#somehow reading him being described as clever makes me a bit happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

#helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #zemo smut #zemo x reader #zemo x you #bun writes #baron zemo #zemo #i am KNEELING

481 notes · View notes

rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Have you ever thought about writing a continuation to Unofficial Meeting? I'm dying to know whether Laszlo earns the reader's forgiveness and if she accepts his proposal or not. Have a good day! 😚

Undisclosed Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Laszlo self deprecating himself hard

A/N: how could I give up a chance to make my boy Laszlo happy? Thank you so much for requesting it, it really made me happy to have an old story requested. Here is the original story

“Are you even listening to me?”

Violet inquired as you blinked surprised and taken aback. She invited you over for an afternoon tea, but your mind kept wondering off to what happened between you and Laszlo. You haven’t seen him in over a month and to be honest you missed him. The first few days you were firm on your choice, he upset you and your family, he crossed your boundaries mindlessly.

But then you realised how he meant to ask your hand to your father, how he never meant for you to be hurting, he just wanted to make it official.

Your grandmother tried to talk you out of your anger but she didn’t managed to, it was over anyway. You upset each other, you closed that chapter.

If you have feelings for him that chapter is not closed, your grandmother told you but you tried to ignore it. You haven’t seen him in so long, not even at some event or where you’d usually expect him to be. He kept sending you flowers to you until the end of the previous month. That silly man, always hating to leave things halfway done.

“I am, I am just a bit tired” you said as she waved her hand

“nonsense ” she said offering you to try some sweets while she stood up to call her maid and gather what she meant to show you “I’ll show you now the latest Paris fashion and you’ll have to wake up”

She was your friend, she was sweet and she knew you were on a rough patch now and she did all in her power t keep you distracted.

“Charles stop it”

John’s voice rang through you ears as you stood up to see what was going on from the window facing the luscious back garden of the Moore residence. Little Charles was the spit image of his parents and an adventurer at heart, you could tell from the way he kept his father busy running after him.

You smiled as John gave up opening his arms in defeat.

“What I have to do?” He groaned making you chuckle as for a moment it looked like he was asking to God, but when you noticed that he was in fact talking to Dr Kreizler who was sitting on a bench. You codlin’t help but rest your eyes on him, he looked pale, tired like he wasn’t sleeping. He was like this during investigations but as far as you knew there was no one at the moment.

“Wat you have to do John? Let the boy be” he said as a tired smile crept onto his lips.

“Yes, he will break his skull in a second”

Laszlo shook his head looking at him “If you prevent him from doing anything he won’t never learn” he said as he spoke matter of factly but that tiredness in his voice was evident. You wondered what kept him up.

You wondered if t was your fault.

But then you saw the sweet look he had for the child as he picked a ball that was hiding behind his back to give it to him to play with.

He was so good with kids, it was incredible.

You knew it was his job, but the tenderness he showed with them was something you felt on your own skin as you used to be allowed to be part of that special round of people that got to see him being sweet.

You moved away from the window just in time for Violet to come back, her maids holding onto over twenty new items of clothing.

“V” you said to her as the use of that little nickname sparked already her attention “I have to ask you a favour”

It was dead in the evening when Laszlo got asked from Violet to meet a friend of hers with a child with various problems.

The symptoms she described didn’t really add up, they should be excluding each other. But no matter what he decided to go there.

He usually was very firm about his privacy and the times he could meet or not patients, even though the secrecy of the hour would be typical of a wealthy family trying to hide some kind of a problem they judge as shameful, he also came to a point where work was all he got.

He missed you, everything reminded him of you. He hoped to see, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to have handed a dollar or two to your maid to at least know how are you.

He didn’t mean to stalk you, he just wanted you happy and once more he was acting behind your back. But your maid told him you were fine and doing your business, so he stopped inquiring. He didn’t deserve you in the first place anyway, but how things ended really pained him, he really thought to be doing right and he really wanted to have a future with you, to have many what John has.

But what nonsense thinking about it now that it is all gone and by his own hand, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As he arrived to the building he got inside surprised not to find anyone at service but only an open door.

The instinct would have told him to go away, but he was reckless by now, he already lost what he cared the most.

Walking inside the candlelit hallway he was surprised to get to a large living room only to find you there.

The truth was that he stopped on his track to admire you. You were amazing, he adored you in any possible shape and form, everything from your clothing to your composure screamed for his eyes to be fixated onto you.

He took that moment to look at you, take in your image, last time you two spoke you were so upset and he didn’t want that to be the last image he had of you.

“I am more discreet than you when I have to do things in secret” you said and he smiled lightly

“You’re”

His admission, the tiredness of his look just paining you.

“Is this a house of your family?”

“Yes, it is my aunt’s but she is on some cruise with her husband”

He nodded quietly as he looked around moving closer to you, the candles around you making him feel like the moment was set in another time.

“You didn’t have to make an appointment to meet me”

“Well, I asked a friend for a favour, I could have paid Stevie to drive you here anyway” you answered, basically hinting him that your maid didn’t keep his little inquiring a secret between the two of you.

He nodded gulping down, he felt like he was naked in front of you, defenceless and anything you could attack him with would really hurt.

“I though that after our last conversation we needed to speak alone and in a neutral ground, I attacked you and I know I moved past my means”

“Just like I did inquiring about your life without permission” he concluded for you, he kept thinking about that day over and over, he couldn’t take it out of his mind and he even thought it would be easy only because so many people hated him already, button you. He wished you’d never be one of them.

“Miss Y/L/N” the fact he used your last name showing how he was trying to prove you some respect, not using your first name like you’re somehow close, mostly because he doubts you’d wish him close at any time.

“All I have ever wanted was to be worth of you”

His words trembling, like snakes sliding onto your skin.

He opened his mouth to say something and he closed it as he stared somewhere away from you, he shook his head slowly. The pain visible through him.

“I am a despicable failure as a human being, I know it” he said as he rose his hand to invite your silence “I have spent my life trying to find a common language to get through people, studying them ,making sure to be able to read human behaviour to allow myself the freedom of interaction. I am not a natural like John, I can’t just go on a group and charm my way through it and I knew, I knew from the moment you allowed me to be close to you that I would ruin it because I am such social wreck, because I can’t control myself or I can’t not follow the rules that I have been told are the right path to follow”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked down and then up at you, he was trying to hold back tears but the truth was that he cried for losing you, He cried for nights and days.

“I apologise once more, I wanted to do you right and I just overstepped you. I always admired you for your being independent and clever and I reduced you to an object with my insensitive behaviour. I always make myself strong from talking my way through people and I blindsided you when words were the most needed”

You looked at him as maybe for the first time he really throw away the mask, he really let himself speak up.

“I valued what you did for me” you blinked at him surprised, your head slightly falling on side to observe him.

He was going down the self deprecating himself hill, you could almost count how much time there was between him going down onto his arm topic. You know that was always his undisclosed weakness, how he hated it and saw himself as unlovable because imperfect.

“It is yes”

He looked at you with a frown not seeing what you mean.

“My answer for your question”

He frowned even more, what question? You could hear it resonate into his mind as he didn’t ask you anything, he came to you to apologise and…

And then he got it.

His eyes widened as he opened his mouth only to close it again.

No, he was probably misunderstanding, once more reading badly the situation.

You picked your left glove slowly taking it off to show him you were wearing his ring on your hand.

He stared at you, his hand hesitantly moving to pick yours bringing it up to his lips and resting a kiss over it, his hand holding yours as he stared up at you.

His wet eyes now unmistakable from cha closeness, the signs of his lack of sleep visible.

“In a marriage there shouldn’t be secrets, I tried to avoid something shameful for me when you allowed me to see every part of you” you admitted as you weren’t free from blame, you referred to pretend something wasn’t there rather than facing it.

He stared at you with shaky breath, as he licked his lips trying to find words.

“I love you Laszlo, I really want to be your wife”

His jaw trembled as the happiness rushed over him like electricity, his hand bringing yours over his heart beating so fast and hard that he felt it could explode.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as you caressed his cheek with your right hand as he leaned down, still not daring to believe what was happening.

So you just did it, you leaned in closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.

The times were changed.

Women could accept wedding proposals without their father’s approval, men could cry for love and love words were made of truths and exposed weaknesses and not by the words of dusty poets. And with such strong ideals you could only imagine your life as set up for a greater kind of happiness with him.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#dr kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons

175 notes · View notes

lov3nerdstuff · 3 years

Text

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.26}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"I had the choice between making you laugh and thereby forget about the pain I was unfortunately causing in the process, or to further said pain even more by talking about Morgan and his vile doings." He replied so easily that it made perfect sense now, as the most obvious solution ever. "As you see, it wasn't even a choice to be made."

"Thank you. That… was a really clever thing to do, actually." Robin sighed and gave him a soft smile, then took a moment to appreciate how the shadows of the flames danced across his skin before she spoke on. "So… no more pain for now?"

"Not as far as I can tell."

"Let's find out for sure then, shall we?" Her smile turned into a brighter one, especially when a spark lit up his dark eyes that didn't originate from the flames by their side. "I can't very well test it by myself after all… doesn't work like that."

"Pity." He replied with a not-smirk, as the amusement wouldn't stay off his face like the irony not gone from his words, nor the purest adoration out of his gaze when Robin took the one small step left to stand directly before him, on her tiptoes for their lips to almost touch when he leaned down just a little bit further. "You really are insufferable."

"I know." She got out in one whisper of a smile, before every word and breath was taken from her in a gentle brushing of lips, and a delicate tracing of fingers down her spine a moment later. Back were the shivers of unadulterated delight, now that the pain was gone for real. Whatever he had done, he had done it well. A part of Robin's mind couldn't help marveling at the sheer amount of talent that Snape possessed for just about anything of relevance, for such a variety of magic and wondrous things, while the rest of her soon was too distracted to think at all.

Eventually her toes started to hurt from standing up on them though, and her hands and arms grew tired from holding up her dress for so long, which led her to pull away just enough to look at him. "May I borrow something of yours to wear tonight? A ball gown isn't really the most comfortable thing to be sitting on a sofa in… and I'd like to have a drink before you tell me just what it was that Morgan did to my back."

"You can have anything you want, Robin, most obviously even if it is a thing as simple as a piece of clothing. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you however that the options in that regard are rather… limited."

"Well, if I don't find anything, I'll just wrap myself in your robes instead." Robin quirked an eyebrow at him with a small smirk, then sauntered over to the wardrobe where he kept his most mundane belongings. Even with her back to him now, she could tell that her comment had frozen him in place, while his eyes still seemed to burn holes into her skin. It made her shiver to have his full attention on her body like this now, but she still rolled her eyes to herself with a smile. "That was a joke, you know… I'll find something to wear. But I'm feeling quite underdressed, if you keep standing there in your dress robes."

"I wasn't aware that I was to keep up with your astonishing level of undress, my sincerest apologies." He replied in the most obvious sarcasm as he fell into action nonetheless, which made Robin snort and shake her head to herself as she picked up a long abandoned t-shirt she had discovered at the very bottom of the wardrobe, which only put emphasis on the point that he certainly would have no interest in wearing it himself. That would have to do… While the thought of wearing so very little made her heart skip a beat in itself, it also brought back a spark of insecurity. Teasing was one thing, but could she really be quite as bold in reality? It surely wouldn't bother him too much if she only wore his t-shirt and her knickers, would it? She hadn't worn that much more in the summer either… but there still was a difference between jersey shorts and underwear. The thought made her blush, made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle at once, but then again, the temptation of crossing yet another line that now lay broken before her was just too strong to resist. He'd said he wanted to keep her here after all… and he certainly hadn't expected her to sleep in her ball gown, had he?

It took a bit of fumbling with the last few buttons on her dress before Robin finally had it opened up all the way, but then she simply dropped the heavy fabric and let it pool by her feet while she pulled the shirt over her head instead. It probably wasn't the most exciting piece of clothing, soft and black and plain, but at least it covered her butt for the most part, and it was already comfortable seconds after putting it on. That really was all she had wanted. Sighing to herself, she picked her dress up from the ground and folded it in half before placing it with her shoes on the trunk next to the wardrobe where it wouldn't be in the way. This really felt strangely normal, somehow. All of this. Then again, they had been this close for ages. Almost, at least. Again, she realized just how little had actually changed. They still were just the same old dungeon bat and insane girl, only with more possibilities. The thought made her smile.

When she turned back around at last, the first thing she took pleasant notice of was the fact that he had shed some layers of coats indeed, which again left him in one of those linen shirts she liked so much. The second thing she noticed was the two glasses and the bottle of firewhisky on the coffee table, and she had to smirk at the fact that he hadn't even had to ask to know what she wanted to drink. It had become somewhat of a staple by now, and while they didn't drink too often, they usually ended up with firewhisky whenever they did. The third and final thing that caught her eye was his gaze on her, which she couldn't describe as anything other than awestruck even as she slowly made her way back to the sofa. Somehow, instead of feeling uncomfortable or nervous now, Robin simply had to smile while her heart was leaping out of her chest again. He really did look at her like she was the answer to the universe's greatest question… and it did unspeakable things to her in return.

With the same smile and a sigh she plopped down on the sofa next to Snape, then summoned a blanket from the shelves and draped it over her now crossed legs. Not out of embarrassment really, but naked skin and cold dungeon air just didn't go too well together for a longer period of time, no matter how lovely the fire or the company was. When her eyes finally lifted back to meet his, she found that he was still looking at her with that same expression of calm amazement, and she had to chuckle as she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

"What?" She finally asked, when after a few moments he still made no attempt to do anything other than observe her quietly.

"Never did I dare to believe I would get to see you like this. Be with you, like this." He replied calmly, and his words made Robin smile again, while for some odd reason this sufficed to make a subtle heat creep up her neck. Honestly, she hadn't expected it either. But then again, now that it was part of their reality, it felt like the most natural and inevitable thing in existence.

"And do you like it, now that you do… see me?" She asked, even though she had a rather vivid idea of what he was going to reply.

"Obviously. Even if 'like' is quite as much of an understatement as 'happy' was."

"Good." Robin smiled, then let out a humoured huff. "I still remember our sleepover in the lab… or that one time on my birthday. You let me wear your robes, and I was positively dying on the inside from the sheer excitement about it."

"So was I."

"Really?" She frowned at him with a small incredulous laugh, and her eyes followed his movements while he finally poured them a firewhisky each. "I mean… why?"

"Do you have any idea how insanely attractive it is to see you wearing something of mine?"

The stupid smile was back on her face in under a second in reply to that, and it prevailed even when he handed her a glass and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly upon seeing her probably very goofy expression. The smirk on his lips however told the truth of his thoughts.

"So… seeing me in just your shirt now must be quite the sight." Robin mused in feigned nonchalance, swirling the amber liquid around her glass while she watched it sparkle in the glow of the fire. "Or does it step aside to seeing me in my underwear without having to look away for the first time?"

"You are such a tease."

"Only when it comes to you. You know that."

He didn't reply immediately, which is what made Robin look up from her glass just in time to see his smirk turning into a small but sincerely happy smile. "Indeed."

The leaping of her heart washed away every drop of tease in an instant, and left behind only the soaring adoration and burning excitement. With a smile mirroring his own, Robin raised her glass to him. "To everything."

"To you, for being braver than I was." He added on in subtle amusement at her grand expression, and finally clinked his glass to hers. Then they both took a sip of their drinks as they ought to, but their eyes stayed locked on each other the entire time nonetheless, sheer unable to look away. Robin smiled into her glass for a moment, then set it down on the table behind the sofa without even having to look at what she was doing. This was perfect… it was just like always, but it also was more after all.

For another quiet moment she simply observed him then, how he took another sip of whisky, and it once more brought the question of how it would taste on his lips to the forefront of her mind. She had been wondering about that for months now… every time they were drinking just this beverage, to be exact. It was due time she finally got an answer. But… could she just kiss him like that? Without warning? Technically, she had originally been the first to kiss him, but after that it had rather been more or less subtle prompting from her that had made him kiss her, and-...

"Talk to me, Robin… Getting lost now would be a shame. What is troubling you?"

Gods, he was too good at reading her. Robin sighed to herself, and had to smile nonetheless. There was no need to find a half truth to answer anymore… She could finally tell him absolutely everything that went on in her head, without restraint. That was bloody brilliant, actually. "I was just wondering if I could kiss you, just like that."

"What an inane question." He quirked an eyebrow at her with a humoured expression. "Obviously you can if you want to. What makes you doubt that now?"

"Doubt is the wrong word for it… I was just concerned that I might do something wrong, if I just… you know. Or that I'd make you uncomfortable." She shrugged with a half smile. "I just like to think about the consequences of my actions before I do something stupid."

"I'm well aware of that." The smirk was back on his lips, but it was surprisingly affectionate in contrast to the usual humour or scorn. "And to be honest, I am no stranger to the very same concerns."

"Really? But you seem so certain in everything you do… like you know exactly that what you're doing is right, and also what you're supposed to do."

"So do you." He replied, much to Robin's sincere surprise. She seemed like she knew what she was doing?! No way. And yet, he seemed to believe so. "Obviously these impressions can be quite misleading."

Once again, the thought and realization that in the end he was just as afraid to mess this up as she was herself made Robin's heart soar, made warmth spread out from her chest through her entire body, made her lose more of her own concerns. They would learn to navigate these new territories, together.

"You've never made me uncomfortable with anything you did…" She said with a smile. "You've only ever made me want more."

"I could say the exact same about you."

"Oh come on, I know for a fact that I've made you uncomfortable before."

"You challenge me, that is entirely different."

"How about we both stop being so stupidly concerned then, and just do instead of overthinking and worrying? Yes, how about we agree to actually tell each other what we think, want and what makes us uncomfortable instead?" Robin suggested with a hopeful but not remotely imploring look. She knew better than to push him. "We've been doing just that about work matters for ages now… talking honestly and openly, I mean. Would it be so bad if we did the same for everything else as well?"

"I assume not." He mused, then studied her for a moment before speaking on, in well considered seriousness. "I promise to try."

That, she knew and would never forget, was a truly extraordinary thing for him to do, to promise, especially such a thing, and it made her heart leap out of her chest yet again with an overwhelming wave of affection. But it also made her smile. "I promise to try as well."

"And just to test the functionality of that, what would you be thinking right in this instant?" He raised an eyebrow at her, then took another sip of whisky and set the empty glass down on the table at last.

"That I really want my answer now, to a question I've had for ages." She smiled in return, but before he could do anything more than frown in question, Robin was sitting up on her knees already, blanket long forgotten and abandoned as she moved closer to his side. Not even half a second later her lips were on his for a gentle, but all the more determined kiss.

If it wasn't for the subtle taste of firewhisky, Robin would have doubted the reality of the moment yet again the very second her body and soul were set ablaze. A small voice in her mind wondered if she would ever get used to these overwhelming feelings, if it was the whisky or the kiss that was making her dizzy in the most delightful of ways, if kisses were supposed to be this ineffably intoxicating. It certainly was the most delightful way to lose yourself, and find something far greater instead.

Perhaps that is why the gentleness, the seek for a mere answer was doomed and destined to grow into inevitable passion. Soft lips turned tongues and teeth and it sent yet another thrill through Robin when his hand settled on the curve of her hip to pull her as close as their awkward angle on the sofa allowed. It wasn't enough; she wanted to be closer than this, closer than just leaning into his side. She had to be, it was an irresistible calling, an impulse she couldn't ignore. On instinct more than by conscious thought her arms wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him closer in return now, but he wouldn't have it. Instead, not a fathomable moment later, the hand on her hip turned into an arm around her waist and just like that he pulled her into his lap without an effort. Robin thought it a change for the better, one that gave her new tingles all over. Straddling his legs now, her entire body curved into his in an instant as she pressed herself as close as she could, and he let out a quiet involuntary moan in return. Gods, he would be the end of her… even if she felt more alive now than she ever had before.

It was only his fingers tracing along a sliver of her skin below the hem of her shirt that sent a literal quiver through her, and when he placed his other hand on her thigh, a gentle caress of her bare skin, the heartbeat that echoed through her wasn't entirely her own. The thudding rhythm within her in addition to a serious lack of oxygen made her break away with a gasp at last, but she still found herself unable to speak, to act, to do anything but stay as close as she could nonetheless.

"If that was the answer, do I even want to know the question?" Snape was the first to speak, entirely out of breath no less, but he at least, thank god, kept on drawing circles on Robin's skin that made her sigh under her breath, while his question however made her croak a laugh.

"I have been wondering for months now what firewhisky would taste like on your lips." She made herself reply at last, and leaned back just enough to look at him with an amused smile.

"How curious…" He mused, and in a poor attempt to conceal his smirk he gave her an evaluating frown. "Do you happen to have wondered the same thing about other beverages as well?"

Now that made Robin chuckle even more, and display the very smirk she knew he was trying to hold off. "Let's say I wouldn't be opposed to a series of tests."

That sufficed to break his half hearted attempt by far, and he rolled his eyes with a snort, then didn't even bother to hide the smirk anymore. He certainly wasn't opposed to the idea either, if the way he was still holding onto her was any indication of that. Robin couldn't help but smile when his hold on her tightened the smallest bit as he shifted beneath her, and yet it also brought a subtle heat to her cheeks as it made her very much aware of the fact that she was sitting in his lap. In her underwear. If that wasn't enough reason to grin like an idiot and blush at the same time she didn't know what was. She found that she enjoyed it far too much to be embarrassed though, or do anything other than relish this closeness. As new as it was, it still felt absolutely and undeniably right.

"I think me seizing your space has gotten an entirely new dimension now." She said after a while, in a mixture of amusement and affection. "But I must say you make a very comfortable seat. And I rather enjoy the perspective."

"Don't get used to it." He quirked an eyebrow up at her, and even though their current position left Robin only minimally taller than him, the change in perspective was indeed rather nice for once.

"Whyever not?" Her smirk only broadened yet again, and she made a point of moving her face so close that her nose brushed against his while she spoke. "Is having me in your lap really quite so terrible? Or is it my astonishing state of undress, as you put it, that is troubling you?"

He didn't even need to reply with words for Robin to get a clear answer immediately, as his body definitely betrayed any attempt to deny the truth that was obvious as day. She could feel the twitch and shudder running through his entire being in rapid succession, his heart skipping a beat right beneath her fingertips. Another, when her lips just barely brushed against his for a fleeting moment of innocent teasing. And it was her heart indeed that went wild when his hand sneaked beneath her shirt once more as he gently traced up the sensitive skin along her spine, before pulling her in with a start for a kiss that was everything but a tease. Robin sighed against his lips in an immediate response, arching into his chest and his touch on mere instinct, and when she grazed her teeth over his bottom lip, his fingers dug into her back in the same delightful intensity the two of them shared with every missing breath.

"Do you think we will ever be able to stop?" She finally brought out in a breathless chuckle, playing with the rivers of black her fingers had at some point become tangled up in. "After all, you really are impossibly addictive, and I don't think I can ever get enough of the divine privilege that is having you as mine."

"Good." His sparse reply was accompanied by a small smirk that made Robin roll her eyes with a mirroring one of her own. If she didn't know better, she would've thought that her accidental poeticism had lost on him… but she did know far better indeed. For a moment they stayed like that, until at last, Snape spoke on. "Going by the state of the fire, we perhaps should consider calling it a night soon if we want to at least pretend that we made an effort to retire in time to get up for breakfast in the morning. With the magic worked on you tonight, I honestly cannot imagine you not to be exhausted."

"You still haven't told me about what exactly that magic worked on me was, seeing as I did a pretty good job distracting you until now. Which is a good thing, don't get me wrong… but I guess I still will have to know what Morgan did to me if I have to see that arse again tomorrow morning." Robin sighed, and she had to admit that she did feel rather exhausted indeed. All the dancing at the ball, the anxiety, the walk, the overwhelming amount of emotions and adrenaline… and on top of that, whatever magic Snape was talking about. "Let's get it over with; what did he do?"

"Do you really want to keep sitting like that for a serious conversation?"

"Just tell me." She gave him a defeated look, in the knowledge that he was obviously dreading the topic as much as she had been up until this point. "It's fine, I'm far too happy right now to let it ruin my night."

"He tried to kill you."

"He… wait, what?!" Robin frowned at him in an instant, in the sincere belief that she had misunderstood him somehow.

"He placed a curse on you that could eventually have led to your timely demise if it had stayed on you for any longer than it did." Snape repeated his words, in the usual yet shocking factuality and neutrality Robin couldn't help but admire. Perhaps this was his way of refraining from murdering Morgan right in this instant, or of trying to distance himself from the reality and gravity of his own words. Either way, it seemed to be working. "That is why it hurt without reason when he touched your back. As far as I could tell, the spell he used would have resulted in immense pain for you whenever someone other than him would physically touch you, up to the point where a mere embrace could be fatal. Initially the effect was obviously limited to your back only, but as you yourself noticed, it was already expanding both in the affected area and the pain caused by touch by the time I removed it."

"What fucked up kind of spellwork is that?! And why… I mean… He-... it's…" Robin groaned when she couldn't get her cluster of thoughts out as a stringent sentence, then hid her face in her hands to regain some order in her mind. This was madness all over again… Morgan was a bloody professor, he couldn't just curse her!!! People would know what he did if she'd made it to the infirmary. If she had made it, that is. Bloody hell, this really gave his insanity a dangerous twist now. This was the first time he had actively tried to harm her, and it obviously had been planned. Nobody just spontaneously came up with a curse like that! Then again, what-...

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she felt a gentle tug on her hair. Actually, what she felt was her wand being tugged out of the by now more messy than neat bun. She finally dropped her hands from her face when her hair softly spiralled down her back a moment later, and she couldn't help smiling at Snape when he brushed a strand of it out of her face. It really was her luck that nobody knew how amazing he was… a shame, but also her privilege. And he didn't even need to say a single thing for her to know exactly what he meant to say.

"I know… Sorry. I'm not getting lost again." Robin sighed after a moment. "It's just… I don't understand him at all at this point, and I'm not used to not understanding things. It's not only dangerous, but also very irritating."

"I see." He replied while setting her wand down on the coffee table behind the sofa, then his hand returned to her thigh to draw small circles which Robin found ineffably soothing now. She figured that it was the intention more than the gesture that actually made it more calming than exciting for once, and yet again she could only adore how he was able to do both. After a moment of calm silence, he asked, "Would you like to know more about the spell at least, if neither of us is able to make sense of Morgan just yet?"

"Yeah… How do you even know of such a spell anyway? And how did you know how to undo it?" Robin inquired with a frown, but thought better of it and went on even before he had a chance to reply. "You know what, nevermind. I'm not even surprised. You know just about everything, which really is my greatest luck."

"You might want to thank yourself for that in this particular instance. I only looked into historical spells after your knowledge of the renaissance helped us uncover my book's secret."

"But that was years ago…"

"I happen to have a decent memory, which is why I could recall this particular curse along with its countercurse from one of my casual reads I delved into at the time. The spell was mainly used in the late middle ages on supposedly unfaithful spouses or favoured mistresses, but given the timelessness of its intended use, it seems to have prevailed until the present day. In some circles at least."

"That level of possessiveness definitely fits in with everything Morgan has been saying to me for a while now. Guess he did put his mark on me like he wanted to after all." Robin scoffed, while absentmindedly playing with the buttons on Snape's shirt. "Did the scars stay on my back? After you removed the curse?"

"They did not."

"Too bad… I was hoping for some physical evidence of his doings."

"You certainly are peculiar sometimes. There has been enough undeniable evidence against Morgan at this point, and it has led to no results whatsoever, which is why I for my part appreciate the fact that there was no lasting damage done to you at least."

"Well-... You're probably right. Coming to think of it, I really have had enough injuries after the thing last summer. The girls were rather horrified when they saw the scar tonight; I don't need another to prove the case."

That brought a small but curious frown to his face, and after what seemed like a moment of internal debate, he finally gave in to it. "It has been months since, and they haven't seen it before now?"

"Nobody but you has." Robin shrugged with a humoured half smile. "It's not like I undress in front of other people regularly, you know… To be honest, I've always been rather afraid of it."

"In that case you are surprisingly at ease with it now."

"I'm at ease with you, that's different. When I said I want everything with you I did mean everything; no inhibitions and no conditions. I trust you, quite a bit more than myself for the most part."

"Terrible decision." He sighed exaggeratedly, which in combination with his words and expression made Robin chuckle.

"Seeing as I'm still alive and able to have this conversation, I beg to differ." She argued back with a smirk. "In fact, I think trusting you is the best decision I have ever made. Unlike my choice of underwear tonight, which was admittedly quite poor even for me. I'll try to do better from here on."

"Funny." He rolled his eyes with a not-smirk, then a sincere smile. "You really aren't uncomfortable with me in the least at this point, are you?"

"Obviously I'm not. I promised to tell you if I ever am, and you know all about my promises. They do come a close second to yours." She replied in a calm factuality that stemmed in the knowledge that it was absolutely true what she said. She trusted him unconditionally, and honestly, she had been doing so for the longest time now.

"In that case, this shouldn't make you uncomfortable either." He stated, half feigned neutrality and half feigned innocence, but with enough mischief in both to make Robin smile even before he slowly moved his hands up her thighs and to cup her bottom. It sent an immediate thrill through her, from the top of her head into every last cell of her being and down into her very core, and yet at the same time it also threatened to make her grin.

"In fact, it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. Rather on the contrary." She replied in a half-hearted attempt to keep a straight face, but the frantic beating of her heart echoing through her as well as the sheer blazing tingles on her skin made that positively impossible.

"Good. Now hold on, yes?"

Before Robin could make any attempt to ask what he meant by that, his hold on her tightened in return and a second later he got up off the sofa while simply lifting her up with him. After a broken second of honest surprise, she clung onto him as tightly as she could by instinct, heartbeat going through the roof for multiple reasons at once, but she also couldn't help laughing a moment later.

"What on earth are you doing? I'm way too heavy to be carried around!" She protested very unconvincingly even for her own ears, especially with all those broken chuckles in between her words. Truth be told, she loved every second of it.

"Some of my books are heavier than you." He returned easily, but undoubtedly with a smirk to his tone. "And I am disappointed by your lack of faith in my strength."

"I do have every possible faith in you, just… don't drop me, please." She said a little wearily when he started moving away from the sofa and the fireplace and towards the far corner of the room.

"Never." His voice stayed surprisingly steady even as he moved up the two steps towards the bed and into the growing darkness. "But carefully setting you down should be alright, I presume, because otherwise we would be sitting on that sofa until morning."

Robin nodded into his shoulder, unable to speak without making a fool of herself and her squeaky, breathless voice, and a moment later her back touched the surface of the bed, soft linen sheets grazing the naked skin on her legs so lightly her breathing hitched in return. But when Snape pulled back after putting her down, withdrawing from her grasp way too soon, she couldn't help but refuse to loosen her hold on him in return, refuse to let him leave her without his warmth, and all it took was a little tug on his shoulders to make him lose his balance and fall forward. A tiny smirk found its way onto Robin's lips in an instant; He really should have seen that coming now, shouldn't he?

______________________________

Tags:

@ayamenimthiriel @chibi-lioness @t-sunnyside @alex4555 @purpledragonturtles @istrugglewithphilosophy @meghan-maria @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @darkestacademiaaa @nizem8 @girilimoni

General Tags:

@wegingerangelica @dreary-skies-stuff @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @crystal-28 @adefectivedetective @lokis-girl-in-mischief @booklover2929 @iamverity @lovesmesomehiddles @akk4rin @whitewolfandthefox @stuckupstucky @kassablanca13 @delightfulheartdream @hayalee8 @lemonmochitea

76 notes · View notes

katyatalks · 4 years

Text

Mob Psycho 100 Interview Translation - Character Designer Kameda Yoshimichi - Otome Visual 2017

Summary-style translation for Character Designer Yoshimichi Kameda’s 4 page interview from Otome Visual 2017, regarding elements in the creation of Mob Psycho 100 such as: what inspired this cover art, the influence of fan art in the anime’s creation, Tsubomi’s design, the process behind the package art for the DVDs, and more. Includes some genga. Under read more;

[TN: The reason why I elected to summarise this interview rather than do a full write up is because a lot of the information given gets covered in December 2016′s Animestyle010, in “The Making of Mob Psycho 100.” I typed that one out in full over on twitter but that’s a long interview, and I don’t have the time or energy to reformat it for Tumblr, but if you’re interested in a very in-depth look into how Mob Psycho 100′s anime came to be I’d really recommend checking it out. Direct quotes are given in “” here. Enjoy!]

---

*~The genga illustration for Otome Visual’s cover~*

“With the recent popularity that Skating Anime has had, what’s this - a Shouwa idol collab?! It’s all in the little details in their clothing - their wrinkled shirts, white trousers, black belts - both around their waists and arms.”

*~Kameda’s comments~*

“Can you heaaaar me!! I am currently speaking directly into your braaaain!!! What I’m grateful for with this commission is I was able to design the cover in any way I’d like!! A cover is a reflection of current times, so, of course, I went for ice skating! You wouldn’t be able to find this kind of amazing content in any time period other than now! That’s what I first thought! Like, Mob Psycho 100!! If there’s not a certain Mob Psycho 100-ness present in the art then what’d be the point, so, the characters are being very serious but they’re also pretty laughable. I tried to create a piece of art from which you could hear their voices!!! What’s with it being Shouwa-esque?? Being lame is incredibly cool!!! Huh? Does that describe Mob Psycho 100?? Can’t answer that if you ask!!!! Please feel the amazing Paradise Ginga x Mob Psycho 100-ness here!!!!!!”

---

Kameda describes how he wasn’t sure how best to adapt the manga into an anime format at first, since from the art he was shown he immediately knew it to be very unique - the idea of using Flash to animate the show was raised but quickly shot down

Originally, upon being asked about the show, he based his thoughts on what a web image search for Mob Psycho 100 gave him rather than having the actual manga in hand. “For the most part, the results that came back would be fanart (laughs). It’s a bit strange - at that time, it was difficult to find art uploaded from the manga. If you could find anything, it’d just be art from the covers. So for the most part, an image search of Mob Psycho 100 would just bring you back fanart. A lot of that fanart would be… a shounen in a cool pose wearing a school uniform with smooth bobbed hair & sharp cat-like eyes, sort of like Hiei’s eyes (from Yu Yu Hakusho). Very different from the manga’s art. But when I looked at that art, I thought; this could work. Fanart is, fundamentally, ‘fans drawing what they like’, so I thought, ‘the anime having this kind of art would make the fans happy.’ Well, it didn’t work out that way, obviously. I was told the anime’s art should resemble that of the manga. (Laughs)”

He hadn’t read the manga so all he had for reference was art from volume 1 and the fanart he found online. “But I like things like spirits and urban legends, so seeing Dimple - a floating supernatural fiery ball - and being told the manga touches on the occult caused my interest to soar.”

Says that Teru is the easiest character for him to draw. “He’s overflowing with confidence, so it’s easy to put him into some cool poses. Mob and Ritsu in comparison, not so much. [...] With Reigen, he has a lot of poses that are like, he’s trying to look good. He takes a solid stance. I suppose Spirits & Such has such a shady air to it, and you have to hide that somehow, right? So, Reigen injects confidence into how he presents himself. A model-like stance.”

“The anime is faithful to the manga… ah, actually, Tsubomi-chan was changed with a ‘let’s make her more like a heroine’ conversation. So, I did so, but reading recent events in the manga I can’t picture her in her anime form (laughs). The manga’s Tsubomi isn’t much like a heroine, so I’ve found myself wondering, if we animate up until this part… just how will we approach it? The anime’s Tsubomi is so bright and sparkly, so she wouldn’t have snot hanging from her nose (vol.13 of manga), would she…? (Laughs). Perhaps we went a little too far with making her a heroine. Maybe, if we do season 2, we’ll turn her back into a normal girl (laughs). Well, Tachikawa-san is clever; I think he’ll find a way to make do with her current design.”

---

Picture text: "This is Mezato's first appearance, so I decided to make her cute!! Thank you in advance!!"

Picture text: "That girl was telling me such a stupid story this morning... aidzuchi* isn't easy, you know... I'll just ignore her tomorrow..." [* sounds made to indicate that you're listening to someone speak]

---

Asked about his favourite characters; “I love Mezato Ichi from the Newspaper Club. When I drew her in her character sheet in that pose where she’s holding her camera, I came to see her as being quite cute. So now I focus on her a lot; in fact, when I draw genga I sneakily choose the cuts that have her in them (laughs).”

“I also love Mob. Reigen stands out the most so your eyes naturally jump to him, but I love the balance that Mob has. His heads tall ratio... or rather, his face, and the way his body is proportioned? It makes him lovely. Ritsu is around the same height as Mob, but, how can I put this - the cuteness that Mob has, is lacking in Ritsu… due to the latter being quite standoffish, I suppose (laughs).”

Ritsu’s hair changing through the first season is discussed, and how it is purposefully shortened during the latter half. “I paid attention to making sure his hair was long especially while he was being possessed by Dimple. So it’d resemble thorns.”

“I feel Teru-kun is the most ‘yang’ of all the characters. The rest are more ‘yin’ in nature. Because of this, it’s easy to play around with his expressions - he’s fun to draw. Speaking in terms of Dragonball, he’s kind of like Mob Psycho 100’s Vegeta (laughs).”

“In episode 9, Dimple possesses one of Claw’s security guards, right? I don’t really understand why that security guard is so popular.” Q: What do you mean? “Because he’s just some middle-aged dude (laughs). He doesn’t even appear for long…”

After discussing the huge amount of SG!Dimple commissions received: “Unlike SG!Dimple, I don’t really get asked to draw Shou-kun. With this commission I thought to myself, I /have/ to include him here, and so I added him in. The initial brief excluded him.”

Asked about moments that stuck with him; “When Teru chokes Mob in episode 5. [...] Mob’s pained expression as he’s being choked is good, but Teru-kun’s face shows us… envy, jealousy, distress, anxiety.”

“Also, the ‘super real Reigen’ sequence from episode 12. The tension between Reigen and Sakurai is funny, but the art itself has had me laughing since production. It’s funny no matter how many times I look at it!”

Kameda’s idea to have the characters make number shapes for the volume art came from him watching ‘Tonneruzu no Minasan no Okage deshita’, specifically the ‘Mojimoji-kun’ segment of the show (where they try to make numbers from their bodies)

Volume 6’s cover art was first planned to have a whole ensemble of characters, but Kameda changed his mind on this - “if we do a second season, we can leave that for volume 12 (laughs).”

Volume 4's cover was originally planned to feature only Onigawara and Gouda, but Kameda found himself wanting to include the rest of the body improvement club

Regarding the pose we see on vol 6’s package art, “My original thoughts for that cover were to have Reigen and Mob in a ‘hell wheel’ pose, like, Mob pulling Reigen’s legs and arms… but that wouldn’t be very fitting for the final volume.”

His message to the readers; “Thank you for your support! With sales, the ‘this is popular!’ message gets conveyed, and the more support you give us, then there’s no doubt we’ll be able to produce season 2 and season 3!! Season 2 relies on your support. It’s in your hands - thank you!!”

---

Crossposted on twitter here.

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #anime visual 2017 #Kameda Yoshimichi #interview #sg!dimple middle age man rights

173 notes · View notes

recurring-polynya · 3 years

Note

For the AU drabbles, can you do Renji ending up in Spirit Society and meeting Tengu!Rukia and Tengu!Byakuya?

I described the bones of this AU in this art post (you should probably read it first).

Given that I did all that work up front, instead of writing something that makes sense, I am going to be very self-indulgent and write this out-of-context Feels Fiesta where Tengu!Rukia doesn’t want Regular!Renji to go home.

Read on ao3 (features the pictures from the first post) or ff.net

🐦 ✨ 💔

Rukia staggered over to the library table, carrying far too many rolled-up maps. She attempted to tip the first one gently onto the table, but instead, half a dozen rolled out of her arms. “Watch out!” she yelped helplessly.

The Shinigami Abarai Renji had exceptional reflexes, though, and he deftly scooped his ink stone out of danger as a map rolled past the spot where it had sat just a moment before.

“Sorry,” Rukia apologized, her feathers wilting. She wanted so badly to be a help for once, and instead, she couldn’t seem to stop embarrassing herself.

Renji flashed her one of his brilliant smiles. She wondered if all shinigami smiled so freely. It seemed a strange quality for a god of death to possess, but very little about Renji comported with her conception of what death gods should be like. The Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo smiled often as well. Rukia had assumed that might be due to his human half, but perhaps ushering souls to the afterlife was not such a grim occupation as one might expect.

“Don’t worry,” Renji reassured her, the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkling. “I am a champion ink-spiller, so I’m pretty good at avoiding it. Thanks for digging these out for me. Were you able to find any that show the old kitsune trade route you mentioned?”

“I’ll have to check,” Rukia sighed. “I’m afraid they weren’t very well organized. My brother’s servant, Wakame Ambassador--”

Renji made a face like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“You must not make fun of Wakame Ambassador!” Rukia warned in a hushed voice. “He is just a magical construct, but he does have feelings!” She frowned at the maps. “It’s not his fault Brother didn’t put a whole lot of brains in him.”

“I would never,” Renji reassured her gently, “make fun of Wakame Ambassador.” He fiddled with his brush. “He just… reminds me of something from back home.”

Rukia knew she should get to work looking for the map he wanted, but she couldn’t help herself. She was so curious about his Soul Society, and he was so close-mouthed about it. “Do you miss it?”

“Hmm?”

“Soul Society,” she said, rolling the word around in her mouth. “Do you miss it?”

“Oh,” Renji replied. “A little. I haven’t really been gone that long, and I do want to help you folks out. I am starting to get these little pangs, though.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t’ve expected to get one over Wakame Ambassador.”

“They must miss you,” Rukia pressed. “You’re a very important person, there, right?”

Renji let out a sharp guffaw. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Rukia’s brows furrowed. “But you said the captain you serve is a powerful clan head and a great warrior! Aren’t you the leader of his armies?”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. “I guess you could say I have an important job, that’s true. It’s not quite the same as being an important person.”

It made no sense, in Rukia’s opinion. She had never seen swordwork to match his, and then he knew shinigami magic as well. He spoke so knowledgeably of strategy and tactics, he must be a scholar of warfare. Yet, he interacted so easily with the tengu troops. He was a natural leader in the way she wasn’t. Not that Brother would ever let her lead troops into battle in any case. “You know,” she started slowly. “Brother is very impressed with you.”

Renji raised one skeptical eyebrow.

“He is!” Rukia insisted. “And… if you are not appreciated in your homeland, I think that Brother would be most happy to have you stay! He would make you his war leader, I am sure of it!”

A very strange look came over Renji’s face. Rukia found herself talking faster and faster, as if her words could outpace his doubts.

“Demons notwithstanding, the Spirit Society is a wonderful place to live, and the tengu are the best of its tribes. I know you would feel self-conscious to not have a set of handsome wings or magnificent horns, but you have such interesting barring on your skin and your plumage is a lovely color. You would be very popular nonetheless!”

“Plumage?” Renji echoed blankly, his hand going to his hair.

“The costumes you and Kurosaki Ichigo fashioned were very clever. They would not fool another tengu, of course, but…” Rukia trailed off, unable to put into words the way her heart had sped up when she had seen him wearing the dark pinions and red-tipped horns of a tengu warrior. Of course, if he had been born a tengu, she was sure he would not have such common coloring. She could imagine him with a fine set of double wings, like her brother’s, blood red, tipped in black, and with great curling horns, like the woodcuts of the mighty warriors in her history books. “Or maybe there’s a spell that could grow you wings!” she realized suddenly. “I am very good at magic, you know, I could look through my spellbooks.”

Suddenly, his big, warm hand with its funny, blunt fingernails encased her own. “Rukia,” he cut her off. “Thank you. That’s a very generous offer, and believe me, I’m flattered.”

Rukia looked into his face. With its sharp nose and narrow, beady eyes, it was so clear that he belonged among her beautiful bird tribe, not a bunch of boring, ugly ghosts. It was unfair. “But?”

He shrugged. “But I gotta go home.”

There was a long silence. “Why?”

“Well, I got my friends, my squad, my captain. People who depend on me.”

“People who care for you?”

“Er, right.”

He hesitated. If he hadn’t hesitated, Rukia would have held her tongue. But it seemed, in that hesitation, there was a chance, and she felt like she had to take it. “There… there could be people here who would care for you, given time. Maybe there are already.” She took a deep breath. “I would like you to stay.”

A deeply pained look came over his face.

Rukia’s gut plummeted. It had been a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I should not have said anything.”

Renji’s face hardened. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and his hand tightened on hers so hard it hurt a little. “It’s not easy to put yourself out there, but you’ve always been braver than me.”

Rukia frowned. What could he possibly mean by that?

“It’s really hard for me to say this. You have no idea how hard. I like you, too, you know. I like you so much. But there’s… my heart’s already spoken for, Rukia. It has been for a long time. She’s… she’s a lot like you. Tough and clever and beautiful and the best friend you can imagine. And that’s part of why it could never be fair to you if I… if you and I...”

Of course. Of course he already had someone, how could she have been so foolish? But why hadn’t he mentioned this before? And why did his voice crack so when he spoke of her? “She does not return your love,” Rukia realized, the words escaping her mouth before she could catch them.

Rukia expected Renji’s face to look even more pained, but instead, his brow softened and his mouth curved into a fond smile. “I dunno, actually. It’s… it’s never been the right time or the right place. We’ve been through a lot together, though, her and me, and I know that she’d miss me if I didn’t come back.” He snorted ruefully. “I’d give every kan I got to hear Ichigo try to explain to her why I didn’t, though.”

Suddenly, a number of things he had said clicked together in her head. And it had not been wishful thinking, she realized. His smile truly was brighter for her, his gaze softer.

“It’s the other me, isn’t it?” she said softly.

Renji’s face stiffened, and then he sighed. “Of course it is. I can’t manage to keep stuff from you in any world, it seems.”

“I met her once, you know,” Rukia noted coolly, despite the turmoil in her chest. “The last time Kurosaki Ichigo was here.” She paused. “She did not seem a fool.”

Renji laughed, and patted her hand boisterously. The tension between them released like steam from a kettle. “Believe me, she’d have to be, to put up with me after all the grief I give her.”

Rukia regarded him under lidded eyes as she reached for one of the maps. “You already told me that she resembles me. Do not pretend she does not pay you back four-fold.

Renji regarded her right back. “I won’t.”

Rukia’s heart felt tender and achy, but warm, as well. The other Rukia must love him back, she was sure of it, even if she couldn’t say so. The alternative was too sad to bear. “I wonder,” she sighed, “why there is no version of you in this world.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Renji replied. “There probably is. He’s just not a tengu. You folks are way too elegant and clean-cut for the likes of me. It’s an honest miracle I ever met my Rukia in the first place.”

Rukia gaped. “Surely not! You are a noble warrior! Strong and handsome and polite!”

Renji gave out a bark of laughter. “That’s only because I’ve spent a long time trying to get this way. You got any nue in Spirit Society? Or ookami?” He thought for a moment. “I’m not sure I’m even classy enough to be a wolf spirit. Inugami?”

“We have all of those,” Rukia replied, bristling. But the dog demons are not to be trusted! Brother says they are barely better than the kitsune!”

“Mmm,” Renji replied with a shrug. “Right. Well. Like I said. Never the right time. Never the right place.” He turned back to the war record he’d been looking through.

Rukia’s face fell. She felt like she had failed him, somehow. Was it something about her brother? He could be a bit… insular to be sure, but the inugami were the very worst of the… dog... Rukia blinked and she traced a finger over the map in front of her. “The inugami are not the only dog tribe. Here, on the other side of the mountain. It’s hainu territory, which is why Brother doesn’t want to travel through it, but it has to be safer than that old kitsune trail. The hainu are an honorable people, if a bit unsophisticated, and they, too, would be affected if the demons were to swarm the valley. If they allied with us, I am sure we could fight off Grimmjow’s forces! You are a genius, Abarai Renji!”

“Me? What did I--?”

Rukia jumped to her feet. “Come. Brother won’t like it, but I am sure he will listen to you!”

“Why would you think that?!” Renji yelped as she hauled him from the library. Suddenly his eyebrows drew together. “Wait, this actually isn’t a bad idea. Do you think it would work? Have you ever actually met a hainu?”

“Well, no,” Rukia admitted. “But at least they have wings, how bad could they be?”

🐕 🤝 🐦

A/N: Okay, I know you asked for Byakuya, who… did not appear in the previous scene. So here’s Byakuya omake. A Byak-omake, if you will.

“What do you mean, the other me does not adorn himself with beautiful feathers?”

“Well, you’ve got a whole bird motif goin’ on, he’s not much of a bird guy. I mean, he likes birds. I guess. He just doesn’t dress like one.”

“How does he accessorize, then? Does he have a lush cloak of fine velvet?”

“Er… he’s got a haori?”

“Ah! Is it richly embroidered?”

“It’s got a six on the back.”

“A six.”

“Yeah, like the number six.”

“...”

“He said he’s thinking of adding some tassels? Gold tassels?”

“Gold tassels are good. How many?”

“He wasn’t specific at the time, but I’m guessing… two?”

“...Two?”

“Isn’t two enough? It’s two more than anyone else has.”

“...Two?!”

“...”

“Wakame Ambassador! Fetch my traveling cape and headdress! I must travel to the Soul Society to teach my other self how to dress properly!”

#my writing #wacky au requests #spirit society #i worked so hard to avoid actually referring to the nominal 'plot'#and then i had to end it #and i was like 'ah i'll just loop it back into the plot'#the 'plot'#that definitely exists #riiiiiiiiiight #anyway i'm in love with hainu now #they are DOGGIES with WINGS #what if renji were a DOGGIE DEMON with WINGS?#(and no shirt)#rukia would simply die

15 notes · View notes

decayandfanfics · 3 years

Text

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut later.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

_______________________________________________________

Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Familiarity breeds contempt.

Three days became four, then five. The hours flowing between your fingers and before you know it’s been two weeks and three days already.

Not that your will ask them to go. You were pretty sure the little trembling harmony that reigns in your home is as fragile as you decide by asking the wrong question.

To say you are comfortable would be rich, at least. They are a band of murderers, meanwhile you were just a student, but you would be lying if you didn’t accept the fact that the wave of fear had subdue to become some mild annoyance.

The thing is that the famous league of villains is as human as can be. Surely, they are insane, powerful, and menacing, but they also eat, and sleep, and they watch tv and smile when they are happy.

So here you are, getting in tune with their antics. Like how Magne likes to use your flowery shampoo because smells nice and it makes her feel pretty, or that Mr. Compress drinks his milk with honey before sleep.

So, you try your best to remember place and time, but then Toga asks you to paint her nails and asks if she can brush your hair because she wants so desperately to be your friend that something in your heart breaks a little when you remember that she’s just an abandoned child, with no other feminine figure to guide her. (Magne does what she can, but she also faces different kinds of struggle.)

Something in you began to soften to them and you simply cannot help it. Maybe is the little girl in you who wanted to be a hero but saw it impossible.

That’s how you end asking Spinner about his swords, both of you watching some tv program about forging historical weapons, and sharing about your parent’s death with Jin, who cries for you and hugs your tightly telling everyone he’s so happy to have a friend like you.

You end up buying vitamins and oranges for them because no one getting scurvy under your watch. Patching their injures and making some fast clinical examination of them, just to discover some of them are underweight, scrawny, and sharp. So, you cook for them, and made two beds in the living room because you’ve always had a soft spot for broken things and lost causes and somehow, you really want to make them feel nice, and you are no longer sure if this is about your survival or theirs.

Then is Tomura.

You can feel the attraction growing wild inside of you. How your eyes look for his figure inside the house and how you care about what he thinks of you or what he likes.

He’s not helping either, not when he insists on playing chess with you between playful back and forth, or sometimes just sits behind you in the kitchen counter to watch you cook. Silent until he’s not, asking “what’s that” when he sees you putting some spices in the pot.

He’s a curious cat. A fast learner and problem solver. Quick to intuition and creativity.

And you like the way his hair falls wet over his shoulders, clearing away from his face after he showers, looking less like a vagabond and more like a boy.

It’s awful and you know it. You can recognize a crush from a mile away and yours is there pulsing alive for everyone to watch.

The sad part is the what if.

Sometimes Toga asks things. Random things about medicine, about history, about books, and you cannot help it but to vomit everything you know about the subject because you are a scholar above everything else.

Those are the moments when Shigaraki will look at you from the corner of his ruby eyes, attentively listening and absorbing anything you say, siting quietly in a corner of the room, playing with his phone. Then he’ll hear something that catches his interest, asking you about it, his questions always interesting and more complex than Toga’s.

It saddens you to think of him as a student. His brilliance shining under the lights of proper education and love. What positive reinforcement and care could have done for him. Not that you know anything about Shigaraki, but there is no way a loving family could produce such person (not when you are more than sure that he’s clinically depressed), so your bets are on violence and abandonment.

What brilliant career could have achieved, what kind of things would he create, instead of just brutal destruction and (you suspect this one) raw self-loathing.

So, you dream of him sometimes.

You can see him wearing more than just a worn-out coat, a backpack hanging from his shoulder and his soft features clean and properly cared for. What he should look without the dry skin, the slouching and the eyebags.

You can imagine him crossing paths with you on campus, siting with you in the cafeteria, laughing youthfully, his persona free of the heavy weight of his wicked gestures, product of a life expended celebrating too much spite.

Maybe you would have meet him in other circumstances. A “friend of a friend” in some shitty party, the kind of boy that smiles when speaking, sharing some smart-ass joke, his witty speech making you laugh, making you fall.

Just like now.

“so, how do you know a quirk is a mutation?” Toga ask while you read some article in your laptop.

“well, most of them have a base or function as a variety of some primordial quirk. Those that are mutations simple work outside the norm and tend to be very dangerous for the everyone, including the holder, because as the mutation is a completely new expression of genetics, the rest of the body is still adapting to the evolutionary crescendo. That and, well…mutants have a very distinct look because the gene that comes with the mutation, also alters the expression of other common things like melatonin production.”

“Oh! I remember that! We saw it at school…with the Mendeleyev system.”

“exactly!” You say, but Toga isn’t done with the questions and you don’t stop the conversation before-

“so, how do they look? The mutants. How do they look.”

“well, they all have silver hair and red eyes.”

They look at the corner of the kitchen and only then you realize what you’ve done.

“Congratulations, Shigaraki. You are officially a fucking freak.” Dabi says from the couch, but Shigaraki doesn’t answer his provocation. He just keeps playing in his phone, the only sign of acknowledge is an arched brow.

It rubs you wrong. As much as anybody is okay with it, you hate the words that leave his mouth.

Maybe is the fact that he’s making fun of someone’s looks, or maybe is because hearing someone being called a freak sends you back to high school when your classmates told you that you were a fucking creep with that evil quirk of yours (or maybe is the stupid crush speaking) but it makes you angry, so before you can think of it, you spat.

“blue eyes are a mutation too, so you are no one to talk about it.”

Twice laughs at the comeback, but before you could taste your little win, Dabi makes sure to answer back because he’s being dying to fight you the moment he set a foot on your apartment.

“that was bold for a quirkless little bitch.”

You laugh astonished, deciding you will not acknowledge the fact he (very wrongly) thinks you quirkless.

“A quirkless little bitch? Seriously, Dabi? Where you raised in a fucking barn that you know nothing but fuck this and bitch that?

“yeah. I know stupid cunt too.” He barks referring to you.

“Dabi, cut it out.” Shigaraki snaps to no avail.

“Hey! We agree in no insults!” Compress try to quiet the fight down, but neither of you pays attention.

“I’m sure you do. Pretty useful to describe yourself I bet.”

“you sure like to bet, like how you are betting I don’t burn you alive for being an annoying bitch.” He threatens looking at the chess game still on the kitchen table, getting quickly into your nerves.

“Guys-“Toga fails to intercede.

“Fuck off, Dabi. This might be shocking for you, but you don’t scare me.”

“now, that’s pretty fucking stupid of you.”

“Dabi, shut up!” Shigaraki growls done, but you are not paying attention to him, so you keep pushing into the fight.

“I’m not the one insulting everyone just because I cannot deal with some fucking daddy issues.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT” he snarls before kicking the little table in your living room, breaking one of its legs.

“CUT IT OUT! I don’t have to know when it’s plainly obvious you have problems with authority.”

“you really think you are so clever, don’t you?” he states, crossing the living room, aiming to you.

“Dabi, get the fuck out!” this time Shigaraki yells.

“I know I am, asshole!”

He stops his tracks, looming over you. His eyes scanning your face before looking at Shigaraki, who suddenly stands beside you.

Dabi laughs darkly.

“stupid woman. You should know better.”

And then…he just slaps your laptop out of the table; the computer smashing open against the cemented ground.

Chapter 9

10 notes · View notes

axe-trio-commanders · 3 years

Text

~Magic Cats~

Ssso this has been sitting in drafts for too long, time to post it regardless because I want to talk about the different legions and magic because other people have been talking about cat lore and i have Many Thoughts and also no one on this site is capable of stopping me now.

A read more here because oh boy a suggestion of conversation topic somehow turned into an entire essay because I have absolutely no self-control whatsoever. (Might also be a Yahuk appreciation post at this point. Also, just a... general warning for a society failing its people and causing all sorts of insecurities and general mental un-health, mostly involving failure to conform to expectations. Also mention of death.)

Flame

So! First, Flame Legion. Clearly, they have a bit of an advantage at the moment because they never really lost magic? Even after the whole truce thing, they're still clearly using it, and best boi Efram seems intent on letting everyone learn it. It doesn't seem to be exclusively magic they're using, not quite- there's a half-decent bit of engineering in some of their weaponry, and they still compliment their smoke magic with knives. Granted, it's... definitely primarily fire magic. I'm not sure if that's jut more natural, or if, say, more water-based elementalists or mesmers just aren't allowed as much status (or encouragement) as those that can use fire.

Iron

Iron legion, as a very stark contrast, seems... very, very opposed to magic. I don't recall ever seeing an iron charr use magic. Create things to contain magic, yes- primarily ghosts- but use it? There's plenty of engineers, for... maybe obvious reasons, but I couldn't give you a clear example of an iron legion elementalist. (Feel absolutely free to prove me wrong by posting many pictures of iron legion elementalists, though.) Heck, it's Efram that suggests it, but adding a 'flame legion kick' to Iron's weapons being an entirely new idea seems a little... telling. Heck, it's not hard to imagine using magic to improve your weapons is seen as 'cheating', at best.

Drawing off the 'Iron Fist of the Legion' personal story, it's pretty clear that Iron legion is incredibly strict. Samona (my precious, precious child whom I hold dear to my heart after re-reading two lines of dialogue from her) is quite literally banned from inventing for letting an Ash Legion charr into their super-secret-weapon base (that Ash already knew about because they're Ash), despite the fact that she only did so to stop Flame (who also knew about it) from sabotaging the entire thing. Good intentions don't matter- strictly following orders does. Her centurion describes the legion as a 'siege engine'- everything has to be predictable, and in working order- and, well... magic, as far as the legions are concerned, is anything but predictable.

Blood

Blood legion, while probably still biased against them, seems... less strict. I could, in fact, name a blood legion elementalist- Yahuk Fellstrike. I'm probably going to be going off a lot of his dialogue here, but you can get a lot from what he says after you rescue him from Flame in the ash legion story mission. The fact that you can specifically ask 'how was being an elementalist in blood legion' is... pretty telling in and of itself, and he admits that some officers got upset about it, but neither Rytlock (good on you, bud) nor his warband really cared. So it's definitely discouraged, still, but not outright banned. Then, in the next question, you ask about him joining your warband in Ash, and he says the officers were rather upset about it- heck, Rytlock only agrees to it because he likes you. (I fought one ghost with you sir I do not understand-) It's also worth noting that it seems like Rytlock called the mission in the first place- though, granted, he might have personal reasons for liking this particular warband. (Eyes Crecia) Still, Yahuk evidently gained enough respect that charr other than Rytlock and his warband didn't want him to leave.

There's also probably plenty more examples of magic-use in Blood legion, the obvious one being Crecia (though between her clear experience with subterfuge and poisons and and offhand comment about Rytlock around grothmar involving 'keeping it in the legions' I had to verify that she'd never somehow gotten Ash training somewhere, especially considering the 'why can't we just set them on fire instead of this sneaky sneak nonsense' that Yahuk's journal makes pretty clear, and honestly she miiiiight be a bit of an outlier bc Bangar seems to be kinda Like That sometimes). It's harder to be in blood legion and use magic, but if you can clearly destroy your enemies without mercy you'll probably be more-or-less fine. (Besides the inherent mental damage that having to work significantly harder than everyone else to prove yourself in a society that very much values aggression and violence causes, but like. They won't actively prevent you from ever using it or ban you from the legion. Just a bit more trauma, you’ll be fiiiiiiine.)

Ash

And then... and then there's Ash legion. I'm going to talk a lot about it because it's where my Commander's from and I have a lot of Feelings about it, but there's gonna be a lot of subjective stuff because we don't really know a lot about them? We don't know their homeland, don't know much about their imperator, don't have a lot of Big-Name-Characters in the story from that legion besides their imperator- heck, even being in the legion as part of your personal story doesn't give you much. But, from that and how other charr talk about them, we can gather that... well, no one else knows anything about them either, and... Iron and Blood don't seem to like them very much? I don't consider anything in Bangar's speech when he’s praising them to mean anything on this point because it's... Bangar, but there's a good few instances of other legions' charr clearly vocalizing distrust and a general distaste. (Yes I'm looking at you, Ryland. Stop teaching Braham these things. Rude child.) Generally, the theme is that they're untrustworthy and cowards in combat- which... well, no, you don't send Ash to the front lines, you send them behind the lines. (Them and Crecia, apparently. This isn't to hate on Crecia, she's wonderful, this is me being very very suspicious of every single one of Bangar's motives- actually I could probably make a whole other post comparing her and Yahuk at this point, but this is long enough already;;;). But you know what else most Blood and Iron charr generally find to be indicative of untrustworthiness and cowardice, to the point of being shunned entirely or having to overcompensate for existing?

Magic.

I don't have any other solid evidence for it, but... it's Ash legion, there's no solid evidence for anything so I do what I want. And it makes... sense. In Ash, who makes a better spy than a mesmer? Who can spy on Flame better than an elementalist? Sure, charr find magic users more shifty in every legion, but you're in Ash, you're shifty by association already. Judging by the interaction between Rytlock and Torga (in the previously mentioned Ash personal story), it seems that Ash doesn't like other legions involved in their business. (They just want to be involved in everyone else's business.) They do what they want, how they want to do it, just so long as it gets done. It's a bit hard to judge, but they don't seem to have the rigid order the other legions do- and, diving just... right into speculation territory, I'd like to think this allows their fahrar's cubs to develop a little more... naturally? The lack of emphasis on being a fighter or some sort of engineer means that warbands of all sorts of skills and specializations could result, making the legion more versatile- something incredibly useful for a legion focused on sabotage. Sure, the easy way in is having a bunch of thieves, but if you can have an axe-and-torch-wielding ranger in your warband and still get the job done? Yeah, sure, you'll just get different missions. Have a lot of engineers? Great, you can spy on Iron. A lot of fire elementalists? Cool, go dismantle Flame from the inside and incite rebellions. Have a lot of mesmers? Imagine the possibilities. Just, y'know, know that we have seven other, better mesmers watching, and if you betray your legion you die. Different combinations, letting cubs grow up into their own skills, only means you can very likely have at least one available warband specifically tailored towards any mission you could ever want- any charr could be Ash, because an Ash legion charr is allowed to be anything.

...Except liked by the other legions.

Going back to Yahuk's case, beyond simply being good enough to gain the respect of his legion, it's very possible that joining Ash is seen as a... downgrade, an option for charr who aren't quite good enough for their own legion- a sort of catch-all. Yahuk seems to join you because a) his warband's dead (and finding a new one as an elementalist probably won't be easy), b) you saved his life, and c) helping him murder a whole bunch of the charr who murdered his warband probably gives you a whole lot of respect points. The 'officials' don't want him joining Ash, even when his whole warband is dead, and again- Rytlock only agrees because he respects you personally.

And then, going back to Samona... her own agreement to join your warband is quick and happy enough, which might be a mix of her own personality and various other reasons- but talking to her centurion is probably the most telling. Despite the harsh punishment, he doesn't really seem to dislike Samona. He says most of those she'd worked with would still be her friends, doesn't refute her being sweet and clever- but he does believe she'll do better in Ash, rather explicitly so, lamenting that he couldn't give her the flexibility she needed to work well while she was still in Iron- but an Ash legion warband could give her that. Despite how little the other legions know about Ash, what they do know is that they allow that sort of flexibility, that they have use for Charr that just don't fit in other legions; their 'Square cogs'. Even Samona, who... likely doesn't have an ounce of subtlety.

Now, Samona doesn't seem to care much, because... she's Samona, and neither would any charr raised Ash, but for any other charr, proud of their legion? Having to join Ash is signifying of a failure to be who you were raised and molded to be. Plenty might rather become gladium. Even for magic-users, it's the easy way out- and, clearly, neither Blood nor Iron have any respect for 'easy'.

And... boy, for Yahuk...? He might have joined out of respect for you, but then... you left. For someone who'd likely tried so hard to gain the respect of his own legion... what does that say about him? He knows why he joined, who he is, but that's not clear to anyone else, and Ash doesn't value the same things Blood does. The respect he's managed to gain means nothing to them. His ferocity means nothing to them. The leader he respected is gone, and evidently, isn't coming back- what does he have left?

...

...So, uh.

Anyways, tldr, magic in flame is normal (when it's fire, at least), magic in iron is outright heresy, magic in blood is only okay if you're really good at murder, and magic in ash is actually just fine but no one else likes them so it doesn't really solve anything.

...And Yahuk needs therapy. Like a lot of therapy. Please let him have therapy.

Thaaat being said, this is the impression I got playing through as an Ash legion charr, and I’ve probably missed a few things. Feel absolutely free to critique!

#charr #gw2 #gw2 headcannons #and to think i was going to try and fit this in an /ask box/#ahah no #no this is nearly 2000 words #and i could still write more about this too???#lws4 spoilers #personal story spoilers #i think in the process of reforming the legions they need like #an entire legion of charr dedicated to therapy #they need it #they need it so bad #yahuk fellstrike #samona ironclaw #i'm never completing that achievement btw #i don't care if it gives me a mastery point i'm not doing it #it's illegal #crecia stoneglow #yes this is my excuse for zori having the temperment of a clingy house cat #no i will not change this #rytlock: didn't your primus ever teach you that showing emotion is weakness #zori: ...no?? are you okay????#text post #long text post #like just so very long text post this was /not/ intentional when i started writing what happened #death mention

4 notes · View notes

rwbyremnants · 3 years

Link

WARNING: Creepy dad talk, das it.

HAPPY NEW YEAR and stuff! Thanks for the love and continued readership, I know this is getting really long (and it has SO much left to go), I'm going to try to keep up posting a little more frequently now just so I don't keep everybody waiting too much longer.

=Chapter 26

The Vale Police Department was a dreary building indeed. Small and quaint, but undecorated and forbidding on the inside. Grey walls and white tile floors, and burly men in blue uniforms leaning against desks and chatting with each other in terse voices. They all looked a little surprised to see a teenaged girl in white dress, ponytail only slightly askew.

“Hello,” she said with a small curtsy. “I’m here to speak with Jacques Schnee?”

The one with the black sunglasses on tilted his head back to look at her. ‘Officer Burns’, his nametag read. “You got a name, sweetcakes?”

“It isn’t ‘Sweetcakes’. It’s Weiss Schnee.”

“One second, honey.” He disappeared briefly. Weiss wasn’t sure if she was supposed to keep standing or take one of the uncomfortable seats just inside the front door, but just when she had made up her mind to do the latter, the man returned.

“Yes?”

“Ironwood says you can go on through. Just watch yourself, girlie; this ain’t no sock hop.”

Once through a door in the back, she saw another door made of iron bars. The officer unlocked this, then led her down a row of what she could only describe as cages. They were mostly filled with men, and they all seemed to be interested in wolf-whistling and cat-calling her as she walked past. Maybe she should have worn the longer skirt…

“Want in there with him? I’ll be out here.” He tapped the baton at his hip, suggesting he was ready at a moment’s notice to subdue any prisoner.

“No,” she whispered softly. “I need to speak with him, but I don’t want to be locked in with him. Not ever.”

That earned her a sideways glance. But all he said was, “Righty-o.”

Her father was not in fantastic shape, but in far better than most of his fellow inmates. His suit was a bit grimy looking from sleeping on the dirty cot in the corner upon which he now sat, and his hair and moustache were devoid of their usual lustre. The footsteps had brought his head up, and now he favoured her with a tight smile.

“Hello, little Weiss. Come to gloat?”

“Can we have a moment?” she whispered to the officer, not even daring to acknowledge him first.

“Remember,” he muttered, tapping the baton again. Then he moved further back down the hall, snapping things at prisoners here and there.

“Father.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he began while spreading his hands wide, smiling at her. “Gloating is still my first guess, but maybe you’re just curious. Or maybe you’re about to ask ‘Why, Daddy?’ or some other such drivel. As if my answer would be worth a hill of beans to a disobedient child.”

“Who was it?” she demanded.

“Who was what?’

Leaning closer, she glared daggers at him. “The one who set the fire. We both know you had something to do with it, so you might as well tell me.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said mildly.

“Yes, you do.”

“I have spoken to no one other than the warden and my attorney, Weiss. Certainly not to you or your mother - even though you both owe me quite the heartfelt apology.”

“Apology? You… we owe you an…”

After a moment, she began to laugh harshly. Jacques weathered that sound for a moment before he grew weary and snapped, “What’s so hilarious to you, my idiot daughter?”

“Oh, just that you somehow can’t figure out that you’re the one who failed us. I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, you’ve been abusing my mother for our entire lives, and right under my nose. I just chose not to see it. Too late for cover-ups and cleverness, Father; you tried to beat the both of us senseless.”

“You deserved it,” he growled under his breath. “All this gallivanting with gangsters, and somehow, I’m the villain of your narrative, just because I tried to discipline you?”

“It’s not ‘discipline’ to lash my face!” she half-shouted, ripping off the bandage to show the healing cut the leather had left there. “One scar wasn’t enough, huh? You won’t be satisfied until my entire face is so marked up that no one will ever love me! Is that about the size of it?!”

Sighing, he shook his head for a moment. “Don’t be hysterical. It’s unbecoming.”

“So is this beating you gave me. Not attractive at all.”

“Then stop earning beatings,” he bit out as if she weren’t grasping simple concepts. “The same could be said of Willow, really; she never could grow up entirely. And though the last thing I would ever want was to need to treat my wife like a child, it became necessary at times.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

Teeth bared, Weiss wrapped both hands around the bars so tightly that the knuckles turned whiter than her dress. “Who do you think you’re fooling with that ‘the last thing I would want’ routine? You do want this.”

“Careful,” he said in a dangerous tone.

“You want us to be your… your punching bags! Love to see us get hurt, love that you have the power to do that to us! It’s sick! You’re sick, Father, and I don’t ever want to be alone in the same room with you again!”

With no forewarning, he flung himself at the bars, just barely managing to catch one of her hands before she could pull it back fast enough. She tried to jerk away, but his snarling face was suddenly there, and she found she couldn’t do anything, couldn’t force herself to turn away or try to break free again.

“I’m sorry you were ever born, you ungrateful trollop. Daughters? I never wanted any daughters. Too much trouble, and too much like their mother. Don’t know their place. But I’ll be back to restore order soon enough.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Oh, haven’t I mentioned?” he continued in his oily growl, so low no one else could hear. “Daddy’s getting out of here soon. And you’ll have a lot worse to look forward to than some shabby old building being destroyed the way it should have been years ago.” His grin was positively demented, and she began to worry that his time in the jail had driven him over the edge completely. “I’ll mark your skin once for every stupid word of disrespect you’ve ever said to me. And Willow can look forward to the same.”

“No…” Gulping, she looked up for the officer, but he was turned away. “I’m- you can’t! You hurt us, the police-”

“Weiss, I own the police. I own this entire town. There isn’t anyone I can’t buy off, or call in a favour that they can’t refuse. Within a few days, my hearing will come due, and I’ll be out of this birdcage quicker than you can blink.”

Shaking all over, she whispered, “You’re a monster. You’re really a- I wish I’d never- no. I wish you’d never been born.”

“Then you wouldn’t be born, you bimbo! Honestly, how could I have raised such a dunce?”

“How did you set the fire?!” she demanded, hoping to squeeze some real information from him before she couldn’t stand to be this close anymore.

“Doesn’t matter, does it? I made sure it happened. And I’ll keep doing the same until you see the error of your ways.”

“GUARD!”

By the time he had turned around, he had let go and taken a single step back, enough so that it would not be readily apparent that he was holding her hostage. Shaking and angry beyond measure, she turned to make her way back to the front.

“See you soon, sweetie,” he promised in a carrying, cheery voice. “Very soon.”

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

“Wow…”

Weiss nodded as she gazed down into the malted she couldn’t even force down, no matter how hungry she was. Again. Her father’s words had ruined what little appetite she had left.

“Weiss, this is unacceptable,” Pyrrha whispered across the table. “He isn’t being… well, he isn’t being a father at all. How could he say such things?”

“I’d like to smash his face in,” Yang growled under her breath. Many of the diner’s patrons were glancing at her nervously; even if she was a girl, she still looked like a rougher element than they were used to seeing in the warm atmosphere of the establishment.

“Now, now… we won’t solve anything that way. Weiss’s mother will just have to work with Blake’s extra hard to ensure that he won’t be able to do such things.”

The brute rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure. I’m surprised you ain’t trying to tell Weiss to give him a second chance.”

“Well…” This time, she had to pause a bit longer to consider her words. “Forgiveness is divine. But he struck both his daughter and his own wife. Sometimes, God punishes people through the law, and I believe he needs to at least serve his time in jail before he gets any second chance. But if Weiss and Mrs. Schnee don’t want to give one to him… they have my full support.”

“Hmm…” Slowly, her head began to nod, then nodded a little faster. “Alright, Nikos. I guess I can respect that.”

Pyrrha's smile was weak, but at least present. None of them were in a particularly chipper mood anymore. She turned back to Weiss to ask, “How are Cinder and your leader? I can't recall her name.”

“Terrible. I haven't gone to see them yet myself, but the other girls say Cinder is in terrible shape. Salem will be just fine, and Emerald will need to wear some bandages for a little while. But they… they aren't sure about…”

When Yang's hand draped over her own, the tightness that had been building in her chest slowly began to loosen. “Hey. Not your fault, remember? And if it would make you feel better, we could go try to visit them right now. At least Salem and Emerald should be able to have guests and all; with Cinder they keep saying ‘family only’, but what good does that do anybody when she’s got no family?”

Weiss flashed her a grateful smile. “Thank you. And I know Sienna is helping them, but I really would feel better if I checked in on them myself.”

That was how the three of them reached the decision that they would go to the hospital after the soda fountain. All the way there, Weiss was on pins and needles. Would Salem even want to see her? But this wasn't about what anyone did or didn't want - it was about duty. Even though Yang kept telling her not to feel bad about what happened, she couldn't help feeling partially responsible since it was her father's doing.

As they had worried, Cinder was not available for visiting hours. But Salem was. The worst she had suffered was mild smoke inhalation and a few bruises. They also learned that Emerald would soon be released once her bandages were firmly in place, though Weiss had a sneaking suspicion that she would want to remain by Cinder's side.

The strangest thing about Salem wasn't the oxygen tube running underneath her nostrils, or seeing her in the sterile surroundings of a hospital. It was seeing her face and hair in full. She wasn't just pale… she was white. An albino! Weiss had heard some people were born without enough pigment in their skin, but had never met anyone like that before. Her hair was also yet whiter than her own, and done up into several braids. The curtains on her window were drawn, and now she understood that was to protect her sensitive skin from the harsh rays of the sun, just as that ever-present cloak usually helped with.

“Are you just going to stare?”

Dipping her head in mild chagrin, she and Yang paced into the room. “High Dragon. I'm glad to see you are well.”

“And I you, Little Schnee. Though I'm saddened to hear about Cinder. She was… still is, one of my most loyal girls. A fierce Dragon. To lose her would be a great tragedy.”

“I'm sorry, too,” Weiss said. She wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible. “And… I'm afraid I am partially to blame.”

“Oh?”

“It wasn't really her fault,” Yang butted in, voice urgent. “Just because he's a big-”

“Silence, Xiao Long.” Her tone was merely cold, not overly severe. Either way, Weiss saw her girlfriend shut down immediately. “You were saying?”

As succinctly as she could, she explained about what had gone on between her parents, the abuse they had both received at the hands of her father. Then she summarized her visit to the jail itself, and everything he had said. As she listened, Salem made no other remark other than to ask for clarification on a point or two, and nodded or shook her head very slightly. It was as if she were listening to the news on the radio.

“I see. And because your father has taken these actions against us, you feel it is your responsibility?”

“Yes. You… you asked me to… regain his trust, be his good little girl, and I couldn't do that. Now, he thinks he's going to destroy all of us just to make me obey him again. I failed.” She felt Yang's hand fall to her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. “No, I don't deserve to be comforted about this! I'm a Dragon now. You were trusting me to do a job, and I didn't, and I deserve whatever punishment you give me.”

There were a long few seconds that passed in silence in that hospital room. Yang's hand went to her shoulder again, unperturbed by her effort to get her to stop, and Weiss neither pushed her away nor acknowledged it.

“Your apology has been noted. No disciplinary action is needed at this time.”

“What?”

“However,” she went on with a single finger raised, eyes locked onto Weiss's. “You should never do that again. Before going to see him in prison, you should have consulted with me, or with the acting High Dragon - Yang.”

“What?” It was Yang this time, stunned. “I thought… well, I know I'm supposed to be someday, but I'm still a kid. Isn't Kali-”

The way she shook her head made Yang fall silent. “No. You should take her counsel into consideration, of course, but you are my successor. Not Kali, not Cinder, and not anyone else. I thought I had made that perfectly clear in the past.”

“You have,” she assured her with a brief bow. “Sorry. I won't forget that next time - but I hope there isn't a next time.”

“One can never know.” Her eyes returned to Weiss, pale hands folding in her lap. “As for you… I suppose you have done no real harm, not directly. This matter will be dealt with. Do you still believe that your mother can be swayed to our side?”

“I, um… I'd rather she not be any more involved than necessary. But yes, she's still working with Kali. And I can tell you she's completely finished with my father! We both are.”

“Then I find that satisfactory for the moment. If you could fetch Sienna from the hall, I believe we have much to discuss before my discharge. You are both dismissed.”

Though she had an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach, Weiss did as she was asked. Once they had spoken with Sienna, who looked tired enough for a dozen lifetimes but was as vigilant as ever, Yang led her to the waiting room where Pyrrha sat, sipping from a paper cup of water and looking completely out of her element. She stood the minute she saw the two of them approach.

“How are they?”

“Salem's fine,” Weiss told her softly. “Emerald, too, but… still no word on Cinder. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”

“I'm worried.” They both turned it to look at Yang, and she shrugged her shoulders. “The way Salem said she'd just ‘take care of it’. What's that mean?”

Pyrrha's shrug was even higher than Yang's. “Search me. But it sounds to me as if she doesn't hold Weiss responsible for what happened. That's a good thing, isn't it?”

“It is,” Weiss sighed weakly. “Now let's get out of here. Hospitals give me the creeps.”

“Me, too,” Yang admitted. She had seemed a little on edge since they got there, but Weiss attributed that to their pending talk with Salem. “Ever since Mom- I mean, Summer…”

Now it made too much sense. Sliding her arm around Yang's waist, she began to lead the other two outside. If they never saw the inside of a hospital again, it would be too soon.

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

This time, Yang went with Weiss when she made her way home. There was a possibility the introduction could be awkward, and Yang had certainly expressed a plethora of misgivings, but she wanted to get it out of the way immediately - especially if her mother was going to have more and more contact with the Dragons. Salem seemed to be under the impression that it would become such a regular occurrence that she might as well be one of them, but Weiss was determined to keep that from happening; her high-society mother was not ready to enter that world. Not fully.

Willow Schnee was getting set up in the living room for Kali's daily visit. Though Weiss had never seen her mother dating before, she was certainly pulling out all the stops for her guest as if she were; finger sandwiches, the good tea set, and quite a lovely, pale pink dress gracing her figure. That certainly did nothing to dissuade Weiss from thinking there was a larger amount of affection between the two of them than two new friends would typically share. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, and her expectant expression turned into one surprise.

“Oh! Weiss, hello! Sorry, I thought you would be out quite late this evening. Weren't you going to spend time with your new friends?”

Suppressing a wry smile at the way her mother said “new friends” instead of “group of thugs involved in organized crime”, she closed the door and led Yang over toward the couch where she was seated. “I wanted to check on you. Besides, I'll see them again tomorrow.”

“Well, thank you,” she set earnestly, reaching up to take Weiss's free hand. Her other one was nestled in the small of Yang's back, trying to be reassuring. It didn't seem to be helping much; the blonde brute was still sweating bullets. “But I told you, I'm fine.”

“I know. By the way, Mother, um, this is Yang Xiao Long. My, uhhhh…”

She didn't end up needing to explain. Her mother blinked a few times, looked between the two of them, then lowered her eyes to stare into space.

“Ah. So… she's the one you're… that you- well.”

“My girlfriend.” Somehow, her mother's inability to say it out loud made her need to finish the sentence herself.

“Girlfriend,” she repeated in a tone of utter disbelief. When no one else spoke, she looked up at her daughter, eyes pleading for her to take it back. It made Weiss's stomach clench but she pressed on.

“Yes. I told you about this, remember?”

With a slight nod, her mother turned away again. “Of course, of course. This is very…” A frown line creased the center of her forehead. “I'm sorry, Weiss. Really. I'm just not sure what to say about it. Everything I'm thinking sounds so…”

Yang volunteered a guess. “Bad?” It got Willow to look up at her, and only the presence of Weiss's hand in the small of her back kept her from retreating. “S-sorry, ma'am.”

“No, no, it's alright. That's exactly it: I keep hearing things that our pastor would say, or Jacques, or… but my daughter swears to me that it is true love, not just sin. And she's certainly had a better head on her shoulders than I have for these past few years. Who am I to argue?”

“Maybe,” Weiss attempted, her voice quivering very slightly from sheer anxiety, “if you got to know her, you'll see that she's not just a sinner, or an obstacle, or whatever Father thinks that she is. But you might have to try talking to her yourself to do that.”

That seemed to shake the woman even more. Though she had glanced at Yang once or twice, she finally turned to properly look at her. Whether it was how young she looked, or how uncomfortable and worried about the outcome of this initial meeting, Weiss could never know - but it had the effect of making her frown even more.

“Goodness, I am sorry. Yang Chan, was it? I'm Willow Schnee. Must have left my manners in my other dress.”

As she offered her hand for Yang to take, palm facing down, the Dragon looked a little confused for a moment. Weiss guessed it was partly because her mother had missed her surname and substituted that of Charlie Chan, since that was possibly the only Chinese family name the woman knew. Weiss was inwardly groaning but kept her comments to herself. In the end, Yang accepted the proffered hand and leaned down to kiss the back, as if she were some kind of prince at a royal function.

“Oh!” Willow gasped.

“U-uh,” she began, shaking the hand now even though it was still in that awkward position. “Nice to, um, make your acquaintance?”

Tittering with delight, she turned a wide smile toward her daughter. “So polite - and she speaks very good English! Will wonders never cease?”

Yes, Weiss did indeed feel like she could die then and there.

#princess and the dragons #freezerburn fanfic #weiss x yang #rwby fanfiction #rwbyremnants

1 note · View note

suuung · 5 years

Text

Potions and Anxiety

Professor Snape X Reader

requested by; @beautifulbows924

prompt: Professor Snape X Slytherin Student reader. Where she’s in his potions class and she doesn’t do the potion they are making right, so she has a panic attack and he helps calm her down- while they also confess their feelings for each other.

warnings: none

notes; why did this take so long to write??! agghh i loves the request, i just had some writers block. i hope everyone enjoys!

also, i may write a part two ;)

⊱ ────── {⋆⌘⋆} ────── ⊰

“No, Mr Malfoy, you are not permitted to take the potion once finished. I swear you students and thinking you’re so clever thinking you could trick us to cheat.” Snape hissed at Draco, rolling his eyes after his outrage.

You stood in front of your cauldron in your most favourited teacher’s potions class, carefully placing the halesbane into the pot, letting it float, wait. FLOAT?

You looked back down at your notes and the textbook, describing the steps.

Step 7

carefully and slowly place halesbane into cauldron, let it dissolve into the other various ingredients.

Why wasn’t it it dissolving? You began to panic as you stirred the potion, the halesbane not doing anything, then as you began frantically looking around you noticed everyone else’s cauldrons were a bright red, meanwhile yours was still the same clear blue tinted water.

“Difficultly Ms (Y/L/N)?” Professor Snape’s fierce voice spoke, walking up to your potion then taking a look before you could reply, he answered his own question as he tutted at the potion his eyes glaring at it, and giving you a disappointed look.

“Pity. Not your best work, (Y/L/N), Class dismissed. (Y/L/N), Stay after class to re-do the potion. If you do not get it right-“ He glanced over at you, his mouth shutting as he saw your frantic face filled with fear and panic, he lifted his wand to make the classroom door shut as the last student fled out of the potions classroom.

Turning your face away, hiding in your face in your slytherin uniform you wished you could sink away forever as your breathing got heavy, everybody had it perfect it was a simple potion and everybody was probably judging you because you couldn’t even do a first year level potion.

“Look at me.” Your Professor spoke, gently but demanding. Placing his hand on your shoulder and guiding you to turn your body towards him.

Your eyes widened at the use of his contact, and the concern in his eyes. No, he was probably judging you too, thinking what a pathetic student you were, you can’t even impress the teacher you were so fond of. Your face filled with panic again, clutching on to your uniform more. His eyes could read your anxious actions like a book.

“Shhhh, silly girl. No need to panic it is just a potion, remember not the end of the world.” He spoke softly, slowly enveloping you into a warm hug, you couldn’t believe this was happening, your heart pounding. Slowly you lifted your arms to wrap around his figure resting your head hesitantly on his chest. He smelt of old textbooks, potions and wood. You knew the cranky Professor had a soft spot, he would only be frustrated with students because he puts so much work into his lessons.

“Now, let’s re-begin this potion, i’ll guide you through it alright?” He pulled back a bit, concerned about how you were feeling, he felt relieved that your face had softened and calmed down. He really had calmed you down, feeling much more relaxed and relieved you smiled.

You nodded, “Yes, Thank you, Professor.” You stuttered, not being able to say much.

Your face still red from the contact, he stored away, going to grab the multiple ingredients from his desk and bringing them to your cauldron. He flicked his wand and your cauldron was clean and empty.

“Now...” He mumbled, staring down at your textbook, running his finger along the steps.

“How did you add the willows flower, (Y/N)?” He said softly, no anger in his voice.

You sighed, “I cut it up to four pieces then lowered it in.” You spoke, fear rising again.

“I see, now, you were very close dear, you just had to crush it up, the chemical that is inside the flower makes the halesbane dissolve. Remember, what do I always say (Y/N)?”

He questioned his eyes waiting for your answer, of course you knew, he said it every single class.

“The instructions for a potion are only ONE part of the process.” You spoke, giggling a bit afterwards at the memory of him yelling at one of the weasley’s for making their potion explode.

“Very good, Now I want you to do the potion again, this time crushing the flower.” He instructed slowly.

“Yes Sir, thank you.” He nodded and trotted away to his desk, sitting down and rummaging through papers.

You began right away, going through each step again, trying to remain focused but every time Professor Snape stood from his desk to grab something from the back rooms it made a creak noise, that made you jolt.

Adding the last ingredient, hasbane, you smiled and stepped back as the potion sizzled and turned a bright red.

You had to let out a weird noise of happinesses, a squeal like noise, then jumping when you forgot your Professor was still in the room.

“Finished are we, Ms (Y/L/N)?” You could have sworn you saw him chuckle when he stood, walking over to your potion.

“Err..Yes Sir.” You smile shyly, quite embarrassed.

“Good. Now tell me, do you have those panic attacks often?” He spoke, turning his body fully to you, well his tall figure towering over you.

The answer wasn’t that simple, sometimes it could be the smallest things, or things that put you in a state of panic.

“Not necessarily Professor, it can be during a test in other classes, but it’s often around this time of the year when O.W.L.S begin.” You told him, your heart still beating like crazy, he nodded.

Silence filled the air. Just then, you noticed. How close the two of you were, his face was near yours from looking at the potion and you could have sworn his eyes drifted to your lips for a moment then back at your eyes.

You couldn’t help it, after all he did, you were so calm but somehow had a big boost of confidence. You leaned in carefully and pecked him on the cheek then stepping back quickly.

“I..I should be heading out..Dinner begins soon and the slytherins might w-“

He leaned in again, placing his lips upon yours softly, making sure to kiss you very slowly, you lifted your hand to hold onto his, clasping them together perfectly. He pulled away, his hand still intertwined with yours.

“You are dismissed for dinner. Ms, (Y/N), I’ll see you tomorrow after class?” He smiled softly, still remaining his role as your superior and teacher.

You nodded, he kissed your forehead as you smiled up at him. Quickly grabbing your potions textbook along with your bag you ran out of the class, your skirt flowing as you turned and gave him a smile before closing the door of the class.

Arriving at the grand hall, you sat down next to your slytherin friends, one of them, hailey turned to you.

“Professor snape must have been upset huh?” She asked, mostly wondering why he kept you for so long.

“Oh uh! yeah, i had to re-do the potion.” You said slowly, trying not to reveal you just had kissed him.

“He’s so mean! God the old grump needs some exictment in his life.” She said, reaching out for some of the salad. You glanced at the head table, making eye contact with Professor Snape, he stared back dully, a small smirk showing, then turning his head once dumbledore began speaking to him.

Still, having your focus on your beloved potions teacher, you zoned out.

“Yeah, exictment indeed.” You whispered, smiling in a gaze then looking back down at your food, your lips feeling like magic and happiness still storing through you.

#alan rickman #alan rickman fandom #severus snape #harry potter imagine #severus snape x reader #snape imagine #snape x reader #love harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #severus is the cutest shit #slytherin

421 notes · View notes

queen-scribbles · 4 years

Note

🌟🍂🏡 for Emiri, 🌙☕🏞️ for Tavi, ❄️💐👀 for Adi, 🌼💎🌗 for Kei?

Emiri

🌟 When your OC loses all hope, who do they turn to first? What helps make them feel better? What calms them down and reassures them? Why?

Kana, when he’s around. Not even for crush reasons; he’s just so unflaggingly optimistic, she knows he’ll be able to cheer her up. Doing something to distract herself, especially if it’s something like baking or making the bracelets definitely helps settle her down when she gets gloomy or agitated.just for the comfort of routine.

🍂 What are their opinions on the different seasons? Which one do they hate and which one do they love and why?

She loves spring, likes summer a lot, is okay with fall and hates winter. She absolutely loathes the cold.

🏡 Describe your OCs ideal house! Give us a tour around! What’s their garden like? Their bedroom? Kitchen? Where is it and how many people live there?

She never really had an ideal house. Then she cleared out and fixed up Caed Nua and that was pretty much it. Before Eothas destroyed it. Which is why she goes back and builds the place all over again; that was home and she wants it back. The gardens are a mix of herbs and flowers, the colors complementing each other well. There’s just a skeleton staff at first, both when she starts fixing it up in Pillars 1 and then when rebuilding after Deadfire, but eventually it gets to be pretty full. And her friends are always welcome to visit. Her bedroom’s pretty spare; desk with a chair, armoire and a big bed so her pets(or at least Lottie) can sleep with her.

Tavi

🌙 If your OC could have one wish come true what would it be and why? Would there be consequences to this wish or would they regret it once they get what they want? What would they give in return for this wish to come true?

I mean. She’d want her family alive. All of them, not just Khellin. For obvious reasons.Consequences… well, it depends.if her family just had never died, she wouldn’t have left Old Vailia when she did and wouldn’t have traveled with Silversteel or wound up in the Dyrwood and met all her friends(or Aloth). She would definitely regret not having any of that. IF, somehow, they were just poofed back to life after thirty years dead, at the proper ages and everything, I can’t really think of any consequence to that? There probably is something that’s just not occurring to me. What would she give to make it come true… I’m not sure, and I don’t think she is either. IF someone approached and said they could 100% give her back her family, For a Price, idk what price she’d be willing to pay.

☕ Give us one (or more if you feel like it) of your OCs deep dark secrets! Why do they keep it hidden? Spill the tea!

She stole her brother Casius’ glasses once when she was really pissed at him for something(she doesn’t even remember what anymore). He’s extremely near-sighted, so he was effectively blind without them. They got broken, by accident(she thinks maybe some subconscious part of her did it on purpose) and Cas spent almost two weeks not able to read or attend school or anything. It drove him nuts. At the time, she wasn’t the least bit sorry.

🏞️ If your OC could travel to anywhere in their world where would they go? Why? If they could live there would they?

The Living Lands have been on her list for a while, that was her last big one. She’s done a lot of traveling as a mercenary. If she were to settle happily anywhere, it would probably be there, since life’s never boring and she needs some excitement with her stability.

Adi

❄️ What makes your OC sad, so sad that they can’t help but cry all day? How do they cheer themself up? Does their sadness upset any of their loved ones too?

💐 Does your OC like flowers? What are their favourites? Do they keep a garden of some sort? What flowers would they use in a flower crown? (and if you like, research the meanings behind those flowers!)

She loves flowers. Her favorites are cornflowers(by coincidence, guess what shade of blue Heodan’s eyes are…?), they’re so pretty and dainty and great for flower crowns. She also likes daisies and St. Gyran’s Horn, but she doesn’t keep a garden.

👀 Describe your OC through the eyes of another person! (bonus + specify who)

Kana would say he’s never met a finer scholar, or more insatiable spirit of curiosity. She’s intelligent, clever, upbeat, determined and he hopes her new circumstances(the Watcher/Awakened stuff) doesn’t dim her joy or curiosity, because that would be a grave loss to the world in general.

Kei

🌼 Write a short drabble from your OCs POV meeting their LI (or if they don’t have a love interest, their best friend. If you don’t want to do a drabble, describe their first meeting instead!)

Rather than do her in-game romance(Tekéhu), I’m gonna rewind to her first husband, Matiu. She was all of ten when she met him, he a year younger, and they hit it off immediately as friends. She very much liked this slightly gawky boy. Got up to all sorts of harmless mischief together, talked about everything, spent most of their free time together. (Honestly, neither of them was terribly surprised when their parents arranged for them to be married; they spent so much time in each others’ company clearly they got along and would be happy together. There weren’t really romantic/sexual feelings there, but neither had their eye on anyone else and both knew they could do far worse)

💎 Does your OC collect anything? Is there a reason? When did they start and is it beginning to turn into a little bit of a hoarding issue? What do they do with their collection?

She had a very neat collection of little figurines, very simple and basic, forged from the metal scraps after she crafted something. So little people or fish or stars or wha have you. She left it behind when fleeing the wreck of the caravan, so it’s still somewhere along the road to Gilded Vale, far as she knows. It wasn’t really for any reason; she just thought the things were pretty.

🌗 Early mornings or late nights? What do they spend their time doing during these hours?

OH, she’s definitely more of an early bird than a night owl, though she can stay up late when called for. She likes to be up early to start heating her forge, preparing for the day, and enjoying some time just her and the quiet of the world prior to the game events. During the first game, she barely sleeps at all, so she’s both an early bird AND a night owl(Sleeps for about three days straight once it’s done; is absolutely ravenous when she wakes up). Afterward, settles back to being an early bird, but doesn’t have a forge to light or physical labor to do most days, so she uses the time to just sit alone with her thought, maybe watch a sunrise. After she and Tekéhu are together she may possibly watch him sleep and play with his hair-anemones.

OC Questions

#tavi illani #oc questions #emiri #adeal tecali #kei ghan

10 notes · View notes

olehistorian · 5 years

Text

PHYLLIS Logan is only minutes back from New York where the actress has been promoting the new Downton Abbey movie. The national station PBS has been beaming out interviews across the nation, given the series about toffs and toff-servers has been such an success in the classless land of the free.

Logan’s voice is soft and a little subdued. She speaks in thumbnails, not given to flourishes at all. I factor in that the expansive, often dramatic language of hyperbole was spoken by very few in Renfrewshire in the 1950s and 1960s (yet actors tend to be more effusive). And I factor in jetlag of course.

But then again, perhaps there’s a little more of her laconic head housekeeper character Mrs Hughes in Phyllis Logan than we’d suspected? “Well, I can be a bit snippy, a bit terse,” she offers, smiling. “But only to my nearest and dearest.” Would Kevin (actor husband Kevin McNally) agree with that? “Probably,” she says, dryly.

Logan’s thoughts on the Mrs Hughes comparison continues: “She was written down in the script, of course, but I like to think I gave her the legs to run. But when you play a character there are always elements of you in that person. You can’t completely step away from yourself.”

Downton is a phenomenal television success story. The series, which began eight years ago featuring the Crawley family and their legion of servants, began with the Titanic going down, and has covered plague, rape, murder, interwoven with romance, often crossing the class barriers.

Logan’s character was voted No 1 Ever in a 2014 Radio Times poll; no mean feat given the subdued nature of Mrs H, a woman to whom flashes of excitement are to be discouraged as much as relations with those upstairs.

Yet, the original script described Elsie Hughes as a Yorkshire woman. Logan reveals it was only when the casting directors heard the Scot’s natural voice that they asked her to read in her own accent. “I was happy when she was cast as a Scot. She had that Scottish bluntness and I felt right because I have known women like her.”

During the six series of Downton, Mrs Hughes negotiated Branson the chauffeur’s assassination attempt, Carson’s Spanish flu and helped Ethel with her illegitimate Upstairs son, Charlie. The psychologist with an apron also sorted out Thomas’s homosexuality. And although she fell for Mr Carson, (or at least lurched slightly in his direction) it took a bit of persuasion before she agreed to a “full” marriage, where he would make occasional visits downstairs.

“We all know those types,” grins Logan. “But what’s nice about her is she does have a sense of humour. And she’s quite forward thinking. She’s a republican, and has a socialist bent to her for sure.”

Does Logan have left-wing sympathies, considering her late father, an engineer, was a trade unionist? She deflects by referring to Mrs Hughes. “She was of a different type. She knew people were thrown into a caste system but had to make the best of it.”

Yes, but what about you, Phyllis? Did you feel working class containment in Johnstone, where most people’s horizons didn't stretch beyond Rootes car plant or the local carpet factory (where John Byrne took inspiration for The Slab Boys – Logan appeared in the sequel, Cuttin’ A Rug)?

“You just accepted the way things were,” she says, sounding ever so Mrs Hughes. “I never thought I’d break out and become posh. But I did think it would be nice to spread my wings a little.”

Just a little? She smiles and adds: “But I didn’t audition for some of the big London drama schools. I thought that was a step too far for me at the time so I went to Glasgow.”

Not a risk taker. Not a wild child. But very, very good at what she does. Despite her careers teacher declaring the teenager was wasting her time with acting, Logan picked up the James Bridie Gold Medal at the RSAMD. On leaving she landed work at Dundee Rep and worked continuously throughout the 1970s and 1980s with the likes of Borderline Theatre. Real talent was revealed. Yet few would have expected her to land the role of Britain’s most popular posh totty in dodgy antiques dealer series Lovejoy.

Aged 30 in 1986, Logan walked into an audition room as Lady Felsham. Logan’s Lady had a cut-glass accent, spoke authoritatively of renaissance art and invoked a world of stately homes and castles. But in reality, Logan’s only castle connection was her housing scheme, Johnstone Castle, where the recognised art on living room walls was a classic Sara Moon picture. This new cut-glass accent had somehow emerged from a world where ginger bottles were a form of currency.

Logan’s clever deception (aided by being forced to speak RP at drama college) revealed that you don’t have to be a loud extrovert to be emboldened enough to convince you are actually blue blooded: you just need to be talented. “I can’t believe looking back now that 20 million were watching us on Sunday nights. The show was so huge.”

Many other drama successes followed such as Mike Leigh’s Secrets and Lies. But did she feel Downton would be the massive success it became? “I read the scripts and loved them. And when I heard Maggie Smith and Hugh (Bonneville) and Penelope (Wilton) were on board it looked good. Then we signed an option for three series but there was always the chance it could have gone down the pan after one.” Her voice lifts. “And then six came along.”

Did this kill the fear, the insecurity that comes with being an actor waiting to be hired? She answers indirectly. “It used to be that you always knew that when one job was finishing another would be on its way. But that seems to be far less the case these days. That’s why it was great having that guarantee of six months' work each year. And each time it was like going back to school after the summer holidays and seeing your friends.”

Logan seems the worrying type, so why volunteer for a life of insecurity? “And rejection,” she adds in soft voice. “And I’ve had a certain amount of that.” She thinks for a second and makes a dramatic statement that seems out of character. “You know, I wanted this part in Downton so badly I think I might have given up [acting] had I not got it. I don’t often feel that. Usually I have a what’s-for-you-will-not-go-by-you outlook.”

She laughs and allows herself a little flightiness: “Somehow I felt, ‘This is mine! It’s meant to be.'" She then contains herself and becomes more Mrs Hughes. “No, I felt I’d like to give it a bash.”

Logan certainly didn’t get into acting for the glory. She doesn’t seem to be consumed by ambition or the fripperies of acting success. She had genuinely forgotten she’d won a Bridie Gold Medal, and mention of her Bafta for Another Time, Another Place, (the 1983 Scotswoman falls for Italian POW tragic romance) doesn’t swell her head in the slightest. What she does want, however, is to act. All the time. In all the best roles.

“I just wanted to be the best I could. To find the truth in every role. You don’t think about awards. Acting has been the only thing that remotely interested me since I played Mary in the Nativity play at primary school. Then at Johnstone High I’d join every club that had anything to do with acting and take trips to the Citizens'. I’d be in any play going, starting in the chorus and working my way up to playing Polly in the Boyfriend.”

But, of course, there have been set backs. “My dad [David] didn’t live to see me graduate, [he died, aged 59] and that was a real shame but my mum would come and see all my shows.”

Logan’s voice becomes more upbeat as she tells of how her mum and aunt landed roles in one of her films, when the actress appeared in a drama set in Spain, The Legendary Life of Ernest Hemingway (1989). “My mum Betty and my auntie Margaret came on set to have a look around, and they were asked if they wanted to be extras. They loved the idea of this, and were dressed up as posh ladies with big frocks and they had all the make-up done.

“But it was a night shoot, and the second night as they should have been getting picked up they declared, ‘Oh, pet, we don’t think we’ll bother tonight.’ I thought ‘Have you never heard of continuity? Do you know what this means? I had to tell the director they’d both eaten something dodgy.”

Betty and Margaret clearly weren’t captivated by the acting world. Logan herself once claimed she wasn’t captivated by actors. She said she wouldn’t have one in the house, that they were vain people. But then she met McNally while filming the 1993 miniseries Love and Reason and they fell in love and married.

“What I meant was I’d never get together with one,” she backtracks, grinning. “But in a way it makes real sense. We know the business. And we can help each other. Recently, Kevin was doing three episodes of the missing Dad’s Army scripts (playing Captain Mainwaring) and I read lines with him every night. It meant I got to play every other character in the cast.” McNally must have found it a delight, given his wife’s talent. (She slips into a remarkable Clive Dunn/Corporal Jones voice. “Don’t panic, don’t panic Mr Mannering.”

But if all that sounds a little perfunctory, Logan, who lives in west London, once declared: “There’s an excitement in discovering that you can still fall in love when you’re an ancient old trout.”

There’s little doubt the relationship really works. But the Mrs Hughes cross voice emerges when I ask if Pirates of the Caribbean star McNally, who has appeared in Downton in the past, playing Horace Bryant, has a role this time around? “No, he does not,” she says emphatically, (subtext: he’s had his shot and should be thankful, a sentiment which sits neatly against her husband’s quote of the time: “Phyllis said it was like take-your-husband-to-work day.”

Was she a bit territorial? “Yes,” she smiles. “I was thinking: ‘You don’t get me a part as Johnny Depp’s mother and take me to the Caribbean. So why are you here?’”

What of the Downton film, set in 1927, two years after the end of the series? It transpires tiaras and silver will be polished until they sparkle. “We get a visit from the King and Queen (George V and Queen Mary) and there’s a bit of friction between the Downton team and the Royal household staff. Mr Carson (now on gardening duty) is begged by Lady Mary to help out. The cavalry ride into town!”

And, of course, there will be lashings of scandal, romance and intrigue “that will leave the future of Downton hanging in the balance,” says the official movie site.

But what of the future for Phyllis Logan? Despite running up continuous film and TV series, success, from Taggarts to Rab C Nesbitt, from the more recent The Good Karma Hospital to Girlfriends – and attracting great crits for her West End role earlier this year as Patricia Highsmith in Switzerland – she certainly has Elsie Hughes’ worry gene.

Logan’s run, she feels, could end at any minute.

“It’s a snakes and ladders life,” she says in Mrs Hughes' tones. “Your career can be going really well and suddenly the snake appears. But I guess I’ve been lucky because I persevered.”

Nonsense, Phyllis. Talent kicked in. You don’t get Bridies and Baftas and almost continuous work for perseverance. “It’s lovely of you to say so, but I’m not sure that’s really the case.”

Downton Abbey is out on September 13

#phyllis logan #downton abbey #interview #elsie hughes #lady jane felsham

72 notes · View notes

venus-says · 4 years

Text

Futari wa Pretty Cure Splash Star Episodes 38-49 + Movie

So this is what I've been missing for all these years???

It has taken me 10 years of being a Precure fan for me to finally watch Splash Star from beginning to end, and I feel like a fool becAUSE I'VE BEEN MISSING SO MUCH, HOW COULD'VE I SPENT TEN YEARS WITHOUT WATCHING THIS??????? This series is so good, THIS ENDING IS SO GOOD!!!!!!! I've finished watching it yesterday and I'm still in awe. Gosh, I love this show.

But before I can talk about the ending, allow me to dedicate a small paragraph to comment on the movie. Originally I thought about making a separate post for the movie, but I don't have much to say about it so I'm adding this extra portion here (thank god I watched the movie before this was posted so I can add this beforehand). This movie is very lackluster, I got excited from the first scenes, watching it in HD and not DVD quality really brings way much more life to the screen and I was pretty impressed, but then Saki and Mai started to fight before their performance and all the joy went down because it immediately started to feel like Friends of the Snow Sky but worse because Saki and Mai were never this "hostile" against each other before so their fight doesn't seem true to their characters especially considering what originated this argument to begin with.

The movie exclusive characters are good, sadly they don't get that much time on screen and they also don't get a lot to do so they're not used to their full potential and they end up being just flat. In fact, I believe this is a good way to describe this movie, interesting concepts that aren't used fully because they wanna focus on this fight that makes no sense and that is something they've already done before. I don't know if this has to do with the weird duration of the movie, it's not even one hour long, or if it's just the script that is weak, but I really didn't enjoy this movie all that much. 😕

But now let's talk about the good stuff, let's talk about the ending of the season.

I have so many feels I don't even know where to begin with. Well to begin with, in the title of this post it says this is a review of episodes 38 to 49 but that's actually a lie since episodes 38 and 39 are just fillers that don't add much so I have nothing to comment on. But from episode 40 onward the show picks itself up and it just goes all out to wrap up this story in a very beautiful, exciting, and emotional way.

I admit I was a bit afraid of how this final stretch would go when I saw that the final Dark Fall general was defeated in episode 40, but they managed to wrap up this ending in a very clever way. Bringing back the defeated generals at first felt like a cheap way to do it, but the fact that the villains weren't back for just a single episode and considering there was no monster of the week, all the fights were against the generals themselves, it really enhanced the experience, it was like in the Mega Man games where you'll fight all the Robot Masters again in one of the Wily stages. It was also great that they came back WAY STRONGER and the girls really had to give their best to win those fights, I especially like that they lost right away when the villains came back because it's not always that we see precure losing so it was great to see just how much more difficult it would be for them to win in the end.

The final twist of Gohyan being the actual final villain wasn't all that much surprising, I mean he's the character who's always plotting something I knew he would betray Akudaikan at some point, and in normal circumstances, I'd wouldn't be pleased with this fake-out, but because Gohyan is a character we've seen since the beginning and he has been active, either plotting against his comrades or actually going against the precure, it worked. I kinda wish they had kept him in his "elderly" form, I think he works better that way, but seeing how great the action was for that final fight I'm more than okay with it.

If I had to say one thing that I completely disliked about this ending it's that, aside of the Christmas episode that once again had the pink try to deal with her feelings for a guy who doesn't look at them on a romantic way, having a four-part ending didn't really feel necessary. I think they could've made it in a way where episodes 46, 47, and 48, where focused in the actual fight, like episode 46 is the raid at Dark Fall, the fight against Akudaikan goes from Part B of 46 and Part A of 47, and then the final battle against Gohyan goes from Part B of 47 and lasts the entirety of episode 48, and then we have episode 49 focused for the aftermath and the epilogue. But that's just a minor thing because they hit the nail in the head in the important stuff so it's all good.

And speaking of action, THEY NAILED IT IN THIS PORTION OF THE STORY. I complained a lot about hoe the fights during the season weren't as good as they could've been, but if they were saving so much just so this ending could be so action-heavy and look so damn good as it was I feel like it was a good trade. Of course, the repeated shots of Bright and (especially) Windy using her powers are still here, but it's incorporated a lot better here and they do some actual creative stuff with it.

But the greatest thing of this finale was seeing Michiru and Kaoru finally being back, again I was reluctant about bringing them back so soon, but they knew what they're doing and they managed to do so much with them in this short amount of time. And I think it only works so well because they did an excellent job with them in their first arc so we as an audience can feel for them and we can also share the feelings Saki and Mai were having because we care about these characters just as much as they do. And I also like that they were brought back and they served a purpose, they weren't just extensions of Saki and Mai, they had their own concerns, they had their own issues so it wasn't like they were there to do just a single thing and they were able to conclude their arcs in a very satisfactory way. They've become really complex characters and I was always excited about seeing them on screen because I knew something great would come out of it every time, that being either them in their fighting scenes or while they were doing mundane stuff like Michiru enjoying helping at Pan Paka Pan or Kaoru spending time with Minori. Kaoru and Michiru's story was everything Kiriya's story wanted to be and more and this is definitely one of the strongest points of this show.

Our protagonists were probably the less worked during this arc, they sort of became an entity rather than two distinctive characters, but it somehow works? I think that because Saki ad Mai are such a great duo, they have so much chemistry, and the show seems to balance pretty well the spotlight they give to each girl, that deciding to focus more on these two as a duo rather than individually doesn't backfire. Their arc is more about solidifying their friendship more and more each time and spreading that out to Kaoru and Michiru, and they do a pretty good job at that. I feel like a lot of people don't have high opinions on them because of that, but I honestly didn't leave the show with the feeling that something was missing in regards to this matter so as far as I'm concerned they're great characters.

Before I wrap up I wanna talk about the ending in specific. It was the perfect pay off that this show needed. After everything Saki, Mai, Kaoru, and Michiru had gone through seeing they fight the big final boss together on an amazing showdown was incredibly awesome, when they lost their powers and the remaining of the spirits still living on Earth gathered together to bring not just Bloom and Egret but also Bright and Windy personified in Kaoru and Michiru felt rewarding as hell. It's pretty sad Kaoru and Michiru aren't considered official Cures because this final battle wouldn't have been the same without them.

If you read my Kamen Rider reviews you know I don't like it when characters come back from the dead immediately after they die. That wasn't the case here, in fact actually cried during that scene. We've said goodbye to them once and it hurt, seeing that they would go disappear again was like having my chest crushed, especially after everything that went down during this final arc and their speech in the fight about not giving up on the future they want to build with Saki and Mai. I knew precure is a kids show so they wouldn't kill them, but I expected they would go back to the Fountain of the Sky to live with Moop and Food there, but the show allowed the girls to stay with their friends in the Land of Greenery and that made me feel all fuzzy and warm inside.

And that montage at the end, with the four together, Kaoru joining Mai in the Art Club so she can learn how to draw so she can spend more time with Minori, Saki teaching Michiru how to bake, gosh, very few things made me as happy as that little montage did. Even seeing that Flappy finally confessed to Choppy and now they're officially a couple I believe was very endearing to see. And this is pretty much why I wanted the epilogue to be it's own separated episode because these are all things I'd love to watch as they were happening. It was still good, don't get me wrong, I have the dumbest smile in my face from just remembering it, but I wish we had more, GIVE ME AN OVA TOEI!!!!!

I'm not sure if I said everything I had to say, a lot of what I enjoyed from Splash Star was how the show touched me with emotional moments centered around characters I've grown to love throughout these 49 episodes and sadly my vocabulary isn't so vast so I can put out all these feelings here without sounding more repetitive than I already do. Splash Star is a really wonderful season, it had a slow start but as soon as they found their identity they really shined brightly, this season definitely shouldn't be so overlooked. So if you never watched it, give it a chance, and if you have watched it already, please do it again, appreciate the show for what it is and spread the love that this season and its characters deserve.

Three seasons of Precure down, thirteen more to go. Thank you so much for reading this far, please share the love for Splash Star in the comments. I'll see you soon for Yes! Pretty Cure 5!

P.S.: I was revising the post and I realized I didn't mention Kintolesky and Shitataare became a couple in the Christmas episode and it makes me really sad that these villains came back to being dust because I'd love to see this relationship. XD Again, GIVE ME AN OVA TOEI (and come up with a dumb excuse for why they're alive like humans and tell us how they've become regulars at Pan Paka Pan and how Kintolesky and Saki's father became the bestest friends ever).

#Futari wa Precure Splash Star #Splash Star #precure

15 notes · View notes

waltrp · 4 years

Photo

YOUR TALENT MAKES YOU WHO YOU ARE. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF IT

BIDDI BOPPI BOOP A SPECIAL MESSAGE ADMIN ZULEMA: this is truly the season of returning members and we’re thriving lads ! Jill, I am so happy to welcome you back to walt. your app for Tiffani was brilliant. you have so much passion and love for this character. I know she’s in good hands and that you’ll bring so much to her. I’m excited about what you’ll bring to the dash with this feisty pixie ! Please refer to THIS PAGE for your next tasks. We can’t wait to roleplay with you. Welcome to our Ohana xx.

It’s a pleasure to meet you…

Jill, 30, eastern, she/her :)

My favorite fruit is raspberries

I love swords

I know more than I ever wanted to about Shakespeare’s history plays

No triggers!

Are you positive you can be active?

Yes, I’d been planning a return to rp to give me something to do during my day job once I was done with this season’s rep shows… and then covid happened…

How did you stumble upon Walt?

Walt was the first post that came up when I typed “Disney rp” in the tumblr search so I took it as a sign

Did you read the rules?

Yup!

Are you sure?

rfp

Character you want?

Tiffani Belle

Please describe the character for us

Baseball caps and glitter. Those were the words to describe Tiffani Belle as she was growing up. Born to a well-off family, Tiffani was the only girl her age growing up in her neighborhood. The boys all gave her the nickname Tink, because she was the tiniest of their playdate crew. The tiny blonde swelled with pride, and quickly had every single one of them wrapped around her little finger. She could get down and dirty with the rest of them, but she knew that being a girl made her special. She spent her childhood days fixing her friends’ bicycles, collecting grass stains on her clothes, and convincing all the boys that because they were friends, she should be their first kiss. (Somewhere in her childhood bedroom, she still has the contract they drafted on that day in first grade when the boys lined up to peck their lips against Tiffani’s.)

Tiffani took to the role of leader quickly. It wasn’t necessarily a control thing, but Tiffani liked to be in charge, and she really liked for things to go her way. She was headstrong from childhood onward, more than willing to use her leadership skills and stubbornness to fight for what she believed in – whether that be later bedtimes with mom and dad, or returning tater tots to the elementary school lunch menu. They were a kid favorite, potatoes were good for you and ketchup was technically a vegetable, and they deserved to be eaten!

Getting to high school wasn’t much different for Tink. Now she was a little fish in a big pond, but being small had never held Tink back before. Tiffani made sure to make her name known early on in her high school year. As the weather was getting warmer, Tink stood on top of the cafeteria table, white tennis shoes squeaking against the plastic table top, mini skirt almost dangerously short from that angle, and demanded students be allowed to eat their lunches outside. They had gorgeous weather half the school year, it was their right to be able to enjoy the outdoors, and their medical need to soak up the Vitamin D. Administration caved, and Tink was class president for two years after that.

But the older she got, the lonelier Tink became at the top. The girls all wanted to be her, and the boys all wanted to date her. Well, the ones that mattered anyway. But as the years went by, the more Tink became a leader and the boss, and the less she had any actual friends.

Fairy wings and pixie dust. That was when everything started to change. Puberty for Tiffani had started on the early side. She took it in stride, loving to be first in everything. She was the first in her grade with boobs (small as they may have been at the time) and she flaunted her period to her classmates because they were still girls but now she was a woman. What Tink wasn’t prepared for was the pain that started in her shoulders one evening. She’d spent the day with some of the boys switching between doing pushups and sitting on top of them while they did pushups. Tink loved to show them up whenever she can, reminding them that just because she was small and a girl didn’t mean that she couldn’t do just as many reps as they could. So she’d thought nothing of the pain, writing it off as having pushed her body a bit too far that day. But the pain didn’t dissipate, and it was a few days later that she saw them: iridescent wings starting to poke from her shoulder blades. The oddities multiplied from there. Tink didn’t know anything about what was happening (she knew how to use the internet, she’d figure some things out), but she knew that she couldn’t tell anyone. Not if she was going to stay on top. So the top became even lonelier.

Meeting Pippin Pan changed everything. He transferred to her school, and Tink saw something in him. Saw that he was a leader and an adventurer like herself, and to top it off, Pippin wasn’t immediately intimidated by her. In fact, she was sure that he saw an equal in Tink just as she saw him as an equal to her. The two became attached at the hip, a couple of teenagers at the top, and Tiffani would do anything for Pippin. Anything. He was the first person she told about her abilities, and he was the first person Tiffani had any real romantic feelings for. He made her heart race, and she was ready to see what was on the opposite end of their friendship.

Turns out the only thing there was disappointment. When the Darlings came to town, Pippin became fascinated with them. So naturally Tink hated them. She hated Wendy, she hated Jane, she hated that Pippin wanted anything to do with them at all, and she hated that she still needed Pippin as her best friend and her right hand. She hated that she’d shared her secrets and her heart with him, and he dared to care about anyone other than her. Green had always been a good color for Tiffani, it really brought out her eyes, but jealousy consumed the girl and their relationship never truly recovered.

Soon after she met Hook, and Tink was no longer concerned with friendship or Pippin or being a leader. What had leadership gotten her? After all these years? No, true leadership would come later. Tiffani Belle would take the world by storm one day, but Hook new about revenge. Hook stirred a darkness within her, growing out of that jealousy, his silver tongue and clever words working their way into Tink’s heart and mind. He could help her get Pippin back, and everything would go back to normal. But the blonde might’ve been in too deep. She connected with Hook in a way she’d never connected with anyone before, told him all of her secrets, gave him all of herself; he listened, was a comforting presence, and give Tink the push she needed to make sure stupid Wendy Darling was out of the way and Pippin would be hers again.

But the prank went too far, the Darlings wound up in the hospital, and something about that night opened Tiffani’s eyes. She was alone again, but that old spark – the one that was there before boys and feelings became involved – was ignited once more. Of course, everything had changed. She could never go back to the girl she was, not if she stayed. She told her parents everything, her entire side of the story, and even she couldn’t bring herself to argue when the decided to ship her off to Walt.

Second character choice

n/a (but I may also have plans for Honey Lemon and the return of one Rita Holden)

It’s time to see that sample para.

cw: pixie dust related flying/broken bones accident

Perfect. Everything was perfect. And then those stupid Darling children came along and ruined it.

What did Wendy Darling have that Tiffani didn’t? Tink had power, popularity, imperfection. Tink had magic: she could fly, she could shrink, her pixie dust could make Pippin fly too. But perfect little birdy Wendy Darling came along and none of that mattered anymore. She didn’t matter anymore.

Well fuck them. Tink had found a new companion and new friendship in James Hook. With him she didn’t need to be a leader anymore. She could follow and learn and love him instead. Not real love, of course. Real love was bullshit that got her nothing and nowhere. When she was eventually back on top again, with the Darlings out of the way, love would be an emotion she would let nowhere near her tiny body. The wasn’t room anymore for love. Just like there wasn’t room for the Darlings.

It had been Hook’s idea, but Tiffani had latched on to his scheme, and now the time had come. He’d been able to get close to the Darlings in a way that Tink had been loath to do. She admired him for that, for his ability to hide that side of him in order to move forward with revenge. I would be harmless enough, just a simple scare to put the darling Wendy bird in her place. She wasn’t god’s gift to mankind, yet somehow she’d made Pippin think she was.

Digging through her closet, Tinkerbell pulled out the bit of pixie dust she’d been saving. She’d only ever used this on two other people before: Pippin and then Hook; but now she’d secretly use it on the Darlings, too.

She met up with Hook on the edge of town. The Darlings would be meeting him soon, then Tink would take care of the magic, and he would take care of the rest. Before she shrunk to fairy size, Hook’s hands pulled the tiny blonde in to him for a kiss, rough and raw and fiery and full of passion, striking the heat in Tink’s body that rose every time he did that. Who needed love and romance when there were people like hook who were so sexy and free of attachment?

Hidden from view, when the Darlings arrived and Hook started sewing his side of the plan, Tiffani silently sprinkled her pixie dust on their shoulders.

—What? —No—Hook wasn’t supposed to tell them how it worked. They were supposed to be shocked when they suddenly found themselves flying. A shock that would turn their lives around the way Tink’s wings had turned around hers.

Rage flared in Tink’s tiny fairy body, and she flittered toward Hook at a moment when the Darlings had turned away, but he flicked her away with a wave of his hand, and Tiffani darted to the ground as she tried to regain control of her wings. Too late she did, and she skid along the ground, crossing her arms in anger and disbelief. But she couldn’t revel in those feelings for too long, because then Hook was leading them away, and Tiffani would be damned if she let herself get left behind, now that Hook had screwed everything up. He was just like Pippin, dumping her for Wendy, and using her magic to garner Wendy’s praises.

She doesn’t like to think too often about the in between; about the events that lead to what happened next. But suddenly the Darlings were flying. Except they weren’t flying, they were falling. Falling from too many stories high. That wasn’t right, Tink’s pixie dust was fail proof. Perhaps it had worn off? She may have hated Wendy Darling, but she wasn’t in the murder business. Another sprinkling would do the trick. Reaching into her pocket, Tiffani withdrew her bag of pixie dust.

Pixie dust that wasn’t pixie dust.

Too late she realized that Hook had switched the bag, pulled her in for a kiss, wrapped his arms around her waist, and replaced her precious pixie dust (which was very much a part of her) with something else. And she could only stare in horror as the first bone cracked.

Anything else, love?

Yup!

#waaccept #accept #disney rp #bio rp #rp #rpg #roleplay #animation rp #cartoon rp #school rp #university rp #magic rp #power rp

4 notes · View notes

hoshees · 4 years

Note

Could you please do Seventeen as Shinee songs? For a fellow Caratshawol! -- 💎🎄🥕

omg i’m LIVING for this question i love it so much…. apologies for taking so long to answer! i wanted to answer well :)

s.coups: hold you - try to contain yourself while u imagine cheol rocking key’s opening rap and then minho’s rap in the second verse…. spoiler: u can’t. this song is sexy and so is cheol. considering he’s one of my bias wreckers are we shocked by this development??? probably not.

jeonghan: odd eye - mostly i’m thinking abt that jeonghan solo stage… u know the one…. all i gotta say is: neck tat… like that artistic and sensual but somewhat sinister vibe that jeonghan can pull off so well when he performs? yes. i also think his voice would sound beautiful singing it–especially taem and jjong’s parts.

joshua: tonight - this song sounds like shua and u can’t change my mind. the lyrics are romantic but they’re also really natural? and i feel like his voice would fit perfectly with it too… imagine… rocket pt.2… joshua singing the vocal parts and vernon doing the raps……… ur welcome

jun: shift - ok ok ok so i was listening to this and laughing bc there’s a lyric that says “i saw you from the beginning” and it’s POIGNANT bc jun was the first member that caught my eye and i thought abt maybe biasing him but then hoshi opened his mouth and started talking abt shinee (a shift occurred… get it? hahahaha ok) so… that ship sailed but!! this song is one of my favorites and it’s kinda funky but still really elegant and i think that fits jun? also he could rly sing it well and i feel like him dancing to this would be *chefs kiss*

hoshi: juliette - picking this for two sentimental reasons: 1) it’s his favorite shinee song and he’s talked abt how it inspired him to be an idol and 2) listening to it makes me happy and soonyoung makes me happy so… :) + honorable mention to lucky star bc that’s what he is for me

wonwoo: undercover - alright where do i START. maybe with lyrics. “my feet paddle so quickly underwater / but my face is peaceful, you don’t know / even though i’m always so busy before the curtains go up / in front of you, i’m acting cool / […] just like the dark shadows / seep into the night / i’m digging into your consciousness / inside you, undercover” huh?? huhhhhhh????? this is so wonu. like that cool demeanor he has when he’s performing but also that versatility he possesses? and the TALENT. amazing. also for some reason the whistling in this makes me think of him i’m not sure why but it works somehow

woozi: beautiful life - this song was written by jinki and i feel like he and jihoon would share similar sentiments regarding this song. it makes me think of jihoon’s fancafe post after an ode broke their sales record and he talked about how grateful he is and how much work he put into the album and how “it’s a thankful life.” also the piano and guitar combo is so magical and makes me think abt jihoon and the kind of music he writes and how beautiful it is… and how he makes my life more beautiful too :) @ jihoon pls sing this one day

dk: i’m with you - when i think of seokmin i think of comfort and that was this song is for me. it’s one of the most beautiful shinee songs ever imo, which… FITTING. it’s definitely in my favorites and i would LOVE to hear him sing it.

mingyu: your number - this is one of my favorite shinee songs ever (it’s the first video i showed my best friend when i was trying to get her into them) falling in love at first sight in a bookstore while it’s raining outside? yes please. and i just feel like this song is so wholesome and clever just like mingyu. also i think he could really cover minho’s parts in this so well (the rapping and singing) and picturing him doing this choreography is making me smile so BIG wow ok i’ll stop now

the8: picasso - ok first i thought of this bc i was being cheesy since hao paints and appreciates art (and IS art) but the more i think abt it the more it just FITS… the vibe of the song in general mixed w the lyrics and the power of the performance…… very minghao i must say

seungkwan: sunny side - nothing elicits an emotional reaction in me quite like this song. do yourself a favor and listen to it while you read the translation (unless u know japanese? don’t want to assume lol) because you will be HEALED. this is how i feel abt seungkwan tbh like his voice is so soothing and his demeanor is so lovely and i can’t help but feel better when i see him :’)

vernon: get it - firstly, i feel like this is a very vernon thing to say. secondly… rapping. but in all seriousness the percussive aspect of this song reminds me of vernon like it’s got RHYTHM and so does he. the 3:00 minute mark especially has vernon written ALL OVER IT. it’s an older song so parts of it are a little cringe and the lyrics are a bit questionable but he could rly do something with it ya know. vernon rewrite get it and perform it pls and thank u

dino: why so serious? - LISTEN this song gives me chan vibes i can’t quite describe it but i can see him covering it VIVIDLY in my head when i listen to it and it seems like something he could rly make his own… powerful (that guitar!!) and kinda cheeky w raps that remind me of his style a bit

thank u again i rly loved doing this! caratshawols UNITE

#seventeen #shinee #perhaps this is the best ask i have ever received #also my japanese discography bias is showing #if anyone has any other ideas abt this or wants to discuss pls do so i'm so interested to know ppl's opinions #asks #sss

24 notes · View notes

desperationandgin · 5 years

Text

Deep As The Road is Long (Part I, Chapter 5)

Rating: General Audiences