meat.
As you nitpicked through the buffet, choosing solely ham and chicken carvings, Legolas was off in his chambers, simultaneously entertaining his sister and trying to stabilize his father.
"Tell me my only begotten son, which storm was it that weakened your mind? Mine, or the one that brews between your legs for my Queen?"
The Elvenking calmly paced about his chambers with a wine goblet firmly in hand, continuing his charade of having returned to his old self, but Legolas had concluded long before his arrival in Dorwinion that it was a trick to reclaim his daughter.
"I assure you I suffer from no such storm and yours was received loud and clear."
"Is that so? Explain to me then, why my attempts to speak with you have been blatantly disregarded."
"There have been many happenings here, some that you are not aware of, that required my full attention."
"I am quite aware of where your full attention has been. Here....you say? That being of Lord Narcisse's realm and not on your return travel with my daughter? Or...Josephine as you were ordered to do?"
"Yes Adar. I remain in Dorwinion. Traveling is not safe for Leeanduil or Josie. Harker threatens the lands. He has killed many of Narcisse's men and Jareth's whereabouts are unknown as are any of the dead he has brought forth."
"Surely you do not wish me to believe such nonsense? Your proficient skills, along with Haldir's, the bowman's and Josephine's power are quite sufficient for travel."
"I disagree. Four of us, all highly skilled, myself, Boromir, Aragorn and Gimli were all attacked by Jareth's man made orcs and Boromir was severely wounded. Surely you do not want Leean to be caught in a war?? Haldir, Bard, Aragorn and Gimli are not even here. It is only Boromir and I."
"Tell me Legolas, have you informed Josephine of my existence as I have commanded? For surely, if you had, her love for her King would not keep here there."
"Surely, her love for her daughter would. She would not be so willing as you are to risk her safety. Although she had saved Boromir, I feel her powers are now not in tact and for unknown reasons, she has been concealing that from me. She has suffered greatly over your loss and it has taken an everlasting toll on her. She even believes Jareth may have brought you back from the dead as well and wishes to know my thoughts of it."
Thranduil's thoughts briefly veered off again to the words of your soulful letter and to seeing you crying. He also recalled your possible projection when he held and kissed you in Mirkwood's forest and he even recalled his own out of body travel as the white hart. Your reactions at both instances to seeing him, verified the grief you suffered that Legolas spoke of and he could only figure that you did not remember it or believe it to be real, which would explain why you still believed him dead, aside from Legolas not telling you the truth and the Elvenking...well...he did not care in the least for your pain.
"Preposterous. The spell of resurrection merely opens the door to life. The dead have a choice if they want to walk through it, for they know what they will become. Those of light become dark and those of darkness become death in itself. They become lost souls."
"How do you know this to be true?"
"Because even I would not choose such a fate."
"You would not? You relished in what Jareth had done to you and now you claim your own soul is yours again, but I do not feel that it is. Even in the Elvenking's natural darkness, he would not risk his Queen and daughter's well being. If you want Josie to know you are alive, why do you not inform her yourself? Is it because you do not want her to know who you are? For then, she would not wish to come and so you have forced me to do your bidding."
"You dare to question who I am?? Was my storm too subtle for you to know your place??!! If I have not received confirmation of your impending arrival by the rise of the sun, you will have confirmation of mine. I will come to reclaim what is mine and you, my insubordinate son, will suffer dearly."
Legolas then knew his father had closed the conversation and he now regretted calling him out, but by doing so, it proved to him just as he believed. Thranduil was not Thranduil. His soul was severely compromised and if he came to Dorwinion, all hell would break loose, mostly for you.
As the sun had set in middle earth, it was rising in the modern world of Manhattan with Jace and Clover awaking in each other's arms after their night of love confessions and sweet love making.
"Good morning my beautiful Clover." the blue and brown eyed warlock softly whispered with a smile as he kissed the ginger haired dhampir's forehead.
"Mmmm." she hummed as she stretched and yawned, squinting at the sunlight beaming through the stained glass window. "I gotta get used to not being called Raven. It's been years since I have went by Clover and it was a brief period since dhampirs grow so fast."
"Yes, well, batten down the hatches, for there is much more here to get used to. Come on. Take a shower with me and then I will show you the rest of the compound."
"You mean this old church?"
"Yes, but remember, I told you it's real contents are only visible to the warlocks unless we show you, which is what I said I would do. Chop chop. I smell Matthews cooking and I am famished after last night."
Jace wickedly grinned, slapped her ass and hopped out of bed, standing in bare form with his hand extended out, among "other" things.
Clover's grin matched his as she quickly took his hand and was pulled up against his growing girth, only to then be swooped up into his arms and carried off to the bathroom, laughing and squealing.
After an hour of more love making under the steaming stream of water, the two dressed and headed to the dining area where Matthew De Clermont sat, sipping on his wine. It was always 5 o'clock in a vampire's world.
The dark haired vamp's cobalt eyes gazed at a blushing Clover and then they rolled to Jace with his wet slicked back hair. One would have thought by Matthew's expression, that he did not approve of their obvious night of passion, but that was just his usual look, for he really had nothing to smile about, not for at least 20 more years when he would unite with Leeanduil. All in all, he was thrilled for his pal Jace, but even still...he was quite envious and lonely.
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"Now that you both are....recharged...I presume you will be heading to Dorwinion as we discussed last evening over dinner?"
"Yes." Jace confirmed. "When the sun sets here, for it will then be daylight there. Speaking of food, what is that I smell?"
"Scrambled eggs, and an array of "undercooked" meats to suit the needs of our guest. Strength must be kept up for what's to come."
"Cheese. You put cheese in the eggs right Matty?" Jace asked with serious concern.
A slight and short lived smile came over Matthew's lips. "Sharp cheddar, of course."
"Hell yes!" Jace applauded and bolted off to the kitchen. "Hey! No biscuits and gra...oh, never mind, Found it!"
Clover giggled as Matthew resumed his resting bitch face, then pulled out a cell phone and began scrolling.
"What...is that?" she curiously asked, for she had never seen one before.
"You, my dear, have a lot to learn of the modern world. This is a cell phone. I can speak to others on it, out loud or by texting."
"T..texting?"
"You know, typing words? Like this."
Matthew held the mobile device out and demonstrated as he typed in her name.
Clover's blazing blues popped wide open. "Oh my. All I have ever known was the power of a pencil. How bad ass!"
"I'll tell you what's bad ass!" Jace happily attested as he sat a filled plate before her. "This! Babe, you gotta try the biscuits and sausage gravy. It's fucking killer."
Clover chuckled and rolled her eyes. "You and your biscuits."
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"Damn straight. Although these are way better than KFC's. Matty here is a master chef."
The two ate with Jace scarfing down 3 plates to Clover's one while Matt enjoyed his wine. Once they were finished, the vampire then spoke as he looked up from his phone with dire eyes.
"There has been a change of plans for your trip tonight. We will all be going."
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"Matthew? What is it?" Jace inquired with all seriousness to match the vexed vamp's face.
"I have word from my contact that other vampires, dealers to be exact, are sniffing around the area. There's only one reason for that to happen and that is the probability that they have picked up on Clover's scent."
"What??!!" Clover shouted in panic and flung from her seat.
"Easy, easy sweetheart." Jace lovingly said as he took her in his arms to comfort her. "I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. I put my life on it. Matthew, who is the contact?"
"Ryan. I don't think you have met him but he is a vampire I trust with my own life. Although, Clover, you may know who he is?"
'I..I'm sorry? I..I do not know of any vampires named Ryan. Should I? I mean, I have been imprisoned half of my life in case you have forgotten?"
"No, I have not forgotten. My mistake. Garrett must not have spoken of him."
"Garrett?? What the fuck does he have to do with any of this? Garrett hates me!"
"Hey, calm down." Jace firmly stated. "If Matthew trusts this vampire, then so do I."
"Ok?? But I don't trust Garrett!"
All the commotion triggered Matthew's blood rage. He stood so fast, slamming his hands upon the table, knocking one of the wooden legs loose and sending Clover's head to burrow in Jace's armpit.
"Enough! As far as I am aware, Garrett and Ryan do not speak. They have not seen each other in years. Now, do you want to live or die?? Prepare yourselves. We leave in the twilight hours."
Matthew was gone in the blink of an eye and Jace did as he was told.
"Come on. I need to show you some things as promised, and then we will prepare.
Down the steps, Jace led a frazzled and frightened Clover to the foyer of the old church that only showed a battered and broken interior.
"Ok." Jace sighed. "Try to remain calm. What I am about to do may look painful and scary, but trust me, I have done this many times and it only stings a a bit."
"Jesus Jace. Remain calm knowing death dealers are still seeking out my soul and also after what you just told me? What the fuck is going on?"
"Did I not just say trust me? I know what I am doing Clover."
"Fine. Have at it then." she huffed.
Jace then took out what looked like a pen to the dhampir. "This...is my stele that I told you about. The thing my father took from me. I told you I went back for it after you left with Thranduil."
"Yes, I remember that/ So, what's so big about it? Is it some kind of magic wand or something?"
Jace grinned. "Something like that. Watch."
He rolled up the sleeve of his black leather jacket and placed the tip of the object close to his skin. It then lit up as Jace began to burn some kind of symbol onto his forearm, which smoked and even made a searing noise that the tougher than nails warlock actually flinched over with a hissing sound.
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"Jace! Oh my god, you're...burning yourself!!"
"It's alright Clover. I'm drawing the rune to show you my underground world per se. It will heal right up in seconds and look merely like a tattoo. Now, look straight ahead."
The old ruins of the church began to transform right before Clover's astonished eyes, into a futuristic world of things she had only ever read about in books. Technology and people were everywhere, mostly dresses like Jace.
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"Oh...my...god..." Clover whispered, quite hysterically as she froze solid. "C..can...they...see us?"
Jace bellowed in laughter. "Of course they can see us silly. Come on. I'll show you around and introduce you to the people I call my real family."
"People? they're...humans?"
"Somewhat. They're warlocks and witches, just like me and you, well...minus the vampiness, but still just as powerful." he chuckled.
"So...that little gadget can do all of this? Hide you from the world?" Clover asked as they walked around the digitalized fortress that could have no way fit inside the simple two story church...but it did.
"It can and it can do much much more my lady. Do you remember when I told you I needed this to travel through portals? Well, this will open a portal for us to hit middle earth in 2.1 seconds. If I had had it that day in goblin town, Thranduil would have been eating our dust."
"So, that's what all those symbols are on your body? Runes? I can't believe I called them tattoos when I first met you. But wait...I...I saw one on Josie's neck...at Lestat's? How does she have one? I mean...she's..not your sister."
"She's still blood though. It must have been drawn on her somehow, most likely in a dream, from someone of blood trying to protect her. A rune placed on the neck signifies an intensified angelic power that one of light would wear. I saw it on her too but it was faded or dormant per se. Thing is, I'm pretty sure she knows nothing of what it truly is and I didn't have time to explain it when I had to explain being her brother. Let's just say, she's one super powered witch, even without the rune mark."
"Great...I'm definitely dead when she finds out what I've done."
"Hey, no. I won't let that happen. I'll talk to her, try to explain things on your behalf."
"Oh great, she'll just kill you too then."
"Alright, enough. I said I will keep you safe and I will. I love you Clover. Let's go mingle and what not to waste some time until twilight, then we will zap across the pond."
The castle party continued on into the night despite the earth's shake up and now you were dealing with Catherine's soul stealing glare from across the dance hall as she mingled with her son Francis and his Queen Mary. Still, there was no sign of Stephane. He was either avoiding the entire shindig or simply just..you.
When you returned to the hall and joined Legolas and Leean, Conde' and Lola were dancing once again.
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The Lake Town deputy seemed to be smitten with her and possibly she felt the same, although you knew her heart truly lied with Legolas, but he had made it abundantly clear to you that his feelings were not reciprocated, still you tried once more to spark his interest despite the fact he had told you to drop it.
"Leggy. Doesn't Lola look so beautiful in that red velvet dress? You should ask her to dance too."
The blonde elf had always been a spitting image of his father, and in that moment, did he ever as his eyes narrowed and side eyed you.
"I know what you are trying to do. Did I not ask you to relinquish such attempts?"
"Oh, don't be a party pooper Leggy. It's just a simple question and a dance."
"A simple question of entrapment and a dance I would much rather share with you."
You sighed and turned back to Lola who now wandered off with Mary's sister Kenna after her dance ended.
"Well...I suppose you, me and Leean could share a dance?" you offered with a grin as you stared straight ahead, feeling Legolas' eyes burning in your direction.
He happily stood up, cradling Leean in one arm and extending his other to you.
"My lady. May we have this dance?"
"Why yes my lord, we shall."
You took his hand with a sweet smile and he led you to the dance floor and for not one, but two harp filled songs, the three of you danced and twirled as you and Legolas chuckled along with Leeanduil's giggles and coos.
Lola headed for a goblet of wine as Kenna went to converse with Bash. From what you understood from Lola, Kenna used to fool around with the deputy warlock and that is why she tagged along with Francis and Mary. You hoped that Bash's fancy of her would not deter him from going to find Delphine during the night when all turned in form the party.
As Lola was making her way back to you, she caught sight of a vision she wished she could unsee. Narcisse kissing Claude, Catherine's daughter, in a remote corner of the hall. If there was any way to stick it to his wicked ex, and even to you, that was it.
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Lola was now between a rock and a hard place, for she knew you should know, but she had no inkling of how to tell you. Her gut was telling her not to, for she did not want to add fuel to the fire that was already burning between you and her employer. Also, she did not want to face Narcisse's wrath if she were found out to be the tattle tale. It would soon turn out though, that Lola wouldn't have to say a word.
The gigantic grandfather clock struck 10 o'clock, echoing through the ballroom and the people were getting more rowdy. You could clearly see that the real party was just beginning and you didn't want Leean around the all the noise.
"Lola, I feel it is time for Leean to turn in for the night. Legolas, would you walk them back to my chambers please?"
There was that side eye again. "Of course, but I will return after my sister is asleep." he duly noted with adamant eyes.
"You...do not want to feed her and tuck her in?" Lola asked, a bit confused.
"No, Lola. I do not. Is that alright with you??" you snapped, not even realizing you had.
"Josie? Are..you alright?" Legolas then asked, in which you huffed, rolled your eyes and walked away.
Legolas reluctantly escorted Lola back to your chambers where she decided to voice her concerns over your behavior that Legolas had already picked up on much earlier.
"Legolas, something...is not right with her. I realize she has been drinking and would not want to breast feed, but it is not like her to not want to put her to bed like she does every night."
"Yes, I would agree with you. I believe the night's earlier events have caused her great worry upon all that she is already suffering. A bottle of Mirkwood's water will be suffice."
"I just feel so bad for her." Lola sympathized. "Mostly everyone she loves is gone. Her King, her dad, Haldir, Garrett, her brother that she found out tonight is not her brother and now learns she has another brother she never knew about and then there's this whole Jareth and Harker ordeal and not to mention Lord Narcisse is also not acting himself. He freed that wretched Catherine which adds to Josie's distress. She was quite upset about something else earlier too and cut her hand on a broken mirror that I believe she herself broke. I just do not know what to do for her Legolas. She's so lost and...I..I love her like a sister that I've never had. She's...she's my best friend and I think she is keeping things from me and...She's done so much for me and I just want to help her and I can't. She won't let me."
Lola shamefully turned from the Prince and began to quietly sob.
Legolas laid Leean down and took Lola's hand.
"Lola...I can see how deeply you care for her. I do as well. All that you said is true, but I know she did not mean to be cruel to you. It's not in her nature, even with all she has endured, which is why I am certain something has happened to cause her behavior. You say she cut her hand?"
Lola's leaking blue eyes peered up into Legolas's and for a split second, he felt something he never deemed possible. Attraction.
"Yes...but...I tended to her wound and...it looked pretty bad. Infected maybe and the healing water...it..it burned her."
Legolas's brows pinched together in confusion and concerned thought. "Burned? It should heal."
Lola fell against his chest in full blown tears. "What is happening Legolas? What can we do??"
The stunned elf froze for a moment, not sure what to do but his instincts, or maybe even unknown desires, quickly took over as he brought his arms up to cradle the fragile crying beauty.
"I..I wish to take her and Leean back home where it is safe, but...that cannot be at this time. It is too dangerous to travel."
Lola sniffled and raised her head to meet his sorrowful moonstones.
"And...me too? She..she said she would take me with her, that I..I was family to her. I mean..if..that is alright with you, since you are now the King of Mirkwood. I..I don't want to be left here alone."
Legolas found his fingers trailing over her tear soaked cheek, like satin to his touch.
"When the time comes, you are more than welcome in my kingdom, lady Lola."
There was a silence and an intense stare that delved into each other's souls and then, a sudden urge perplexed the Prince. An urge to kiss the girl.
As he slowly leaned down to do so, Leean began to cry. Legolas swiftly snapped out of his trance and then backed away with baffled eyes.
"I..I will tend to her. Why don't you relax in a bath to calm you while I do so and when you are finished, I will go tend to her mother as well."
"As you wish Prin..I mean King..Legolas." Lola bashfully stuttered and scurried off with butterflies fluttering through her very soul that she had never known to exist.
Legolas cradled and comforted his baby sister as he fed her and while she suckled, her tiny hand came to touch her big brother's cheek. In that moment, soul to soul, through the windows of their moonstones, Legolas realized what a very powerful Princess Leeanduil would be as he was taken aback by a vision. A vision she had the power to show him. A power unbeknownst to him that she had or could have at such a premature age, for she was only less than 2 months old. A power she possessed to show him things she had seen and also, like you, things that were to come...and the vision was so unsettling, that he swore he would never speak of it. It was of you and your distant future that would change everything as he knew it....as you knew it....as his father knew it.
@redeemer46
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ao3feed-skystar · 1 month
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Stars Will Fall
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/v6Sz2IU by TeethCreep Defection and Resurrection. Decepticon High command (+ a few select others) defect, so Megatron reflects and possibly heals... ??? or I HATE YOU MEGATRON KYS I HOPE U DIE U FUCKING BIYCH Its my story i can do whatever i want 🖕🖕🖕 Words: 745, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen, M/M, Multi Characters: Soundwave (Transformers), Shockwave (Transformers), Starscream (Transformers), Megatron (Transformers), Skywarp (Transformers), Thundercracker (Transformers), Frenzy (Transformers), Rumble (Transformers), Ravage (Transformers), Laserbeak (Transformers), Buzzsaw (Transformers), Sparklings (Transformers) Relationships: Megatron & Soundwave (Transformers), Megatron & Starscream (Transformers), Jetfire | Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers), Skywarp & Starscream & Thundercracker (Transformers), Shockwave/Soundwave (Transformers), Cassettes & Soundwave (Transformers), Jazz & Soundwave (Transformers), Shockwave & Starscream (Transformers), Soundwave & Starscream (Transformers) Additional Tags: Past Character Death, frenzy is dead sorryyyy, Autobot/Decepticon Cross-Faction Friendship, Decepticon Culture (Transformers), Seeker Culture (Transformers), Seeker Trines (Transformers), Platonic Relationships, platonic wavewave, THEY DEFECT BC I HATE MEGATRON 😊, Parent Soundwave (Transformers), Everyone Needs A Hug, not megatron tho, Starscream Redemption (Transformers), they make their own cause, Shockwave is a nerd, Asexual Character, Overstimulation, Mental Breakdown, autobots r confused af, winglord starscream, Seekers read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/v6Sz2IU
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thinplacesradio · 2 months
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stacked sound equipment and a radio with glowing green numbers. the image is distorted by VCR static. white text reads:
[026] THE SEEKER... A CALLER WAITS. THE SEEKER HEARS A VOICE ON THE RADIO.
listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:
[static, radio tuning]
[traveling sales rep: don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right b-]
[a high-register voice, not the Host’s:]
Car radio, yet again. Fixed, for now. It’s from a 2005 Honda CR-V, which I know is old, but, as you know, it’s been acting up for months now, um, and it finally just gave out on me. I don’t even know what worked to resurrect it here, but, well. [tools moving] The mystery of life, I guess. I’m sure it’ll start jumping stations again any day now.
[beep]
I could use a distraction so we are back to the transmitter. I’m building it from scratch instead of from a kit, uh, which basically means I’m just buying the parts that would have been in the kit separately, so I don’t really know if I’m saving money here or losing it. [tools clink] It’s pretty much kid stuff, but hey. It’s nice to go back to the basics sometimes, I guess. I think just to make it interesting I might take one of the old desktops to see if I can link it to some visuals? With different colors representing, I dunno, different letters, maybe? Maybe… make it so the words will show up as you tap the code in? Or I could just leave it with the binary, do kind of a black and white thing. I don’t know. [sigh] I don’t know.
[beep]
[phone ringing] [voicemail]
Hey, it’s me, you know what to do!
[beep]
[phone ringing] [voicemail]
Hey, it’s me, you –
[beep]
No one knows where she is, why does nobody know where she is. I - I think there’s something wrong.
[beep]
[phone ringing]
We’re sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected, or is no longer in service. To -
[beep]
I didn’t quit my job today. This isn’t really a project log, but I almost quit my job today, and I didn’t, and I, I think that deserves to be noted down, somewhere. I love what I do. But - doing it doesn’t seem as important anymore when I could be looking for her. I know I haven’t found a single thing, but that’s no reason to stop. I - [sigh]
I don’t know why I’m talking around it like this. Someone that matters to me is gone, and no one knows what happened, or why, or if - 
I wish she was just ghosting me, specifically. Like, that’s not something I want, at all, but I would take it if it meant that she was safe, living her life somewhere else. [sigh]
I don’t. I don’t think she’s dead. I really hope she isn’t dead. Sometimes I’d be at work glancing at the chat and there would be no new messages. Or at home with my phone on the table building myself a new desktop, and there would be no new messages. But I could still feel her on the other side, connected to me with that, I don’t know, electronic tether. Even when she wasn’t there, it helped knowing that she was somewhere.
That’s how it feels, still. I think she’s somewhere. I just don’t know where.
[voicemail]
Hiiiii, iris! Hi-riss! That’s nothing, sorry.  I texted you but I guess you must’ve lost track of time? I’ll just scale the building here and crawl in the IT window - you guys have windows, right? I feel like I imagine you in like a scifi basement most of the time. Anyway. I’m here, I’ll see you soon. Get down here before I bribe the security guard to let me in. I... yeah. See ya. I’ll be here.
[beep]
[morse code beeping] 
T-E-S-T. S-O-S. [pause] Where… are… you? 
Stupid, Iris. Just, stupid.
[beep] [equipment rustling, clinking, scraping]
It was, um, same company, different cities. I called her on the phone before I ported in to fix her computer, and she was – warm? Tired. Not exactly funny, but trying to make me laugh. I didn’t, but I thought about it, just to see if she’d laugh back? She messaged me on the company chat after, to thank me, and sent me a link to an article we’d been talking about while I worked on her desktop. I don’t remember what it was about even though it feels like I should. There are a lot of things I’m already forgetting. But I messaged back, and then we didn’t stop messaging. Until eight months ago.
I always want to know more about everything. Too much, probably. I can never stop digging. But she was the only one who really wanted to know more about… me.
I’m glad I got to meet her, but - I was supposed to keep meeting her - I - 
[beep]
[morse code beeping]
Don’t… be… dead.
[beep] [equipment moving aggressively]
Rob told me today that if I’m not going to go out for drinks with them after work anymore my only hobby can’t be looking for someone who’s been missing for a year. Really kind of insensitive, honestly. [huff] But I have been reading too many police reports, so today I will be starting a new project altogether.
[beep]
It’s the car radio, again, always the car radio. I should just buy a new one at this point, but then I’d never find out what was wrong with this one. Alright, okay, we’re trying scanning again, here we go.
[channels scan] [we hear the Sales Rep, and then the Host, cutting in and out:]
- Thank you for - feel - on - as always, our number is 71–
[Iris scrambles to stop the station but misses it. She tries tuning it back.]
Wait, wait wait wait wait. W-wait wait wait. 102 point 1. Oh my god. Oh my God. Wait. Hold on. 102 point - Wait, come back. Come back. 
I don’t – I don’t understand – [the road prov-] that’s Ha -
[beep] [keyboard clacking] 
I’m not the only person who’s heard her. There are people on subreddits talking about catching a radio call-in show on one frequency, exactly when they needed to hear it, but then not finding it again when they look for it, but just - How do I not need to hear it?
Here’s what I know about “the Host,” from what they know about the Host. Um, she’s always moving somewhere. She cares about her listeners. She’s experiencing impossible things, and so are the people calling in. And there’s a number.
Here’s what I know about my friend. She listened. She hated her job and always wanted a longer break. She loves pigeons and thinks that if aliens exist they’re single celled and acidophilic. She misses her mom. She was always reaching out for something. She was my friend.
[frantic music begins]
I know her voice, even if I haven’t heard it again. I know it was her, and I know I’m going to hear it again. I’m going to find the station. I’m going to find her.
[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: the - road - provides - the - road - provides -]
Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. 
The voice of Iris is Kaitlin Bruder. 
The voice of H[static] is Kristen O’Neal. 
Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music track you heard in tonight’s episode is: Junoon by RANA. If you have a question to ask, a story to tell, or a suggestion for the host, give us a call at ‪(717) 382-8093. The lines are always open.
[Junoon plays]
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Snow White and the 7 minibots
Considering the naming conventions used by cybertronians, there had to have been at least one bot with the designation Snow White. This made me wonder how you'd translate the fairy tale into cybertronian terms.
"Optics the color of rubies, wings black as onyx, armor white as snow."
Snow White is a seeker prince living in Vos. Instead of an evil queen its an evil wing-lord, wishing to remain the most beautiful seeker in all of Vos. There's still a magic mirror, except now it's an old artifact of Unicron.
"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"
“Thou, O Lord, art the fairest in the land.”
Then, when ultimately one day responds with Snow White's name, the wing-lord of course goes mad with jealousy and employs a mercenary to take Snow White out to the wilderness and kill him. He also tells the mercenary to bring back Snow White's t-cog as proof of his demise.
Of course, we all know that the mercenary end up not killing Snow White, instead urging him to run away and never come back. To trick the wing-lord into believing Snow White is dead, the mercenary kills a turbofox, takes its t-cog and delivers it him. The wing-lord, truly mad, cannibalizes the t-cog, hoping it somehow absorb Snow White's beauty and vitality through it.
Meanwhile, Snow White finds and befriends seven minibot miners (combiners perhaps?) that live on their own in the wilderness and starts living with them. Sadly, because the wing-lord still has the magic mirror he eventually learns the truth. In revenge, he throws the mercenary out the highest tower in Vos.
To finally get rid of Snow White once and for all, the evil wing-lord concoct a tasteless poison that he mixes with sweetened energon. Then he disguises himself with magic he's gotten from Unicron before heading out to the wilderness
Snow White is home alone when the evil wing-lord, disguised as a wandering beast-former, knocks upon the door. It's acid-raining outside and the wing-lord asks for shelter until the rain subsides. Of course, Snow White being so kind he is, lets him inside. As thanks, the wing-lord offers him his own 'special' blend of sweetened energon.
So trusting and naive, Snow White accepts the energon and drinks it. Almost immediately after taking a sip, he falls dead onto the floor, his white armor quickly turning grey. Cackling with glee, the evil wing-lord turns back into his seeker self and flies back to Vos.
The seven minibots return to their home to find Snow White dead. Stricken with grief, they place him in a crystal coffin so that he would always be able to see the sky.
One day, a passing Prime passes by. This Prime just so happens to be an old love of Snow White who had gotten separated from him when he had been suggested for Primacy. On his way back to Vos to finally meet his beloved again, he instead finds him dead. Devastated and overcome with grief, the Prime kneels before the coffin of Snow White.
But then! A miracle! The Matrix in his chest feels the Prime's pure love for Snow White and feeling such pity for him, resurrects the seeker!
Snow White, the Prime and the seven minibots all travel to Vos together where Prime reveals the evil wing-lord as a worshipper of Unicron. As punishment, the wing-lord's wings are set on fire and he's told to fly as high as he can. Forced to do so, the wing-lord flies high up in the atmosphere until the fire melts his wings, sending him plummeting down to his demise.
With the evil vanquished, Snow White, the Prime and the seven minibots live happily ever after.
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consistentsquash · 3 months
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HP Rec Fest - Day 16
Fest - @hprecfest Theme - A fic that made you laugh
Snarry is complicated/messy/angsty. But also funny! Lots of Snarry fics are really funny deconstructions of some super popular tropes during the eras they got written. Today I got ten Snarry fics that made me laugh. Nobody asked me for a list but I made one anyway because Snarry!!!
D for Defender by Amand_r. Bat Snape forever <3
There's a man stalking the Wizarding world. Or a bat. Maybe a Man-Bat. Severus is probably having an affair, Harry's tired all the time, oh, and those drunks out in East Anglia are complaining about the green lights. Again.
The GL, Oder Der Giftige Lautsprecher, nicht wahr? by Rakina. Snape is a dick shaped plant. Literally.
This looked something like a round gourd, bulbous and flushed red. As Harry stared at it he realised the gourd's shape was alarmingly testicular, and the dusting of dark bristles over its surface did nothing to lessen the resemblance.
Better Homes and Dungeons by abstractconcept. Relationship problems because Snape and Harry of course are awful at communication.
“He’s bored with me,” Snape said despondently. “Naturally,” Draco replied, draining his gin and tonic. “You don’t throttle him nearly enough.” He poured himself another glass. “Learn to keep your relationship more exciting. Break out the whips more often.”
Sheer Dumb Luck by rexluscus. Of course the best solution to win the war is screwing Snape. Literally. Also in other ways.
For once, Harry and Voldemort want the same thing, and they want it from Snape.
Fall into Charybdis by Nimori. Dirtybadhotwrong. Also funny!
"Of course." Harry waited until the floo whooshed, then rounded on Snape. "What are you playing at, you greasy prick?" "I think you should call me Dad," Snape said, examining his nails.
Protosnape by suitesamba. Snarry authors also write non dirtybadhotwrong. Sorry if my recs gave you the wrong impression at any point. This one is wholesome and funny!
When WWW decides to add Headmaster Snape to their Wizarding Heroes Action Figure line, Harry begins a correspondence with Snape’s cousin to iron out the details of the prototype. Albert Prince Jr. has some very specific ideas, and Harry soon finds himself counting buttons and measuring cauldron bottoms in a bid to get the action figure to market, and to find out a bit more about this mysterious cousin.
Great Liars, Great Magicians by LoupGarou. BACK TO THE DIRTYBADHOTWRONG.
Dumbledore forces Harry to bond with Snape, who demands an heir, but when Harry announces his pregnancy, Snape doesn't believe him. The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but the path to love is strewn with sex, lies, and manipulations.
A Tolerable End to an Unfortunate Situation by who_la_hoop. Of course Snape doesn't stay dead. Of course he is a problem.
When a dead, naked Snape enters the Great Hall – resurrected from the dead and out for Harry Potter's blood – it's the start of a whole new set of problems for the reluctant hero of the wizarding world.
Pink Slip by Cluegirl. Voldemort wins and ofc Harry is tortured. Really tortured :D
It is a long-held tradition for the children of one's enemies to be fostered in one's own household in order to enforce both sides' adherence to a treaty of peace. Harry doesn't find much comfort in the peace that has been bought with his freedom, but he's just a Fosterling in the house of Malfoy -- his only avenue of complaint lay with his Welfare Overseer, one Severus Snape.
Unexpected by Seeker. Snape gets deaged and everybody exploits that. Really exploits him :D
Thirty years as a Death Eater cum double agent and it came down to this.
Recs I made for this fest
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partnersatfazbear · 2 years
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Spoilers for my fic if you haven’t read it, but this surprised me
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As someone who watches shows like 600 Lb Life and Hoarders pretty consistently, I can’t help but feel I must have seen this and subconsciously remembered it when I wrote my fic. Or it’s just an insane coincidence.
The irony of the man being named Michael isnt lost on me. (Not to poke fun at the gentleman in the episode, I have nothing but sympathy for these people having been raised in a near-hoarder house and several friends were raised in abusive households like this)
Another thing that may have inspired the backstory for me (can’t remember if I read this before or after I wrote it) was this section in Fatal Attraction (a movie I haven’t seen): Alex kills Ellen's pet rabbit, and puts it on their stove to boil; Beth finds the pot and screams in terror.
Who knows?
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blood-orange-juice · 7 months
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We need to talk about Jakob.
Why exactly didn't he turn into a meatblob, while Carter did.
Apparently, Karl took him to Vourukasha Oasis and Khaenri'ah right after the Cataclysm.
(he was a kid *during* the Cataclysm! so all the stories we read happen right after Khaenri'ah fall. why doesn't anyone mention it in the logs? why was it so quickly forgotten? ok, it was probably just an "obvious" thing)
Genshin wiki says this: "At a certain point, Jakob faced a life-threatening accident. Rene believed that Jakob wouldn't survive the journey back to Fontaine for treatment. Despite Karl's strong opposition, Rene used the power of the Abyss to save Jakob. However, this resulted in Jakob gaining the ability to no longer eat. Rene and Jakob made sure to conceal much of the information they uncovered from Karl, and Rene mentioned creating a "fake journal" and having Jakob pretend to eat in order to avoid arousing Karl's suspicion."
HE WAS ALREADY AN ABYSSAL THING. Or an undead. Whatever.
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So that's what Elynas sensed.
Conclusion: abyssal beings can eat Elynas' remains and normal people shouldn't.
(it's not clear why exactly that happens. abyssal beings can utilize this energy and grow something useful like extra arms, while humans can't so they just blob instead?
also this rises the question why didn't he turn into a blob back in Sumeru, well that was probably a different technique.
something something pneuma, ousia, matter and form)
He also saw the apocalyptic vision back there in Khaenri'ah ruins, not during research of Elynas.
Also, uhm... Rene? What exactly did he use? Something of Rhinedottir's? Why can Abyss save injured kids now?
I have questions. A lot of them.
(time to finally do the Khvarena questline)
Also event description of the Abyssal Baptist from an event: "A seeker of truths once caught a glimpse of the pitch-dark world beyond the skies. They continue to whisper accursed prayers, guiding mortals toward the path to the paradise of truth."
Yeah, checks out.
I still don't understand why did he try to resurrect Elynas. What for?
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askagamedev · 10 months
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Could multiple poorly received releases in a row put a studio or franchise in danger? To use Bioware as an example, both Anthem and Andromeda were not very well received. In the event that the same thing happens with DA4 (knocks on wood), would that be enough for EA to determine a 5th installment (of ME or DA) is not worth the investment, despite their previous large scale successes in both franchises?
Repeated poorly received releases may (temporarily) put a franchise on ice, but such actions are rarely truly permanent. Killer Instinct, for example, launched in 1994, had a sequel in 1996, and then lay dormant until 2013. There were three Marathon games released in 1994, 1995, and 1996 respectively, and then it lay dormant until Bungie announced the new Marathon game just a few weeks ago. IP never truly dies, it just hibernates until such time as its current owner manages to secure the funding to try to resurrect it again.
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Studios, on the other hand, are much less resilient and more fragile than IP. A string of failures can honestly doom a studio. I will note that a failure in this context is a release that does not reach its revenue targets. If a studio has multiple sequential failures, it is in a bad position. Its financiers will be less willing to provide funding since the chances of recouping that investment are lower. It will have trouble hiring new talent since job seekers are usually less interested in working for a studio that is consistently unsuccessful. It will have trouble retaining its existing talent for similar reasons. Studios have employees and those employees are constantly draining money from their parent company in the form of salaries, benefits, overhead, and so on. Operating a studio for the multiple years it takes to develop a game without financial sustainability is a very tall order.
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Publishers are not charities, they are businesses. In my experience, they will give successful studios freedom to do as they please, and they will give opportunities for unsuccessful studios to rescue themselves, but these self-rescuing opportunities are limited in number by necessity. If the publisher doesn't think the studio is salvageable, then it makes business sense to shut it down.
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gggoldfinch · 4 months
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brrrrrrr art dump for the tfp self insert oc my childhood self could only dream of 🤯 I drew these back in July but have been thinking about them again recently. This is so embarrassing but I'm so proud of how these character sheets came out, but I can't post them without context so here we goooooo (oc info at the bottom!!!!!!😭)
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Embarrassing au & oc info time!!!!!! (tw for vague discussion of non-human self-harm in 10th bullet point):
Okay so basically to preface: in my wip fic (wip is a gross exaggeration), everything remains canonically accurate to TFP except for the fact I use my Magic Fanfic Writer Powers to incorporate ridiculous Cybertronian mysticism canon into it for the sole purpose of furthering my self indulgent plot armor via cyberforming (cyberforming being when organic material becomes that of Cybertronian-make through means of mysticism and/or science)
Marian (unabashed tradgoth self insert) starts off as human. She gets picked up by the Cons while smashed drunk one night bc they think she has info on the Bots (found her bc she was lurking on online forums asking too many questions about big robot aliens bc she once saw them brawling and wanted answers), then she just ends up being kept alive and kept around as a pet/team mascot/ emotional support human, because hey if the Bots have one then maybe humans can be of some use
After a while Marian ends up forming a bond with Starscream (and KO to a lesser extent) after they both end up treating each other with compassion and respect (wow! trauma-bonding!). She kinda definitely falls desperately in love with him (and thinks it's unrequited but jk!). Angst & hurt/comfort abound! Gratuitous usage of mass-displacement device for nsfw purposes! You didn't hear that from me...
She is accidentally killed during the Battle on Cybertron (ca. season 3) by being hit with a stray plasma blast.
Here is where AU material comes in lol!!!!!!!
With the Well of AllSparks alive once again, in an act of desperation SS leaves her body at the edge of the well and actually prays for once in his miserable life. Through a mystical act of pity or mercy or whatever, a fresh spark combines with her own approximation of a soul and cyberforms her corpse and resurrects/ reincarnates her. She's herself, with all her old memories— but also something new, with all-new potential. No one knows wtf is going on lol
She becomes the first mech created on "New" Cybertron. "Cyberform-forged" is the term used for her, making her something of a new race (in the same way the Terrans are a new race), and is more of a mystic anomaly than anything (largely because there is no opportunity to recreate the event).
She's formed with a Vosnian Seeker frame and Cybertronian alt mode. Her frame is weather resistant: built to tolerate and fly through high winds and dangerous weather (Cybertronian and Terran) and relies more on brute force than grace in aviation. This means she is bulky rather than slim and aerodynamic like SS. She's a revival of the (near?) extinct class (if we're going by Prime!canon then Starscream is the only confirmed Vosnian Seeker left). Why Primus decided that cranking out new Vosnians would be a good idea is beyond everyone; everyone is too busy wondering how tf cyberforming works and what the consequences of it are to really question it.
Physically, she's not overtly femme— more androgynous, which is on brand for her Vosnian build. She's top-heavy with large pauldrons, shoulders double the width of her hips. Her new frame reflects her old human body in a very rough, vague way— only enough to be noticeable to those who really knew her before. She applies face paint by hand like her old makeup, and paints one servo red to match how she used to wear her nail polish. She's shorter than SS, around 30-ish feet tall (whereas he pushes 35'). She doesn't have a very good grasp on how her wings emote, therefore anyone who can read Seeker body language can always tell exactly how she's feeling.
She suffers with severe ptsd, depression, and body dysmorphia/ dysphoria as a result of the cyberforming and her human death, and semi-often has moments of panic and distress wherein she self-harms in an attempt to undo what's been done. In a potent mix of lingering human neurodivergency & the jarring biological shift, she often gets overwhelmed by her new body, notably her biomechanical functions: her optics cause a significant amount of stress on a regular basis, to the point where visual "notifications" and all other miscellaneous visual obstructions have to be disabled in order for her to function. This means no scanning data, etc, without purposefully reactivating the internal procedures required for the task. She also has a lot of trouble coping with the lack of sexual dimorphism. Shortly after her "awakening," she brutalized herself due to severe confusion and psychological distress (see the second to last image :( ) and KO had to sedate and mend her.
Every who encounters her and knows her story kinda assumes she just "came back" with a processor malfunction (or if they don't know her story, think she was just traumatized by the war), which isn't totally wrong. Knockout is one of her major supporters thru this and professionally thinks she probably needs a mnemosurgeon to fix her, but can't find any to contact so soon post-war.
She's rather clumsy, and takes a while to acclimate to such a different body (it also doesn't help that Seekers tend to have disproportionally long limbs, as well as cumbersome wings). She smacks things and other mechs with her wings, crushes things in her servos, basically she severely underestimates her own strength and size
One perk to her new body is that she can stream music directly into her processor, which is a function she abuses often to drown everything else out. There are functions she couldn't even dream of before: she can disable pain processors, turn off sight and hearing like throwing a switch, disable various biomechanical functions. She doesn't need to breathe like a human, or expel waste. Energon tastes like battery acid and firecrackers, but hey, she can turn off "taste" processors too.
She's afraid of herself at times, and by extension is afraid of intimacy too. She's afraid she's too different now, in a foreign body she can't seem begin understanding. She feels burdened by expectations; she's not a real Vosnian Seeker, she's not even a real Cybertronian in the way that counts— she is a freakish amalgamation of human memories and a soul stuffed into a shell made new especially for her, despite her having had no say in the matter... Or, at least, that's what she thinks. Those closest to her think she's a miracle and are thrilled to still have her, indefinitely now. Before when she was human, SS had been frustrated and genuinely afraid of feeling anything remotely positive towards her, because of how tragically short human life spans are (and his fears had been proven valid when she was killed). Now he has Marian forever, and while coping with his own problems post-war, he cares for her and teaches her how to be a noble Seeker.
YIPPEEEEEEE
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impishtubist · 13 days
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I’m not going to lie, the idea that Peter betraying everyone was the fault of those he betrayed is easily one of my most hated interpretations. The idea that we are laying the blame for being murdered on James (and Lily considering she was likely hanging out the Peter before his Gerard, since she started dating James their last year of school and Peter became a spy a year before their deaths, meaning there’s roughly 3 years between Lily entering the Marauders’ circle as James girlfriend and Peter turning to Voldemort) is just unfathomable to me. Sirius even gives us a pretty likely reason for why Peter turned: Peter would side with whoever he thought was strongest and if I remember correctly, Voldemort was winning the war until Harry defeated him; this means that Peter turned because he thought Voldemort would win and if he became a spy, he’d survive. And even if he was treated badly by his friends—and we only see this in SWM, during which James comments that Peter should know the signs of a werewolf considering he’s with one every single month and Sirius tells James to stop showing off because Peter is applauding him* and this is almost certainly causing Sirius secondhand embarrassment—that still doesn’t mean it’s their fault the man is a traitor. I’m sorry, but having people being rude to you does not mean deciding “hey, I’m going to join the organization that is slaughtering people and waging war” is justified. If Peter hated the way they treated him, he should have just cut them out of his life. From what we see of Peter, I think that Peter betrayed everyone to save his own skin, lived as a rat for years because this act backfired spectacularly and he had a target on his back from any Death Eaters who dodged Azkaban but might have held a grudge over Voldemort dying/any fallout they experienced, and then turned back to Voldemort because he had no other options after everything and resurrecting Voldemort might have earned him leniency.
*Plus, this is kind of weird to do. We know, from the very book this occurs in, that James used to play with the Snitch pretty frequently, so this isn’t new behavior or anything the Marauders haven’t seen before. Peter is acting like he’s never seen this before. Even if this is the first incident of James playing with the Snitch, Peter has seen Quidditch games, he’d have witnessed Seekers in action, so it’s not something novel. Also, like, that’s supposed to be one of his best friends, why is he acting like a fanboy? I encourage my friends and of course I’m thrilled for them when they do well, but uh, I’m not literally clapping for them if they’re essentially throwing and catching a ball, this is odd. Am I just weird or something?
Yeah, exactly, it's stated pretty clearly in the text why Peter betrayed them: he's a coward who wanted to save his own skin, and so he sided with the person he thought was winning at the time. He wanted the protection he thought Voldy could provide. It's not because the MPP crew were mean to him-you don't get people killed just because they're rude to you, lmao.
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