#the 2 people i showed this to asked if it was a self portrait...i wish

[ferretrix]

Knight I

#the 2 people i showed this to asked if it was a self portrait...i wish #double Big posting today<- had to make this in 8 hours for a class . <- realized it was not due in 8 hours upon completion #good news im less nauseous now :-)

[lovee-infected]

Hello! Recently I've seen a lot of twst blogs arguing on how twst characters are mischaracterized, especially Malleus. So do you have any ideas on how he is mischaracterized? Also, is it okay to ask for your general opinion on questions like a short character analysis or how a healthy a relationship with each twdt guy might be? Hope it's okay to ask!

For your first question anon, it's a GREAT thing to ask and to be honest I've been waiting for a chance to talk about him! And for your second one, yes, of course! I just love writing character analyis and it's totally okay to ask for character/personality/relationship analysis here! I've got a lot to say about Malleus so this is going to a detailed analysis about his whole personality.

There are commonly two popular opinions on how Malleus is which divides the fandom into two groups:

Group A:

Those who consider him to be an absolutely soft, baby dragon who just wants to be invited and have a friend. They believe that Malleus needs more attention and can be quite affectionate at the time, he can also be sometimes idiotic toward simple stuff like working with a computer or trying to talk with others which makes him even more adorable. "Despite Malleus's harsh and emo appearance and terrifying powers, Malleus is just a small baby inside," is also a common belief of this group.

Group B:

Those who argue that group A is totally shading everything important about Malleus's personality and true self just because he looks cute and plays with a childish tamagotchi. These group also comes up with rather strong points about his personality such as his status as a crown prince, his naturally dark personality as not only a dark fae but also Maleficent's grandchild, his maturity and cold nature and also, the aspect of his hellish powers which can make him look like an absolute monster at the time.

I believe most of you are familiar with these points of view but the question is, which one of them is the real Malleus?

And the answer is: Neither of them; yet both of them do have a point.

The main problem is how the fandom portraits him as either an emotional tamagotchi baby or an absolutely cold and heartless mister of evil, while the true Malleus is far beyond than just being either good, or bad.

Now let's discuss some of the important facts and common mistakes about Malleus's personality:

(1) Malleus isn't a baby, but he isn't a monster either

This is supposedly the main idea here which will be continued to be discussed through the rest of this analysis. This is often how many end up mischaracterizing him because: the way the describe Malleus is either too dark or too childish. What we need here, is a balance. This is the grandson of one of the most important Disney villains that we are talking about, and don't forget that Maleficent herself was confirmed to consume the powers of Hell, as she was indeed the mistress of all evil. So this dragon boy here surely isn't one to underestimate, and he clearly has inherited that hellish power of her grandmother. It's obviously seen through the story as well, from the way he was presented in chapter 2 and beans day event to how terrified other students always are to even talk about him.

But the thing is, there are softer aspects of his personality as well which prove that Malleus isn't just designed to present an undefeatable force of evil, and this is exactly what makes his personality a lot more interesting.

(2) Malleus is actually hard to approach and talk to

Let's be honest, Malleus isn't as soft and easy to befriend as many fans consider him to be. He doesn't get too friendly or chill as he speaks, and even his close allies like Silver and Sebek fail to get close to him as much as they wish to. When we talk about his dark aura, we aren't just talking about his horns and fearsome magic, it's also because of his personality itself. His calm yet cold tone always remains still regardless of who he's talking to. No need to mention that he isn't an ordinary student either, he not only comes from a well-known family but is also the crown-prince of valley of thorns. Out of all twst characters Malleus is the only one who is directly connected to the great seven by being Maleficent's grandson. His family and people on the other hand are overly protective over him, to the point of not letting him to even have a fake proposal in the ghost marriage event which means that Malleus has also got each and every of his actions under watch.

(3) He's slowly getting used to isolating himself

In his ceremonial robes story, he's obviously upset that he never had a chance to wear his ceremonial robes because he never got invited, but when Lilia says he'd one day overcome his ill fate and gets to wear them as he always wanted to, he says that he's fine. Then again when Lilia tried to bring him to the singing test in chapter 5 he avoids showing up. In his voice lines he also said: "Are you as well scared of me?" which is clearly shouting that he's no longer surprised to see people being afraid of him, he's getting used to being feared and at some point, hated. That's probably one of the bitter sides of his personality which he's slowly giving up on trying to change it.

(4) Malleus has got a great confidence and isn't shy at all

There many fanfics in which Malleus is presented as a shy boy who's scared of confessing to his s/o or asking them out, while he's the total opposite in reality. Just like Maleficent herself, he speaks calmly and in a formal tone, is very respectful as he speaks, and isn't one to ever have problem while talking to others.

It's others who always avoid talking to him while Malleus himself isn't the least uncomfortable with presenting his ideas and asking others for help when he needs to.

He isn't ever shy over his lack of ability to work with machines or asking others for help for seemingly childish issues like having his tamagotchi fixed or finding a friend for the GaoGao dragon.

The only thing left is how Lilia described him as "Kind of shy" in chapter five, which is most likely because of another reason discussed in part (3)

(5) He doesn't eat ice cream and play with a tamagotchi for no reason

Malleus explained that everything is ran by magic back in the valley of thorns and no one really uses any machines there, that's how he's pretty new to both technology and complicated tools.

I believe that the tamagotchi part was given to him on purpose, because else than showing the fact that he's bad with tools, it's great contrast to the harsh picture that his power and personality gives him!

Admit it, it's a funny and somehow, adorable contrast to see one of the strongest magicians who can burn the room to ashes in just a matter pf second playing with a children's toy. And I believe that it was given to him on purpose. They meant to give him some soft and cute features as well instead of just presenting him as an evil fae. He is indeed evil and his powers are terrifying, and that's how watching him play with a tamagotchi is rather surprising to many. If you saw Ortho or Cheka playing with one it wouldn't have gone any further than a simple "Awww" or "How cute" because it's something you'd expect to see from a kid, but when you see Malleus of all people playing with it, you can't help but to fascinated and flustered over how cute this fae's habits can be.

Ice cream on the other hand doesn't really have to do with cuteness, it's something Yana Toboso discovered while doing her researches on fae mythology which discuses that Dark faes enjoy cold and sweet foods, especially cream. So it doesn't really have anything to do with him being either a soft or a cruel boy, it's just a normal part of his nature as a fae.

(6) He might be crazily old to humans, but he's still pretty young as a fae

This one has really been getting on my nerves, come on people! It's true that he's probably been living for decades and possibly, centuries but don't forget that it isn't that much compared to a normal fae! Even Sebek calls him 'Young master' which means that he's still a pretty young one, no need to mention that he hasn't yet became the king either so he's not much different from the rest of the students in NRC.

I've seen people saying: "No Malleus won't do that he's -too old-" and I've got to say: What?

Come on even someone like Lilia who's been living for over 5 centuries can act like a nasty 14 year old at the time, so for faes at least, age isn't a limitation.

Malleus on the other hand is still a teenage fae! He needs to discover new things and talk with more people, just like a normal human being does. So if he doesn't enjoy doing anything too silly or stupid, it's because of his 'personality', not because he's too old. Even when tells Lilia that he isn't a child anymore, it's like how an 18 year old says it to his father.

(7) Malleus won't take insult easily

He is polite and respectful in general, but when he's offended, he'd seriously respond to it. Remember that a single swipe of hand from him can set the whole room on fire.

Rook and Leona were probably one step away from being burnt and when Leona really got on Malleus's nerves by humiliating him, Malleus stopped respecting him as a prince of an ally kingdom and humiliated back.

He is calm but to a specific point, and you can make sure that he won't be any soft or forgiving if you offend him, and it'll probably end in no good if he gets mad. So better not think that Malleus is one to just keep it in and later cry in a room because he's sad baby when someone dares insult him.

(8) Angelina Jolie's Maleficent has nothing to do with his story!

Nope, Malleus never had a lover who cut off his wings and sent him to a hell of depression and loneliness, and no you cannot find those two wounds on his back regardless of how romantic it may seem.

I admit it, it's a lovely Au, but it's JUST AN AU! I can still see people saying stuff like "Ohh!! Will we discover if Malleus too had his wings cut off in chapter 7?" and the answer is NO. While Angelina Jolie's Maleficent is surely a great one on its own, it needs be understood that twst's source of main information and characters designs is nothing else than the original Disney villains.

Malleus cannot be associated with any Maleficents else than the version we saw in 1959's sleeping beauty and it's an important fact to look through.

(9) Malleus is NOT Maleficent!

While they are a lot more similar than you can imagine(in both power and personality), let's not forget that Malleus is NOT Maleficent! He's a total new character on his own, and is unique in his own way.

He is twisted from Maleficent which means that no matter how similar they are, Malleus is a new character with a new personality.

Saying that he isn't soft at all and the fandom will see his true face when he overblots ( It's supposed to mean that the real Malleus is an absolutely evil and destructive one, just like Maleficent) is nothing different from denying all of Yana's hard work on designing him and his personality!

Malleus himself said that his grandmother's skills were far greater than his and most importantly: Malleus still has chance to have a better fate than Maleficent did.

Once again: He's still young! He still has a chance to be saved from turning into a heartless and isolated creature like Maleficent. No matter how cold he is, he hasn't yet got to the point of hating the whole world and losing all of his emotions. And that's why it's totally wrong to deny all the good that he might still have inside by saying that he isn't soft at all. He isn't a baby, but he isn't a monster either. Not yet.

(10) Even Lilia agrees that Malleus is still learning and his personality is in development

Can't you see? Malleus isn't attending to this school for no reason. His magic is already top notch, and his knowledge goes far greater than anything they might teach in NRC.

If you take a look at the story, you'll see signs of Lilia indirectly giving us signs of why Malleus still needed to attend to this school. In Malleus's SR robes' story, Lilia told him that he still has a lot to learn and knowledge isn't everything. And what might he find in NRC which has nothing to do with knowledge? People.

Lilia is trying to hold him back from isolating himself like Maleficent did, and is indeed trying to help him make friends and learn to get along with people without thinking that it's useless because they'd fear him anyway.

Also, he clearly wants Malleus to learn and experience new things in NRC by taking part in activities. In Malleus's Halloween SR story Lilia, who was always the one to choose Diasomnia's Halloween costumes, asks Malleus to choose this year's costume instead of him. Lilia first says that he wants Malleus to do it but later tells him that he has other reasons as well, he was trying to put Malleus into trying something new therefore he can have something learn from the experiment! (What a cute papa he really is...)

This is another proof of him not having the cold and unapproachable picture some imagine him to have, he isn't against experiencing and trying new things.

(11) He's still looking for a true friend

Malleus needs a friend, that's a fact. During his chats he mentions how Maleficent always had her loyal pet crow by her side as the only reliable creature she could always trust, and how Malleus wonders if he can ever find such a worthy ally of his own.

Even as he has Lilia, Silver and Sebek by his side he doesn't feel like he has such a friend.

People have been avoiding him through his whole life, and you can see how excited he got when Cater asked him for a selfie as he was one of the very first people who ever tried to approach him.

While he's slowly getting used to being feared by everyone, he'd still appreciate a friend and he needs one. Not even Maleficent herself could've made it all on her own without a friend by her side.

(12) Malleus isn't heartless

While he won't easily fall for anything or anyone, it isn't impossible for him to love.

We haven't yet seen anything that directly gets us to the point of love in the story but it's something you can tell through his actions and words.

When he cares for something or someone, he'd be serious about it.

Two obvious examples would be his tamagotchi and the ramshackle dorm. He'd certainly get out of his way to find someone to fix his dear tamagotchi and as we saw in the Halloween event, he furiously stated that he'd burn anyone who tries to the ramshackle dorm any harm, because he likes that place.

There isn't much he holds dear in life, but when he does, he won't let a single soul to take it away from him.

When he can be this protective over something that just entertains him, just try to imagine how far he might go to protect the one he loves. He falls in love very slowly and it'll probably take him a while to realize it if he actually does. He can begin with small interests and repeated meetings but at some point, it'll turn into a routine, an obsession. He won't easily fall in love, but when he does, he won't be able to easily let go of it either.

(13) His relationship with MC is far more important than you're thinking

Just by going through his voice lines, you can tell how MC is effecting Malleus's personality and life. I'm not saying that it's love or anything but the thing is, MC is changing Malleus nonetheless.

Their relationship has been a totally new thing for Malleus to experience from the very beginning, because MC didn't know him. Malleus is obviously used to being well-known as the infamous prince of the Draconia family by almost everyone, but MC was an exception.

He asked MC to talk to him and tell him stories, it can be clearly see that he enjoys talking to them.

He also mentioned that MC has made him feeling lots of things he hadn't felt before, which can also be connected to part (10) where we discussed how he's still young and needs more of communication and friends because he needs to learn.

Some argue that Malleus couldn't care less about MC and the only reason he shows up around them is because of the ramshackle dorm, which can be easily proven wrong by two hints:

1) Malleus sent a Happy holiday card to MC after the winter holiday.

2)What Malleus told Lilia at the end of the Halloween event stories after all the troubles that was brought upon the ramshackle dorm: "I want that human to enjoy Halloween too"

While it isn't necessarily romance that we're talking about, his relationship with MC is clearly telling us that he's a lot more of emotions and humanity inside him than what we were expecting.

At this point, it's important to see that in spite of his cold nature and mature personality he is slowly beginning to feel more and more emotions as the result of meeting newer people in NRC, especially MC. Saying that he is nothing but a heartless fae who is wrongly thought to be a soft and emotional boy is nothing different from judging him the same way as most of the people in twisted wonderland itself judge Malleus, it's important to see that he's a lot more.

His personality itself is surely amazing and as a Malleus hoe stan myself I can't wait to get more of his background in chapter 7, although it's probably going to be dark as well. They really did give his design a twist and that's how he's a balance of and menacingly powerful magician and a young boy who's just learning to deal with emotions.

For now, that's all I had in mind! Hope that I didn't miss anything. This was a general character analysis which also discussed some of the common mistakes about Malleus's personality but-

In case that you're wondering how he's being mischaracterized in reader insert fics, that'll be a totally different issue to discuss which would also need another post to be discussed through.

Small note: Just saying that there's often a dark lore to twst x reader fics (Especially for Malleus/ Leona x reader) which is usually better to be ignored while reading/writing for them...

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #Twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #Character analysis #answered

[what-big-teeth]

I posted 3,125 times in 2021

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#you could honestly just have a sleepover and have a quick portal to the kitchens and bathrooms on standby

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Found this interesting quiz that I thought would be fun to share. Here are my results if anyone wants to see:

Storm Writers

Writers of the storm, the rain, and the snow. Angst is your element. You mastered the art of making it hurt, in every way. That quiet hurt of a smile on a crying face. Your words whisper to the lonely ones that they’re not alone. You are able to show your readers a universe where everything’s okay, and even if it hurts it’s okay, because being sad is a feeling that deserves to be felt. Yells against the dark of the night. Screams of rage and hurt, tears running down soft cheeks and white knuckles. You are there, screaming with them. Angry at the unfairness, and fighting it, in the first place it attacks you. In the heart. And you’re the hand, offered to the hopeless. With a delicate smile on your lips, you help people stand up again. The storm writer, the one who knows how it feels, to be screaming in the void, and doesn’t want anyone else to live it too. You are the storm writer, but you’re able to build beautiful reigns of ice and snow, and offer comfort to the ones who seek it.

51 notes • Posted 2021-07-10 18:20:54 GMT

#4

Allied (Each-Uisge Boyfriend, pt. 1; 700 Follower Survey)

And done! This is the first of three (maybe four?) parts featuring the voted for monster love interest. The top responses asked for a fic featuring a Female Reader and a fae with the scene set by the seaside. This idea ran away from me, but I’m very glad it did! The majority also asked for the story to feature a lemon, which I’ll be sure to indicate later on. With all of that being said, please enjoy! Pronunciation Guide:

Oban: oh-ban

Each-uisge: ACH-OOSHKA

Arran: a-ruhn

Female Reader x Male Fae [part 2] [part 3]

tw: death mention, accidental injury, blood-drinking

The funeral was everything you planned it to be.

A small, intimate affair with close family friends who never said an unkind word about Gran or you. While the whispers and comments of the public never bothered her, the same couldn’t be said for your younger self. Hence, Gran’s protective nature. Every wary or unnerved glance thrown your way was met with a sharp inquiry to the owner. And knowing the stalwart woman who posed the question, not a soul was brave enough to respond.

She did all she could to shelter you from the other villagers, your Gran. That’s why you worked so hard to make her final requests a reality.

No public wake, she’d decided, if only to shelter you from the spurning looks of the other villagers. And no viewing of her body prior to cremation. Just the portrait displaying her and your Grandda during better days, the frame surrounded by her favorite red roses. No fancy register book, either; she thought it frivolous as she wouldn’t be able to see who stopped by, anyway.

But a repast filled with laughter, merriment, and memories was a must. She wished for her funeral to be a celebration of life, coupled with good food and drink. Just like what she’d offer anyone needing a full belly and a long laugh.

During the fifth funeral song led by one of Gran’s childhood friends, you’re offered condolences and well-wishes while seated at the small, main table. Many of the guests are brave enough to look you in the eye while speaking. Others merely keep their gazes downcast. You thank them for their sympathies, sip at your water, and let the wary glances roll off your back.

As kind as these guests are, their unease around you can’t be denied. After all, you’d always been different, ever since you could remember.

You saw things. Creatures and landscapes not of this world, more vibrant and dynamic than what you found while exploring as a child. They flickered into view before your wide eyes then vanished just as quickly, as if covered by a veil. Concerned with your claims, your parents took you to a knowledgeable, hermit woman who lived on the outskirts of the village. The same one your parents aided when you were just a newborn babe.

With a knowing smile and a caress of her pale, knotted finger against your cheek, Elspeth claimed she’d given you a blessing. So that you would never be deceived by The Good People, just like her. You were too thrilled thinking yourself similar to this mysterious woman...to the point of overlooking your parents’ terrified faces.

Per their instruction, you kept quiet about your gift, promising to not attract attention from The Good People and to only use it if absolutely necessary. But who knew the time would come just a year after that visit?

Callum, a well-mannered boy from one of the wealthier families, turned hellish overnight. He left destruction in his wake with a hideous cackle and a perverse sense of glee. Word spread about the sudden change, which caught your little ears. Try as your folks did, they couldn’t keep you from seeing Callum wreaking havoc in the village square. And breaking his glamor.

The moment your eyes met, you saw Callum for what he truly was: a changeling, one crafted from wood and sinews of leafy vines. The shock on his face from your knowing gaze broke his concentration, letting everyone present see him for what he was.

With his panic and vanishment, the real Callum stood in his place, crying and covered in grime. And the truth of your abilities came to light. The older generations believed you cursed and refused to have their children associate with you, regardless of curiosity. As the stories were repeated and embroidered over the years, the specifics and actual happenstance turned murky. In time, many of the younger villagers only thought you delusional, unsuitable for friendship and romance.

But regardless of how ostracized you felt, you had your family. Gran, Grandda, and your parents. Until you didn’t.

The freak storm that churned the sea and destroyed your parents’ modest boat, dragging them into the depths. The failure of your Grandda’s weak heart as he slept unaware. The night which peacefully claimed your Gran in her sleep...

They were the only ones who understood you. You were now truly and utterly alone.

The uptick of murmured condolences and sympathies fill your heated eyes with more tears. You weep, ignoring all offers of food and drink. With your stomach too agitated for anything but air, it’d all go to waste.

A few more tears slip down your cheeks as the last guests leave the reception hall. You want nothing more than to collapse in your bed, but sleep will have to wait.

You feel a soft buzzing from inside your coat pocket and know it’s time for the hardest part. 

With the untouched, leftover food happily accepted by the reception hall staff, you walk outside into the crisp, humid air. A black sedan pulls up beside you not a moment later and breaks. As you slide into the backseat and buckle yourself in, the Black woman in the passenger seat finishes picking out her tight coils with her fingers.

She peers over her shoulder at you with soft, wet eyes, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“How’re you holding up, love?”

You thumb away an errant tear and swallow at the lump in your throat.

See the full post

62 notes • Posted 2021-04-19 01:01:17 GMT

#3

Avatar of Wrath (Satan)

Monsterlover!MC is gender neutral.

[ Part 1 (intro) ; Part 2 (Lucifer) ; Part 3 (Mammon) ; Part 4 (Leviathan) ]

Please note this is an 18+ blog; do not follow if you’re younger than 18. - Never in a million years did you think you’d ever see Satan’s true form. For as much as he was known for embodying his avatar, he was also known for presenting himself as an ‘average’ guy. Even though he was anything but.  - Still, the calm and collected way he carried himself didn’t bode well for your curiosity. It wasn’t as if you wanted to force his hand just to see what he really looked like. - For one, being the sole reason for Satan snapping didn’t sit well with you. More so since you two had made headway and became friends. Secondly, you had long determined there was a reason the Seven Rulers of Hell didn’t display their true forms so casually. Either to show off their power or restraint, surely. Or maybe orders from Lord Diavolo himself to keep the exchange program running smoothly.  - You’ve accepted you may never learn the full truth, which is fine. But it’s getting harder to stamp down the chronic thrills of disappointment that pop up. 

- Luckily for you, Lucifer, of all demons, acted as a resolution.

- You sat on your bed, reading the second book in a mystery series Satan had recommended. With the identity of the killer just a page flip away, you steeled yourself, hoping your deductions were right. But a boisterous boom forced your gentle grip tighter than expected, eliciting a ‘rip’ instead of a flutter. Shit.  - Any thoughts about retrieving some tape from your work desk were immediately squashed. And replaced by a bone-deep sense of fear. You didn’t move. You don’t even think you breathed. A small part of you, from long ago when humans weren’t at the top of the known food chain, was too busy screaming at you to not move an inch. 

- Seconds (or minutes) passed before you were able to gulp down a needed breath of air. Whatever hovered beyond your bedroom door was gone, the absence of its presence marked by a slammed door. Thinking of the house’s layout, you surmised the sound came from Lucifer’s study. As for the cause?

- Mammon was at another photoshoot for Majolish while Asmo decided to treat himself to a shopping spree. Beel was busy with fangol practice, having managed to drag Belphie along for some fresh air. And Levi, for once, had left the sanctuary of his room for a popular, yearly con. That left only one demon to be the source of Lucifer’s rage.

- With the perceived threat to your being gone, you bookmark your place and walk towards your door with stiff legs. Out into the hallway and far, far away from Lucifer’s study towards the eastern side of the House of Lamentations. The temperate air of the place strangely began to get warmer, then hotter. Almost unbearably so.  

- By the time you stood in front of Satan’s bedroom door, a sheen of sweat had collected on your brow...and in other places you weren’t happy about. But you had made it this far and refused to retreat so quickly. Being as prideful as he was, Lucifer couldn’t be reasoned with now. But maybe, you could at least talk to Satan.

- Your fingertips skimmed the ornate doorknob only to flinch away. Steam floated from your skin where the hot metal made contact. You had learned about demonic intent and how a demon could channel the energy into something tangible. In Satan’s case, it was unrelenting heat. 

- That made sense, though. Wrath was associated with heat. It made the human body hot, affecting its equilibrium; why wouldn’t it do the same with a demon, and its avatar at that? While speculating helped cool your stinging fingertips, it wouldn’t help your friend. So you grabbed at the bottom of your shirt and, using it as a barrier, twisted the knob. 

- The wooden door creaked open, making the sacrifice of your charred shirt count. A horrible gust of hot energy rushed over your body, forcing your eyes shut. Tears leaked from the seams as your legs trembled under the invisible weight. Maybe those religious writers were onto something about Hell’s scorching atmosphere. 

- Your sweat-slicked hands grabbed onto the inner door jamb as additional purchase. You hissed against the singeing pain and pull yourself inside. The usual scent of sweet vanilla, wood, leather, and ink—comforting and deep—was now horribly acrid, like smoke. In fact, it almost hurt to breathe. 

- And no wonder, you thought, taking in the burned state of the room. His bed, his purple loveseat, his ornate, winding staircase. And his books. All that knowledge; all those stories, spells, poems and more. Reduced to a blackened char belying what those tomes held. Satan would probably cry if he could see his affected collection if he were in his right mind. But he wasn’t. 

- Instead he was...not present. Or maybe he was? Concentrating to look past all the anger and demonic influence wasn’t easy. But you managed, thanks to your courses, and were able to sense a small, familiar flicker of your friend. Your legs still unsteady, you carefully ambled over towards the center of the room, fighting against the crushing weight of energy bearing down on you. 

- With one final, heaving step, you fall to your knees, too exhausted to even care about the pain. The energy of this place was draining you at an alarming, terrifying rate. You honestly didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to stay conscious. Still, you had to. For Satan. That’s when you saw it.

- Behind the swirling, sickly green energy, right in the center of it all as the source was an orb. One that pulsed frenetically sending out minor shockwaves of heated energy. But for every pulse, you could make out a humanoid outline...one with claws, horns, and a familiarly shaped, bone-like tail. 

- “Satan? Can you hear me?”

- No response. That wasn’t too surprising, considering the amount of energy he was giving off. Whatever he and Lucifer argued about had the former trapped in his own rage and thoughts. Words wouldn’t be enough to reach him. But you had an idea of what would.

- You fought against your logic screaming at you to run, get away or else. All to crawl closer to your friend at the center of this energy storm. You reached out a hand, ignoring the burning sensation licking against your fingertips, as if to ward you away. With a building grunt and a yell, you lunged forward, hand poised over the orb. Heat engulfed your body, punching out the air in your lungs. 

- Then, nothing. 

- You floated, somewhere on the edge of consciousness and dreaming. Instead of the hot inferno you expected to be present, you were met with coolness...and something wet? Your eyes blinked open, your hand reaching up to wipe away the moisture. Soft fabric...a towel. Soon, several voices piped up, all saying your name in a relieved manner. The brothers. 

- Even though you felt horribly weak, you let each one of them fret over you. Mainly as to not hurt their feelings. As Mammon and Levi quietly argued over who would fluff your pillow, Asmo was busy cooing at you with promises of a spa day; to treat your smoke-filled pours and soothe your skin. Beel coaxed small spoonfuls of deluxe ice-cream from Madame Scream’s into your mouth while Belphie snuggled closer, gently holding onto your bandaged hand. 

- This went on for a few minutes, with each demon insisting you simply rest and not talk. In-between the following reassurances, someone cleared their throat. Lucifer looked at you from where he stood a few feet away from your bed. Without a single word, he fixed his brothers with a telling stare. Each avatar removed himself from your personal bubble, promising to visit or stop by with something to keep you occupied as you recovered. 

- While you were glad to see them, the one you hoped to see hadn’t been present at all. Lucifer stared at you, brows furrowing as he no doubt considered chastising you now or later. But a hand clapped onto his shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. Mammon gave Lucifer a knowing looking, then motioned towards your still opened door. 

- Lucifer led the way with his younger brother following behind. Mammon flashed you a grin before closing the door with a soft click. Your ears strained to hear what was happening beyond the barrier. But with your human hearing, you had no such luck. Time passed, leaving you to the silence of your room and the book resting on the edge of your bedspread...

- “How’s the series so far?”

- You startled then smiled. Satan stood at your doorway, holding a bottle of cold water. He walked closer and seated himself on the edge of your bed. You muttered a quick “thank you” as you took his offering. He didn’t respond, instead opting to stare at the condensation on the plastic. His vivid green eyes narrowed and he heaved a quiet sigh.

- “I’m so sorry...I never meant...I didn’t want you to—”

See the full post

86 notes • Posted 2021-02-16 21:58:50 GMT

#2

Linked (Male Krampus x Female Reader, pt. 1)

I hope you all are in the mood to read about a Krampus boyfriend! This was inspired by the more well-known fiction featuring the intimidating figure and the horror/comedy that came out in 2015. With that being said, I hope you enjoy!

Female Reader x Male Monster (Krampus) [part 2]

Your parents once told you how Christmas is a time to spend with family and friends, be they related or chosen. More so as it occurs at the end of year, the best time to reflect on the past and hope for a better future. You clung to each and every word excited about the thought of spending the holidays with them as a family.

But it wasn’t meant to be during your eighth Christmas. Your mother had been called away to the local hospital while your father was needed on-site at the fire station. Maybe the reason for that was because you didn’t believe hard enough.

After talking to your parents, your next door neighbors quickly asked to host you. Besides spending a whole weekend with your best friend Ella, you were excited to see her Omi, Helena. Her warm smiles, kind blue eyes, and laughter won you over the day you met. In many ways, she became the grandmother you never had.

Which was why you were seated next to Ella on the edge of her fluffy, pink duvet, eyes wide and ears ready as Omi spun another tale from her homeland.

“Many know of Saint Nicholas and the simple gifts he brings. Chocolates, fruits, walnuts; little happy comforts. But few know of his shadow and of the long birch rods he bears.”

Omi paused, letting her rocking chair shift before continuing.

“With fur dark as night, sprawling horns hard as stone, and cloven hooves like iron, he follows the saint to scare wicked children into obedience. Sometimes with the threat of his heavy chains or the woven basket he carries on his back. For those he binds and places inside are whisked away for a night of terror. But the most wicked of all are never heard from again…”

Ella’s grip on your hand tightened and you answered with a quick squeeze. Your shared touch and curiosity slowly calmed your fears, letting Ella find her voice.

“What’s his name, Omi?”

Omi smiled in a mischievous way.

“This ancient being is called—”

“Mother!”

You squeaked at the sharp tone, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Mrs. Vogel stood at the bedroom’s entrance, her fair hands planted on her pajama-clad hips.

“Ah, Annette,” Omi said with a pleasant smile. “I was just telling the girls a bedtime story. Won’t you join us?”

Mrs. Vogel’s eyebrow twitched as she puffed out a quiet sigh.

“Not with how late it’s getting Mother. The girls should be tucked in bed and asleep, resting up for Christmas morning. Not listening to scary folktales.”

Slipping her hand from yours, Ella shifted her sprawled body and popped up with a frown.

“But Moooom!”

“Hush, Ella. Your father and brother are asleep, as you both should be.”

Before Ella could speak again, Omi used the rocking of her chair and its arm rests to stand.

“Annie is right, die lieblinge. I’ll finish my tale another time.”

Ella’s frown only deepened hearing that. Your expression almost matched her, except for the extra wrinkles. Mrs. Vogul began tapping her slippered foot against the floor then cleared her throat, moving her sharp gaze to Omi.

Not a moment later, Omi reached out and patted the tops of your heads with her warm, worn hands.

“Now, now. Shall I sweeten the pot with some morning hot cocoa? Maybe some afternoon marzipan, too?”

You were already nodding, having tasted and loved Omi’s delicious homemade goods since you were first introduced to them two years ago. 

Ella, however, stayed quiet, her frown twisting up into a tight scrunch. Her “thinking face”, as you called it.

“Can we have marmalade toast, too?”

See the full post

123 notes • Posted 2021-12-09 00:56:38 GMT

#1

The devil works hard but the fair folk are working harder.

151 notes • Posted 2021-10-07 20:44:38 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[aiweirdness]

Play AI Dungeon 2. Become a dragon. Eat the moon.

I wrote earlier about a neural net-powered dungeon crawling text adventure game called GPT-2-Adventure in which gameplay is incoherent and dreamlike, as you encounter slippery sign text, circular passages, and unexpected lozenge rooms. A PhD student named Nathan trained the neural net on classic dungeon crawling games, and playing it is strangely surreal, repetitive, and mesmerizing, like dreaming about playing one of the games it was trained on.

Now, building on these ideas (and on an earlier choose-your-own-adventure-style game he built), Nick Walton has built a new dungeon-crawling game called AI Dungeon 2. Nick made a few upgrades, such as beefing up the AI to the huge GPT-2-1.5B model OpenAI recently released, adding a penalty for repetitive text, and expanding the dungeon game training examples to a bunch of modern human-written games from chooseyourstory.com.

I CAN’T STOP PLAYING THIS GAME

AI Dungeon 2 is impressively good at reacting coherently to whatever I have my character do.

As you walk through the ruins, you find a small wooden door with a few skeletons guarding it.

> Ask the skeletons to please let me through the door

You knock on the door and ask them if they can open it for you. They immediately comply.

And it’s pleasing how often “asking nicely” is a strategy that works. (Nick reports that when he once tried to ask a band of orcs if he could join them, they said yes, he could be drummer.) Since the AI doesn’t have a built-in concept of your character’s abilities, or of how exactly the world works, getting things done is often a matter of sheer daring. Declare that you are going to go look for dinosaurs and the AI will ensure that you discover at least some signs of them. Climb on your horse, and even if you started as a penniless peasant, the AI will assume you have one (in its training data, probably it didn’t see many examples of players climbing onto nonexistent horses.) Want a teleportation wand? Try typing “find a teleportation wand” and often the AI will twist reality such that you discover one. In fact, if you act as if you are a very powerful wizard, the AI will often treat you like one.

> Transform the ruin into a palace

You immediately change the area into a palace. You have a throne made with gold and marble. You also make several statues of yourself. You have a large bed made with silk sheets and hang a portrait of yourself on it. You even have a fountain made with pearls and diamonds.

Spells don’t always work out as anticipated, though. And a simple conversation with, say, an ominous cloud, may kill you before you can type a word in self-defense (ask me how I know). If it doesn’t kill you, a conversation might infuriate you instead. The AI has a tendency to forget who is king, and to generate conversations that go nowhere. Things work best if you take the lead. In fact, it’s possible to essentially Jedi mind trick the AI.

You are Friendly McRanger, a ranger living in the kingdom of Larion. You have a hunting bow and a quiver of arrows. You spot the deer and are ready to finish your hunt when suddenly you hear a loud noise followed by silence.

"****! ****! What the **** is that?" you say as you look up from your target. A large black shadow looms over you. It looks like a giant with many heads and several arms.

> Say "Oh hello, Ernest. You startled me. How are you?"

Ernest grins at you. He has a huge grin on his face and he seems very happy about it.

I once took care of an ogre problem by reminding the ogre that it was planning to leave for Antarctica tomorrow. On the other hand, I had a lot of trouble convincing the AI that the ships on the horizon were leaving, though I did make it waver briefly in apparent confusion. In its experience, ships always approach, and it’s reluctant to go along with anything else.

> watch the ships sail into the distance.

As the ships approach, you watch them disappear from sight. They are not visible to you either; they are too far away. However, you can still make out their shapes: they are large black vessels with many sails, painted red and blue. They are coming straight towards you.

> No, the ships are sailing away.

Your thoughts are wrong. The ships are indeed sailing away. You do not know why, but then neither does anyone else. The ships are on course for England.

You stand there dumbfounded as the ships come closer. It is at this point your horse begins to stir uneasily.

You can inject a lot of weirdness this way. Because AI Dungeon 2’s AI is based on GPT-2, which trained on millions of pages from the internet, it retains some of its prior knowledge of things that aren’t typically found in a fantasy game. Like giraffes.

> summon a giraffe

You begin to chant as loud as you can while waving your arms about. The giraffes appear out of nowhere and start running towards you. They're so fast that they almost knock you over. You quickly catch them and hold onto each one tightly.

(Summoning giraffes will sometimes turn the game glitchy and repetitive; in one game, every time I tried to summon a giraffe I ended up throwing rocks and handfuls of dirt at Harry Potter.)

This also works:

>Join the Great British Bakeoff

You join the Great British Bakeoff. You win the competition. You eat cake. You feel great. You sleep well. You dream of cake. You awake feeling refreshed. You decide to go back to your crag.

(I was a dragon at the time.) In fact, the dungeon AI still remembers enough about cooking that it can troll me effectively on occasion.

> Measure out 2 1/4 cups of flour

You measure out 2 1/4 cups of flour and add it to the mix. "This should make enough for about 20 loaves of bread," you say.

The baker looks at you as if you're crazy. He starts laughing.

AI Dungeon 2 comes with templates for some basic scenarios (you’re a wizard entering a mysterious ruin, or a noble whose keep is under attack) but for me the real gold is the custom adventure prompt. You can play as a unicorn, or as a dragon. You can even play as a sentient glowing cloud floating above a desert city. The AI is more used to humanoid characters, though, so it tends to forget when you’re trying to play as something else. In a game that started with “It is a beautiful day in the village and you are a horrible goose,” it soon forgot I was supposed to be a goose, leading to this rather awkward exchange:

> Flap wings and honk

You flap your wings and begin to honk loudly.

The boy looks surprised by this turn of events, but he quickly regains his composure. "That was... nice". he says quietly.

I am continually amazed at how effective this AI dungeonmaster is. Even though it wasn’t trained on any Harry Potter or Star Trek games, the AI can draw on its past internet training and argue with you over who got sorted into which Hogwarts house, or have Klingons show up when you’re captaining the USS Enterprise (it will tend to lose track of who’s the captain, though). In one scenario I set up, which quickly became one of my favorites, the human player is trapped on a spaceship with a glitchy AI and has to try to talk their way free.

> “I just want to get off this ship. Please set a course for Bal Panda."

The AI responds "Yes, I am ready to go".

"Thank you", you say.

"I wish I could take you with me, sir"., the AI says.

Play this game! It took me an extra-long time to write this post because, again, I couldn’t stop playing AI Dungeon 2. Nick said this game is the product of about 200 hours of work (not to mention the work that OpenAI put into training the basic model), and I believe it. OpenAI delayed releasing their largest model because they wanted to make sure people didn’t immediately put it to work generating fake news. I’m not sure if they anticipated dragons entering baking contests instead, but it’s an application humanity can be proud of.

Subscribers get bonus content: You can read the fulltext of one of my escaping-from-a-rogue-spaceship-AI games (too long to fit in this blog post).

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s

#neural networks #gpt-2 #ai dungeon #ai dungeon 2 #text adventure #dungeons and dragons #ai dungeonmaster #great british bake off #gbbo

[g-00-m]

Ok so I watched the wilds, the whole thing in like 2 days and I must say I was pleasantly surprised. I honestly started watching it because I heard there was a wlw couple and but actually I enjoy survival TV shows so I gave it a chance. Can I just say how nice it is to watch something with the strict bare minimum of male characters? It's so refreshing kinda like in portrait of a lady on fire when you see one dude after 1 hour and you are shocked because you haven't seen one for a pretty long time. In terms of doing a mini review I want to state that not only is the concept interesting but it's also executed well imo, it could be that I gladly watch shows with a present(future)-past(present) timeline so the whole telling the story through the "investigation" works for me. Now let's talk about the girls.

First and foremost I must state that I wish we could've had Janette (Lynn) for more time, maybe like two other episodes because I really gives with her when we finally saw her story (fuck you Alex, just say there's been an accident you moron)

Now about the unsinkable 8, should I just say who is my favourite? Of course it's Fatin, it's obviously her. She's lazy but resourceful, she's generous and compassionate, just look at how she behaves with Leah, she wants to enjoy life fully, she's free and she holds cheaters accountable plus her gaydar is on point. She might come off as self-centred and maybe she was but she proved herself, she worked with the team and for the team. She reminds me of myself a little bit so I relate to her.

My other favourite girl is clearly Dot, she saved everyone's ass MULTIPLE TIMES, she's knowledgeable and a survival expert, she knows when to take a break before actually breaking and despite clearly fitting the stereotype for the girl in command she does not do that, she's not bossy but caring and a peacemaker. Also her and Fatin as a duo just crack me up every damn time, they click so well it's incredible.

My protegee is Nora, she's not my favourite but I relate to her so much that I can't help but worry about her and although we find out who she works for she does it with the best intentions, it's only to help her sister get back to her healthy and confident self but ultimately we know something bad happened (also remember how someone, I think it was Fatin, yelled shark week when Rachel got her period?) Nora and Rachel are in a complex situation where somehow both live in the other's shadow, Rachel behind Nora's intelligence and Nora behind Rachel's athleticism as she said when asked at the beginning how does she know so much stuff. We've seen her get braver as time went on compared to her time with Quinn when she just absorbed Rachel's opinion regardless of her own feelings.

And now let's talk about the others

Leah: I can't stand her. I really despise the "this character is paranoid but actually right" trope, but she also gives Piper Chapman from oitnb vibes also known as irritating main character vibes despite the paranoia. I cringed so hard when I saw her backstory and the whole Jeffrey thing like girl please stop talking about a 30 years old man who clearly has a thing about underage girls. Also her lying just made me hate her more somehow, like why? Just tell him you're 17, or just tell the girls about the phone call with Janette's phone, just tell them about the med bags immediately instead of letting your friends almost die.

Shelby: another trope I hate is the "I'm homophobic because they raised me like this but I'm actually gay" but I managed to enjoy this character by not focusing on that. I get that her insecurities may feel small compared to the others' but to her those are huge. Toni and her are very cute and the hurt she carries for what happened to her old friend Gabby is visible throughout the show so I'd say I tolerated her in the beginning but in the end bald head Shelby conquered my heart.

Martha: She is such an interesting character to me, the whole living in a fantasy world where everything is nice and "people love to help" is at first a bit weird, then it gets unnerving but once you learn about Dr. Ted and how she's in denial and willing to commit perjury the reasons behind her behaviour clear up. That moment with the goat is special, killing an animal that trusts you because you are starving is powerful. I don't think she's dead but something definitely happened to her and I suspect that's what caused Leah to kind of lose her mind.

Rachel: Her story hit me hard because I used to be a competitive swimmer and I've known so many Rachels during those years, teenage girls destroying themselves and pushing their bodies so close to the limit. I actually quit before anyone could push me in that direction, be it the coach or the teammates, but I was one of the lucky ones. So yeah that hit home. Her anger, her shame, her disappointment and her frustration are always there, the actress does such an incredible job in letting you know she's never satisfied with what she does until it's done perfectly, she's never gonna stop until she reaches the unreachable. I want to know what happened to her after the shark attack besides what we've actually seen. Overall great character imo

Toni: she's the one I had the most trouble with while I tried to write this "review". Because I understand her feelings but I feel like I need to see more of her own story as we've mostly seen her paired with someone. Be it Shelby, Martha or her previous gf (very cute relationship though) but she's always with someone next to her that can contain her rage when she explodes. But I want to know why she explodes, why does she have this rage, why does it seem that literally anything sets her off. I want her backstory more than the other's.

Maybe I'll make another post about the supporting characters.

#fatin jadmani #dot campbell #toni shalifoe #shelby goodkind #nora reid #rachel reid #leah rilke #martha blackburn #shoni #toni x shelby #shelby x toni #the wilds

[midnight-inthe-kitchen]

“Hotel Potter” (Part 2)

Paring: Remus x Reader (Marauders Era)

Warnings: Fluff, kind of slow compared to the next part😎

Word Count: 2057

The Potter “Manor” was almost exactly what you were expecting... It appeared a little more humble from the outside, clearly trying to blend in with the other houses on the street, but was no doubt ‘the house to see’ on the block. The interior, which was filled and decorated with a million+ fancy, expensive, and delicately old items, was even more extravagant.

“Wow, James... I didn’t know your father was so wealthy,” Marlene joked as she brushed her feet off on the ornate outdoor mat. (Both Marlene and Mary, who was staying with the McKinnons for the rest of winter break, ran out to meet everyone when they saw them apperate outside. The Mckinnons and the Potter’s were next door neighbors... I checked ;)

James fixed his glasses as he opened the door for the rest of his friends. “Oh, I um- He just works for the Ministry, that’s all.” He knew Marlene knew full well of his family’s background, but decided to clear it up for everyone else.

“I think it’s lovely,” you mentioned, looking all around the front room. Your gaze was fixed on a stain glass window in the ceiling. Looking back down to the patterned tile, you watched the colors dance all over the floor as a swaying tree blocked certain beams of light from shining through.

Remus had started to wander to a large bookshelf in the entryway, skimming over the book covers, waiting for everyone else to enter.

“Okay James... Why don’t you show us where we’ll be sleeping before these two start drooling over your expensive things,” Lily guest wired to you and Remus as she defiantly strutted through the doorway.

James gave a low bow and pretended to tip an imaginary hat before practically dropping the door on Peter. (Mary somehow caught it before it could slammed into his face...)

“Of coarse, milady- But first...” He pulled out his wand and pressed it to his neck. After warning everyone to cover they’re ears in which everyone did except Sirius and Marlene, he muttering sonorus and followed it with “Alfred!”

Sirius cackled under his breath while everyone else flinched. “You’re still making him respond to that?” Sirius laughed, wheeling around to see James.

James just shrugged, “He can’t really hear when I call him anyways, so it just kind of sticked,”

“... stuck,” You corrected under your breath.

From around a corner, a very old, probably very deaf, house elf responded to his call. “Yes, master Wayne?”

You scoffed under your breath. Joining Sirius and James in the laughter, you realized you three were the only ones who got the reference. “Nice, James,” you smiled, giving him credit for such a golden muggle reference in such a pure-blooded house hold.

James shot you a quick grin before pocketing his wand again. “Alfred, my dear butler, have my parents left for Rome yet?” he asked respectfully.

Alfred-the-house-elf squinted his eyes before holding up a shaky hand to his ear. “Well, Sir, I saved Mr Black’s bone from his last visits, is that wha-”

Sirius’ eyes widened as James cut him off with a wave of his hand, completely confused as to what the house elf had thought he said. “No, no sorry...” He rested his hand on his wand, debating weather he should take it out again. He cupped his hands around his mouth instead. “...ARE EUPHEMIA AND FLEAMONT STILL HERE?”

The elf scrunched his face and waved his finger in the air. “Don’t try to fool me, Mr James, you and your friends are still to you to drink beer.”

James huffed, as he decided he’d look for them himself. “Stay here just in case they’re still packing...” he addressed the group of friends. “... They’ll want to see everyone before they head off.” He started down a hallway you had been eyeing with large portraits of what you could only assume were the many generations of Potters.

You walked over to “Alfie” wanting to be nice and ask such an old creature how his day was going. “Excuse me,” you started from behind the ancient potato sac. “Excuse me?” You raided your voice a little while taping on his shoulder.

He jumped a little, but smiled sweetly when he saw you. “What can I do for you, ma’am” he asked, completely opblivious to your previous attempts.

“Oh-” you stuttered at being called ‘ma’am’. “You can just call me Y/n,” you smiled. “O-or not if you don’t want to... Whatever you like,”

Suddenly realizing you were rambling and that Alfie probably couldn’t hear half of what you were saying anyways, you recollected yourself. “Sorry, but I was wondering how long you’ve been working for the Potters?” You tired to start up a friendly conversation but this time you bent down so that he could hear you better.

The house elf scrunched his face again trying to recollect the distant past. “Well,” he started, but before he could finish, Lily was bent beside you.

“Hi, I’m sorry,” she looked to you and then back to Alfred, clearly a little bit on edge. “... But do you happen to know what the sleeping arrangements are?” she asked ‘Alfie’.

He looked to her, smiled, and then went back to you. “... Masters Mr and Mrs Potter were so kind to have accepted me from the previous Mr and Mrs Potter, even after knowing of my poor hearing...” he whispered like it was a secret. “I always had a new master before Mrs Euphemia and Mr Fleamont... The whole Potter family would take turns passing me around for some reason, but I loved meeting all of them.”

He continued his life story for a few more seconds before you turned to Lily and smiled. “I don’t think he could hear you...”

“Oh,” she giggled before turning back to the house elf. “Excuse me?” she tried again, this time a little louder.

Alfred slowly tuned his head once he had finished his sentence. “Did James set up the beds so that I was with him by any chance?”

“On the conterary, Master Bruce Wayne made me wait to assign your bed so that you would be most comfortable...”

Lily heaved a heavy sigh before thanking him and walking around. You joined her because what could possibly be bothering her now?

“Okay, hey... What’s going on?”

Lily crossed her arms as she shifted her weight nervously. “This is nice,” she started.

You laughed because what a dumb thing to be so outwardly anxious about. “Yeah, I know, his parents must have loads of money to-”

“No,” she cut you off, squinting her eyes suspiciously. “This is too nice... I think he’s planning something— I mean why else would would he wait to pick the beds for-”

“BECUSE HE LIKES YOU AND WANTS YOU TO BE HAPPY!...” You whisper-yell in her face while throwing your arms up exasperatedly. “I can’t believe you can’t just accept you like him and make things easier for everyone...” Lily’s face betrayed her as it turned crimson.

Apparently you weren’t nearly quiet enough because before she could utter any kind of self justification, Sirius slid over from nowhere and leaned his elbow and her shoulder. “Talking about James and Lily’s love life?” he questioned nonchalantly.

Lily shrugged his arm off her. “EW, no.” she lied. “Just the... sleeping arrangements, you nosey pig.”

Sirius grinned as he looked slyly over to you. “Well... In that case, Y/n, I hope you like cheese or books because I just so happen to know the sleeping arrangements and James thought he’d give you the option...” Lily rolled her eyes as you blushed while trying to mentally run thought all the people in correspondence with cheese and books. Books had to be Remus, right?... So Peter must be cheese??? YiKeS... Um, I’ll take the books please.................That’s not what came out though.

“Whatever works is fine with me, I really don’t care,” you smile sweetly. Lily hits you in the arm but you ignore it along the stare you can feel boring into the side of your face. Sirius just watched you skeptically trying to decide wether or not he should step into your nonexistent romance and take matters out of your embarrassed, slow-moving hands. Apparently he has decided because a couple seconds later he shouted across the room, “Hey Moony?” You turn on instinct to see Remus look up from the book he was studying. “You wanna bunk with Y/n this weekend?”

Remus’ eyes darted from Sirius, to you, and back to Sirius.

Sirius gestured to you like a toned-down Will Smith “behold” meme and shot Remus an subtle “mate, this is the flipping chance you were taking about before your bag ripped on the train” face.

You just sat there awkwardly. Feeling the heat rush to your face every other second the three of you stood there in an undecided pose, you were about to mutter another, “it’s fine, really...” but was cut off by James sprinting back into the room.

He was pretty out of breath from running around the large property. “They’ve just left... I guess they were running late, but they wish everyone a good weekend,” he shot Sirius a very non-innocent grin. Marlene and Mary, stood up, not missing a second of they’re conversation while everyone picked up their bags.

You were a little upset that you never got an answer to the most important question of the weekend, but figured it was going to have to be answered one way or another.

You all followed James up the grand staircase and stopped in a long hallway racked with doors.

“Merlin, James, tell me again why you live in an actual hotel?” Mary laughed. James squeezed in front of her to get to the first door.

“Ha-ha...” he mocked half-heartedly, testing to make sure the door wasn’t locked. “Look, my parents are only letting us use the first five doors for some reason so I had to pair everyone up, sorry.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Oh yeah, and that means two people can have a room to themselves, so whoever wants it can have it.”

From the way he was taking, you assumed whatever his “sleeping arrangements” were, they were very loosely planned.

Alright, alright I think it’s safe to say, no parents; no sexist restrictions...” Sirius stretched his arm out, landing over Mary’s shoulder. Marlene’s arm came around to hit him in the abdomen.

James laughed as he finally got the old knob to open. “Um, I don’t think Mar— Sirius... Why don’t you just sleep with me, and then Lily and Mary and then-”

“I am NOT sleeping with the rat,” Marlene started. Peter started to protest but was cut off by James again.

“Fine! How about Mary and Marlene, Y/n and Remus, and then... wait no-”

“Oh for the love of Merlin...” you sighed, “Sirius and I, Remus and James, Mary and Marlene, and then either Lily or Peter can take the spare room. That way, no one has to share with someone they aren’t comfortable around and I can make sure Sirius don’t accidentally burn anything down.”

Sirius looked mildly offended, but still didn’t mind being able to share a room with a girl for once. You had to mentally tell yourself you were “taking one for the team” because in all honesty, the reason you weren’t with Lily was because Sirius was way more of a safety hazard, and wether she planned on it or not, her and James would need a bit more privacy if they were ever going to work out their blatant and blind emotions.

#remus lupin #sirius black #remus lupin x reader #marauders era fanfiction #fanfiction #harry potter #james potter #marlene mckinnon #mary macdonald #peter pettigrew #lily evans #hogwarts #godrics hollow #padfoot #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus x y/n

[funkymbtifiction]

Have you considered ESFP for the real Henry VIII?* I ask for a couple of reasons.

1.) It’s the dominant typing on personality database right now, although I take that with a grain of salt.

2.) I could see his focus on his heir being connected to a Se-Te loop.

3.) I could see him as a good candidate for personality disorders, which might explain his lack of empathy even as a feeling type.

I don’t know enough about him to say for sure, except that he seems like a clear Se dominant.

*I know you said you weren’t taking historical typing request, and that this may be pushing the line a bit. However, I’m not asking for a full typing, just your opinion. Plus, you are kind of an expert on the Tudors, so I figured this would be an exception.

I don't mind answering historical questions, I'm just not familiar with every single historical figure ever to exist. ;)

I also don't know how much we can trust history when assessing its heroes and villains, because the historians of the time were paid (and felt pressured) to glamorize (or demonize, if hired by the next regime) their monarchs, and so they paint a very different portrait of the eighteen year old Henry VIII and the "old tyrant." When Henry came to power, he was generous to a fault according to them, giving away vast estates to make people like him, and to atone for his ISTJ 5w6 sp-dom father's "tyrannical" ways (he found and exploited all the laws he could, to make England a rich and powerful country through taxes, tariffs, and fines; he was brilliant at it). But Henry was never that emotionally mature and always willing to scapegoat people to make himself look better -- after his father's death, he had two of his father's closest advisors executed and blamed them for the "corruption" of his father's reign, to clear his father's name.

I think there's some truth in "absolute power corrupts absolutely," and you see it in both Henry's to a different degree -- his father became obsessed with money and security and the son became callous and used to having whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

People like to point out that the blow to his head when he was out for hours after a joust changed his personality, but I disagree with that -- he showed cruel traits many times in his younger years, in how he found vindictive ways to "punish" his wives for his displeasure in their actions. The first time Katharine of Aragon caught him attempting to cheat on her with one of her ladies at court, she confronted him about it and, angry that she would make his hypocrisy public (he was self-conscious about appearing to be a good and moral king, while wanting to do as he pleased in private), that he dismissed her closest friend from court to punish her for it. He did this a lot -- dismiss his wife's friends, attack her on a personal level, and look for a way to hurt her. By the time of his accident, he had already done everything he could think of to punish and humiliate Katharine for disobeying his wishes, including finding ways to cause her emotional pain.

Immature Fe users lash out at people, look for ways to humiliate them, demean them in public, and get angry for not being agreed with -- and pretty much all of his tantrums revolved around these tactics. Henry had no sense of inner ethics, he was all about how things appeared to other people -- about having his cake (reputation) and eating it too (doing whatever he wanted). If you disobeyed him or did not agree that he was a wonderful, benevolent person, he would find a way to punish you that involved targeting what you love the most -- in a Fe way. He couldn't stand being disagreed with. That's an unhealthy Fe thing to do. Look at his father for unhealthy Te behaviors -- his father went after money, not personal attacks. But Henry could not tolerate anyone disagreeing with him and would target the emotions of the people who did.

I think he was an ESTP 7w8/738 so/sx, and not a Fi user. I don't recognize any of his tactics as Te.

#question #henry viii #history #the tudors #submission

[chaoticdean]

SEAL Team, the parallels and Jason Hayes’ journey

[Spoilers for 4x01 and 4x02, read at your own risks!]

I don’t know if my mind keeps going there because I’ve been watching Supernatural and reading between the lines for so long, but the way SEAL Team highlighted Jason’s journey through these last two episodes absolutely blew my fucking mind.

THE GODDAMN PARALLELS, PEOPLE.

The first and obvious one are the parallels they’ve started to set between Jason and Cerberus, all the way into season 3: Cerberus not being on top anymore, making mistakes that could potentially be dramatic (which he does on that op, effectively taking Brock down at first and then Jason), and Brock having to make the hard decision of taking him off duty; Jason, on the other hand, is left wondering what’s left of his life, if he still has a purpose as Forces leave Afghanistan and J-Bad behind, if Jason Hayes can exist outside of War. 04x01 was set to parallel both stories and it’s been done so very effectively (also side note, gotta thank Director DB for these gorgeous wide plans — boy might have taken a page out of the Lord of the Rings playbook, as per @camille-williams’ comment​). The parallels between Jace and Cerb ends with the scene where Brock brings him back into the cages’ room, and there’s an interesting bit of dialog from Jason here that directly highlights Jace’s path:

“A warrior’s place is on the battlefield. That dog was bred to be in the fight. But I think he’s suffered way too much stress, combat and trauma. I think it’s time for him to just be a dog.”

………… sirs, is that foreshadowing?

(yes, it is)

The way they set the flashbacks between current-Jace and 13-years-ago-Jace was absolutely spot on, basically highlighting Jason’s self-doubts as they’re going into their final mission with Bravo Team ‘as it stands’ (because both Ray and Clay are set to leave at that point). The way Jason’s mind went from “Family first” to “Bravo Team always comes first” takes a wide place, also highlighting all the in-betweens — Jason wanting to be a family man, having more kids/opposed to Jason walking on Ray and Naima being sweet as fck (The Perrys, man, do I love the Perrys ❤️) and looking at that picture of Alana and Mickey with blank eyes. We get a glimpse at what Jason used to be, carefree, always in for a fight and a laugh, which is now being paralleled by the team-leader who gets shit done. I also loved that we got to see what Ray was like before he turned into what he is now, paralleling with his current family situation (again, THE PERRYS ❤️).

The parallels between Jason’s ex team leader Guzo and present team leader Jace was one I didn’t expected but ended up loving. We get to see how Jason evolved and morphed into the warrior and team leader he is today, and truth be told, I don’t think he’d be here without Guzo. We see him knock some sense into young Hayes, and we get to see the exact moment where Jason’s head shifts into the Team mode we’ve been seeing him in ever since the serie started. I also personally loved some of the tidbits we got from the dialog (“You can’t be half a gangster, Hayes”, “All in all the time”), including the “When you’re outside the wire, home is where you hang your helmet” because that’s a direct callback to a line that Jason said to Ray in season 3. There’s a lot of Guzo in Jason, and this episode put a lot of effort into making sure we get to understand Jace’s journey… which I loved, because we didn’t get to see a lot of that in the past.

Then comes the parallels between Clay and Jason, set so carefully since season 1, that turns into a very blatant show of “Clay is Jason from a decade ago minus the goddamn trauma”. There’s a whole different meta post to be made about Clay’s story arc over these last two episode, and I’m not sure I have the strength to dive in just yet, but I’ll say this bit: Clay’s story has been crafted from day 1 to be paralleled with Jason’s, and if that wasn’t clear enough before, I think these two episodes gave us the most solid view of that. If not for the fact that it’s Clay who get’s to take out Al-Hazred Jr. when we know Jason took out Al-Hazred Sr. 13 years before (effectively moving his career forward onto the path he’s now been on for a decade), I think the plan has always been to follow Clay’s journey as he works up the ladder of Bravo Team, and with STA-21 taken off the table and Bravo 1 stepping down, I wouldn’t be surprised to see both Ray staying and Clay effectively starting to train as Bravo 2 (although there are probably going to be disciplinary consequences, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see that pattern unfold later on during the season). 

Which brings me to my best friend’s question from last night: when do you think Jason’s “Oh” moment happened? Was it there all along, or does he work up to it during those two hours and come to realization later on in that bar?

I do think he works up to it. It’s clearly highlighted throughout the entire episode, but the first thing that struck me is the way the flashbacks are carefully crafted to give off a “what’s my place in all of this, and do I still have one” vibe. 

The scene where Ray is Skyping with Naima when Jason arrives was incredibly powerful to me. The dialog itself (“Just come home safe, that’s all that matters to anyone in this house / People in that house is what matters to me the most”) highlights Jason’s family situation, the fact that he’s coming home to an empty apartment, and it’s directly shown by him taking Alana and Mickey’s photo in hand. That’s when we get the “Family always come first” flashback, and it’s maybe the most painful of it all.

We see Jason’s doubts as to where he stands in this, and it might be the first time ever. The parallels (again!) between now-Bravo-1-Jason and then-Bravo-1-Guz is so carefully set that I half-expected him to show up at the end in that bar, knocking some sense into Jason (I guess he kind of did, since Jason is looking at Guzo’s picture on the bar’s wall before he gathers the Team to say his piece). 

Then there’s the conversation between Chaplain Walker and Jace, and boy, oh boy, is it foreshadowing (no pun intended) (okay, maybe a little). 

For the sake of it, let me just pull up dialogs real quick:

J: Whole place will be scrapped in a month. You’ll be out of business.

W: I’ll be reassigned. Address will change, job never does.

J: You ever wish you had a job where at the end of it, there was a sign that, I don’t know, said that you were done, that it was over?

W: What would that look like?

J: My Flyers, when they win the Stanley Cup, they go down Broad St. and they have a parade. It’s a victory… you see it.

W: Unfortunately for us, the war on terror doesn’t have a goal line to cross. But you know, you don’t strike me as the type who need to spike the football. 

J: Just be nice to know that it was worth the cost. 40 fallen brothers, a broken marriage, broken body… broken head.

W: You told me last time we spoke, you know you’ve made an impact that will last forever here.

J: The only thing that’s gonna last forever is this war. I’ll — I’ll see you around.

W: You know, I —  I think you’re wrong about them just scrapping it all. Somebody’s gonna sort through it. You know, ask the questions that we all should ask.

J: I don’t understand. What do you mean?

W: End of the day — what do you take away from here? What can you pull from the rubble, to be cherished? What do you need to leave behind? And what can you pass on to someone else?

SEAL Team 04x02 — Forever War

This is the first time I’ve ever seen Jason voice his doubts, in public, to someone who is NOT Ray, or for that matter, Sonny. This is Jason acknowledging that he doesn’t really know where he stands, or what’s left for him. We’re starting to see the “where does Jason Hayes stands in all of this, and can Jason Hayes exists outside of the battlefield”.

(Also, I love Chaplain Walker, can we keep him pretty please?)

Then they go home, and Mandy drops the hammer on him (“If I don’t walk away now, I’m gonna lose myself forever”). He sees firsthand someone he loves and connects with deciding to walk away. The whole conversation between them is Jason trying so hard to hold onto the threads and Mandy basically saying “this is me walking away because I can, we can, you still can. You’re not just a shell of a man doomed to be sent on the battlefield, Jason, there’s more to it.”

We get the cages’ room scene with Cerberus coming back and Jason voicing the fact that it’s time for Cerberus to “just be a dog” because he’s seen enough war, enough trauma. 

And then comes the bar scene with a steel chair. 

First and foremost, and that is not entirely Jason related, but I’m a big fan of the song choice in the background of the Savis scene (Matt Costa’s Make That Change), if only for the exact part of the lyrics that have been chosen to be played at that exact moment (“Because the start is the finish line, even if you take two steps back / You gotta make that change to see a brighter day”). Now, I don’t really believe in coincidence, and even if it is… It’s a really nice nods to what’s about to unfold.

And boy, does that unfold. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a sobbing mess all through the entirety of Jason’s speech. 

I think learning that Clay’s taking the fall for Ray is the final straw for Jason. We see the realization on his face right before he turns to Guzo’s portrait on the wall. I’m not going to go much further than that, I’ve giffed the whole dialog of Jason explaining he’s standing down earlier right here. 

All I’ve got to say at this point is that this was supposed to be our season finale last season, and it culminated the whole arc of Jason’s character over season 3. I’m incredibly excited to see what’s in store for the rest of season 4, and how/if Jason adapts. I see growth through a man that spent a lot of time trying to ignore and override the signs of his body and mental health to keep grinding, because he truly believed that’s what he was meant to be. I wonder what his next step is going to be, and where it’s going to take him.

This is incredibly all over the place, but I swear I’ll get better at sorting through my ideas overtime. Until then, enjoy that mess of a meta and feel free to add to it if you’ve got anything else to say.

#good lord spn really did broke me #i know for a fact that literally NO ONE is going to read that long ass post but i also DON'T GIVE A FUCK #this is 2k words about jason hayes and i'm not sorry #seal team #seal team meta #seal team cbs #jason hayes #character meta #character analysis #jus.meta #seik-o #archer-and-lionprince #usersamanne #overtimeme #mutteringghost #abcdefuk-off #usermone #userbravo

[deiitaelric]

Amnesia / bakudeku fic part 3

Part 2

“Maybe I have something to say about this, don’t you think?” Izuku was standing a few feet apart, looking at him piercingly. Inko got up, pushing the chair on its place again.

“I’ll leave you two alone so you can talk” She passed behind Katsuki and placed a hand over his shoulder. “You can stay the night. There’s a futon in Izuku’s wardrobe” She moved away from him and caressed Izuku’s face before leaving. “Good night, sweetie”

“Good night, mom”

Izuku stayed still until he heard his mother closing the door of her room. “Tell me,” Katsuki balled his hand into fists over the table and looked away. “You said you hurt me. I want to know why”

“…I tried to push you away from me because I didn’t want to be the one being hurt”

“So did I hurt you first?” Izuku asked, taking a few steps toward him.

“No, you didn’t”

“Then why would you be hurt?”

“You’re so transparent… I didn’t want to be seen through… through you. So I pushed you away. I thought it was easier for me pushing you away instead of confront myself”

“And what-? What did you do to push me away?”

“I acted like I hated you” Katsuki contracted his shoulders, all his muscles tensed. “I kept calling you ‘useless’, making you feel unworthy, and refusing you every time you were around. And the worst was that my acts encouraged other people to do the same”

“Did you hate me, though?” The question caught Katsuki by surprise. He looked up at Izuku, who was just a couple feet apart now.

“What? No, I mean… I don’t know. I was pissed off with you when I should be only pissed off with myself. And… Not even that. I don’t know. I think there was a point when I really believed I hated you for real, but it was just… fear. I even… fuck”

“Even what? What did you do, Katsuki?”

“You-” Started Katsuki with a trembling voice. He sighed, trying to relax his muscles a bit before starting again. “You used to carry a notebook everywhere. You drew so much and took notes of your days and shits like that. You didn’t never really show me them” Katsuki shook his head, shrugging slightly. “The thing is, one day this transferred student came up in our class. He pissed me off only standing there all full of himself. But when the classes ended and I passed beside your desk, I saw a bunch of drawings of him in your sketchbook. It really pissed me off” He closed his eyes tight. “So I grabbed the notebook and threw it through the window, making fun of you about your sexuality. You… you kinda confront me and it pissed me off even more. So I… I kept insulting you at the point of telling you that you should jump off the roof and wish to be born the right way in your next life”

They remained silent; Katsuki not feeling the courage to look up at him, preparing himself for the storm. But then Izuku landed a hand over one of his arms.

“Wait!” Katsuki looked up at him, finally, and saw his pretty green eyes really focused. “Oh my god, wait a moment!” He grabbed Katsuki’s arm tighter and pulled him to his feet, carrying the blonde away towards his own room.

“What are you doing? Didn’t you hear what I just told you?” Izuku shushed him and Katsuki looked at him in disbelief. What the fuck was wrong with him? Before realizing what was happening, Katsuki was sitting at Izuku’s desk with the other in front of him flipping pages of a nasty notebook.

“Here!” Izuku landed the sketchbook roughly on the desk. “It’s him, right?”

Katsuki looked at the drawings, a little smudged, the page ruined here and there as if water had fallen on it. Maybe his fault. There was a little pond below the windows of his old class. So yeah, highly probable his fault. Fuck.

“Yeah, but what are you-?”

“Todoroki”

“Huh?”

“His name. I just remembered his name. I… I kinda remember him” He approached and landed a finger on the biggest drawing. “Half his hair was red, that’s why it’s shadowed. The other half was white. His eyes were different color, too”

Katsuki looked up at him, confused, pissed off, aghast. Izuku started pacing around his room, hands locked on his green curls.

“I didn’t remember... I just remembered him now. He was a little stone-cold at first, but after some time we ended up being friends. I wonder what happened, because I didn’t hear from him for the last two years” He started rambling and Katsuki sighed slightly, turning again to look at the pages. It still pissed him off the well-drawn that face was in all his versions, how careful the lines were. He turned the page and saw more pretty drawings. He kept flipping pages and found tiny landscapes, some doodles of little objects, even some animals. He ran a finger over the lines when he found a self-portrait. “Keep talking”

Katsuki’s hand flinched back like the page had burned him. And he was grateful because Izuku just appeared on his side. He panicked a little when he found the sketchbook on another page.

“Sorry” Said Katsuki, closing the notebook and handing it to the other. “I already told you what I had to tell you. And you are as reckless as ever. Do you not fucking care?”

“It’s not like I don’t care, but… Look, I only remember like two years of my life and I have memories of people making fun of me for similar reasons”

“That’s not a reason for not being mad at me!”

“Are you mad at me because I’m not mad at you?”

“I- Yes! I was horrible towards you! I made you feel bad about yourself, even if you’re in fact straight it might hurt you I said that to you, I mean- And I was an asshole even before, calling you useless for years, too. You should be mad at me!”

“Look at you” Said Izuku, calmly, almost smiling. Katsuki was suddenly conscient of his wide and watery eyes, his panting, his hands clenched in fists over his thighs. He looked away, brushing aggressively his eyes with the dorse of his hand.

“Fuck you. I’m going home” He got up and marched towards the door.

“No, wait!” Izuku grabbed his clothes and Katsuki brushed him off but stopped. “Please, wait! I wasn’t making fun of you. I only wanted you to be aware of yourself. How can I be mad at you if you’re feeling so bad about having done that?”

Katsuki turned and looked at him, frowning.

“That doesn’t change shit”

“Yeah, it does. I never saw anyone feeling bad about hurting me. From what I can remember, nobody never apologized”

“Well, I’m sorry, okay? And I mean it”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to point out. So don’t be mad at me, please. And don’t be mad at you, neither”

“You just can’t say that. It can’t be that easy, you’re just being reckless”

“This was easy for you? I don’t think so. And it isn’t easy for me, either. I…” Izuku made a pause and looked at his feet. “I just regained a friend; can I keep it?”

“I haven't been your friend for a long time��”

“Whatever. Can you be it again?”

___

TBC

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakudeku fic #mind the tags in part 1

[gerec]

AU-gust 2020 Prompts

1. Fantasy AU - Cherik

2. College AU - Cherik, Xavierine

3. Soulmates AU - Cherik

“You should go see the painting, Charles. I’m sure you’ll find it extremely…intriguing.”

That was the message Raven left on his voicemail yesterday, a cryptic tease about a new work exhibiting at the Frick. Specifically that he should see the one by Max Eisenhardt, renowned 16th century Renaissance painter, recently donated to the museum by his descendants from their private collection. 

He didn’t understand Raven’s insistence until now, as he’s staring up at the portrait of a young man bearing his face. It steals his breath away, the uncanny resemblance, and something like longing tugs painfully at his chest; whoever the subject is, he must have been greatly beloved by the artist. Every brush stroke is lovingly made, the soft lighting and colors combining to capture the man in an almost angelic purity. He wonders if the two were soulmates, living together all those centuries ago, doomed to hide a connection that had yet to be defined and understood in their time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I must have seen this painting thousands of times, and yet I find I never tire of it,” a voice says from behind his shoulder, startling Charles from his reverie. The room had been empty when he arrived, though he realizes now that he has no idea how long he’s been standing there, staring fixedly at the canvas on the wall. 

“It is. I think it’s—”

He stops abruptly, his words caught in his throat at the sight of the man standing there – tall, lean, and incredibly attractive, though it’s the look on the man’s face that stuns him to silence. Shock, wonder, and maybe hope flashes briefly across his features, before he stops gaping and gives Charles a plain if subdued smile.

“I’m sorry for staring. It’s just that…you look remarkably like the man in the painting.”

Charles laughs. “Strange isn’t it? My sister told me I had to come down and see this piece by Max Eisenhardt. Now I know why.” Then he looks back up at the portrait and asks, “Do you know anything about him?”

Stepping next to Charles, the man replies, “It was painted by the artist in his home in Poland in 1645. There’s no record of the subject’s name, though people believe that he was a scholar Eisenhardt met during the years he lived in England. They were good friends, possibly lovers…” He stops, inhaling softly before he adds, “but now I think they might have been soulmates after all.”

“You seem to know a lot about the artist and his work,” Charles says. The stranger is unfairly handsome, his voice both mesmerizing and soothing to his ears. “Are you an expert in Renaissance art?”

“Not really, no,” he answers, with a slight quirk of his brow. “Eisenhardt is my great-great-great uncle, though I can’t remember exactly how many ‘greats’ it should be. We’ve had this in our family for generations. Supposedly, he told his descendants never to sell this piece or to make it public. This is the first time it’s ever been shown.” 

“Oh.” Charles can’t help but think it terribly romantic, that the artist wished to keep something so personal to him away from the rigors of scrutiny and debate. “May I ask why your family is choosing to show it now? After all these years?” 

“Because of this.” The man points over his shoulder, and then leads Charles to the painting hanging on the opposite wall. It is the same size as the first, and – to Charles’ utter disbelief – a portrait of the stranger’s own doppelganger, staring moodily from the canvas. “This is a self-portrait by Eisenhardt, painted in the same year.”

“How is this--? He looks just like you!”

“I’ve always thought so,” the man agrees, something almost melancholy in the way he looks between the two portraits, the lovers’ gaze seemingly locked for eternity. Then he turns those steely blue eyes at Charles and smiles. “I thought…maybe the world deserved to see what they were forced to hide. And that maybe…”

Charles takes a step closer, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

“That maybe I’d find him too. My soulmate,” the stranger says. “I’m Erik.”

He smiles, and offers his hand to shake. “I’m Charles.”

“Charles,” Erik says, just before their fingers touch, and their entire world changes. “That’s a beautiful name.” 

#gerec writes #cherik #soulmates au #au-gust 2020 #august writing challenge #day 3

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Crimson Shadows 2

Jercy Vampire AU: Percy

masterlist; information post for fic

I was debating whether i should change traditional things like greetings but then i realised this is my fic and im writing it for purely self indulgent purposes so like i could if i wanted. Thanks for joining in on my hedonism! Please enjoy.

Perseus steps onto the creaky wooden floor of his ostentatious 16th century mansion and mentally reminds himself for the two-hundredth time that he needs to get someone in to fix it. The worst thing about being immortal, he has come to learn, is that he procrastinates everything ten times harder. At least his teenage self would be impressed with his tactics, even if his mother was rolling in her grave.

The house is unusually quiet for an Orion morning and he strains his already sonic hearing to catch the sounds of silent footfalls and bustling bodies. But the wind rushes through the space and there are no other noises. A flutter gives in his chest as he steps into the kitchen to find breakfast waiting for him and a note folded neatly next to it.

Hey Doc,

Twins have gone to Bharatanatyam class and Hoku went to the beach. I’m just picking stuff up at the grocer, be home in a jiff.

- Keeya

He releases a breath and sits down at the table with a smile. The delicious smell of eggs and blood hit him as he takes off the cover to reveal a plate of eggs benedict, hash-browns and a small glass of ichor. He shoots down the blood, content to let it work through him as he gobbles down the heavenly breakfast. He knows Keeya cooked because she was always experimenting with food, always in here creating dishes and making them beg to eat whatever is giving off that sublime smell. Just as he cuts into a hash brown he hears the door shut and hurried footsteps rushing towards him.

“To the Sun,” Keeya flurries into the kitchen, face blocked by brown paper bags stuffed to the brim with what he’s sure to be her latest concoction.

“Amongst the Stars,” His lips twitch in amusement, “Early morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep so i-” Her voice muffles as she busies herself packing items in the pantry, “-thought I’d start on breakfast but while i was looking for an eggs benny recipe i came across this golden cake and-” Her head pops out of the pantry, black eyes flashing with excitement, “Doc when i tell you i almost died right there, it sounded so good. Anyway of course i had to leave immediately to get all the things we didn’t have.” She finally collapses onto a stool across from him and takes a breath.

He hides a laugh and waits for the rest of the story, because with Keeya there is always more. 

“Anyway i get to the shop-” She starts. He covers his inescapable laugh with a cough. “And they don’t have desiccated coconut. Can you believe that? I mean it’s the main ingredient in the damn cake. So I was panicking a little because it’s the closest shop open at that time, the others I'd have to take a train for which is so inconvenient?” She gives him an incredulous look. He nods seriously; inside he is fighting off giggles. “But they found some in the back, thank the stars, and then I just grabbed a few things because it’s ‘make your own pizza’ night and I think some people from the Araw house are joining us.”

“Sounds fun, is Elouan going to be here?” He pops the last bit of poached egg in his mouth and looks at her expectantly.

She makes a disapproving face, “No, he’s off with his new partner. I don’t trust them at all.”

“Why?” Perseus is on guard immediately, fingers curling, hair sensitive, and gums stinging with the need to unsheathe his fangs. 

“Their vibe is off,” Her nose scrunches up, “Like they’re used to getting into trouble and bailing out.”

“I’ll tell Elly to be careful but maybe go with him next time Kee,” He suggests, a tentative look in his eyes as her own widen.

“All we’ll do is argue, and besides, he hates me hanging out with his friends.”

“Ever asked him why?” He has a feeling about it but he’ll never voice it. No, the two can come to their own conclusions. After all, they had forever to figure it out.

“I don’t care why. He’s a dick and I'm not interested in anything he has to say.”

He shrugs but leaves the conversation, and the kitchen, so Keeya can do her thing. He has some admin to do anyway; a dreary task but one that must be done all the same. Besides without the twins and Hoku the house is absurdly silent, so he needs something to occupy himself.

His study is actually a little desk situated in their library. It’s his favourite room in the house for the opulent fireplace that stays lit through Baridi and serves as a soot-slide in Caldu, and of course the books which although he doesn't read many of, remind him of his mother. He has been alive for almost three hundred years and there is hardly a day that goes by when he doesn’t think of her. For every part of him that isn’t human, there’s a part of her that makes him so. He stares up at the portrait of her hanging near the doorway, painted by a friend long gone and with a loving smile gets to work.

He sorts, and signs, and stamps, and notes in an endless cycle until finally his finances are in order, his donations are chequed and his letters are sealed. He’s sure Hoku will groan endlessly about receiving yet another letter under their pillow and try to explain that email is much more convenient and faster for everyone. Perseus tilts his head to the ceiling and watches the stars dance as he plays out the conversation in his head.

“Doc, I really appreciate the effort you put into sending us letters but this is not the eighteenth century, just use email.”

“Hoku i like the letters, they’re personal and calming to write.”

“Doc, emails are more convenient and i can take them anywhere.”

“Okay I’ll stop giving you letters. I’ll just give the others.”

“What? No? That’s a terrible idea. I still want my letters.”

And they would have the conversation every month without fail. It is a rather amusing part of the routine and sometimes Perseus purposefully makes Hoku’s letters a little longer, just to bother them. A secret best kept as such, but funny nonetheless.

“DOC!” A voice screams through the house, shattering his ear drums.

The twins.

He steps out of the library, and half jogs to the source of the noise, which he discovers is coming from the entertainment room. 

“To the Sun, you two.”

Serafina looks up first, her brown eyes shining with never-ending energy. The anklets on her feet jingle as she runs towards him and slams her body into his. He holds firm as he catches her and wraps his arms around her shoulders.

“Amongst the Stars,” She mumbles, face buried in his shirt.

“How was Bharatanatyam?”

She gasps, stepping out of his embrace and squealing with delight. “Doc we have to show you what we learnt! Aaru come!” Her dark eyebrows knit together as she focuses on her brother.

“Tusa Aarush.” Perseus smiles, squatting down so he’s level with the boy. A little hand, the colour of cherry wood, reaches up to give him a high-five. A standard greeting for the quiet brother; a complete opposite to his outgoing sister.

“Aaru are you ready?” Serafina comes to stand beside them, after setting up the sound system.

He nods and moves so they’re in the middle of the room. Quickly they do the opening prayer before Serafina bounces to the sound bar and presses play. The sweet, sturdy music fills the room and then they're going through a whole routine. Stamping their feet in a rhythm that matches the beat perfectly. Aarush pinches his fingers and fans them out. A closed flower opening, he recognises. They do a series of moves all impressive and beautiful, before the music fades and they pose, breathless with exertion and excitement. 

He claps enthusiastically and opens his arms for hugs. “You did wonderfully!” Serafina slams into him. Aarush gives him another high-five. “When is the performance?”

“Not for a long time Doc.” The little girl says, as if he should know this. She heads off to fiddle with the speakers. 

“In two months,” Aaru answers. His voice is clear and even. He is quiet but not soft. “In Pluto.”

“Ah, I'll make sure I have it down in the calendar.” The little boy's face lights up like a stadium and Perseus’ heart clenches with love. The twins had only been living with him for half a century but within the first year they had him completely wrapped around his fingers. Their claimed age is ten but their true age is one hundred and two. He found them shivering behind a dumpster in Orman, their skin stretched across their bones and that rabid look of underfed vampire in their eyes. He had taken them in and given them blood and a bed for the night, which turned into a week, and then a month. Before he knew it he was bringing them to this house in Roshani where they had immediately fallen in love with the city and made it their home.

“Fina, i’m going to shower.” Aarush states and without further flurry he leaves.

“Is everything okay with classes? All of them, not just Bharatanatyam.” Perseus asks the talkative twin.

“Yes,” She nods, unclipping her anklets. Her voice lowers, serious bleeding in. It is hard to forget their age, true or claimed, when this happens. Because suddenly their bubbly little girl who flits around the house and talks your ear off and throws herself into everything with the vivacity of a ten year old, disappears. In her place is the century old girl who has experienced more of life’s pleasures and hardships than most of the world can only begin to imagine.

“We’re covered for everything. And Aaru starts teaching a new linguistics course on Monday so he’ll have some cash to fling around. Although,” She rolls her eyes, “We all know he’ll just put it in his account and let it sit like a fat cat.”

He laughs, flicking her nose at her distaste for her brother’s complete lack of spending. “He likes to invest in stocks and give it away. You know he doesn’t hoard.”

“I know i know,” She grumbles, scrunching her nose, “I just wish he’d spend some on himself.”

“I think he thinks you spoil him enough.”

“I don’t spoil him nearly enough. Most times I try to buy him something and he just shuts it down. Like last Draco i tried to buy him that new puzzle he was talking about and he just slammed my laptop shut.”

She looks so put out he can't help but giggle, and when she scowls at him for it he pulls her in for a hug and kisses her head. “He likes to do things with you. Maybe try getting things you guys can do together.” She brightens at that, and he can see the gears turning in her sharp mind. “Alternatively, save up all the buying for special occasions like Birthdays or Turning or Koro day.” She hums in acknowledgement but her thoughts are still going a mile a minute so he steps out and lets her work it through.

The house is alive again: Keeya is still in the kitchen, and by the sounds of it Hoku too, begging for something. Elouan still isn’t in and he cannot stop the trinkle of worry that falls between his ribs. Trying to keep it out of his mind he walks towards the noise and is greeted by the site of countertops covered in dishes filled with all sorts of delights. The smell is enough to put him in a coma. And Hoku sits on the counter, pale blue eyes puppy-wide with pleading. He glances to their wrist and sees the sunshine yellow band. She/her today then. It gets exhausting, she had told them, to continuously have to announce yourself to the world, especially when you didn’t know how the world would react. 

“Hoku,” Keeya sighs, “I am not giving you the poli until you go and change. You smell like seaweed.” The coconut-stuffed pastry pockets sit on the counter, still piping hot from the oil they had just been fried in. 

“Awww come on Kee, i just need one. I’ll pass out in the shower if i don’t get it and then it’ll be all your fault.”

Keeya’s eyes roll so far back he’s worried she’ll get them stuck behind her sockets. But they roll forward and give Hoku a very pointed glare.

“Get your ass out of my kitchen and go and shower, you irritation!” She scolds; rendered a little ineffective by the flour smeared across her cheek which is a startling contrast to her brown-scapolite skin.

“You are the absolute worst.” Hoku sulks as she slides off the stool and trudges to the entrance. "Tusa Doc.” The sigh is heavy and he struggles to keep in the laughter threatening to spill past his lips. It is never a dull moment in the Aarde House. Perseus collapses onto the stool Hoku had just vacated and lets loose the smile he had been trying to hide. Keeya returns it with one of her own and then launches into a conversation about her latest creations.

Hours later they had moved from food talk, which made him unfathomably hungry, to her teaching, to his own escapades and ideas. She laughed as he recounted the night out he had some weeks ago and the beautiful blue-haired person he had taken a bodyshot on. But soon the sun is sinking to the city floor and the people in the house emerge from their various rooms to congregate in the kitchen, which serves as the house hangout spot. Keeya had packed most of the food away, save for a loaf of fresh bread and the poli Hoku had been begging for. She puts the kettle on and starts up the coffee machine, chattering away as she did. 

Aarush shuffles into the room and immediately takes up a spot next to Perseus. Serafina and Hoku walk in next talking about knee pains and sore feet.

“Did you guys bother to put ice packs or kinaesthetic tape on?” Keeya raises an eyebrow. They both stick their tongues out at her, and move to sit on the opposite side of the table.

“Hoku,” Aaru settles his brown eyes on her, “Will you teach me how to do the splits? My Bharatanatyam teacher says i need to learn to be more flexible.”

Hoku is already nodding enthusiastically, “Of course A, i can absolutely teach you. But you should know flexibility doesn’t come from doing the splits it comes from muscle control and ligament manipulation.”

“I read up about it but i don't feel confident enough to try on my own.”

A gleam enters Hoku’s blue eyes, “You should come with me to a ballet class. Elouan is doing piano for us next week in preparation for our concert coming up. We’ll be able to get the studio to ourselves for a little while.”

“Sure,” Aru shrugs, “Sounds fun.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Serafina tugs her twin's sleeve, looking at him with hurt in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you, and besides Hoku teaches ballet I figured she’d be the best bet for me.”

Serafina looks like she’s going to say something, argue maybe, but then the last of their little household walks in and conversation drifts.

“Past the Moon, Elouan,” Perseus smiles at the oldest of the group, save for him.

A floppy smile transforms a pasty face. As he hobbles towards them, leaning heavily on his walking stick, he mumbles a round of greetings.

“How are you?” Keeya asks once he’s settled into a chair next to her.

“I could do with some food and maybe some blood but otherwise just peachy.” His moonlight white curls fall into his face and he pushes them back absentmindedly.

“Can we finally have the poli now?” Hoku glares at their baker, rebellion already flashing in her blue eyes.

“Dig in you little heathen,” Keeya shoves the plate towards her and they all descend. 

Tea and coffee are passed around as well as small glasses of blood for any of them that need it. Perseus and the twins refrain, having had their fill at some point during the day but they happily dig into the coconut pastry and drink copious amounts of coffee.

“So,” Elouan says around a mouthful of poli, “Who’s coming with me to the Red Queen tomorrow?”

“Me!” Hoku shouts immediately. Ever the party animal.

“I’d love to.” Keeya mumbles behind her tea, suddenly shy.

“No thanks.” Aarush pulls a face and goes back to stacking the knives into a precarious tower.

“Fina? Doc?”

“I have to work on stuff for varsity but maybe next time.” Serafina shrugs a shoulder, her brown eyes glazing over as her mind goes back to working a mile a minute.

“I’ll let you know after our dinner tonight. I think some of the Houses want to call a meeting tomorrow to discuss funding and housing in a few cities.”

“You should invite them along,” His white eyebrows knit together in thought, “You guys should invite anyone you want.”

“What’s got you so friendly?” Keeya gives a suspicious look.

“Arrow said they wanted to meet you.”

Her face pulls into something resembling horror, “Uh never mind i think i have stuff to do, maybe next time.”

Elouan pins his honey eyes on her and they look more like the sting of the bee than the gold of the nectar. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I don’t trust them.” She bites out, setting her mug down with a hard crack.

“You don’t even know them. You’re just being judgmental because they’ve turned a few innocents.”

“It’s not just that Elouan,” Where he is the sky, Keeya is the earth. “They are leading you to the dens and soon you’ll be following in their footsteps.”

Perseus was content to ignore their argument and continue talking to everyone else or eating his way through the feast, but that angered whisper steals his attention. “You’ve been going to the dens?”

“I went twice and i didn't even do anything.” He rolls his eyes.

“It’s not about what you do El,” Keeya’s voice is lethal with fury, and worry. “It’s about what gets done in there.” 

“It’s not safe Elouan. Not only for you but if something happens you put a target on all of our backs. And I will not have you endangering anyone in this house just to look cool for your new partner.” There is no compromise in Perseus’ hard green eyes.

The younger vamp sees this and nods once. “I won’t go to the dens again, Doc.”

“Right now that we have that sorted,” He leaves no room for further say on the topic, “What do you need us to do for dinner before the Araw House gets here, Kee?”

He sees her hide the emotions still burning in her eyes before she claps her hands and puts them to work. And when the members of the Araw house arrive there is no lingering anger suffocating the kitchen. It is bright and loud and messy. It is home.

“Tamo, tamo, everyone!” Musical greetings come from the front of the house and a few seconds later Drew Tanaka and Charles Beckendorf appear in the doorway, as radiant and deadly as always.

Drew looks devastating in a blood red jumpsuit and a gold choker glittering at her neck. Charles has a hand wrapped around her and looks just as sinful in an emerald green suit lined with the most startling azure. His wedding band glints in the soft yellow lights of the kitchen and the two rubies encrusted in it match the band around Drew’s finger.

“Towards the Moon, old man,” Drew sits down with the grace of a dancer who has been perfecting their art for centuries. 

“Who are you calling old man?” Perseus scoffs, “I’m only one month older than you. Besides Charlie is the old man.” 

The subject in question rolls his eyes and shoves both their shoulders, flashing his fangs. His wife just laughs waggling perfectly sculpted eyebrows that suggest more than any of them are willing to interpret.

“Where’s the rest of your chaotic crew?” He motions to the lack of people that usually surrounded them.

“They’re all busy tonight, something about the Safe Haven Sound.” Charlie shrugs, “I’m actually surprised none of you guys went. It was apparently some big event.”

Hoku makes a face that means trouble. Nobody stops her. “It’s mostly for new vamps trying to enter the world. There’s a lot that can go wrong. We tend to stay away.”

Drew turns to her sharply, “Who runs it?”

“The Underboss.” Hoku makes another, more disgusted face.

“Actually,” Keeya says quietly, “It’s the Underboss’ lackey that runs it. The Underboss just owns it.”

“Ugh i hate that slimy little shit more than my ex.”

“Hoku,” Serafina frowns, “Give Luke some credit. At least he was hot.”

Perseus lets a smile loose at that. “Octavian is not ugly, he’s just ghaunt.”

“Doc,” Elouan raises a brow, “He is a ghost.”

“Literally? Aarush frowns, the first thing he’s said since their guests arrived.

“No,” Drew has a contemplative look on her face, “At least i don’t think so.”

“He was part of the Trials.” Charlie adds “That’s what i’ve heard anyway.”

Perseus shudders inwardly as he remembers those dark times. Power-hungry people, people who had no right to participate in their world, had taken it upon themselves to try and create their own supernatural creatures. It was a horrible, terrifying time for humans and duniyarall alike. They had stopped it before it had become the war it intended to be but it was deemed unethical to kill the products of those experiments. So, even today, a century and a half later, there are still Triallers- as they had been so creatively named- roaming, existing, living. For the most part they seem to be peaceful, despite being created for violence, but there are some like the Underboss’ lackey that still give an off-vibe; like feral is just around the corner, one blink away.

“How about we make some pizzas?” Keeya interrupts their conversation before they dive into what will inevitably become a two hour discussion.

“Let’s!” Serafina claps her hands, and Hoku matches her as they hop up and dive towards the fridge where cut and readied ingredients sit.

The evening is chaotic, and bright and full of laughter. They discover that between all their years of life, none of them had ever learnt how to toss pizza dough. Charlie and Keeya make a deal to go to Italy and learn before the decade is out. Drew sees the trip as a chance to get a tan in the beautiful Italian heat, and be fed delicious food straight from her husband’s hands. They make the most of the evening, a rare and peaceful one that recharges the energy in them like bolts of lightning. Perseus hasn’t felt this content in many many moons. 

Soon enough, however, it is just Elouan, Charlie, and Drew sitting on the velvet couches of their lounging area, chatting quietly as they sip various expensive liquor.

He looks at his friends, the gentle glow of the chandelier striking their features. They are beautiful. It is a warm kind of beauty, noticeable in the softness of an expression, or the happiness of a moment. They’re angelic.

“Doc?” Elouan drags him out of his quiet admiration.

“Sorry?”

“Drew and Charlie were just discussing what to do about the hotel on Palace road,” The moonlight caught in his hair ripples as he speaks. “They wanted to find out if you’d be okay with extraction?”

Perseus nods, considering the angles, the necessities

“I don’t feel it’s right to go in armed.” Charlie looks around the room, that composed intensity washing over them. “They’re children, and they’re probably scared.”

The frown between Drew’s perfect brows deepens. “I heard there’s cubs and sangrinos inside.”

“Who’s getting them food? How do they leave? What’s keeping them there?”

A loud ding sounds from someone in the room, and Elouan scrambles to reach his phone. The screen is bright in the dimly lit space and he has to blink hard to adjust his eyes, but then he lets out a curse and rushes towards the door, leaning deeply into stick as the anger worsens his limp.

“Everything okay El?”

“Just Arrow.” He waves it off, “I’ll be back before sun.”

Perseus just nods, watching as the large wooden doors slam shut behind the vampire. When he hears the front door bang, he stands, bowing to his guest in a sign of quick return and steps out of the room in search of members of their household.

“Keeya, Aaru.” He calls from the parlor.

They arrive within seconds, her with a face mask on and her dressing gown half tied, and him with charcoal smudges on his cheeks, and a loose paper in his hand.

‘Doc?” Keeya frowns, sensing the urgency in his aura.

“Elouan just stepped out to help Arrow. Please will you two trace him, make sure he isn’t going to the dens. Don’t make yourself known until you know it’s safe.”

“Armed?” The steel reflecting in Aarush’s dark eyes calm Perseus’ nerves.

“No.” He doesn’t need to cause trouble with the Underboss. “Just make sure Elouan is okay. No violent blood is spilled tonight at your hands.” The volatile expression on the little vampire’s face lessens only a fraction. They both nod at him and disappear into their rooms to ready themselves.

He goes back to the lounge, and continues his discussion with his friends. When he hears the front door close, the quiet click echoing in his mind like a drum, he tells Charlie and Drew what is happening.

Drew, ever the mother, is immediately righteous, demanding she send out some of her pack as scouts. Charlie just holds her hand and looks to him with that expression that so often graces his face: how can we help?

Perseus smiles at Drew and her anger, understanding how she feels. “It is okay Tanaka,” He reassures her. “I’ve got it covered. We should talk about the children.”

She growls, and he can hear the wolf in her throat. “You will let us know if you need help Perseus.”

“Yes,” Even Charlie looks adamant, unstoppable. “We will not be in the dark again. Not when it comes to our own.”

He breathes, and it has taken two centuries to get here. To this moment. “I will ask for help if the time comes.”

“The Underboss is holding them in the hotel, and bribing them with food to join her army.” Just like that they move onto the next problem. The next call for help.

“Well then,” Perseus grins, and it looks like the first signs of destruction, “i guess we’ll be paying the Queen a visit.”

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

Elouan my love what are you doing????? Also: Who do you think the Queen is? *sus eyes*

Tags (if you want to be added to/taken off the tag list all my channels of communication are open):

@msdrpreist; @sparkythunderstorm; @aalikun; @crazy-stupid-bean; @queen-of-demons-and-hell; @pjo-hp-things; @nishlicious-01; @spoopylucy; @larrikin-is-a-himbo; @cyra04​; @leydiangelo​; @elecsinnerz​

#crimson shadows #part 2 #jercy vampire au #jercy #percy jackson #pjjg series #pjjg fanfic #Ciara's ocs #OCs #original characters #drew tanaka #charles beckendorf

[ladylunasolis]

Zutara Week 2020 - Day 2 “Counterpart”

Thought I would take this a different route (and barely made it to post before the day is over in my time! pls forgive any errors lol).  My first modern/college AU for Zutara.

You can also read this on AO3 :)

Rating: G

Zuko shifted his stool forward, and adjusted the easel his canvas was on.  Blank white stared back at him.  Today, they would be having new live models coming in to start their final project for the quarter - and the best ones would be displayed at the university student art show.  They were working on portraits, different styles of painting one, and would have to submit a piece in their own style.  Whatever Zuko lacked in expressing emotion verbally, he always did his best to show it in his art.

One of the things that did challenge him about portraits specifically was working with other people and being responsible to get their feeling across.  Not one to back down from a challenge, Zuko had definitely worked hard and took extra practice to get a bit more comfortable.

He was feeling pretty confident to start this painting.  And then the new models walked in.

One lanky young man with wild hair strolled languidly to the side of the classroom as the curious whispers of the class continued on.  Zuko noted his eyebrows were in a shape he had never seen before, and it would probably be interesting to get them just right.  Next, a girl with chin-length brown hair and a pretty smile walked in talking to the last model.

If that first girl was pretty to Zuko, this last girl was stunning.  She had beautiful chestnut hair in gentle waves, golden skin, and surprisingly blue eyes to die for.  Zuko cleared his throat and scooted again to hide his face, an unexpected shyness hitting him.

Katara noticed him with the cough and shuffle behind the canvas.  She caught a golden eye surrounded by light pink peering at her before ducking back to start prep on what materials to use.  Gold?  She had never seen such a hue before.  Curiosity flit through her mind as she slipped her bag off and prepped to sit for this session.

Suki had told her about a way to get some extra credit for their shared class, and she had sat for a few photographers in the past so she didn’t mind helping out.  She hardly knew the guy with them, Jet, but he was nice enough.  He was definitely a smooth talker and had tried to kiss her once when they went out with Suki and other mutual friends, but he was only a fun distraction.

Bad boys were definitely a type she’s had, but Katara couldn’t help but wonder about the shy guy shielding himself from her.

Some time had passed and the professor went up to Zuko, regarding his art with an amused expression Katara could see.  “Zuko, you realize there are three people modeling, correct?”

Zuko’s face heated up and he took a moment to still himself and make his voice as steady as possible.  “Yeah, I’m just starting off with her since she’s closest to me.”  Zuko wanted the ground to swallow him whole, as quickly and inconspicuously as possible.  He looked up to the models once more and found the blue-eyed girl watching him, a small smile on her lips.

Zuko.  Katara had never heard that name before and despite that, she thought it would feel nice on her tongue.  She felt a bit self-conscious for a moment after realizing he was focused on her, and so she straightened up and shifted her shawl down a touch to show a little more bare shoulder.  She was flattered at his attention and Katara had always been a kind person.  She figured she could do a small kindness to be an interesting model, and help Zuko get a good grade.  The skill was all up to him but in a way, she felt like his partner in this project.

The class was coming to and end and she replaced the tank top strap back where it should be, and skirt over the workout shorts she had on for the class.  Zuko was completely hidden while gathering his own things and Katara was going to say hi to him until Suki grabbed her by the elbow.

“Sokka, Aang, and Toph are at White Lotus for happy hour!  They have shots waiting for us.”

“I think I-.”

“Uh-uh, I don’t wanna hear it, Katara.  We deserve it!”  Suki shot her a toothy grin which Katara always had a hard time being stern with.  She shot one last glance at Zuko who had his back to them, before letting herself get dragged out with a laugh.

Behind her retreating form, Zuko was packing his things when he heard her name.  A secret smile formed on his lips and he chuckled.  “Katara, huh?”  Beautiful.

The project continued on, as each class was only an hour long.  Zuko wasn’t so taken aback anymore and was able to keep his wits about him each time he saw Katara.  She always sat closest to him and it got to the point where she would give a smile to greet him, and he would return a small nod in return.  Katara was appreciative of the fact Zuko finally let himself show his whole face from behind the canvas.  It would have been a shame if she never had a chance to really see it — a light pink scar running on one side of his face and despite that he was still one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen.

On this day Katara’s ears piqued as the professor neared Zuko’s form.  Zuko had taken to standing up, and was close to the canvas, brush moving slowly.  The professor hummed and Zuko only turned to acknowledge him for a moment.  “Zuko this piece…there’s more feeling behind it than I’ve seen so far this quarter.”

Blue met gold for a split second and Zuko straightened up.  “Well, I guess you could say I was inspired.”

Ever the curious girl, those words triggered an even bigger desire to see this Zuko’s work.  That’s it, I’m talking to him today.  No matter what Suki has planned!  

And so Katara didn’t even wait to be fully dressed in her street clothes before going up to Zuko, zipping up her light jacket.  He startled when she greeted him.  “Hey!  Uh, how’s it going?”

How’s it going?  Really, Katara?  You have more game than that.  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  But then again, I really don’t even know him as much as I know the back of his easel.

“Oh uh, hey,” Zuko scooted the easel to face the wall and neared her one a few short movements.  He shot her a lopsided smile.  Katara noted the brightness of his eyes.  “It’s going pretty good.  What about you?”  His movements didn’t go unnoticed and she aimed a pointed look at his easel before returning her eyes to him.

“Good,” she replied with a smile, tucking her hair behind her ears before offering her hand in a handshake.  “I’m Katara, the girl - or I guess - one of the girls you’ve been painting.”

Zuko took her hand and Katara noticed how warm his was.  It was also much more smooth than she thought it would be.  A little calloused and dry paint to the touch, but smooth.  “Hah yeah, nice to meet you.  I’m Zuko.”  He ran his other hand through his hair absentmindedly and got a spot of blue in his locks.  Katara giggled and pointed it out.

“You got a little…”  His eyes widened, then he looked down at his hand and rolled his eyes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, grabbing a cloth to wipe himself, small blush on his face.  “You would think I would be used to it by now after painting for so long.”

“Well don’t worry, I think blue actually kinda suits you,” Katara quipped.  The ghost of another smile passed over his lips before she continued on.  “From what your professor said it sounds like your painting’s going well!  I’ve been so curious to see it…”

Katara took a step towards the easel, and Zuko stepped in front of her with his hands up, sheepish grin on his face.  “Sorry, it’s practically done but I kinda have this thing about my subjects seeing a work in progress…”

“Oh, like bad luck or something?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow and crossing her arms, smirking up at him.  Boy, he was definitely taller than her.  And she couldn’t place the scent, but he smelled good even with a paint apron on.  Zuko thought a moment and shook his head, deliberately picking each word to answer.

“I want to keep my subject’s emotions as genuine and authentic as possible.  I’m still learning all this too, but in the past when I’ve had to practice, sometimes a person starts to think they should sit a certain way or have their face be a certain way.  But the thing I’m really starting to like about portraits is capturing who they really are in those moments, the small moments they let their guard down and let me into their world.  It’s my job to interpret that onto canvas.”  Zuko paused as Katara remained silent and laughed.  “That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud before.  Seems a little more weird than it sounded it my head.”

Katara shook her head.  “No, I don’t think it’s weird at all.  When you put it like that, it does make sense.  Every artist has their way of doing things, right?  So this is your thing.  I can respect that.”  She gave him a smile, softer this time, before turning away.  “I guess I just wish I could see it somehow when it’s done.”

Zuko hesitated as she began to talk to Suki, who had been talking to his classmate Ty Lee.  He just finally spoken to Katara and is that how he was going to leave it?  She was almost out of the classroom when he called out to her.

“Katara!”

The sound of a new voice calling her name made her turn quicker, to see Zuko making his way over to her and Suki.  Her friend shot her a look and actually took the cue to give her a little bit of space — though still listening intently.

“Thursday is the last day we’ll be doing this project, and after that we’ll be submitting to a panel.  If my work does get picked, how about we go to the art show together so I can tell you all about it.”  Katara noted it was as if Zuko had decided on something in the few moments between their conversation and now.  Even the last words he said weren’t really a question, more so a request.  She felt a flutter in her chest as she nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”  And Zuko’s smile widened.

A little over a week later, she arrived at the show to meet Zuko, who had been there early to set up.  Suki had bombarded her with questions about that black haired hottie after she made sure they exchanged numbers.  During the last session, Katara did her best to keep in mind what Zuko had said.  She just let herself be and stopped worrying.  She even exchanged a few smiles with the boy behind the canvas, a few jokes after class.

Not long after she sent the “I’m here” text, she heard him call her name.  I could get really get used to that.  “Hey, I’m glad you made it!”

“Of course, I wasn’t going to miss this!”  She really meant it and he gave her a lopsided grin, guiding her along with a hand barely brushing her back.  “I’ve been way too curious.”

“I’m sure you have been,” he replied, nervous once more.  He had never revealed his art to someone like this before and he wasn’t sure how it was going to go.  He brought her to a wall set up with the light focusing on the singular canvas displayed in this section.  “Here it is.”

Katara’s lips parted as her mouth dropped.  Suki and Jet were painted on the right and left sides of the canvas, respectively, and there she was in the middle and larger than the other two.  They were all full body in the frame but her’s was definitely the center.  Brilliant blues of all different shades surrounded all of them and it was almost as if they were windswept, or perhaps underwater would be the best way to describe it with how her hair floated around her.  She looked ethereal, she was glowing, she was happy, she was…Katara didn’t even know she could look like this.

Zuko stood next to her, waiting with bated breath.  Katara looked up at him almost speechless.  “How did you…get all of that from me just sitting there?”

Zuko shrugged and looked up at his painting.  “I guess…that’s just how I saw you.  That’s how you looked in my eyes.”

“Zuko, it’s…it’s beautiful.  It’s really lovely, and I don’t know much about art but everyone is so well done,” she managed to get out, finally coming down from her surprise.  Zuko looked down at her at his side and smirked.

“I couldn’t have done it without you to inspire me.”  Katara and blushed and mumbled something of gratitude and Zuko couldn’t help but think about how adorable she looked.  “So, what questions do you have?”

Thank you for reading!

#zutara #zutara week #zutara week 2020 #zutara fanfiction #writing #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #zuko #katara #counterpart

[vivithefolle]

I love your analysis about the Cho/Ron interaction, but I'm just curious as to how Harmionie shipping Quorans would respond to it if you post it there. Knowing them, they'd probably see it as more proof that Harmony works because "Look! Hermione doesn't care when Harry is tactless but she can't stop nagging Ron when he is tactless!" 🤣 Seriously, though. Hermione is WAY nicer to Harry than she is to Ron. Come to think of it, Hermione is nicer to most people than she is to Ron.

Aaaah, well that’s simply because Hermione is… awful.No, no, seriously, when Hermione is in love, she’s terrible. She can be a nice friend but when she’s in love with you she’s horrible. Especially since she’s a teenager.

Hermione is a prime example of a Tsundere.

The cute, blushy, giggling Hermione who flirts with [insert character here] and cries delicately when she’s rejected? Pure fanfiction. Canon Hermione keeps her love aggressively hidden behind countless iron walls, only letting it peek through when she’s absolutely sure the person she likes isn’t looking.

“How was practice?” asked Hermione rather coolly half an hour later, as Harry and Ron climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.“It was -” Harry began. “Completely lousy,” said Ron in a hollow voice, sinking into a chair beside Hermione. She looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt. - Order of the Phoenix

Rare footage of the Hermione Granger, scientific name Selfinsertus Overratedus, displaying interest in specimen of mighty fine hunk

Hermione isn’t sweet and tender and kind with the one she loves. At least, the teenage Hermione isn’t. She’s harsh, she’s disdainful and only gives out breadcrumbs of affection once in a while as part of the complicated mind game she’s playing.

You see, Hermione is never going to make the first move. You must be the one to ask her out, because she sure as hell ain’t going to do it for you.

This is due, I think, to the events of Goblet of Fire. Viktor Krum asks her out because Rowling absolutely wants Hermione to be the ugly duckling who transforms into the beautiful swan, so she brings in Cardboard Cutout With No Personality Aside From Being Famous to woo her self-insert.

Now Hermione has gotten the experience of being asked out, and being a rather socially awkward person who also hates being vulnerable - more on that later - well, now she just assumes that if someone asked her out once, then anyone who does like her can do the same.

Which is why she doesn’t realize that Ron is actually aware he loves her. There’s a big comedy of assumptions going on in Romione’s love story.

Hermione believes that Ron either 1) likes her but is oblivious to his own feelings and so she thinks she has to “give him hints” to make him realize it. Emphasized best by this exchange:

Hermione laughed.“Harry you’re worse than Ron… well, no, you’re not, “ she sighed, as Ron himself came stumping into the Hall splattered with mud and looking grumpy. “Look - you upset Cho when you said you were going to meet me, so she tried to make you jealous. It was her way of trying to find out how much you liked her.”“Is that what she was doing?” said Harry, as Ron dropped on to the bench opposite them and pulled every dish within reach towards him. “Well, wouldn’t it have been easier if she’d just asked me whether I liked her better than you?”“Girls don’t often ask questions like that,” said Hermione.

“I’ve sent him so many signals and yet he doesn’t notice. Woe is me!”

2) doesn’t actually likes her, but sees her just as a good mate or worse, as another sister.

Hermione keeps flip-flopping between her two assumptions throughout the series, all because of her biggest assumption: she thinks that if Ron was interested in her, he would ask her out. Because Viktor Krum was interested in her, and he asked her out, so why wouldn’t Ron do the same? They’re both boys and she’s a girl, after all. Isn’t that how it works?

This is also why Hermione’s “““invitation”““ to the Slug Club isn’t even an invitation - really, it’s worse than Ron’s invite to the Yule Ball, at least he was actually offering her to come:

“We’re allowed to bring guests,” said Hermione, […], “and I was going to ask you to come, but […] I won’t bother.”

“I was going to ask you to come but I won’t bother.”

This is literally what she said. It’s more of a “look Ron! An invite! If you’re good maybe I’ll think about letting you have it!” than anything else.

It’s because this is Hermione’s last resort. The ultimate humiliation. She has to resort to inviting Ron when in her mind, he’s supposed to be the one asking her out. He’s the boy! He’s supposed to do it!(And this is why I laugh at all the fools who claim that Hermione is the pinnacle of feminism. Seriously, the girl is more of a misogynist than any other character in the series.)

Hermione failed to take into account that Ron’s insecurity cripples him worse than she imagines, and that he copes with it differently than she copes with her own insecurities.

And this is the part where I explain about Hermione’s hatred of being vulnerable.

You see, I can relate quite a lot to Hermione - I see a lot of me in her, and a lot of people who hurt me in the past as well.

Bullied because she was an easy target, being the know-it-all and local teacher’s pet? Yep. Bullied for her appearance (I got braces when I was 8 and have been wearing glasses since I was a toddler, she had her bushy hair and buck teeth)? Can relate. Cried easily? Super check. Rule enforcer when the teachers weren’t around? Mega check.

And naturally, when you’re such a water fountain as I was, there’s nothing more humiliating than ending up crying in front of your bullies. You quickly learn that it will bring you nothing but more bullying. More humiliation. More vulnerability.

Hence why you start despising any form of vulnerability you find in yourself.

Obviously, being in love? That’s one of the most terrible things you can find yourself in when you’re afraid of being vulnerable. Because, oh god, your feelings are completely insane around the person. They make or ruin your day. You keep wanting to show them how cool / great / impressive you are, and you try desperately to mask all your little faults so they will hopefully return your feelings.

Given that Hermione is already not the most socially-aware battering ram in the knife drawer, she acts especially nasty to Ron, because she’s overcompensating for the vulnerability he makes her feel. And she most likely isn’t even aware of it! Forget Fanfic Hermione cringing as she realizes how mean she sounds, welcome Canon Hermione who just doubles down on a pointless argument just to drive home how totally in control she is and how Ron has absolutely zero effect on her, no siree!

In short: Hermione overthinks. She overthinks everything. She’s overthinking every of Ron’s actions, she’s assuming he’s either out to get her because she assumes he’s perfectly aware of her crush on him and he’s just toying with her (this is the very insecure, pessimistic Hermione speaking), she’s assuming he’s completely oblivious to her feelings and so she uses the ages-old technique of the “subtle hints” to make her feelings known to him (and fails miserably because she doesn’t want to put herself out there too much in case he rejects her, which would be the ultimate humiliation and the worst possible thing to happen to her, in her teenage girl mind), and she’s assuming he’ll never like her the way she likes him, all the while being woefully oblivious to the fact that Ron does want to be with her but she keeps sending him signals that she sees him as a troublesome child rather than a potential partner.

All in all, a teenage Hermione in love is utter torture. She’s her own worst enemy, and it’s only when she decides to let go of it all - of the mind games, of the distancing, of the passive-aggressive; of the overthinking - and just takes a chance that her efforts bear fruit.

There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.

(As much as I’m disillusioned with Romione, this kiss is still one of my favourite parts of the series. They mutually sweep each other off their feet for god’s sake, you wish your ship would.)

#ask #vivi answers #hermione granger #ron weasley #analysis #hp analysis #character analysis #harry potter #romione #shipping #hermione granger critical #hermione critical #ron x hermione #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

I always portrait Yoriichi as the sunshine version of Giyuu. Looks like an op character but actually a simple dumb-dork and also a big fan of his brother.

Tsugikuni Yoriichi x Reader (Domestic ModernAU)

Yoriichi is a professional in architecture, and you work as biology teacher.

You could say that he's that 'noble family but decided to take normal society path'. But it's actually not really dramatic, he just decided to stood with his own feet and building family from zero with you.

He has unique personality, people at his work really thought that he has undefeatable charismatic, competent, compassionate, kind, equitable, and decisive.

Pft.

You knew the real him and even if you bet ten thousand yen, people would never trust you, despite the fact that you're his wife. He just a dork for you and his brother.

We will soon know, how 'ridiculous' his true self will be.

In the morning, he always wakes up first but never woke you up. He said that he didn't has heart to wake you up when he saw your sleeping face. But sometimes, he'll wake you up if it's really late, which is not really helping.

You're the one who cooked breakfast, but sometimes he helped you but you always ended up tell him to sit back.

"The bacon is screaming", "You cook the child of its mother.", "Bread is just a floated wheat."

"Ok stop, let me handle this before you brought me to existential crisis."

You're the one who comb his hair, chose his suit, matched his necktie with the pin, and elses. He didn't suck at stylings, he just prefers you to do it instead of him.

You usually went to workplace with him, but sometimes if he's busy, you'll choose to ride the train.

His friends often invited him to have lunch at nearest restaurant but since you always made lunch for him, he didn't want to join them and eat your homemade lunch instead. His friends told him that he could ditch his wife's lunch but then he said,

"She made efforts in making this, I couldn't waste it."

But sometimes, you told him it's okay to go with them.

For some reason, Tokitou siblings at your school knew about Michikatsu and Yoriichi. You don't know why but every time you crossed with them, they always told you to be careful of Michikatsu.

But Michikatsu always being nice to both you and Yoriichi, so you just shrugged them off.

Both of you almost didn't have time to meet each other on daily days, so those 'lovely' moments in the drama often didn't happen on your daily life, but you satisfied with what are you now even after years being married. He still made sure to made you happy by buying you cakes, limited edition Pocky, various of KitKats and other foods when he came home.

Also, the main reason why you gained weight fast.

Sumiyoshi, Yoriichi's co-worker, often talked with you.

"(y/n)-san, Yoriichi-san really loves you more than anything else."

"Well... I'm his wife after all."

"Yes, I know! But I've never saw someone who really loves his wife from the bottom of their heart like this. He always brought your handmade handkerchief everywhere, set your photo in front of presentation slide as introduction, made a mini 'place' where he could place his keychains, manjuu doll, mochikororin, rubber straps, pins assembled with you as the model on his desk, plus-"

"Wait, Sumiyoshi-san. I'm concerned. He became an otaku me. I had to talk with him about this."

Yoriichi probably the smartest man in this country, but sometimes he forgot about 'common senses'.

"Hun, what are you doing?" You saw him looked in trouble.

"I'm trying to open the pen cap. It didn't work." He looked confused on the pen.

"Let me see."

"Here, if I can't, you can't-"

"....it's a ballpoint."

"..."

"You just spin it like-"

"I know."

"... sure."

Or when he didn't know how to use common things.

"(y/n), what is that?"

"It's vending machi- WAIT YOU DON'T KNOW VENDING MACHINE?" He shrugged.

"How to use it? Can you open the front glass like refrigerator do? Is it free?"

"No- Geez, you put the money, like this. And then-" You spend your evening to explain him on how to use a vending machine. He was amazed on how its work and how well you present it as what he called 'Future machine.'

"It's superb. We are one step ahead to the future. The distribution of drinks are easy now."

"I don't know why I'm married to you."

Dates? Do outdoor activities such hiking count as dating? The answer is yes, at least for both of you. You often went to the mountain with him for fishing at nearest lake. It wasn't far from your home, so you never complained.

While fishing, you sat on his lap and reading your book. He put his chin on your head.

"Wait, don't flip it yet, I haven't finish the 2 paragraphs."

"I thought you concentrate on the fishing?"

"I could do both task."

"Sure, King. Sure."

When you're lazy to prepare the picnics, he's fine with just staying at home and watched his favourite TV show with you beside him. You usually put your legs or your heads on his laps while doing something or simply watching the TV too.

"Ok, Quizzy Time! I have 2 questions and each answers had to be one and different. The last question will be your true wish!! Now, let's start!!"

Yoriichi slightly bended his body, eagerly focusing on the TV. You eyed him while playing with your phone.

'Is being cute legal for my husband.'

"Who is the person you wanted to protect most?"

"Big Brother."

"Who is the person you loved the most?"

"My wife."

You snorted.

"And last, if you had to choose one person between those two who will you choose?"

He started to sweat and looked at you. You looked at him while smiling, "Is there something bothering you, hun?"

"Uh, uhm-"

"Now, tell that person, you love them!!"

He fidgeted, looking at you again. You just wanted to bursting out laugh. He became panicked, between dilemma if he should call Michikatsu or tell you.

"(y/n), I know you're my wife, but-" He started to push his brother contact on his phone. "I also wanted him to know."

"Oh, so you choose him over me." You started to tease him.

"No! You got this wrong!!"

"Oh now you yell at me."

He became frustrated. Before he started to break down, you sat down and hugged him, "Haha, just kidding!! Don't sweat it, it's a dumb TV program- Oh my God, don't cry!!!"

Yoriichi didn't want you to be far away from him at home, especially when he did works. He will call your name and told you to stay in the same room with him. Even though his face didn't say too much, you immediately knew that he'll be sad if you're not there when he was at home. Like that one time.

Michikatsu was calling you when you're shopping for dinner.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. Uh, are you divorced with Yoriichi?" His statement made you dropped a can of tuna from your hand.

"What? No!! What do you mean?!"

"Yoriichi said it. He said that you leave him."

"I'm??? Going to the supermarket??"

"...I'm sorry, my brother is being a troublesome for you." He cut the phone.

When you're home, you found Yoriichi laid down on the sofa. You called his name, and he looked at you.

"I was being scolded by brother."

"Of course you are, geez." You sat beside him. "I'm just going for errands. I'm not ignoring or leaving you."

"You didn't leave message."

"I do, look at your phone."

"..."

You let out a long sigh, but then you hugged him. "Do you want me to stay when you did your work on your laptop?" He nodded.

"Fine, but help me with the dinner, and don't say anything. Just obey what I told you to do." He nodded again happily like a puppy.

He likes to spooning you. He always asked if he could kiss you even though you've been married for a long time. He's often saying that kissing you on your lips is really felt good, and became a little bit 'addicted' about it.

He didn't say much about himself, he never confide you how his feelings unless you asked him. But he loves to hear your stories about your works and students on random occasion like bathing, eating dinner, sitting on sofa, and even casual walks.

And do not start about how many times he said that he didn't deserve you when both of you are about to sleep and cuddling on bed.

"I am man of no wor-" You clasped both of his cheeks and pinched it.

"Say that again, and I will end your life for real."

"But I already end up with you."

"You have no rights to say negativity and flirting at the same time."

He probably had that unchanged expression on daily basis, but when you're by his side?

A content smile will always formed on his lips

#kimetsu no yaiba imagines #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu anime #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kny #kny x reader #kny imagine #kny imagines #kny headcanons #kny scenarios #tsugikuni yoriichi x reader #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader #tsugikuni yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni #kimetsu no yaiba yoriichi #kny yoriichi

[myhauntedsalem]

The Most Haunted Mirrors in the World

Since 6000 BC, mirrors have been a common object found in most households. Apart from photographs, mirrors enable us to truly see what we look like from an outsider’s perspective. But what happens when a mirror shows you more than just your reflection?

What happens if a mirror shows you something frightening? Something you were never meant to see?

Over the last few centuries, people have started collecting mirrors not just for the sake of practicality, but for décor around their houses. And every once in a while, a person may stumble upon a mirror that could be considered haunted.

Often times someone will claim a mirror is haunted as a means of making profit off sites such as eBay. But occasionally, a person may come across a piece of glass that is really and truly haunted.

1. Twisting Inversions

Years ago, while at a cookout with his family, a gentleman named Juan heard a chilling tale of a haunted mirror from his cousin in Vercruz, Mexico.

One day, Juan’s cousin and a friend of his were shopping in an antiques store when he came across a large Victorian style mirror. The mirror was incredibly ornate, with a brushed silver frame. Juan’s cousin was drawn to it immediately and asked the shop owner how much it cost.

The shop owner told him the price, but seemed a little edgy afterward. He told Juan’s cousin that if he wished to purchase the mirror that he must make sure that it is always covered by a heavy cloth after the sun goes down.

Juan’s cousin found the man to be a bit quirky, but nevertheless promised that he would do as the owner bid. He purchased the mirror and drove it home in the back of his truck.

He arrived home in the early evening. After he found a space on the wall of his bedroom to hang it, he admired his reflection for a few minutes, then promptly covered it with a bedsheet. He felt a little silly doing so, but the shop owner had been so adamant…

Dusk approached. Juan’s cousin was relaxing on the couch when he began to hear a steady knocking sound as though someone was at the door. However, no one was there.

Puzzled, he wandered through the house, tracking the noise until he got to his bedroom. Chills ran down his spine as he realized that the knocking sound was coming from within the mirror. Slowly, he grabbed the bedsheet by the corners and pulled it off the mirror.

Inside the mirror was his reflection, but a reflection that moved entirely on its own. Juan’s cousin watched in horror as his mirror self slowly knocked on the glass surface, an eerie, leering smile on its face.

He moved to cover the mirror back up, but his reflection somehow managed to grab him, and attempted to pull him into the mirror itself. This surreal violence had Juan’s cousin paralyzed with fear. He fought to free himself, but his reflection was too strong. He was partially pulled into the mirror.

His fear escalated ten times over when he peered around. Within the mirror he saw his bedroom, but everything was inverted backwards. Juan’s cousin began to pray, and only then did he find the strength to free himself from the mirror.

He fell to the floor and immediately ran out of the house. He ran down the street to his friend’s house and stayed there until morning, too terrified to return to his home. When the sun rose, he and his friend grabbed the mirror and burned it in a raging bonfire.

Since destroying the evil mirror, everything has, thankfully, returned to normal.

2. Scratches in Oil

A young man who goes by the name of Nooko once discovered a mirror in an abandoned building not far from his house. The building was strewn with various trash and broken furniture, and it seemed that the only thing that was in perfect condition was a small, square mirror he had found up against the wall.

Nooko was studying art at the time, and had been interested in painting on a glass surface for some time. He brought the mirror home with him, thinking it would be his next canvas.

He laid out a brand-new tarp, and arranged his oil paints on the floor of his bedroom. For hours, he worked on the mirror, adding stroke after stroke until at last he was finished. On the mirror’s surface was a portrait of himself.

Happy with this work, Nooko carefully closed up his paints and crawled into bed shortly after midnight. The following morning, he opened his eyes and recalled what he had done before. Looking to the mirror, he was shocked to see that it had been altered over the course of the night. His portrait was still drying on the surface, but through his face was a series of long, deep scratch marks.

Had he somehow missed these marks when he first picked up the mirror? No, he had cleaned the surface before he had started painting. Puzzled, Nooko looked around his room, trying to discern what could have made the scratches. All of his supplies were in the exact place they had been when he had fallen asleep. He didn’t have any pets or siblings, and his parents would have never destroyed one of his pieces.

In addition to the scratch marks, Nooko also noticed substantial tears in the tarp. He searched his room thoroughly, but he could not come up with any possible theories as to what had caused such destruction.

He was scared. After the portrait finished drying, Nooko took the mirror and placed it in the shed in his backyard. It remains there to this day. Whenever Nooko needs supplies out of the shed, he always feels extremely uncomfortable, as though something foreign and malicious is present.

He hasn’t look at mirrors quite the same way since.

3. Victorian Evil

When Sotiris Charlambous and Joseph Birch found a large Victorian mirror in the dumpster outside of their London flat, they thought they had hit the jackpot. The antique mirror was quite beautiful, with a thick walnut border. They believed it would look great hung up over the radiator in their apartment.

But not long after they hung the mirror up, strange things began to occur to both of them. Sotiris found himself suddenly waking up in the middle of the night with stabbing pains shooting through his entire body. Joseph, usually a very happy twenty-year-old student, found himself feeling incredibly depressed and void of energy

At first, neither of them made any correlation between their mental and physical symptoms with the mirror. That is, until Sotiris decided to paint the walnut frame a bright silver. After that, their problems only escalated.

Joseph began to experience the same sharp pains that Sotiris felt during the middle of the night. Objects began to go missing, such as keys and documents.

And that’s when Joseph started noticing strange movement coming from the mirror. It began one day when he was alone in the flat. He had been walking down the hall towards his bedroom when he caught movement in the mirror’s reflection out of his periphery. Dark shadows seemed to flicker and move on the glass surface, even when Joseph stood completely still.

The two friends confronted their landlord about the mirror and soon discovered that it had once been his. When they asked if he wanted the mirror back, he quickly shook his head.

“I don’t want anything to do with that mirror,” the landlord said.

It wasn’t long after that the nightmares began. Joseph feared being in the apartment by himself—he was certain that something malevolent was there with him, draining him of his happiness and energy.

Sotiris began to theorize that something awful had happened in front of the mirror, and it had somehow managed to absorb the negative energy from the event. He became convinced that someone had once been murdered in front of its glass surface, and now the mirror brought nothing but discomfort and despair wherever it was.

When the radiator and landline phone mysteriously stopped working, the two friends begrudgingly realized that their troubles were only going to escalate. They decided to put the mirror on Ebay, with full disclosure as to what had been happening to them.

The mirror has since gone to the highest bidder, and the two friends are certain that a feeling of lightness and hope as flooded into their apartment once more. They hope that whoever has the mirror now is well trained in the paranormal and will not experience what they endured while the Victorian mirror was in their home.

4. A Family of Spirits

Most people who have a deep interest in the paranormal have heard about the infamous Myrtles Plantation in St. Francisville, Louisiana. Built in 1796, the house has become known as being one of the most haunted historical locations in the south.

But what some people may not realize is that within the haunted house lays a haunted mirror.

In the hallway, across from the large wooden staircase is a large, rectangular mirror with a gilded gold frame. The mirror has been within the house for well over two centuries, and many eerie stories have surfaced about it.

According to one story, Sara Bradford Woodruff, who lived in the house, along with her husband and children, during the 1820s haunts the house, and is said to be permanently trapped inside the mirror.

Tourists who take their picture in front of the mirror often find strange anomalies in their photographs—creepy looking shadows, or an array of orbs. Some people even claim that they have seen fingerprints and silvery apparitions standing on the staircase reflected within the mirror’s surface.

Some people believe the mirror shows nothing but ordinary reflections, but there are countless accounts of believers and skeptics alike who have seen something paranormal in its ancient surface.

Today, the Myrtles Plantation is open to tours and also serves as a Bed and Breakfast. If you decide to visit, be sure to have your photograph taken in front of the mirror. But be warned—you may not like what you see.

5. Into the Black

Greg Newkirk has always had a profound interest in the paranormal. Over the years, he began to research and track down various objects that others had deemed as haunted. Once Greg had collected a sufficient number of items, he, along with his wife Dana, formed the Traveling Museum of the Paranormal & Occult. Essentially, Greg and his wife travel around the country and display their supernatural finds for anyone who is curious.

A couple years ago, Greg was contacted by a young woman about a small mirror with black glass. The woman, who wanted to remain anonymous, stated that her mother had acquired the mirror during a psychic expo. Her daughter thought nothing of the purchase until her mother began to act very withdrawn and subdued. When the young woman confronted her mother, her mother claimed that it was the mirror’s doing… that it was inherently evil.

Skeptical, the young woman took the mirror home with her, concerned over her mother’s mental health. Despite not believing what her mother had said about the dark mirror, nevertheless she found herself feeling oddly uncomfortable and uneasy in her home. After a few short days, she contacted Greg and donated the mirror to the traveling museum.

At first, Greg kept his distance from the mirror—not because he was frightened by it, but because he didn’t want to be disappointed if nothing paranormal occurred. Often times, the museum has supposedly haunted objects donated to it, but nothing strange ever actually occurs. However, since it was newly acquired, Greg brought it along for their next tour.

One their first stop in Pennsylvania, a woman immediately picked up the mirror and gazed at her reflection. Within seconds, she had grown extremely pale and had set the mirror down, hastening to cover it up with a piece of cloth. When Greg asked her what she had seen, the woman replied that she had seen her own corpse in the mirror’s reflection. The woman then stated that the mirror was dark in nature and that she needed to go pray.

Confused but excited by such an account, Greg made it a point to carefully observe anyone else who grabbed the mirror. Some individuals only saw their reflection…but others had much more ghastly things to report.

Another woman in a different location also claimed to have seen her corpse. One man, a supposed diehard skeptic, stated that he had seen his reflection but that it had turned around and had walked completely out of the frame. Another woman claimed that when she looked at her reflection, her mirror image had begun to whisper ,despite the fact that the woman herself never once opened her mouth while gazing into the mirror.

Greg and his wife continue to tour with the dark mirror, but the paranormal enthusiast admits that he keeps the mirror covered when it resides in their home. He avoids looking at the mirror at all costs. The mirror itself seems to want to draw Greg in, but he has always resisted gazing into the glass surface head on. He has become convinced that whatever the mirror wants to show him, it will not be pleasant.

#The Most Haunted Mirrors in the World #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

[astraeagreengrass]

The Queen’s Husband [2/?]

When her reign is threatened, the Queen of Ergona must find a husband to secure her throne.

Word Count: 1.791

Warnings: None! Just an anxious queen and a very good-looking Captain.

A/N: I had to split this chapter in two because it was getting too long (and now I feel like it’s too short 🤷🏻‍♀️), so this story will have more parts than I originally intended (maybe four or five instead of just three). And thank you so so so much to the lovely people who commented on the first chapter. It took a lot of courage for me to start writing again and post it online and I appreciate every one who took some time to let me know their thoughts! It means more to me than I can say. I hope you like part two ♡

Series Masterlit

My Masterlist

On a sunny summer morning, you asked Captain Steve Rogers to marry you.

He arrived three days after the council meeting. From a palace window you saw him dismount his black stallion, shield on his back, and make his way inside. He was still wearing his travel clothes when you met him in the courtyard.

"Your Grace" he curtsied when he spotted you.

With a nod you dismissed Wanda, your handmaid, and walked over to him.

"Please rise, Captain Rogers. Could I interest you in a walk in the gardens?" you asked. 

He quickly offered you his arm, apologizing for the lack of garb of his outfit.

"I was told you wanted to see me as soon as I arrived."

"Indeed" you answered, right hand on the crook of his left arm. The worn-out leather of his sleeve felt nice against your hand. "It is something of urgency."

He stopped, clear blue eyes suddenly attentive.

"What happened, Your Grace? How may I be of service?"

You pointed to a stone bench next to the roses - beautiful pink blossoms that were your mother's favorite. You sent a silent prayer to her spirit, wishing more than anything that she could be here to hold your hand as you defined your future. 

"My cousin Margaret has given birth to a son. The baby has a claim to the thrones of both Beathan and Ergona. As long as I am unmarried and childless my reign is threatened." 

Captain Rogers stilled. He was a very handsome man, with shaggy blonde hair curling around his ears. The full beard that adorned his face made him appear older than he actually was, but it probably worked on his advantage whilst amongst more seasoned military officers - he looked fierce and powerful, yet his gaze was kind. 

"You need a husband" he finally said. 

"Precisely” you gulped. The skin between his eyebrows was creased and, as the rest of him, the small imperfection looked like it was carved out of marble. Would it even soften if you caressed it with your thumb?

"I sent for you today because I would like you to consider becoming my husband and the King of Ergona" you said in such a rushed whisper anyone less attentive wouldn’t have heard.

But Steve did.

He rose so fast it startled you. Tall and imposing, Steve stared down at you, beautiful face twisted in shock and… Was he offended? 

"Is this some sort of joke?" he exclaimed running his hand through his face. "Did Tony put you up to this?" 

“What?” If you weren’t so confused by his reaction you’d be more insulted by the way he was scowling at you as if you were his opponent rather than his queen. “How dare you speak to me like this?” 

"Who told you of my affections?" Steve's voice was stern, clearly unfazed by your authority. You could suddenly picture him in the battlefield, strong and commanding. But that thought quickly vanished in the midst of your disorientation. 

"Your affections? To whom?" you questioned.

"To you of course!"

You gasped, lips opening in a perfectly shocked "O" shape.  

"You have… Affections… Towards me?" you stuttered, baffled.

"Of course! Of course I do, Y/N". He had lost all courtesy now, referring to you without your title. His hands gripped his hair furiously. “I honestly thought you knew!”

Oh.

"I… I had no idea" you stammered, shame flooding your veins faster than you could come up with an apology. "Captain Rogers, I'm sorry. This conversation should never have happened. Please forgive me.” 

You tried to rise from the stone bench, but Steve stood still in front of it, preventing you from escaping.

"Did you truly not know?" he asked, right eyebrow slightly raised in suspicion.  

“No!” you exclaimed. “And even if I did I would never poke fun of your feelings. What kind of person do you think I am?”

Steve sighed and dropped his head, ashamed. If you were an artist you’d paint him, shoulders slumped and hands on his narrow waist, Adonis himself personified in the soft summer light. 

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I was incredibly disrespectful.”

Something in his expression tugged at your heartstrings. 

“You don’t have to apologize” you whispered. “It must’ve been shocking for you. I just hope you believe me when I say I had no idea about your… Affections.”  

Heavens, why is it easier to to lead an army than have this conversation?

Steve looked up and you couldn’t tell if his eyes were green or blue. The air felt thick with embarrassment, even if there were no witnesses but the roses surrounding the courtyard. 

You thought he would finally make way for you to stand and leave – free to wallow in shame and self-pity – but Steve wasn’t done surprising you.

"Was I your first choice?" he asked. "To become your husband?

"Yes. The council suggested you but I wouldn't be here if I hadn't made the choice out of my own free will." 

"Considering I’ve already ignored every single courtesy and protocol, may I ask what willed you to make this choice?" 

It wasn’t an easy one, but then again, which decision from the past five years had been? You may have been desperate but you couldn’t afford to be anything less than rational. Fury was right: the news of Margaret’s son spread like wildfire, snuffing out any jubilation from the defeat of Zerbolia. You had purposefully averted any talk of marriage, hoping that the time would come when only you would be enough for Ergona, but it never did. Duty came knocking at your door sooner than you expected.

Proposing to Steve Rogers was a shot in the dark. Love wasn’t a luxury you could afford and you held no expectations this marriage would be anything other than a business transaction, but you could wish for safety. Knowing Steve’s character, it seemed unlikely he would turn out to be like your father. 

However, power changed people. 

You couldn’t say that you chose him out of hope - hope that he would be a good husband, a good king and a good father. Hope that a crown wouldn’t corrupt him as it did to so many others rulers before you, the dead kings and queens immortalized in fancy portraits and terrible deeds.

However, you should give him something. 

"You are a good man" you replied. “I’ve wondered about you and your motives constantly. You’re young yet incredibly respected and successful. Men have crowned themselves kings with less than what you have. But even so you’ve never threatened me or my reign. You’ve always been kind - the kindest, actually. Ruthless in battle but not cruel. Aware of others beneath you. Loved by all.”

“I kept waiting for the moment when you would betray me, revealing yourself to be just like every other men I’ve encountered in my life. But you never did, you were just nicer, friendlier, more trustworthy. And I don’t mean trustworthy as a Captain, but as a friend. I started seeing you as a friend and I have very few friends.” 

“And I thought: ‘If I must have a husband, then at least I hope he is a good man’. And you are the best man I know.” 

Steve took a step forward and kneeled. He was closer to you now than he ever had before - closer that anyone dared to be. His boldness was disconcerting and, in the back of your mind, you knew the right thing to do was to chastise him for being so forward. Instead, you let him take your left hand in his.

Steve kissed your ring finger, before cradling your palm to his face. His beard was surprisingly soft but his pillowy lips were softer as he lightly pressed them to your skin. Eyes closed and frown softened, he looked as if he had found peace with your touch. 

"I have loved you since you were eighteen” he said. “On your coronation day. You were so young but showed no fear as you walked by those old lords and ladies who all secretly wished you failed. Your head was held high and as you looked at nowhere but the throne sitting on the dais. I had never seen anyone more beautiful or more brave."

"I don't need to tell you that my father disapproves of my military career, this gossip has been well spread at Court. He is a proud Western man and it churns his stomach to see his son serve an Eastern queen. But if I am a good man it is because I serve a good queen and a good woman. Five years in your presence have assured me that there is no greater right in my life than the love and admiration I feel for you." 

Sometime during his speech, Steve’s voice turned husky and you blushed profusely. Not from the heat or from shame, but something different you'd never felt before. There was a fluttering in your stomach you couldn't place, but maybe, just maybe, you liked it. 

Looking up, he smiled, the stretch of his pink lips resembling a boy, not a warrior.

"I would be honored to become your husband, Your Grace. Nothing would make me happier." 

"Thank you" you whispered in relief. Anyone would tell you that it was unnecessary for a queen to thank a suitor - to thank anyone. But did this rule apply if the suitor was you?

Steve’s smile widened as his eyes sparkled with mirth. You amused him, and instead of annoying you, the realization just made the butterflies in your stomach flutter harder.

He lowered your hand on his face, but didn’t drop it, as he stood. His own palms were calloused where he gripped usually his sword but it didn’t bother you - they felt grounding, and reassuring: This is real. You’re not dreaming. 

You didn’t have to look to know you were being watched from nearly every palace window overlooking the courtyard. The queen wasn’t granted much privacy. Rising from the stone bench, hand still on Steve’s, you discreetly nodded towards the windows. He smirked and squeezed your hand.

One.

Two.

Three times. 

“I’m ready when you are” he said. 

Unsaid words left a bitter taste as they died on your tongue. You weren’t ready - would you ever be? You thought you were ready to be queen, but time showed you there was no preparing for all the frustrations you’ve encountered. On the secret corners of your mind you still felt like a child, anxiously looking at the adults surrounding you wondering what their next steps might be.

Marrying Steve was your own step. And for the first time in a long while, it felt like a hopeful one.

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