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redheadspark · 2 years

Note

For the baby prompts: Baby Person A just found out they’re pregnant. They wanted to plan a reveal for person B to surprise them, but as soon as they see person B, they’re just too excited and run to them yelling the good news before jumping into their arms

A/N: YAY for this one! Thanks for the prompt darling!!

Little Beam

You were nervous. Beyond nervous.

In fact, this was the most nervous you have ever been in your entire Eternal life.

You were staring at the dinner you prepared for you and your husband, knowing that he was going to be back within the next 5 minutes. He already called you saying he was on his way home from a job interview at the homeless shelter in town, a habit you both did for each other since you lived out in the middle of nowhere. The farmhouse was calm that night, the early dusk was coming over the home and inviting the warm summer that you knew was barely tolerable was creeping around the corner. Your fingers were tapping rapidly on the dining room table, your mind was set on the news that you were about to give Druig.

You were pregnant.

It was a surprise for sure, something you never saw coming for serval reasons. For one, you and Druig never planned for something like this in your new life together. You two were perfectly finding’s your little farmhouse, the peace and quiet was ideal. The nearest town that you got your supplies and food was almost 10 miles away, the main highway was only 3 miles out. Druig loved the quiet as much as you, thanks to your 500 years in the Amazon jungle. It was always just the pair of you, and although you two neither thought of each other as selfish or possessive, you still only needed each other.

Secondly, being an Eternal, you never thought it was possible being pregnant. Your anatomy maybe have been pretty close to a human, but you weren’t human 100%. Bearing children was the last thing on your mind, on any of your minds being on this planet. You were meant to protect the humans, not produce them. So to have those moments of throwing up in the bathroom throughout the night and constantly loosing your energy doing simple tasks, it made you wonder. Druig was worried too, wondering if you got sick and even asked you to talk to Sersi, even Phastos, to see what was going on.

So you did, and that’s when Phastos brought up the possibility.

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

“Is it possible?” You asked him on FaceTime, one day earlier when you were in town and found a cafe with Wifi. Druig was in another shop getting supplies, whereas you were talking to Phastos with some privacy, “Can we get pregnant?”

“I have no idea,” Phastos said in a shrug, “But I can only guess our biology was beyond close to a humans, almost nearly 99.9% similar. The only thing we have is the cosmic energy within our system. Maybe we can conceive and bear children, although I wouldn’t know personally,”

“Great joke, Phastos,” you grumbled, taking a long sip from your coffee.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. The first thing you need to do is figure out if you are pregnant, don’t just assume. Maybe you’re not, and it’s just a fluke. It happens all the time,” Phastos reassured you calmly, seeing that you were looking a bit nervous and scattered brained, “Secondly, if you are pregnant….do you think of it as a bad thing?”

It made you stop and stare at him with a shocked look. You never thought about that before, only with the nervous notion of being pregnant in general. That question made you wonder, would it truly be bad? Would it be terrible to have a child with someone you loved, with Druig? You both loved children, you always had since you stopped on this planet. You personally adored children and thought of them as pure gifts and blessings, filled with innocence and wonders. Druig was gentle with them, he loved talking with the children in your old village in the Amazon, lifting them high enough to grab hanging fruit from a tree, or just giving them piggyback rides throughout the village. You two were normal, peaceful, around children.

So would it be a crime to haven of your own? One that was a mixture of both.

“Just think about it,” Phastos said to him with a reassuring smile on his face as your smiled back, “Take a test and see what it says. Take it from there, I know you and Druig will figure it out together. And just so you know….we have your back. All of us love you two and we’ll be there, got it?”

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

After you ended your call with Phastos, you went to the drugstore and got a pregnancy test pack. Those 60 seconds were the longest 60 seconds of your life.

You when you found out you were pregnant after three tests, you were filled with so many things in your head and in your heart. So many thoughts were rushing back and forth, making you sit on the toilet and hang your head in your hands as you placed the tests with the two lines on the bathroom counter.

Was this what you two wanted, or needed in your life? You were at the farmhouse together a little over 3 weeks, 3 weeks of a normal life that you two always wanted and craved since you got together on Earth. Having another person there between the pair of you would be a hiccup on your rhythm. It would be a challenge to have a baby, let alone raise one. You saw the struggle and stress of raising baby plenty of times in the past, the huge responsibility on bringing a being in the world was massive.

Yet again, on the other end, you couldn’t help but smile with the thought of having a baby with Druig. A small baby that had the appearance of Druig, or even of you. Maybe the pair of you mixed together on the face and within the cheeks. You could almost picture a baby in your arms, soft skin against yours with long eyelashes and with Druig’s dark hair that was so unique and perfectly highlighted.

It would be a fever dream to have a baby with him, your own baby to love on and cherish. Would Druig want the same?

You heard the front door unlock and open, having you straightened up a bit at the small kitchen table as his heavy boots were heard on the hardwood floor. You heart was beating so fast and you could feel your palms sweating.

“Hey babe!” Druid called from the living room, shuffling out of his leather jacket as you were taking a few deep breaths. You already recited what you were going to say to him, how you were going to say it. You tried to picture Druig’s face when you would tell him he was going to be a father. Would he be angry? Or even shocked. Well he was going to be shocked, since you knew deep down that he too was going to be surprised that an Eternal could get pregnant.

“Hey!” You said from your spot at the kitchen, still trying to psych yourself up a bit as you took in a few more breaths, “How did it go?”

“Aye, it went great! I think they like me down at the homeless shelter and they’re gonna consider me as one of the new mangers there,” Druig explained, still out in the living room and walking around the area, “The guys who runs it is nice, you’d like him. His assistant is a bit tough though, but I can win her over with my charm,”

You chuckled, feeling a flutter in your chest as you looked down at your lower stomach. Your anxiety was almost melted away from seeing your stomach, the small curve you already had there because of your curvy physique, but it was tough. There was a small light within there, a little beam, ready to grow and bring joy into your life. That fear you had moments before, mere moments before, it was long gone. All you had within your bones was excitement and joy, not to mention anticipation.

Yet most importantly, you were in love with this baby already. You loved it more than anything else, anyone else, on this planet and with all your Eternal being. It was settled in your soul and in your mind that you were going to have this baby, to birth this baby, and to hold it close in your arms like a precious gem or mineral. Although it was so early, you were beyond ready to meet that little being within you and love it with all your heart.

“Makkari wants to FaceTime tomorrow to go over her visit when she comes with Thena tomorrow night. Apparently they’re not finding any other Eternals yet and they’re getting a bit bored out there in space—“ Druig kept talking as you were moving without even realizing it. It was bubbling up inside to tell him, it was bursting through the seams of your restraint as you finally made it to the archway that looked into the living room. You froze, seeing Druig there ruffling his hair and shuffling through something in his backpack that he would take with him everywhere.

He looked beautiful, the farmhouse giving off the image of peace on his face and in his body language. You could tell he enjoyed the quiet life, and it was suiting him well as you saw him stare up at you, the restraint was no longer there. HIs eyes hit yours, the blue that you were instantly seeing your unborn child inheriting made you no longer able to hold it in.

“Hey,” he said in a slow tone, seeing how you were standing in a stiff notion in the archway of the kitchen, “You okay?”

You nodded frantically, grinning from ear to ear as you felt tears hitting your cheeks. The emotions were coming through you and all over you like a wave in the ocean, the same waves on the beach where the Emergence was almost held, and where you thought Druig was murdered like Ikaris. You had a split moment of heartache and heartbreak, thinking that Druig was gone from your life. The sounds of the waves folded dyer mind, reminding you that time was moving on with or without you.

Yet you saw him walk back to you, back into your life. Love blossomed then as you embraced him, and it was just the same in your farmhouse.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Druig asked, seeing the tears on your face. You said nothing, still smiling with the tears on your cheeks as you rushed over to him. You had your arms around him, holding him close as he was stunned for a moment. He finally reached his arms around you, holding you close to his body. You must have confused him, smiling and yet in tears as you were hugging him and embracing him. But then he froze for a split second, realizing how you were hugging him. You held him this same way back on the beach when you reunited, your arms around him and against his skin to make sure he was alive and he was present. It was a deep rooted hug, a hug embedded in love and devotion to one another.

This was just the same as you spoke into his ear.

“I’m pregnant,”

You couldn’t stop it from coming out, nor did you want to. It was out there hanging between the pair of you. The way Druig’s stance was stiff in your hold You had a very split second of panic, maybe thinking it wasn’t a great idea to tell him. Or maybe you thought he was going to reject the thought of you two having a baby.

Druig pulled away, searching your face and you saw the initial shock etched all over his face. You just nodded at him once, silently telling him that it was true. His eyes were so bright in the light of the room, but they were even brighter from what you just told him. Giving him the news that he was about to be a father, it scared you in wondering how he was going to react.

But he beamed. His grin was so massive that you thought it took his entire face.

He lifted you in his arms and swung you around the room, you clinging onto him and giggling as he embraced you in your home. You heart was growing even bigger now to see and feel how he took the news, how he loved the news, and how he was beyond ecstatic. Those fears you had about telling him were already dwindling before you even said it, but now they were just mist in the wind.

“Wait wait!” He said in a rush, finally placing you back on your feet and giving you a look over really quickly. You saw the happiness on his face, how there was so real sense of dread or remorse there when he took the news, “Are…are you sure you’re pregnant?”

“If those three tests are fake then I’m pissed,” You hummed back, seeing his grin back on his face as he framed your face within his hands, his fingers grazing you jawline with intimacy and love there in his touch as his eyes searched yours with pure joy in his orbs. He leaned forward, your foreheads touching and almost nuzzling into one another as you two were basking in the new change in your life.

“We’re havin’ a baby,” he said in a breath, you grinning widely with fresh tears on your face. Druig moved each one away with his fingers while his eyes poured into yours. You saw his love there, you saw how this moved him inside and out. All you could do was look to the future with him, holding onto him for dear life you two were about to be parents.

He started to kiss you then, you kissing him back just as soundly and soothingly because you two were just hung over the moon with the news. Ye you felt him move his arms to go around your waist, pulling you in a bit closer as his kisses were getting warmer, more possessive, and deeper.

“I…I made us….dinner,” You tried to say against his lips, but he was pushing kiss after kiss against your lips and then down your neck as his arms were pulling up in tighter. Druig was a affectionate and passionate lover, and you could feel the signs in where this was going. You had centuries of being with Druig to know what kisses he would use against your that would lead to something more. HIs gentle kisses were simply affectionate, yet his deeper and darker kisses lead to something else that was just the pair of your and your bed.

“I have something else I want to devour at the moment,” He groaned against your neck, you giggled as he carried the pair of you up to your room. You could only live in that moment with Druig, the love of your life.

Your future was going to be a bit brighter now, and you both were willing to be blinded by it.

The End.

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A/N: Please send me more prompts for Dad Druig! I wanna write more of them!

Tagging: @a-lumos-in-the-nox @heartofwritiing

#druig #druig x reader #druig x oc #druig x female reader #daddy druig #dad!druig #eternals fanfiction #barry keoghan fanfic #barry keoghan

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chemicalpink · 3 years

Text

☾✧゜BTS Tarot Reading: a peek into their S/O energy ☾✧゜

Pairing: none, this is a tarot/oracle reading.

A/N: I used the divine feminine deck for this reading. Please do remember that every tarot reader’s relationship with their decks are unique thus it may vary the interpretation of the cards. This reading is for entertainment purposes only; the energy channeled may refer to a present or future partner. Whatever outcomes of the reading doesn’t mean ultimate truth and we should really respect the member’s dating life as fans.

Kim Seokjin ☾✧゜

Mai Bhago: resources; warrior.

So i feel like this is someone that might have to fight for him

Someone that will stop at nothing to get him to open up.

Cause I mean sure, either way, Jin is so far up in the ‘people that will never be your boyfriend’ list with the way that BTS has grown but I feel like this is so much more than that.

I feel like

It’s not hard to get close to him, but it is hard to get him to open up to the idea of someone loving him for him and not for what he’s accomplished.

idk if that makes sense (?

Lakshmi: abundance

As soon as I laid eyes on this card I got the idea of someone with all that bread.

Not sure if it is inherited wealth/ wealthy family or self made

But definitely someone that has the necessary resources to live comfortably

And also this adds up to them being able to make Jin open up

Cause they are definitely not using him for money.

Which is a big relief for him.

Rita of Cascia: impossible causes.

Definitely someone that doesn’t run on the same circles as him.

I thought: hmmm maybe a fan (?

Or possibly someone that doesn’t necessarily has the time to date

But most definitely has the intention to love Seokjin with all their strength.

Min Yoongi ☾✧゜

Rita of Cascia: impossible causes

Hello we meet again.

But with a diferent connotation.

This is someone whos strong will puts us all to shame

Like really

Someone that gets their mind on something and will most definitely get it.

Very in tune with Yoongi’s energy.

Lalla: spoken words

I feel like this is someone that has gone through their life trying to heal

And succeeding

“I am the writer of my own story”

Some one that doesn’t fit into the ‘traditional’ way that they are supposed to live.

VERY straightforward.

I also thought of someone spiritual, a manifester of sorts.

Kali: mother of the universe.

LISTEN I’ve said how this one is someone non traditional

Now hear me out

I saw this card and thought well we are looking at someone not gender conforming.

I can even go as far as say that is is someone part of the LGBTQ+ community.

“It’s time to be the truth of who I am”

If you put 2 and 2 together, I can say that this is a healing presence for Yoongi, someone that will make him tune in into what he really likes, who he is.

Jung Hoseok ☾✧゜

Lalita: happiness

This made me so soft

Sunshine got his own sunshine

“Laughter leads me back to the light”

Very positive vibes for this one

One of those people that is impossible not to like

Just like him

Sarada Devi

“The presence of love is the absence of judgement”

This is definitely someone open-minded

In many ways

Someone that has no trouble with Hobi’s way of life

As in

He had to cancel last minute because there’s this thing at the studio? Sure no problem.

They don’t doubt one bit his love and devotion

And understands that they are not walking the same path

But rather walking each of their paths together.

Vajrayogini: liberation

A carefree soul

I feel like this someone is helping Hoseok feel free again

As in

Don’t get him wrong he loves doing what he does but sometimes your career ties you down

But all of those are gone with them.

A fourth card popped up: Mary Magdalene

Along with all those things, this someone is someone very down to Earth

They know where they stand

None of that getting their head get full of it for dating Hoseok

They are themselves and will stay themselves no matter what.

Kim Namjoon ☾✧゜

Marguerite Porete: mystic

Right off the bat, a soulmate connection

I’ll have to say soul family at least

A very divine love

Not like codependent but very very into each other

Shekinah

I feel like most probably this is a female, or someone that identifies as such

Also

Namjoon president? very much so

This is someone important

I see power

In like- a position wise type of way

I’ll go as far as to say a diplomat cause it’s what comes to mind

Or a business executive

Someone well respected within their own little world

Definitely someone Joon looks up to

Rita of Cascia: impossibles

What’s with these boys and this card

So again, I’m sensing fan or just someone that is not a celebrity

Public figure? sure

But like I said, they run just within their own circle

It also came to mind: foreigner

So yeah, i endorse my thought of a diplomat.

Park Jimin ☾✧゜

The Cosmic Egg

Listen I’m not surprised to get such a card from this man

This is indeed a soulmate connection

Also, filled with lots of love

But mostly like- demonstrations of love

I don’t wanna say they’re that couple full of PDA

but it’s what comes to mind

Teresa of Avila

DO NOT QUOTE ME ON THIS OKAY

But I feel like this is an already existing relationship

they keep to themselves

a very NON PUBLIC relationship

I feel like they don’t feel the need to announce it to make it more real

They vibin’

a very soft and chill connection tbh

Machig Labdron

So I feel like these two have known each other for long

This is someone that Jimin has helped through hard times

Chimchim is a healer within so I sense that he has helped them

“I see light in my own darkness”

Also I feel like they’ve had a troubled past that has turned into love

Jimin was the light that helped them see their true lovable self.

Kim Taehyung ☾✧゜

Mira Bai: true freedom

Okay so this is someone VERY independent

Although they love Tae to death, they know to love themselves first

I can see Tae being a bit intimidated by this way of thinking at first

But learn later that this is his type of person

Yeshe Tsogyal

It came to mind an academic

Whether it is a teacher or an investigator

That academia vibe

A true intellectual

Very curious about life and averything that surrounds them

Just like Tae

Tae most likely learns A LOT from this relationship

And is very fascinated by their brain

Kali

“I release all that doesn’t serve me”

This someone knows what they want

And there is just no way around it

Like the first card said, they love Tae but life plans are life plans

Someone that loves to walk their own path

A very grown-up vibe to them

And listen I don’t wanna fall into daddy/mommy issues

really

But I’m gonna go ahead and say this is some type of inner child healing for Tae

Two very similar POVs but with SO DIFFERENT perspectives

Both curious, but Tae’s comes from a child-like place whereas his s/o views it as something greater, the purpose of the universe type of way.

Jeon Jungkook ☾✧゜

Sehknet

This card was very straightforward with the message

Someone that has been through shit

Jungkook is their well-deserved break at all the trials that the universe has put them through.

“I am pure strength”

I also feel like this is someone that tends to be an avid activist

VERY VERY passionate

and definitely tired of everyone’s bullshit

an old soul, VERY VERY OLD

“I honor my anger by giving voice to it”

Pope Joan

WHEN I TELL U

this is someone spiritual to the BONE

“Soul is limitless”

I got the ‘I will turn the world upside down to find you’ vibe too

They know Jungkook is their person

And honestly? They are thriving to just watch how the universe is trying to apologize to them by putting Jungkook on their path

Someone very wise, more so in the sense of life than academic type

Parvati

THIS IS A PAST LIFE CONNECTION

like- really really had it coming for both of them

“I am a love that doesn’t leave”

They are also very very committed to this connection

They put their 110% spiritual self on this

I sensed the ‘healer meets healer’ type of connection once they meet

Also

Since this is a very old soul I feel like their soul journey is almost over and Jungkook is kind of a legacy for their learnings.

As always I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to request any other general tarot reading! Have a great day! I promise I’m working on all my other requests, this reading just suddenly came to me and i just had to do it.

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #btswriterscollective #bts tarot #bts astrology #bts tarot reading #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts headcanon #bts scenarios

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justkending · 3 years

Text

Moral of The Story. Chapter One.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of an old love all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Ok, here is the first chapter! If you have not already listened to the song that evoked this idea from my imagination land, I suggest giving it a go! Moral of the Story by Ashe. I’m excited for you guys to see what this story brings and I really hope I do it justice! As always, comments and thoughts are welcome as they help me grow as a writer and let me see what you guys notice:) ENJOY MY LOVES!!! <3

(The posting will be once every other day until I have finished the series. If I finish early, I will post an update once a day:)

Read the Prologue here first!

Chapter One:

"You already got the flight?" Nat asked, perched on Y/N's couch as she ran around frantically packing. "Don't you have a huge meeting next week with that new business? What was it called? Bee's Knees?"

"Yes, but it's not until Monday evening. I highly doubt I will be there longer than a weekend to sign a few divorce papers. I'm planning on coming back early that afternoon, so I shouldn't miss it," she answered, not even stopping to look at her as she ran through the rooms and bathroom in the apartment.

"How soon did you book that flight?"

"As soon as I hung up the phone with Murdock," Y/N sighed. Nat sent her a questioning look not knowing that name. "New lawyer. The guy who took over for the sleazeball known as Justin Hammer," she rolled her eyes.

"Right," Nat nodded. "So, are you staying at your dad's house?"

"I would take my dad's house over my mom and Jerry's any day. You know this," Y/N paused in her actions, sending her a bitch face.

"I know. Just didn't know if you'd be all fancy and rent a hotel room to escape the smothering that is bound to happen from good ol' Mr. Y/L/N," Nat grinned.

"It's been so long since I've seen him not via facetime. And we both know that's barely seeing him as he doesn't know where the camera is even after a hundred calls," she laughed.

"Parents. Either they're technologically challenged or know how to work it better than us. Never in between and it's weird." Nat watched as Y/N froze in her stance and looked lost trying to think of something else to pack. Deciding she needed a distraction, Nat changed the subject some. "Hey, did you get Melody to go on that date tomorrow?"

"Yes!" Y/N answered proudly. "I know your aunt wants grandbabies from her daughter, but that girl just needs a night on the town more than anything. She's in her early 20's and holes herself up at the office almost more than I do, and I'm the boss."

"Cousin's got my work ethic. What can I say?" Nat shrugged smugly.

"Well, she needs to get your spirit in living some too."

"Touche," Nat pointed. "I need to have Yelena take her out. She's the real party sister out of us two."

"That is true. How she's able to party for 48 hours straight and still wake up at 8 am for mimosas, blows my mind," Y/N commented on Natasha's younger sister. "She's only a few years older than Melody, right?"

"Yeah, Yelena is 24, and Melody is 22. They were best of friends growing up, but once they got to high school, they kinda went different routes about life. Lana, the party gal, and Mel the studious bookworm."

"I'm not surprised by either of those," Y/N shook her head before collapsing next to Nat on the couch. A loud breath and sigh escaped her body.

Nat watched as her mind escaped back to the original issue at hand.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Y/N/N?" she said, softly touching her shoulder. "Not that I don't already know, but maybe letting it out will help unscramble those thoughts."

Y/N lazily rolled her head to the redhead next to her.

"How is he?" she asked.

Nat was a part of their friend group from middle school through high school. She kept up with all of them still, whereas Y/N kept up with all of them except one.

"I actually haven't talked to him in a while. Steve on the other hand..." Nat nodded. "From that source, it sounds like Barnes is just as surprised and freaked out as you."

"He's freaked out?" Y/N asked, a hint of interest peeking out.

"Who wouldn't be? You get a call from a lawyer saying your marriage is still intact after 9 years of breaking it off, I would be freaked out too."

"He deserves it. I hope he's just as freaked out as me, if not more," she responded bitterly, crossing her arms across her chest like a pouting child.

"Y/N," Nat sighed.

"No. Don't. Don't defend him to me, it's pointless," she put up a hand. "I know you're still friends with him, but you guys still don't understand the pain that that man brought on me."

"He fought for you, Y/N. He didn't mean-," Nat countered.

"Again, you're wasting your breath. Defending him now does nothing to change the past," she said stubbornly, getting back up and carrying on with her packing. "You can still take me to the airport tomorrow, right?"

Her best friend wanted to keep pushing, knowing she had harbored this heartbreak for too long. Sure what had happened between them sucked and was a horrible chapter of their lives, but neither made an effort to talk it out and understand the other's side of the story. Faults of being young, immature, and not knowing how to handle a grown-up decision.

"Yes, I'll pick you up at work at 10. Flights at 11:25, right?"

"Yes, and you know California traffic. That will probably get me there 10 minutes before my gate closes. I had to get an early flight though because that time difference is going to kick my ass. It'll be close to 5:30 in my head and 8:30 there by the time I land... " Y/N huffed, rolling her bag to the front door for tomorrow. "You mind taking this tonight and keeping it in your car for now? That way I don't have to lug it to work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll grab it on my way out. But we're still having a girl's night, right?"

Y/N laughed some before going to the kitchen to grab beers. "I Survived is already recorded and ready for us."

___________________

"Shit man... When's the last time you talked to her?" Steve asked, sitting across from his best friend in the chair diagonal from the couch, leaning forward on his knees after listening to the new news.

"Since I was supposedly signing our divorce papers. And even then, we didn't really talk. She sat there quietly straight-faced until it was signed and then rushed out the doors," Bucky sighed, still trying to wrap his head around the situation. "She was out of the state within the next hour."

Steve nodded before falling back into the single seat.

"So, do you guys have to see each other again, or is it one of those situations where you can sign separately?"

"I don't know. I just got off the phone. All I know up to this second is that Y/N and I have been married for the past 9 years without knowing it," Bucky said somewhat harshly. Steve didn't flinch at the tone knowing it wasn't directed at him. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't wrap my mind around this."

"It's ok. This is crazy shit, Buck," Steve waved off. There was a long pause before Steve decided to ask the question he was sure anyone would want to know. "Do you want to see her?"

Bucky slowly looked over to the blonde. God, he had been asking himself that question for the past 10 minutes himself.

On one end, yes. He wondered where she was now in life. How she was doing. What accomplishments he knew she would be making. He knew a few small things just by the whispers and small talk of her with their shared friend group that he still hung out with, but a majority of the time, they didn't bring her up around him. They knew what it did to him.

On the other end, he never thought about facing her again. I mean maybe for the year after their divorce, but when he never heard anything back from her all those times he still tried to reach out and she blocked him on almost all forms of social media, he gave up any hope of them falling back into good terms again. He hated it, but he wasn't going to push her when she clearly hated his guts.

And honestly, he deserved it. His young, stupid, college self was not a smart guy when it came to relationships. Even ones that had been there from the beginning of time practically.

Yet again, she wasn't perfect either. She made some mistakes of her own that pushed him to act the way he had.

"Hey, you both are older and more mature now. I'm sure you if you guys do have to see each other again, you can handle it like adults," Steve reassured, seeing Bucky's face turn to a soft frown. "Ok, so she may be a little stubborn..."

"A little?"

"Ok, a lot. But she's older now. She's not the 19-year-old girl that you remember," Steve defended.

"I believe that but I'm sure she still holds a grudge that is very, very, very, very-," Bucky was going to go on about 10 more very's before ending with BIG, but Steve cut him off.

"You don't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Really? Because usually when you no longer hold a grudge against someone, you might just reach out to that person and reconnect possibly," Bucky argued. "I mean that's what mature people do, right?"

"Not always..."

"So she's either not mature or still just as stubborn. Hell, for all we know, both," Bucky shrugged, pursing his lips.

"If you go into this with that mindset, nothing good is going to come out of it." Steve pointed an eyebrow at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes not replying to Steve. He knew he was right, but he was still bitter after all these years about how Y/N handled the situation. Sure, he messed up, but she had to. Yet she made him into this big bad wolf that was at 100% fault in the downfall of their relationship. It made him feel like shit, and though he tried to make amends knowing he did some fucked up things, she acted like she was Miss Perfect and didn't do anything wrong the entire time.

Damn, even after all this time, it still lit a fire in his chest with annoyance and hurt.

"When's the meeting?" Steve once again interrupted his thoughts.

"I guess Saturday morning. They said they were coming in on their off hours to fix up a few cases they found like ours," Bucky answered.

"How many cases were there?"

"Eh, I think he said it was single digits, but there were a shit ton of other cases in different areas that were worse off. The divorce ones are a small number compared to those."

"Damn. That sucks for all the couples who got a call today then," Steve huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Yeah, you're telling me..."

"Hey, we were going out with Wanda and Vis tonight. You still up for that, or...?" Steve stood up.

Bucky looked back at the beer on the coffee table and then at the TV still playing I Survived stories quietly in the background.

"You know what? I'm going to need a stronger drink than an IPA to get me to sleep tonight," Bucky nodded, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans before walking to his room.

"Looks like I'm the DD tonight then..." Steve sighed.

___________

"Vis," Wanda motioned to her fiance as he came back from the bar. "Nat just texted."

"About what? How is she?" Vis smiled as he sat next to her with Sam across from him. Sam tagged along at the last second since his other plans got canceled.

"She's good, but it's not about her," Wanda waved off, still reading whatever lengthy text was sent her way.

"Wow, that looks like a novel," Vis noticed with wide eyes as he looked over her shoulder.

"Wait 'til you hear what it's about."

Sam shook his head as he took a sip of the beer Vis had brought over.

After reading the rest of the text out loud from where she had left off, everyone at the table looked at each other with shock ridden faces.

"They're still married?" Vis said softly as if it was a secret.

"Apparently..." Wanda nodded with wide eyes.

"So that Hammer guy was a sham?" Sam questioned.

"I told her not to go to him. He had some shady hole in the wall kind of establishment," Wanda chided. "But she said they needed something cheap and fast. She hated his guts and wanted it out of it then and there. Plus, they were 19. They didn't have much money anyway."

"Why didn't they just ask their parents for help?" Sam questioned. "Isn't Y/N's mom loaded?"

"Yes, but she refused to help her. She said it was her own fault for getting married so young and that she had warned her. Told her she had to get out of the mess on her own," Wanda answered.

"What about her dad?" Vis jumped in.

"Bucky and her dad were close. She was off in Colorado for school and didn't want to put her dad through that or make him have to help her in cutting him off. Bucky was like the son he never had and they were bonded at the hip. No matter how much Y/N hated Bucky, she wasn't going to ruin or take away his relationship with her father. That would have been cruel, and Y/N is anything but that."

"Weren't Bucky's and Y/N's dad's best friends?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, they were old-time war buddies. They're the reason Bucky and Y/N had known each other since birth. But Bucky's dad died when he was about 13, and Y/N's dad, Thomas, kinda took him under his wing. Growing up a teenage boy without a father figure messes with you, and Bucky was on the edge of a bad path after losing his father."

"He's still rather close with Thomas, but I'm sure Y/N doesn't know that. Unless Thomas has said something, and with how everything came to an end for the two, I'm sure he doesn't bring it up knowing how tender of a subject Bucky is to her," Vis added.

"Makes sense..." Sam nodded. "I only knew you all from the start of college, so I'm still a little lost in all the beginning stuff."

"All good. It's complicated with those two. Their past and upbringing are so interconnected with the other, it makes their downfall all the more intense and messy," Wanda sighed. "God, if this is the news, he's going to be a wreck tonight..." She looked up worriedly at her fiance who shared the same concerns.

"It could go two ways. Either he comes in all solemn and says three words all night, or Steve's going to be the DD and he's waking up with a head-busting hangover," Sam noted with a small grin at the thought. "I'm going to go with the latter though."

"Poor guy," Wanda sighed, taking a drink with a sad face. Ever the sympathetic one.

"We'll be here to listen if he wants to talk. If not, we act like we have no idea and don't bring it up," Vision spoke up, throwing his arm over her and running his hand up and down her shoulder.

"I'm going to tease him still most likely," Sam shrugged nonchalantly. Wanda sent him a warning glare. "Fine, mama bear! I'll be nice... Until he starts making a fool of himself." He added the last part quietly.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia

#bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes x reader #justkending series #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes modern series #bucky barnes au series #bucky barnes highschool #bucky barnes x highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes highschool sweetheart #bucky barnes x reader insert #reader insert #marvel #marvel au #marvel au series #justkending

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sugadaily · 3 years

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On tvN’s You Quiz on the Block, SUGA told stories from before his debut. The period of his life when he struggled with how to live off his music. SUGA and BTS have kept going and going for eight years, and now he’s on their grounds, where he can do anything he wants musically. What began with that long journey is the story of SUGA holding his head up higher and staring at the future, reaching for it.

How are you feeling after your shoulder surgery? You’re doing physical therapy in parallel with work. SUGA: I’m all right. I’m keeping up with the physical therapy, too. I had surgery last year because I wanted to be able to go back to work sooner. I have nothing else to do except music.

You said that there’s nothing for you to do other than music in the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, too. SUGA: It’s true. I tried gaming, but I have no talent for it. The people I play with online get so frustrated if I do. I mean, I’m working hard and got some recognition in my life, and yet people bash me so hard in games. (laughs)

I wonder if there’s a game you can do better in than you do in your career. You’re currently at your sixth week at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 [with “Butter, at the time of this interview]. (laughs) How are you feeling these days? SUGA: When we were at number one for two weeks straight, I was like, Wow, this is so amazing! But after the fifth or sixth week, we really started to talk about it between ourselves: I really can’t believe this. Anyway, I feel like I have a responsibility. And I think I’ll end up thinking much, much more when we get ready for the next promotion. Even if I just try to enjoy this situation, it hasn’t sunk in. We can’t leave the country, plus there’s lots of issues in the world right now that are much more important than how well we perform on the charts.

As you say, it’s a tough situation, all over the world. How do you feel about releasing “Permission to Dance,” with its positive message, at this point in time? SUGA: It seems like everyone around the world is really tired of this situation dragging out. I wanted to convey a message that tells people to keep hanging on to hope until the very end. Whereas we released the album BE in this situation, seemingly without any certainty, I believe things will slowly get better now. I don’t know if we can go back to the way things were before, but I’m still working with the hope that we can return to a situation that resembles what we had before.

Aren’t you tired of the pandemic being in this prolonged state? SUGA: I look at it as, when you lose one thing, you gain another. I ended up being able to see my family more since I’m in Korea. In that sense, I feel more stable, so I’m not so much tired as hoping each day that things will become okay soon. I keep moving back and forth between work and home, and I’ve started to reflect on parts of myself I didn’t know about before. Like that I feel somewhat comfortable when I start and finish work at a certain time. While I used to have to go to bed at a certain time for work the next day or else I had a hard time getting up early, now I know I’ve figured out what time I should wake up at to make sure I feel good all day. What I pursue in life is emotional stability, and I don’t think there’s really anything too exciting or sad happening these days.

What effect do those emotions have when you work on music? SUGA: They don’t have a big effect on it. I think it affects the way I write lyrics a bit, but I’m not working on any lyrics at the moment. I’ve been making music for a long time, so I think it’s possible for me to express emotions I’m not feeling in the moment. And it’s good that we released “Permission to Dance” in this kind of situation.

You sing rather than rap in “Permission to Dance.” In addition to rapping, you started singing more both before and after BE. What did you learn about your voice? SUGA: “Permission to Dance” was a little bit difficult. I don’t draw a line between singing and rapping or anything, but it was different from our usual style, and the vocals were a bit high, too. So even though it took a while to prepare for it, I worked hard, and even when I asked some older musicians for their opinions, they all said, “It’s good the way you’re doing it. Don’t try to sing better—just sing more.” I think my only option is to sing more, like they suggested.

As far as style goes, you’ve been doing a smoother kind of pop music. Did any differences arise as a result of these changes? SUGA: All things considered, the English was the hardest part. I paid close attention to my pronunciation in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” It wasn’t easy to capture that smooth feeling in the songs, so I practiced my pronunciation quite a bit. And I end up breathing a lot when I’m doing an English song, but the rap parts were a bit hard for that reason. There’s a clear difference from Korean songs, since English has so many syllables. But I don’t have any one method I stick with for my vocals yet, so I tend to try lots of different things out.

What do you make of BTS’s achievements over the past year with “Permission to Dance” and “Butter,” as well as the group’s change in style? In the space of a year, you’ve released songs in a style different from MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 or BE. SUGA: As a producer, I think reactions are important to an artist who works within the field of popular music. With that in mind, speaking as a producer, “Dynamite,” “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” were the best choices. And musical tastes are different from country to country, and the cultures are different, too. Given that situation, I think it’s important that we’re a group who can send such a universal message out into the world.

BTS has really grown and changed a lot, starting with “No More Dream” and all the way to “Permission to Dance.” SUGA: I think it’s a natural course of event for those of us who make pop music. Artists mix and match different genres as they grow, and the music develops as the people of its time listen to it. I’ve been listening to a ton of music lately, and thanks to the times we live in, if I listen to a song a few times, they recommend me more songs in a similar style. And after listening to them, I realized the style of hip hop is also changing and is splitting off into different offshoots. Other than hip hop, I also listen to a lot of instrumental music. I’ve always liked Hans Zimmer’s music. There have been many times where a movie I like turns out to have music by Hans Zimmer.

What is it about Hans Zimmer’s music that draws you in? SUGA: I like orchestral music. There’s a lot of pop songs that are under the three-minute mark now, and whereas it’s sort of predetermined that they’re always written with intros that are four bars long, orchestral music can do a lot within its framework.

But, as can be seen in IU’s song “eight,” which you both produced and featured on, you broke out of pop music’s typical composition style and tried out a highly condensed progression. The composition of the chorus is very straightforward. SUGA: Yes. I insisted that the flow be roughly cut in half from that of a typical song, and I expect more pop music will be like that in the future. And maybe even shorter as time goes on. I mean, these days there’s songs that are under two minutes, even.

Regardless, I felt the chorus in “eight” is extremely dramatic with its structure and the melody of the chorus. I thought it was rather grand in scale as well. Would you say that you’re attempting to mix your tastes and things you want to do into the structure of pop music? SUGA: As you know, I love hip hop, so when I was first making music I thought it had to be hip hop no matter what and that I had to take pride in my own ideas and not accept any compromise. But while getting some experience at the forefront of pop music, I figured out that you can keep being stubborn or inflexible because there are people listening to you. There was a time I made music without any listeners before I became a member of BTS. But if someone were to ask if I stopped being stubborn about the music I’m making these days, the answer’s no. As I grew up and became an adult, I came to realize that I have to negotiate between what I want to do and the kind of music the public wants without compromising anything. When I give up on something I wanted to do, I ask myself, What will I get out of this? And conversely, when I want to do something, I ask myself, What can I get out of this? That’s how I keep my balance to make it to where I am now.

You have no choice but to think about those things when you work on other artists’ songs, especially when you’re a producer. SUGA: I’m BTS’s SUGA, and I’m Agust D, and when I’m producing, I go by “by SUGA.” But when it comes to by SUGA, I make perfectly commercial music. I’m the producer for those songs, sure, but the owner is someone else, you know? In that case, they’re commissioning my work. But they wouldn’t think about just leaving it all with SUGA. The artist’s label has to think carefully about whether to commission me for producing and consider my situation, too, and those people must be hoping for something commercial. That’s the most important part of working with outside people. Actually, that kind of work isn’t much of a benefit to me, to be honest. Oh, he can write this kind of song, too. That’s all. The more valuable thing I can get from it is the recognition and records the artist or the company will get with the song instead.

As you noted in your previous Weverse Magazine interview, when you discussed your “interest in the music industry in the US,” you seem to constantly think about the things artists can do within the framework of the music industry. SUGA: I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve become more certain since the pandemic started that I’m the kind of person who always has to be doing music. That much I know for sure, so I want to keep on making good music. And the pop music market is something that came about because there were people listening, and there’s a long history to the US music market, and it possesses the most influential charts in the whole word. So then I thought, Wouldn’t they have gone through all the same things that we have? And really, whenever I talk to other pop stars, the situation is always similar. The US is also more realistic about commercial results than any other country. I wanted an accurate picture of how those people work. Right now, Korean pop music’s spread is in full swing and we need more good artists to keep popping up. From a producer’s standpoint, if that’s going to happen, I think the key is how well we can mix our music and the characteristics of overseas music industries overall.

How did it feel to be in the lineup for the Grammy Awards, one of the icons of the US music industry? SUGA: The feeling was less immediate because we couldn’t be there in person, and it wasn’t a huge distinction, but the performance made me think, This is different, because it’s the Grammys. What changed my view from the first time I went to an American music awards ceremony was, the first time I went, I was really scared of the world’s biggest music market. But when I look back now, I don’t think I had any reason to feel that intimidated. To be honest, I have only now begun to enjoy the awards ceremonies; I wasn’t able to then.

It’s no exaggeration to say that you’ve achieved most of the things that you can as an artist in the music industry. What steps do you think are necessary for the artists who follow after BTS? SUGA: The way artists work seems so difficult. They make an appearance on a different music show every day once the promotional period begins, meaning the exhaustion artists face is enormous, and that fatigue often results in injuries as it adds up. That kind of music show is for promotional purposes, so it’s not like the artists can earn a proper income from them. On top of that, despite all the promoting, there’s no visible outcome, so they inevitably lose morale. If possible, it’d be nice to have one of the performances be really high-quality, even if it’s just the one, but in this environment I’d say that’s pretty difficult. And since our job doesn’t fit the common conception of work, there’s ambiguous boundaries when it comes to issues of legal protection as well. We need a lot of improvements to be made to the industry and its system.

They demand a lot of things as collateral for success, yet success is extremely difficult to attain. SUGA: The great thing about the label I’m with is they listen to the artists’ opinions. I think both we and the label know to a certain degree what kinds of activities would be best commercially speaking. But the question is whether the body can endure it or not. If the fatigue builds up as you continuously do those promotional activities, it’s hard to do them the way you did when you first debuted. In that case, I think the label ought to actively accommodate the artist’s views about what they can and cannot do. An attitude that’s just like, Oh, we made you kids, and as long as you just do what we tell you to it’ll all work out, so just do it—I think that really doesn’t make any sense. Of course, there could still be situations where the label has to be pushy like that, obviously. But I heard there’s been times where a label will just say, Do it, without any explanation to the artist, or, Why are you talking so much? I think that’s the biggest issue and it’s destroying the industry. If you just see the artist as a product, how can they do anything creative? I really think it’s very contradictory to ask the people on stage to put on an enjoyable performance when they’re experiencing neither fun nor enjoyment.

That reminds me of the music video for “Daechwita” somehow. You appear onscreen as both a rebel character and a king, looking as different as your situation when you first debuted with BTS and your situation now. SUGA: There was a lot I wanted to do in “Daechwita,” not just musically but also visually, and a lot of ideas came to me as I came to reflect on who I am as a person while working on the music video. It naturally occurred to me to separate SUGA, by SUGA and Agust D. The character I played in that video who wasn’t the king was a stranger. It takes place during the Joseon era, but then there’s cars and guns, which of course don’t belong in that era. I think we’ve been living our lives that way. Right from our debut, a portion of the hip hop lovers criticized us by saying, They’re idols. But at the same time, we heard things like, They’re not idols. I didn’t know which drumbeat to march to, so I think that’s why each of our albums took a different direction than people were expecting. But I don’t think I can call myself a stranger in this situation anymore. So these days my main goal is to keep going with BTS for a long time. Having a huge audience show up at our concerts is nice, but I think the goal for all of us is to make sure the group can keep making music even as we get older. I think right now we’re thinking a lot about how we can have fun and be happy on stage.

What do you mean when you say fun and happy music? SUGA: I think people are happier the busier I am, so lately I’ve been thinking that I need to focus a little more. I figure we should do as much as we can for ARMY since they feel happy watching us. We’ll continue to try our best, so I hope they believe in BTS and keep their eyes on us.

So that’s why you do music. SUGA: This is the only thing I know how to really do. Other than music and BTS, there’s nothing special about me when I look at this 28-year-old Min Yoongi. That’s why I want to keep doing this.

#yoongi #suga #bangtan #bts #210730 #interview

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mrspettyferr · 3 years

Text

Reason 1035235 Book 5 is Elriel and Book 6 is Vucien

With the way these books are being written, one stand alone after another with an overarching plot, then ACOSF would need to not only center on a romance, but set up the next one. They need to show progress in some form. And if we go back, the whole point of ACOFAS was to give a little fluff, but also to set up the next few books. (SJM herself said seeds were planted in ACOFAS for the spinoffs.)

Now, I actually want to dive into Lucien's romantic setup. So we're going to look at Lucien and Elain, and Lucien and Vassa.

FYI, this post will be very long, because I wanted to highlight most if not all of their the scenes.

For reference: Lucien and Elain, Lucien and Vassa

ACOFAS

Lucien and Elain

He hadn’t mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay, or to go. And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

- -

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle. No, she tended to her gardens here, silently mourning her lost human life. Mourning Graysen.

How Lucien withstood it, I didn’t know. Not that he’d shown any interest in bridging that gap between them.

- -

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to.

Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.”

I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.

- -

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

“Would you, if your positions were reversed?”

He didn’t answer.

- -

“Spend time with her.”

“I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.”

- -

“I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes."

- -

“He brought you a present.”

Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.”

Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

- -

I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it.

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.

Lucien and Vassa

But Vassa’s freedom would end. Lucien had said as much months ago, and still visited her often enough that I knew nothing in that regard had improved.

- -

“I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

- -

"I think he’d have been crowned king by now if it wasn’t for Vassa.” A twitch of the lips, a spark in that russet eye. “She’s doing well enough. Savoring every second of her temporary freedom.”

- -

“You’d be surprised to see how the three of us get along.”

Friends, I realized. They had somehow become his friends.

“So you’d rather stay with them?”

“I’m not staying with them. The manor is ours.”

- -

“That’s what we call ourselves. The Band of Exiles.”

- -

From these scenes, we essentially know Elain and Lucien have not progressed AT ALL. Elain still mourns Graysen, she wants nothing to do with Lucien, avoids him and is obviously uncomfortable around him.

Lucien on the flip side, isn't really trying to bridge that gap, but he's still hanging on and has some mate instincts regarding Graysen. He's not lost hope for her, but he's not really trying to push too hard either. (IMO out of respect, but also because of lack of interest beyond the bond.)

Conclusion: They're not being set up at this point. They haven't progressed, and his feelings technically aren't really genuine because it's not ELAIN he's interested in. It's his MATE. (Note, not his fault. Not blaming him for this. Just pointing out this is a more superficial "relationship" because its not based on an actual relationship, but a bond that neither chose for themselves.)

Lucien and Vassa on the other hand have made progress. They started off allies in war and are now friends. He's spent a lot of time with her, he's now living with her (and Jurian), and they have a name for themselves. He feels comfortable in the human lands with her and Jurian, unlike in the Night Court. (This is very important for Lucien's journey and I'll talk more about it in a second.)

Conclusion: Lucien and Vassa's relationship HAS progressed. It's moving forward, whereas Elain and Lucien are still stagnant. Friendship is a stepping stone in all of SJM's romances, so we can expect whoever Lucien ends up with, it will start with friendship. And at this point, Vassa is his friend, not Elain.

Now let's move onto ACOSF, because this is where SJM could turn things around, right? This is where she has to really start steering the ships in the right direction because the next books will focus on these relationships.

ACOSF

Lucien and Elain

There had been some tightness in Elain’s face as she’d said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around, but the male remained in the human lands with Jurian and Vassa.

- -

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

- -

Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien.

- -

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

- -

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings.

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Lucien and Vassa

“Lucien can’t be entirely trusted anymore.”

Cassian started. “What?”

“Even with Elain here, he’s become close with Jurian and Vassa. He’s voluntarily living with them these days, and not just as an emissary. As their friend.”

- -

"So Lucien can’t be unbiased in reporting to us on Vassa.”

- -

Mor winnowed Cassian after sundown directly to the manor that had become home and headquarters to Jurian, Vassa, and—apparently—Lucien.

- -

Vassa rolled her eyes, then looked to Lucien, who sank onto the sofa beside Jurian. Like the Fae male had settled similar arguments between them.

- -

Both Jurian and Lucien stared at her, the former’s face utterly unreadable, and the latter’s pained.

- -

Vassa nodded. “It is all I have gleaned from my time enslaved to him.”

Lucien stared out the window—as if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent. As if he were setting his target.

- -

“And Jurian and Vassa?”

“At each other’s throats, as they like to be,” he said, a tad sharply. She wondered what that was about—and for the life of her couldn’t read it.

- -

Elain and Lucien have still remained stagnant. Elain is even more uncomfortable--she sits as far away as she can, unlike in ACOFAS where she at least sat within talking distance--and she literally shrinks inward and loses her newfound boldness around him.

While Lucien showed disappointment and longing on Solstice, he's now showing actual discomfort, just like Elain. He's spending most of his time away, with Jurian and Vassa, and still isn't doing much to bridge the gap.

These two have, imo, sank further. They didn't just remain stagnant, they kinda backtracked even more. Why? Because at this point, we know Elain has seemingly gotten over Graysen and developed feelings for Azriel, and I think Lucien is developing them for Vassa.

We see a potential spark of jealousy regarding Jurian and Vassa. The manor isn't just theirs now--it's home for Lucien. (Something he was struggling with in ACOFAS, feeling like he had nowhere to go, no place to call home. Again, this is progress in their relationship but also in Lucien's journey. Remember, that's important.) It's pointed out that not only is Lucien voluntarily living with her, but he's so close with her that the Night Court doesn't think they can fully trust him to be unbiased on Vassa. Like he can't do his actual job because of her, and his relationship with her.

All of this is more progress on their relationship, emphasizing they've grown closer, he now has a home (with her and Jurian), and he's setting his target on Koschei, knowing she will have to return to him - THAT is all set up for his romance.

In conclusion, without even needing to dive into Azriel and Elain's progress over the series and obvious setup, we can see Lucien's journey has progressed with Vassa - his romantic setup is with Vassa. Not Elain.

And I didn't even go into the Swan Lake/Koschei parallels. But I'll just leave the post with this:

A bird of flame...and a lord of fire. I wondered if they’d found each other yet.

#elriel #vucien #elain x azriel #lucien x vassa #anti elucien

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snowywrites · 3 years

Text

Natsuki x comedic!reader

summary: this was a request from someone on quotev, reader is gender neutral!

word count: 3k

You set your bag down next to your usual chair in the Literature Club room before taking a seat in one of the desk chairs. Stretching your arms up high over your head, you suppress a yawn; being stuck in school for an extra hour or so wasn't all that bad, considering you got to see your friends whom you didn't really share any classes with.

"Ugh. You're never the first one here."

A familiar irritated voice catches your attention, and you turn around in your chair to grin at the one and only Natsuki. Your expression brightens even more when you notice what she's carrying.

"Aww! Are those for us?" You coo, rising quickly from your chair to hurry over to the short pink-haired girl standing by the entrance to the room, examining the tray of muffins in her hands.

Immediately Natsuki recoils away from you, reminding you so much of a stray cat who never received enough love in their life. The thought makes you snort to yourself as she even straight up hisses, "Wh- these aren't for- I mean- they're for the club! But they aren't for, like, you and me!"

You listen to her fierce but confusing denial politely, your smile softening but never completely disappearing. She could get so riled up sometimes over the tiniest things.

Natsuki's blush is apparent, and you're highly tempted to make some sort of joking comment comparing her to something, when she suddenly backs up too far and collides with the doorframe of the classroom behind her. She squeaks, the tray suddenly seeming very shaky in her hands as she struggles to regain her balance to keep herself from toppling to the floor.

Not missing a beat, you reach out to catch the tray just as it slips from her hands, only narrowly managing to avoid watching the muffins spill all over the place.

Feeling pretty proud of yourself for that nice save, you hold the tray up triumphantly with one hand, showing off just a little bit as you smirk at Natsuki. "Well, what do you think? Have I earned the right to have at least one of these most-delightfully-baked-goods?"

She's fumbling for a response, ego most definitely wounded.

You lower the tray again, adding teasingly, "Alas, if you can't spare even one little muffin, I suppose we could work out some kind of arrangement?" You pause and hum, tapping your chin thoughtfully with one finger from your free hand, pretending to think for a moment. "How's about, say, three years of your devoted friendship? That about equals the rescued lives of- onetwothreefourfiveand... six muffins, wouldn't you agree?" You say, making a small show out of counting them.

Natsuki glares at you with scorching magenta eyes, stuttering over her words so much ('don't compare her to Yuri even as a joke, she will kill us right here and now, Y/N.') that you start to worry if maybe you've gone too far in teasing her today- not everyone appreciates your jokes, but you usually got the impression that Natsuki actually kind of liked them... even if she acted like she didn't. Normally, you could literally see her trying her best to fight back a giggle, but this time she seemed more sensitive for whatever reason.

"Ah, Natsuki-"

Whatever half-assed attempt at an awkward apology you were about to come up with was interrupted, of course, by your ever-excitable mutual friend Sayori launching herself into the classroom with all the unrestrained joy of an elementary schooler, exclaiming, "Y/N! You're never here this early- and you brought snacks??"

Sayori leans too close into your personal space to inspect the muffins before deciding, "Wait, no- these look too good to be yours, I bet Natsuki-" She glances over her shoulder to see the baker in question and exclaims, "So you did make them! Hey, thanks!"

Natsuki, still attempting to recover from her previous flustered state, huffs, refusing to look at either of you two. "Y-Yeah, it's no big deal..."

Sayori is already reaching over to snag one of the muffins; you have no doubt in mind that she was the reason Natsuki made six treats instead of five.

You try to catch Natsuki's eye so you could feign some good ol' exaggerated exasperation with the way Sayori ate like such a child, and how tactless she could be, but the short girl was doing her absolute best to continue ignoring your entire presence.

Yikes, maybe you actually had seriously offended her... or maybe it was just something else entirely that had upset her so much...?

Before you had the chance to really think too much about what could be bothering Natsuki, the other members of the Literature Club arrived for the usual after school meeting, first Yuri and then shortly after Monika, both apologizing for being tardy even though they weren't that late at all.

"Oh, Natsuki brought snacks?" Inquires Monika as she notices the muffin tray you had set down on a desk a couple of minutes ago. "Let's all have them before we do any reading or discussions today."

Sayori beams at the club president's words, having already polished off her first muffin and now eager for yet another. You didn't blame her, Natsuki was a great baker, but sheesh, with the way Sayori had inhaled it, you wondered if she even tasted it at all.

You try yet again to send Natsuki a warm smile in the hopes of cheering her up somehow, but she was still steadfastly pretending you didn't exist, apparently, and so your efforts were futile.

Resigned to your fate, you help Monika push some of the desks together to form a makeshift table that everyone settled down at, each club member taking a muffin for themselves and starting to dig in.

"No complaints, Sayori?" You hum after the first bite when you realize what the flavor of these particular muffins is.

Your energetic friend is probably eating too quickly to really notice, as you originally suspected, and she simply blinks at you, confused.

"What do you mean 'complaints'?" Natsuki pipes up sharply, though her voice is wavering which makes you think she actually cares quite a lot about what others- maybe even you in particular- think of her baking prowess.

You shake your head defensively, chuckling a little. "Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's just, they're blueberry. Sayori can be such a kid sometimes, so I-"

"Do you not like them?" Natsuki snaps, making you wish, not for the first time, that you could finish a sentence around these girls.

"Ah- nono, I do! It's really good! I just was- uhm-" You struggle to find the right words to defend yourself under her heated glare. Why was Natsuki taking everything you said so personally today?

"Y/N was only joking," Monika, bless her soul, steps in calmly with the patience of a saint to try and smooth out the situation before it was given the chance to escalate any further. "You know how they can be."

Wow, okay, ouch.

You dramatically place a hand over your heart. "Why, Monika! You wound me." And honestly, there was a teensy bit of truth buried and hidden underneath your dumb joke. Just because you liked to cover up any feelings of discontentment in an effort to find the tiniest semblance of humor in just about any scene of life didn't mean you went around purposely hurting the feelings of those around you. Or... did you? Shoot, now you weren't sure anymore.

Sayori laughs out loud at your over the top display, and you notice even Yuri is trying to hide a smile behind her muffin, her violet eyes almost unnerving with the way they follow your every movement.

But you aren't really paying attention to any of them at the moment, so much so that you don't even process Monika's reply. Your focus is purely on Natsuki.

She's not glaring directly at you anymore, but down at her hands which are clasped together in her lap.

You clear your throat; being serious wasn't your thing, but you still wanted to give it a try- for her. Softly, in the hopes of not letting the rest of the girl's overhear your words, you begin, "Natsuki, I..."

"It is strange, though." Yet again you are interrupted! If it had been Sayori, you would have been openly frustrated with her, but this time it's Yuri's shy self who has at last decided to share something of her thoughts with the group.

A beat of silence. “What’s strange?” Monika prompts when Yuri doesn’t continue her train of thought.

The violet-haired girl jolts a little, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. “Ah- just that- uhm- I was just thinking… Natsuki usually bakes cupcakes for us instead of muffins,” she explains timidly.

Huh. Weird observation, but Yuri kinda had a point.

Natsuki stiffens, sending a scowl in Yuri’s direction. “You don’t have to psychoanalyze literally everything, y’know. Life isn’t always like one of your dumb novels where you have to make up deeper meanings for when one doesn’t exist.”

You exchange a swift glance with Monika- lately, you and the club president had sort of been tag teaming helping each other lately to diffuse conflict within the Literature Club. Most often, the offenders were the same as the ones now: Natsuki and Yuri. Monika’s method of smoothing over issues was calmly and kindly, whereas you tended to take a more comedic route where angry grumbles could dissolve into grudging laughter.

Since it was technically your turn to step in and try to solve some conflict before either girl burst into tears, you interject with the first set-up for a joke that pops into your head.

“Heh, careful, Natsuki. I think you might give Yuri a new idea for one of her poems.” You face the taller girl as you continue, “Here, I’ll help you with the topic- ‘muffins- are they just ugly cupcakes?’ Yeah, just throw in some fancy language and stuff and-“

You can tell by everyone’s expressions that you’ve made a misstep somewhere here in your delivery, but then Yuri reaches up with one hand as she tries to mask her smile, and you’re intensely relieved you didn’t hurt her feelings.

Somehow, though, it seemed someone else was hurt.

Natsuki stood up abruptly from her chair, the sound of it’s metal legs grating on the floor causing you to wince. “Can you be serious for once?”

She doesn’t wait for your response, just turns on her heel to grab her cute pink backpack and then stalk out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Sheesh, what did I say….?” You sigh heavily, combing a hand through your hair. You were so frustrated with both yourself and Natsuki.

Sayori gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, already standing up to go check on Natsuki, but Monika’s timelessly intelligent emerald gaze was fixed on you with a thoughtfulness that seemed beyond her years, and it did not move away from you when she spoke to Sayori. “No, let’s have Y/N go and talk things out with her.”

You cringe. “Won’t that just make things worse?” You worry, shaking your head. “I mean, call me crazy, but I don’t think I’ll be getting an award for being her favorite person anytime soon, Monika…”

A faint smile crosses Monika��s face. “Mm, I think you’d be surprised. Just go and talk with her, and please hurry before you miss her. I’d hate to lose a club member, especially one as talented as Natsuki.”

You stand up, a bit alarmed by the assumption your club president was making here. What, just because of one little spat it was presumed Natsuki would quit the Literature Club altogether? That would never happen!

….Would it?

You weren’t keen on taking your chances of finding out, so you hastily made your exit from the classroom, looking around the school halls and seeing just a flash of pink disappear around the corner to your right.

You hurry after Natsuki, glancing around uncertainly- you were pretty sure you weren’t allowed to roam the halls like this after classes were over, even if you were in a club. Plus, it seemed like Natsuki wasn’t actually leaving the school building at all, she was heading for the roof.

You don’t call her name for fear of being reprimanded by some annoying teacher or other staff, so you kept quiet as you trailed after your friend up some flights of stairs; if she was aware of your presence, she said nothing- you were mostly sure that she would’ve snapped at you to go away if she had noticed you.

At last you make it to the door that went out to the roof of the school building, which had just closed behind Natsuki. Tentatively, you push it open as quietly as possible and take a small peek outside to survey the situation.

Natsuki is sitting on a small bench with her back still to you, her attention apparently fixed on the horizon.

“Wow, they have benches up here?” You ask, finally making your presence known as you step out onto the roof and allow the door to drift shut behind you.

Natsuki starts, glancing back over her shoulder to see you, and her eyes narrow when you offer her a hesitant smile. “If you’re here to apologize, you can just leave.” Her voice is sharp, but you can sense that she sounds almost, defeated in a way.

You shrug, wandering over to sit down next to her, looking towards the sky. “Good thing I wasn’t planning on apologizing, then.”

She huffs, purposely scooting away from you so that she was right on the edge of the bench. “Look, what makes you think I want your company?”

“I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to explain what I meant for my own sake. My reputation and all that?”

She purses her lips together. “Go ahead then,” she mutters wearily.

“I never mean to offend you or anybody else with my jokes. I just kinda, joke around a lot, it’s not something I ever even think about doing, it just happens.” You pause, sighing dramatically as if the weight of the world has been taken off of your shoulders. “Boy, it’s been so long since I’ve held onto that secret. “So… now it’s your turn.”

At last the pink-haired girl looks at you, mildly confused. “My turn to do what?”

“Share a secret,” you clarify playfully.

Natsuki immediately shakes her head, a brilliant blush painting her cheeks. “Wh- never!”

You laugh. “Okay, alright, point taken. How about this then: how was your day?”

Natsuki calms down somewhat, apparently actually considering your question. You realize she seems… sad, somehow. “It was… whatever.”

“Did you bake the muffins this morning or-?” You ask idly.

“No, last night.” She pauses, glancing away again to stare at the sky, and you got the sense she was somewhere else in her memories, not fully present with you on this school roof now. “I was… going to decorate them this morning, but then I just. Had to leave.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those tardy students, aren’t you?” You tease as gently as possible.

She exhales in a long, frustrated breath. “For your information, I got to school a few hours early actually.”

You have very few puzzle pieces of this mystery to try and fit together, and you wish she’d stop being so- mysterious about this whole thing. You hadn’t noticed before today, but you knew very little about Natsuki, aside from the facts that she liked manga (probably anime too), baking, writing, the color pink, cute things… you didn’t know anything at all about her home life. You’re tempted to ask just why she was so early, why she couldn’t decorate the muffins, but just as you’re trying to work up the courage and the right words, she saves you the trouble.

“My father…” She trails off, sounding uncharacteristically insecure for once, and her eyes seem too-bright, as if shining with unshed tears. She’s being very vulnerable with you right now, and you’re intensely worried you’re going to mess it up with her somehow, so you keep quiet and wait for her to continue. “He…”

Her voice catches in her throat, not allowing her to continue.

Instantly you lean closer to rest your hand on her hand, causing her to flinch in shock at the unexpected touch.

She gives you a look like she wants to be angry, but at the same time, she’s not pulling away from you.

You really, really don’t want to see her cry. Not Natsuki, the strong-willed, determined, fierce Natsuki. You’re unsure how to comfort people, so you go with what you know best.

In a perfectly serious tone and a straight-faced expression, you say, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

For a second, you’re about 80% sure she’s going to slap you right in the face.

But instead, something miraculous happens.

Natsuki giggles, and as she does so, tears streak down her cheeks.

“Oh God- I didn’t mean to-!”

“No, no!” She cuts you off, tugging her hand away from yours and swiping at her face to try and wipe the moisture from her eyes, a smile still tugging at her lips. “You’re- you’re fine- I mean! Not you, I meant that, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine…” She pauses, and you think this is the first time Natsuki has ever gazed at you with such softness.

Have you really made her feel better? You’re pretty proud of yourself for that one. You would like to tell her that she can talk to you about anything anytime, or that maybe she can hang out at your house whenever she can’t stand being at hers, but she speaks before you can.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Your jokes are terrible.”

You tilt your head to the side in confusion. Despite the insult, you can definitely hear the smile in her voice.

#ddlc #doki doki literature club #natsuki #natsuki x reader #imagine #scenario #preference #ddlc x reader #gender neutral reader #may add more tags if i think of more

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linkspooky · 4 years

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Shigaraki’s Family

Shigaraki has to date fought against villains, won, and then taken something from them in his victory. This time however he’s not up against a villain but a bad hero. The lesson Shigaraki is going to learn from Endeavor is exactly as he says: you heroes hurt your own families just to help complete strangers. Family is more important. It’s also what makes him the opposite of Endeavor, Shigaraki always chooses his found family over his own ambitions, whereas Endeavor puts his ambitions to be a hero over his family. MORE UNDER THE CUT.

1. Shigaraki and Endeavor

There is actually a lot of connecting threads between Shigaraki and Endeavor’s characters. They are both characters who are considered inferior replacements to the previous king of both the hero and villain worlds, Shigaraki is called a worthless successor again and everybody prefers All Might to Endeavor.

They are also characters who both believe they need to become stronger than anyone. Their quirks are partially incompatible with their bodies and they often hurt themselves going overboard using them and because of that they feel weak even when they are strong. Shigaraki in part - chooses to have Ujiko experiment on his body, even if it is an influenced choice. They both try to settle things with power first.

However even in that they are different: Shigaraki was raised to believe by AFO that he owed AFO, continually made to feel unworthy for everything AFO had given him and had his ambition to be king of villains thrown on his shoulders. Endeavor decided to do those things all on his own from a position of relative financial security and safety within hero society.

However, the way they treat the people closest to them is completely opposite. The League of VIllains that Shigaraki creates is again and again remarked upon as a place where people are allowed to be themselves. The league is a place of trust and acceptance. It’s remarked several times that the league genuinely trusts one another.

Consider Shigaraki’s main personality traits, anti-social, awkward, immature. He’s modeled to act like a NEET and an overgrown manchild. He easily could have made no connection at all to the League of Villains. He could have stayed the person he was at the start of the story, someone willing to kill new recruits five minutes after meeting them. He could have even run things like AFO, choosing to either turn his followers into worshippers, or act entirely from the shadows controlling them like a puppeteer.

My point being - Shigaraki is not the easiest person to get along with, or even understand, and yet he made a deliberate choice to get closer to the league. The league is this way because Shigaraki is this way. The league values people first, because Shigaraki puts people first. It’s who he is at the core of his being. Tenko played with the kids nobody else would play with, stood up to bullies, and wanted to be a hero even when his father told him no. That part of Shigaraki hasn’t changed.

It’s Shigaraki himself who creates the healthy environment of the league. Somewhere along the way, Shigaraki began to consider them a family. Even if he’s not direct in stating it, or even as outwardly friendly as Twice about it.

Shigaraki’s definition of family is made clear in his dreams and flashback. Family doesn’t reject you. Shigaraki in making the league his family sets out to do the opposite of what his father did, create a place where the people close to him are accepted for who they are and valued as individuals. They aren’t judged by their quirk, or even their contribution to the team. Giran is saved even after he stops being useful, Spinner’s quirk is so weak he can only cling to walls and yet he’s trusted as one of the top members.

The way Shigaraki treats his own family - his allies is the exact opposite of Endeavor. He doesn’t try to control who they are, he doesn’t force them, but he does lead and they choose to follow. Even members who insist again and again that they don’t care about the other members of the league, and they’re not in it to help Shigaraki like Dabi are trusted.

Compare this to Endeavor’s interactions with Hawks, someone who has been in Endeavor’s corner from the beginning and yet someone Endeavor absolutely refuses to trust or even understand a little bit. Shigaraki always gives Dabi free reign, Endeavor snaps at and threatens Hawks several times, getting angry in all of their interactions.

If the League is somewhere where you are free to choose who you are, Endeavor creates an oppressive environment. Even if he is repentant about his past actions with Shoto, he still takes every oppurtunity he possibly can to mould Shoto into who he wants him to be.

Even post redemption - Shouto has to be his heir, Shouto has to master his technique. Not only that but if Endeavor suddenly decides he wants to act more like father and son Shouto has to go along with that too. Endeavor’s view of the world is still self-centered. He’s the patriarch,he’s in a position of power, and he uses that to revolve everything around his own desires for other people.

In Shigaraki’s words, Endeavor rejects who Shoto is.

Endeavor has status, prestige, and connections in the hero world and he uses that to get what he wants: Shoto working alongside him, Shoto learning from him, Shoto allowing him to pass on his technique flash fire. When Shoto is reluctant, Endeavor will put pressure on him, send him multiple messages, contact him when he’s not wanted. When Shoto doesn’t want to play father son with Endeavor, and only wants to apprentice to him in an official capacity Endeavor acts disappointed.

Endeavor still views Shoto as the one he pours the most attention into because Shoto has the strongest quirk. Endeavor creates an oppressive environment, Shoto is not free, Shoto is not valued as an individual.

The one good thing Endeavor does is back off with Natsuo and Fuyumi, and allow them to live in a house separate from him even though he personally wants to be with the rest of his family. However, his behavior towards Shoto for the most part hasn’t changed (which is you know the foiling, Endeavor did to Shoto what AFO did to Shigaraki).

2. Family First

Endeavor’s ambitions will always be more important than his family. We see this in the choices he makes so far his arc. Let’s look at the last thing Endeavor remarked upon before the battle started.

He regrets that Toya, a child he was responsible for died under his watch. We still don’t know the exact circumstances but considering the parallel with Shigaraki it’s very possible, Endeavor’s ambitions to be a hero were what directly hurt his own son.

If Endeavor is repetant then family should come first before his ambitions correct: but here are the choices Endeavor makes this arc.

Remember Endeavor is someone who literally tried to raise a child soldier, by forcing five year old Shoto into aggressive quirk training. He of all people should be sensitive to what exactly is wrong with the Hero Commission’s plans to use children and students as a backup against villains who will be using lethal force in a war zone to try to kill them.

Not only that but he chooses this action without permission and without consent of the families of the children. Natsuo and Fuyumi have no idea what is happening to Shoto right now.

In general, the heros choose actions again and again to put the people they should be responsible for into danger. When Midnight is being overwhelmed by villains rather than telling the children she’s supposed to be protecting to retreat from the monster capable of destroying cities she asks them to do something illegal.

Whereas, the league always makes the opposite choice this arc. They choose to protect one another in the tight knit family group.

The league watches out for each other’s well being.

Shigaraki’s first order was to bring his family to him. Gigantomachia would have made it to Shigaraki’s side already, if Shigaraki didn’t value the league so much that he protected them first over himself and instructed Gigantomachia to do so as well.

The heroes right now are choosing again and again to sacrifice not only the individual, but the individuals they are personally responsible and let them go into danger for the sake of a victory.

The villains are making the opposite choice. Shigaraki is personally responsible for the found family of the league as the leader, and the league’s every choice has always been to protect each other and put the safety of their allies first rather than sacrificing them for a cause. It’s even reflected in Twice’s final choice that leds to his death. He cares more about the league to the point where he acknowledges he might be thrown out after all of this is over and still chooses to use his last act protecting them anyway.

While yes, the heroes do make these sacrifices to protect innocent people. Innocent people also get hurt from these same heroes. Hawks was innocent, a disadvantaged child that the hero commission took advantage of. Shoto was innocent, but raising him up as a hero was more important than Shoto’s health and well being as a child. Heroes are supposedly making these sacrifices to protect innocents, and yet innocents still get hurt underneath the hero system that they’re giving everything to protect.

That’s why the themes of friendship and even family resonate so well with the league of villains because we’ve seen them consistently choose each other over and over again. That is likely what Shigaraki is going to awaken to at the end of his fight with Endeavor, that he’s not doing this for ambition like Endeavor, or AFO, that he really is fighting against the whole world to protect his small family.

#shigaraki tomura #league of villains #league of villains meta #shigaraki meta #my hero academia meta #mha meta #my hero academia #lov meta #shimura tenko #tomura shigaraki

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 3 years

Text

SUGA: “This is the only thing I know how to really do”

#bangtan #suga #m:weverse magazine #210731

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philliamwrites · 3 years

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The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.6]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 5.1k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

Chapter 06: From The Beyond

Ah! It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace.

[Mary B. Shelley, Frankenstein]

Thinking back on it later, the events during Garland Moon were probably what set the hare running toward its demise. Not that any of you could have known that. Not the students who joyfully spend their days in cherished halls where daylight passes through coloured glass; not Byleth with her gift to correct past mistakes with a flick of her wrist and change the course of time; not you with your foresight to see what dangers await in the future and prepare a different path for those you care for to walk safely.

Thinking back on it later, everything that followed surely ascribed to and served Fate, and not even Sylvain could charm her with his silver tongue and golden wit, for Fate’s lover is Time and she does not look kindly upon those who enslave him.

Maybe that is why things turned out the way they did for Byleth and you.

But that future is still far away and every single one of you still believes the goddess has Fate tightly leashed to her side, her benevolence endless and spreading to every corner in Fódlan.

That is why you don’t think too much about it when one day, Seteth disturbs your seminar, a deep frown settled in his features as you explain how to turn an ambush to your advantage to the students.

“Apologies for the disturbance, Herald. Lady Rhea asks to see Ashe.”

The boy gives a pitiful squeal but is up on his feet nonetheless. “Me? Why?”

“You will see. Please come.” Seteth holds the classroom’s door open.

You nod, a little worried about the frightened glance Ashe sends your way like he hopes you can actually say no and decline Rhea’s command. An encouraging smile is everything you can give him on his way before the door shuts behind him. Its sound wakes everyone else from their slumber and it takes a few minutes to reclaim order and their attention. It certainly does help that the Blue Lion House isn’t as chaotic as a certain other, not to name any names.

Said house proves again to be more difficult to teach. Or tame. You didn’t have the courage to ask why they thought it was a good idea to see whose shoe would leave the darkest stain on Claude’s bedroom’s ceiling. Even days after their mischief students kept talking about how they have never seen Seteth this furious.

“Herald, please,” Hilda cries, tragically draped over the back of her chair, a maiden in bittersweet agony over her loss of free time. “It was all Claude’s fault.”

“Liars never prosper,” Claude calls from the far back of the room. He’s hunched over his papers, working vigorously on Seteth’s punishment. He ordered them to write hundred times I shall not throw footwear against any ceiling in the monastery. They’ve been at it for about twenty minutes and Claude’s quill hasn’t stopped its furious scratching against parchment at all.

“I won’t mess with Seteth,” you tell them and lean dangerously far back on your chair to place your feet on the teacher’s desk. “And you deserve it. Or do they not teach you proper manners in your noble homes?”

“Well, it’s not like anyone taught us not to do it,” Hilda chirps. You throw a glare her way and she quickly dugs her head and continues writing. Quills scratch on paper for about seven seconds before Hilda stops again.

“Herald,” she says. “What do you think about Lady Catherine’s Thunderbrand?”

You look up from your book titled Noticeable War Generals. Smile gone from her face, Hilda looks up at you with sharp curiosity. It’s eerily silent now, and a quick glance towards Claude shows he is listening as well.

Catherine’s Thunderbrand. Its sight is still burned into the back of your closed eyes: Golden ivory forged into a grotesque sword, a blood red Crest Stone in its middle that seemed to pulsate—as if it breathed. As if it was a living thing with a heart. You had simply stared at it in awe and thought What a mesmerising weapon.

“It’s … fascinating,” you manage. “A Hero’s Relic. There are more than just Thunderbrand, right?”

“Ten exist,” Claude calls from the back. “Bestowed by the goddess upon ten heroes, they are passed down to their descendants. House Riegan and House Goneril have one in their possession as well.”

“Then why don’t you use it?” You certainly wouldn’t miss a chance to own and wield a mighty weapon like that.

“Wield that?”Hilda shudders in disgust. “No thank you. It looks so weird, pulsating and moving like an insect.”

“And we’re way too inexperienced to use it in a real battle.” Claude puts his quill between his nose and upper lip and tries to hold it there. “They’re locked away anyway and hidden from those who might misuse their power.”

Claude has a point. Nonetheless, you’d gladly take a look at them. Maybe even hold one … Did the Herald own one as well? A special weapon only forged for the Herald. A slight shudder runs down your spine at the thought of using it in battle.

Ten minutes later, Claude jumps to his feet. He hurries towards you, slams his parchments on the table and leaves just as fast. “Bye Herald!”

“No way!” Hilda pales. “How is he so fast?”

You wonder as well and take a look at his papers. Instead of writing what Seteth has told them, Claude simply left poor drawings of their crime and promised with one sentence he wouldn’t do it again.

And we of House Riegan never break our promises, reads the last line.

You groan. Now it’s your turn to think about a good explanation to Seteth’s questions why you haven’t paid more attention.

Month three passed within the blink of an eye. Garland Moon brought the sweet smell of white roses to Garreg Mach, a tradition much anticipated by the students. Everywhere you went, garlands and gifts made of white roses were given to each other as a sign of friendship or budding love. Some found their way to your desk, though your admirers preferred to stay anonymous whereas Byleth was busy to stow them somewhere—not a day passed without her receiving something or a group of giggling students following her around.

“I really don’t know what to do with all those flowers,” she told you one day during a tea session, a deep frown on her face. “They wilt. Then I throw them away. It’s a waste.”

“Your students love it,” you replied but were glad not to be in her place.

Another good deed Garland Moon brought with it is longer days and shorter nights. Students lounged outside in their summer uniforms after class, enjoying those last warm days before raining season arrived with fierce gusts and heavy pouring, forcing them back inside where they spent their free time inside the library or the dining hall, playing little games to kill time.

For a change of pace, Byleth and Jeralt decided they’d hold a grilled fish dinner on every last day of each week and most of the invited either didn’t have the heart or the courage to tell them once every week was once every week too much.

Everything happened too fast after that. Rhea informed the teacher’s faculty and her Knights of Lord Lonato Gaspard’s planned rebellion against the church. With that, the mystery of why Seteth had demanded to speak with Ashe was solved; it also explained why he spent so much time inside the chapel, praying and wondering himself about his adoptive father’s reasoning.

“There is no question about it,” Rhea says in her cool, demanding voice once every teacher and Knight of Seiros gathered inside the War Room to discuss the matter. “We will send a troop to meet them halfway in Kingdom Territory. They will pay for mocking our goddess.”

“Allow me to lead the Knights, Lady Rhea,” Catherine says. Even now, you can’t take your eyes off Thunderbrand strapped on her back. “I know Gaspard and what he’s capable of.”

“We did not forget what you’ve done back when—” Seteth starts. Catherine silences him with one look, leaving no doubt she doesn’t wish to speak of it.

“And that is exactly why I have to go.”

Rhea nodded. “So be it. I know I leave this mission in your capable hands.”

“But why is he leading this rebellion?” you wonder. “I thought the Kingdom is strongly devoted to Seiros’ teachings.”

“Every flock has its black sheep,” Rhea says, sounding sad. “We will get our answers once we defeat and capture them.”

“What about the surrounding villages and those who support Gaspard’s rebellion but don’t fight?” Byleth asked. Until now, you haven’t really thought of those not directly involved in it, but she does make a good point.

Rhea squared her shoulders. “What about them?”

“They’re not directly involved but might try to get in our way.” Byleth glanced at the strategic map laid out before her. There is a way through the forest for your units to approach Lonato’s stronghold. Surrounding villages are marked with a red pin. They surround the forest in a loose circle, making an intrusion possible, though sending Knights of Seiros out to watch them and stop them could be quite easy—

“Everyone who supports this foolish rebellion should receive the rightful punishment,” Rhea says, her voice so cold it freezes your thoughts of how to make the villagers stay out of this. Your head snaps up as you stare at her. Byleth raises an eyebrow but remains silent just like everyone else. Something about that makes you shudder.

“But they’re civilians, right? If we can avoid having them interfere—”

“By joining Lonato Gaspard’s rebellion they pledge guilty to his cause.” Rhea looks up at you, scorn flashing briefly in her eyes. “I will not have them simply go if it opens the possibility for revenge one day.”

If you squinted really hard, there was reason behind her words. Still, your stomach turned at the thought of endangering civilians even though it could be prevented. Without any protests, that was the plan for the operation.

You sat this one out. There was much to prepare for the upcoming Rite of Rebirth, a ceremony when the Church of Seiros and its believers unite to pray for the return of the goddess. Even though you wouldn’t call yourself a believer—many find it strange that you remember the way of war but not the way of the Church as if you lived somewhere without Seiros’ teachings—your presence was of outmost importance as well. Though after you heard how the mission went, you really wished you had joined the Blue Lions fighting against Gaspard instead of sitting around and deciding which ceremonial robes fit better.

Loud voices drift through the closed door of a classroom, voices you immediately recognise belonging to Dimitri and Byleth.

“Are you insane?” You flinch back even though a heavy wooden door separates you from what is undoubtedly Dimitri’s wrath. “Those were civilians.”

A reply is lost, too quiet for you to hear, but whatever Byleth said, it wasn’t the right thing. A second later, Dimitri storms through the doors. The distress in his features stops you from asking what is wrong, a flash of betrayal lurking in his eyes seals your mouth shut. You look after him until he disappears around the corner, only slowly turning towards Byleth. She is propping herself up on the table, learning on her strong arms and staring at the opposite wall, her mouth a grim line—solid rock that stands against the raging waves summoned by Dimitri, her grip on the edge of the table hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

“Everything okay?” An unnecessary question answered by a simple shake of her head. You lean your hips against the table. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Byleth is silent. Only slowly, like a tight knot finally coming lose, the tension in her shoulders dissipates and she takes a long, deep breath.

“Dimitri told me about their mission. How they dealt with Lord Lonato’s revolt.” She finally steps away from the table and kneads the muscles in her shoulders. You imagine they’re hard like a rock. “They faced simple peasants who defended their Lord. Peasants who didn’t even know how to wield a sword without cutting their own thumbs off.”

“And Rhea made quite clear how to deal with them,” you finish, summoning unwanted imaginations about a gruesome butchery in your mind. Byleth nods.

“Dimitri asked for my advice,” she continues, her gaze drifting towards the door as if said young man might return like a bad haunting if his name is simply muttered. “If there was anything they could have done different. I told him there wasn’t.” She tears her eyes away from the door and fixes them on you. “I told him that is the way of war.”

She is right, a part of you insists. Such facts cannot be changed and claiming anything different is foolish, naive. Yet, something stirs, a tiny tiny voice, a feeling, that challenges that thought. A feeling you didn’t expect to be part of you.

“I don’t know about the details,” you say, shuffling from left to right, “but maybe it was avoidable. Lord Lonato must have known how his subjects felt about it. He didn’t need to involve them.”

“I think they joined on their own. The students gave them a chance to lay down their weapons.”

“Still—”

“Still they decided to follow their foolish Lord,” a voice from the door joins, cold and imperious, chilling you to the bone. Rhea enters the War Room, her expression void of any warmth or kindness. “There is no place for doubt. We must punish any sinner who may inflict harm upon believers, even if those sinners are civilians.”

“And you think to have the students punish them is right?” Byleth asks, earning a sharp glare from Rhea. She quickly, but somewhat begrudgingly adds, “Your Grace.”

“I have heard that some students struggled with completing the task,” Rhea acknowledges, doing her best to show how unaffected she is by Byleth’s criticism. “I pray they learnt a valuable lesson about the fate that awaits all who are foolish enough to point their blades towards the heavens.”

An icy shudder crawls up your spine, cold fingers tighten around your throat to keep you silent—a leash forged of obedience and intimidation, the mistress standing before you. It would be wise to keep your mouth shut, not draw unnecessary attention; keep your head low and nothing can slice it from your shoulders. But the words, burning hot on your tongue, demand freedom.

“Fearing the Church isn’t the same as respecting it.”

Something sharp flashes in Rhea’s eyes. “If fear is the only way to control them, then so be it. They are traitors to the holy teachings.”

“They are people. People with families.”

“People who would be wise to remember it was the progenitor god who gave them these lands and their life,” Rhea answers, growing impatient. She notices something in the way you look at her, for she takes a moment to collect herself by taking a deep breath. “I do not enjoy seeing those who wronged our holy teachings punished, Herald,” she continues, now much calmer. “But punish them we must before they hurt those who are dear to us.” Upon her last words, her eyes dart to Byleth, looking at her with so much fondness and care, a sting of jealousy in your chest forces you to avert your gaze to the ground. It isn’t the first time you notice Rhea’s palpable interest in Byleth’s wellbeing though no answer comes to mind why it is like that. If Byleth noticed the same, she doesn’t show it.

After that, the incident is quickly forgotten, making room for the new incident occupying everyone’s mind: an assassination plot on Rhea on the day of the Rite of Rebirth found in Lonato’s possession. You aren’t the only one wondering why he’d carry something like that around where it’s easy to find. Multiple theories go around, one more farfetched than the other. One particular makes sense, its source none other than sharp witted Claude who thinks this plot is a simple distraction for something much bigger.

“If security is focused on the Rite of Rebirth inside the Goddess’ Tower, pretty much anyone can simply stroll around the monastery and do who knows what,” he told you on the day Byleth and her class set out to discover what important places might become a target. Garreg Mach hides many secrets and treasures. Some of them even you are not allowed to see like relics passed down from archbishop to archbishop, guarded by the elite of the Knights of Seiros, tall and bulky men and women with grim mouths and determined eyes rooting them in place day and night in front of locked doors only Rhea knows what they hide.

With every passing day, tension hangs in the air like a thick blanket waiting to smother you all. But it isn’t simply the anticipation for whatever the Western Church has planned. It is also the holy ceremony of the Rite of Rebirth, one you’ve practised under the stern eyes of Seteth who doesn’t settle for anything less than perfect. Every word, every step is engraved in your mind.

On the day of the Rite of Rebirth the sun relentlessly blazes down at the monastery. Your ceremonial robes are heavy and woven from thick jacquard fabric lined with fine golden patterns that depict the Herald’s Crest on the back. You’ve barely finished preparing everything inside the round chamber inside the Goddess’ Tower but perspiration glues your hair to your forehead.

A whole feast is prepared; food offerings and gifts from the townsfolk and priests served on golden and silver plates on long tables covered with white table clothes. In the middle Seteth prepared a small platform for Rhea to stand and speak in honour of the goddess that she may return to Fódlan and show its people her infinite grace. In short, you’d do anything to join the students who are securing the locations lacking in defence right now instead of standing around and waving at pilgrims. The only joy lies in Flayn’s bright presence and her never ending optimism. She’s a sweet girl and has been looking forward to the ceremony since the beginning of Blue Sea Moon. Looking upon her, it is hard not to catch her excitement and joy when the ceremony finally begins.

Because of certain circumstances you couldn’t quite follow, the holy relic used for the ceremony, the Chalice of Beginnings, has been missing for a long time. Because of that, a mock chalice was prepared by the cardinals, a handful of high authority men and women who make it no secret they can’t quite decide if they like or dislike you and your position.

“You must excuse them,” one of the cardinals says after a group of them simply shook their heads at you happily scooping tons of food on a plate. His dark hair falls to his shoulders and unlike the other cardinals, his brown eyes are filled with kindness. “They simply think in old patterns and value their old traditions. You are quite young, Herald. They don’t know how to handle that.”

“But you do?” you wonder and notice too late how unfriendly that sounds. But he simply laughs.

“I do frequent with young folk, yes,” he says. “They are my flock and I will do anything to protect them.”

“That again, Aelfric?” Catherine joins you and slaps his shoulder just when he was about to drink from his cup. You pretend the pastries on your plate are far more interesting than watching him choke on wine. “You’re way too good for them, you know?”

“Who is ‘them?’” you ask but Catherine just sways her hand as if he wants to get rid of a nasty fly.

“Unimportant. You did a good job carrying the chalice to the podium.”

“I did almost trip over these.” You pluck at the heavy robes, already looking forward to getting out of them.

Catherine laughs but it is short lived. Out of nowhere, a knight hurriedly approaches and leans over to her, muttering, “They are after the tomb of Saint Seiros.”

Glass shatters as her grip tightens around the fragile stem but without so much as noticing it she storms towards Rhea, fury blazing in her eyes. Something happened. Something far more exciting than playing a believer in front of everyone, so you follow her to listen in more.

“Those dastards from the Western Church infiltrated the Holy Mausoleum,” she says. Rhea pales. “I will take some knights and go there at once.”

“Go and be swift, Catherine.” Rhea’s words are barely a puff of breath, those news shaking her but she remains stoic in front of everyone to prevent panic. Her voice drops dangerously low. “Punish those heathens.”

Catherine’s head dips in a slight bow. “I will, Your Grace.”

“I want to help too.”

Both turn around at your voice. Catherine narrows her eyes to sharp slits, but it is Rhea who says, “No. I need you here for the ceremony, Herald.”

“Please, let me,” you beg. Something inside you demands to follow, demands to see what is inside the Holy Mausoleum that causes so much bloodshed. “I can’t explain, but I need to be there.”

Rhea presses her lips into a thin line. Before she reopens her mouth to decline your wish, you whirl around and leave the ceremony room, Catherine in hot pursuit. You manage halfway down the hallway before she reaches you and grabs your arm hard.

“Even though you are the Herald, I won’t allow you to show this disrespect towards Her Grace,” she snarls. “If she tells you to stay, you listen.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” you say, trying to free your arm from her bone breaking grip. “But something calls me to this place and I need to follow it.”

Catherine isn’t pleased but she knows better than do you any real harm. With a crude nod, she allows you to follow. Several knights wait for you and together you make your way through the warm evening air towards the Holy Mausoleum that lies behind the chapel.

You enter right before chaos erupts. At the end of the hall, its ceiling so high up it’s barely visible in the dark, Byleth stands tall and rises a sword that flashes in a bright red light. A throb goes through your body and brings you to your knees. It feels like an arrow drove into your chest, the stinging pain unlike anything you’ve felt before—no, it’s a pain you haven’t felt since the Crest appeared on your eye for the first time. And then that thrumming energy within you exploded, a sharp crimson that drenched every corner of your right vision, rushing through your veins.

“Kill them!” an enemy mage commands, fury fuelling him to a last desperate attack. With his remaining companions, they summon a giant fire spell you’ve only read about in books, a combination of spells into a group flame that covers a large area—the pre-stage to a much more fatal blaze that can scorch the land. Blaze or no, the effect watching the giant fire ball curling and sparking until it grows large enough to wipe out anything in its way is the same. Fear paralyses your body. Move, your mind screams, but you can’t. Your muscles have locked up; a high whine of terror fills your head and fizzes in your blood like poison, yet you do not understand where this fear of fire comes from.

“Take cover!” Catherine roars but it is too late. The blast hits the ground right before you, dispersing your small group of reinforcements like wind scattering leaves in all directions. A loud crack beneath you makes your heart skip a beat, a rumble shakes the hall and before you can fully comprehend what is happening, the ground gives way.

The last thing you hear is Byleth shouting, not Herald, but your name before you plunge into darkness.

Wake up.

You have to wake up.

This darkness is terrifying, so utterly black and choking, curling around you like a tight fist. Like someone is holding you in their dirty, tainted clutches, smelling of death and horror. Wake up, you tell yourself, more urgent now, your mind struggling to escape from claws digging into your consciousness, their goal unknown but you don’t want to stay here to find out what they are after. What they want to take from you.

Wake up, this time another voice, the voice, echoing like a sweet bell’s chime, the flicker of light in a darkness so black it hums. You have to wake up.

Your eyes snap open, the sudden white ceiling hurting like a sudden flash of light. Once you’re used to the brightness, you realise this isn’t a room, this is … this is your consciousness—no walls, no windows. It’s just a space, and yet you can clearly determine borders. Somewhere is an exit you’re free to use, nothing holds you captive. It’s your safe place. Your haven. Which doesn’t explain how you’ve gotten here.

All you know is it feels safe. It feels like a warm embrace, the feeling of hope, watching a budding flower embraced by soft, fragile hands—asteritrope, your mind provides out of nowhere, the flower always turning its head towards the Blue Star.

It is like breaking a spell. First, everything is simply white, empty, a second later, you stand in a vast field of asteritropes, an ocean of purple, gently swaying flowers at your feet. Everything smells of sweet innocence, of honey dipped fingers and bittersweet regret. It is a familiar scent, one your body remembers and reacts to with a shudder so strong it rattles deep in your bones; a chill so cold it freezes you on the spot, the slightest movement threatening to shatter you entirely.

What is this grief, this sadness? Is it your own or have you fallen into a sea of tears wept by someone else? Your chest is heavy with a burden, a pulling towards the unknown that is yet so familiar. It is homesickness towards a place you have never been but long to visit.

The flowers shaped like little stars stretch beyond what you think are the edges of this place. If this is a dream, you don’t want to wake up anytime soon, relishing in this peace and quiet.

A peace and quiet that lasts only a moment until you notice it. Not it, him. In the middle of the field, a boy sits, bent over something that demands his complete attention. Dark curls fall against pale skin, his brows pulled tightly together as his fingers work something in his lap. He is wearing a simple white robe, though it is unlike any of the religious wear you've seen on the priests and nuns; it seem ... too old for that. Only after you approach, you see he is folding purple flowers and green steams into a crown.

“Hello?” you say, only now entertaining the idea you might have died and this is the afterlife, the first point before returning to the goddess’ side. It is a strangely tranquil thought. “Can you hear me?”

The boy’s head snaps up, his eyes wide as he momentarily forgets his work, and you take a step back, struck by how bright his steel grey eyes are. They roam over you, up and down, back up again, as he slowly raises to his feet.

“You’re here,” he says, awestruck. “You’re finally here. It is so nice to meet you after all this time.”

His voice is like a punch to your gut. You recognise it immediately, the voice who pulled you back from the darkness.

“You—” Nothing makes sense. “Who are you? What are you?”

“There is nothing to fear,” he says, offering you his hand. The tips of his fingers are purple from handling delicate petals. The crown lies at his bare feet, forgotten. He looks strangely vulnerable.

You take another step back, worry a steady, hard pulse against your neck. The air catches in your lungs. You feel like the ground is opening beneath your feet. “Are you … the goddess? A god?”

The boy blinks, then throws his head back and bursts out laughing, the sound like sweet bells chiming in the wind. “You people love to call everything you do not understand god.”

“Then what are you?” It comes out as a breath, and for a brief second you think it’s fear that seizes your body, but no. You should be afraid and yet instead of frenzy panic there is a calm spreading inside you as if you belong here. You can’t say if it’s the boy’s presence or the familiar scent of wildflowers.

The boy leans his head to the side, his smile as vibrant as early sunlight casting away leftover shadows from a dark night. “Hmmm … the End, perhaps? Or why not just … a friend?”

“The end? My end?”

“No, the end is never simply the end,” he says, shaking his head.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“It may be a rebirth,” he continues. “Or the passing into a new era. Into a new dawn.”

“A new dawn,” you mumble. The realisation makes your knees weak. “Don’t tell me—” You suck in a sharp breath, unable to belief where your thoughts are hurling towards in lightning speed. You kneel onto the soft flowerbed, careful not to crush any flowers. “Why are we here … do you know me by chance?”

“I … cannot say for sure,” he starts slowly, uncertainty turning his features even younger. “I have been watching you since you awoke four moons ago. On that day, I as well awoke from a deep slumber. But I do not know why it is you that I am bound to.”

“Bound to?” Your head spins. “What do you mean?”

“You must have felt it by now, have you not? I am here because of this,” he says, and lifts his hand to point at your right eye. You flinch back as if he smacked you right across your face.

“So you are him,” you whisper, a shudder ripping through your body. “You’re the first Herald. You are Seiros’ Champion.”

The boy smiles.

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balillee · 3 years

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it's clingyduo healing arc headcanon time BABEYY

they spend a lot of time together. almost too much, if you ask some people. but they'll threaten you if you question it.

BIG FELLA TOMMY INNIT IS COOKING DRUGS AGAIN BABY! and my god are they potent to the point that they fucked up ponk for hours (this one is literally canon, i just thought it was really fucking funny)

tubbo's been delving into architecture. he looked at snowchester's walls and thought 'they look shit', and then re-did them all within like two days. his workspeed has pretty much tripled so that he can see his progression and make time for friends :;)

sometimes in the evening the two of them will just sit in tommy's house and play cards or something. do they know any card games? no. do they have a full deck? no. does that stop them? no.

tubbo made space in snowchester so that tommy could build himself a holiday home if he wants - one that won't either get blown up or invaded by someone else. but tommy's too preoccupied on the hotel at the minute, and he wants to make a room in it for tubbo.

canonically, they hold hands. watch as i proceed to cry

they made new matching bandanas after the last two got fucked up during the final fight with dream. tubbo wears a red bandana over his head that's usually covered by earmuffs, and tommy has a green one around his neck.

they have new compasses that they made themselves, but instead of the lodestones being in snowchester and in tommy's house, they're inside of each other's compasses. tommy's compass looks more like a watch, and he glued tubbo's lodestone to the back of it haphazardly, whereas tubbo's compass and lodestone are both keyrings. now they know exactly where the other one is at all times.

tommy is jealous that ranboo might be getting too close to tubbo. he's planning to strike, but he doesn't know how. little do they know, they would be the server's biggest power trio and it would decimate the fandom but oh well

tubbo has fully moved out of tommy's house, but sometimes he forgets that he doesn't live there and just kind of wanders in and roots around through tommy's stuff. tommy doesn't mind though, because they both know that ideally they would live together, but tommy doesn't want to be a part of snowchester, and tubbo's too focussed on building snowchester.

the bench is absolutely covered in graffiti, chips, burn marks and the like. it's mostly just cartoon dicks and ugly stick-caricatures of techno getting beaten up, but it's full of nice memories. they're running out of space to draw them making fun of dream in prison.

#dream smp #dsmp #dream smp headcanon #dsmp headcanon

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cihrp · 3 years

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Witches

WITCHES

NATURE

These witches are able to control ONE of the five elements, fire, air, earth, water, or aether. Witches with this magic are able to summon their element, as well as control it and use it to their will. A witch who is able to manipulate fire can also create smoke and, and a water witch would be able to create ice for example. A witch who uses this type of magic is unharmed by the element they summon.

Powerful nature witches may also be able to summon various types of weather. This magic is much easier to perform in smaller amounts i.e a rain cloud in a kitchen or summoning a single bolt of lightning. Big weather changes such as an ability to summon storms that affect a large area would require more witches for their combined power. They can create rain, wind, hail, lightning, snow, sleet, fog, temperature changes or other occurrences relevant to their element or in a combination of elements that would produce that occurrence..

Fire, air, earth and water are pretty much straight forward, but in CIH, there is a fifth element that is about to be wielded, and an example of an aether witch’s capabilities are listed below:

Aether - Aether witches can manipulate dark energy and dark matter. Witches are able to teleport distances up to half a mile. The distance depends on their own personal capability and age, as older witches have usually honed their magic better. While they can teleport through things, like buildings, it’s imperative for the witch to know where they’re teleporting to as splicing does happen. Dark energy does not respond to the power of gravity fae. Dark energy manipulation also includes the capability to launch an object at high speed and maintain its velocity for a set distance not to exceed one mile.

In manipulating dark matter, witches are able to be completely invisible. They naturally are able to block fae in the electromagnetic spectrum from using capabilities on them. With the capability of invisibility comes stealth as well; dark matter witches can move silently about while invisible although it’s visible if they interact with something.

DIVINER

Divination is the ability to look into the future, the length of time they can see for depends on the strength of the witch. A very strong witch can view as far as a month ahead, whereas weaker witch may only view a few weeks or days. Diviners are also able to see and/or manipulate things that others cannot. This could be reading auras via intuition which is individual to each witch, empathetic connections, reading the history of an object, etc.

Some more versed, stronger diviners may also manipulate time in such a way, they are able to travel through it. Time travelers are able to manipulate time and a powerful witch can travel up to one hour into the past or future whereas a weaker witch may only be able to manage a few minutes. Time manipulation involves the capability of freezing time for anywhere between a few minutes to an hour.

ENCHANTER

Enchantment is the ability to weave magic through a person or an object, so it can perform in a different manner than it was originally intended. For example, an enchanter can make a sweater enchanted with eternal warmth, or hex a human with boils or severe stomach cramps using magic. Enchantment can both be positive and make the lives of all easier, or it can be used for wickedness via hexes and cursing. Essentially enchanting is the use of magic to create a reaction that is either permanent or short term.

This type of magic is often seen as the purest form of witchcraft and certainly one of the more powerful pathways. However, using this type of magic requires a lot of stamina and practice and if used.

An example:

Illusions - Enchanters can weave magic through a person via the mind and create elaborate illusions that can suck a person into a completely different reality. The more seasoned witches can make the illusions dimensional in touch and feel, thus creating a labyrinth that one must navigate in order to break the illusion. Illusions can have lasting effects on the person targeted, such as being unable to tell whether they are existing within the current reality of things or if they are in a memory of illusion.

ALCHEMIST

Alchemy is the ancient art of changing the chemical makeup of one item into another. Historically, this is often associated with the myth of turning base metals into gold, though that skill is extremely complex and limited to very few powerful witches that have cracked that code. Overtime, witches have developed spells and formulas to change the chemical makeup of many things and formed knowledge on potions that will heal wounds and cure things from acne to headaches.

Alchemy in its simplest form is transformation of materials, but also potion making. It can again be used for amazing things such as healing, but also to create poisons etc. Potions cannot be practiced by those who don't possess magic as it simply more than mixing together ingredients requires the power of magic too.

INDUSTRIA

Energy cannot be created nor destroyed, only transferred. For industria witches, they can take life energy from one thing and transfer it whether to themselves or to something else. Energy manipulation takes great concentration as it’s easy for the witch to take too much energy from a living thing and kill it, but they can also harm or accidentally kill themselves if they do not release the energy they are taking in. Too much energy overwhelms the organs and will cause failure quickly while transferring out too much can cause the same results.

Industria magic is about balance and proper transference. Witches who harness energy magic can learn to see auras which help them ascertain the amount of energy they can take without harming, assuming no harm is the intent. Examples are:

Telekinesis - The movement of larger objects requires more energy and witches in this path must not make the mistake of pulling in too much energy into themselves if they’re attempting to move something substantially large.

Reanimation - This animation is not the same as necromancy as there’s no summoning back a person, only reanimating the movement of life without the guise of life. This works better on smaller things and reanimating creatures with larger mass takes more energy which often turns detrimental to both witch and energy source.

Possession - Possession is a craft that needs the most discipline for an energy witch. To occupy another’s body is to be at war with two essences and a race against time. If left too long in another’s body, the witch’s body may die leaving them stuck. Two essences in one body can cause a personality split and if the witch is to occupy the body for another life, they must kill the other essence but to do so will cause a fracturing of their own. To maintain possession is to keep a spell continually alive which requires almost all of their energy, leaving them with no capability to engage in large, power hungry spell casting.

BLOOD (Advanced Species)

At its root, blood magic is about the cost of magic. The thing offered must be equal or greater than to the thing given. Blood magic has some of the most rewarding results but at a high cost.

Witches who engage in blood magic are more ritualistic; their timing must be perfected by celestial events and their sacrifice chosen carefully. While blood magic does not always ask for a life, it will ask for something valuable, something that often brings the petitioner to a line close to too much.

This type of magic is known to use more natural elements in rituals other than blood as well to enhance the power of the ritual. Witches who deal in blood magic are no stranger to death and as they age, are often prone to madnesses for the cost of what they want.

Blood magic is looked down upon but not technically illegal. This type of magic is not its own pathway necessary but more of a gateway, allowing the witch to take on not one but two paths of magic to call from. (i.e. Fire and enchantments, or divination and industria, etc.) To access another path, a witch must use blood magic in order to sacrifice something of equal or greater value to what they’re getting. Blood magic can also be used to enhance spells in both paths.

NECROMANCY

Illegal and seen as a defiance of nature, necromancy is a path that few walk. The price one pays to bring the dead back to life can be something gruesome. Witches who practice necromancy are some of the strongest witches in existence. For awhile, they are able to prevent themselves from being haunted, but in the end the portal blurring the living and the dead can become hard to decipher as they fall deeper and deeper into the imbalance. Blood magic is the more prominent way witches access necromancy but it is a path that can be a calling to witches although most try to resist. Necromancy is the only path that other witches can be bound to by other witches and may lend itself to interesting domain over the dead.

#jcink rp #jcink premium #gothic rp #supernatural rp #site buzz #crownedinhorns #cihrp #witches #updates

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nikkoliferous · 4 years

Text

Phase One: Thor

Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO

My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux

—

If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.

But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.

now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it

“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”

I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).

Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.

…is it, though?

I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.

I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.

Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram:

This is a goat:

This is Loki:

Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.

This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all.

Always happy to have cause to point out that

Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.

People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.

Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?

Asgardian exceptionalism FTW

I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂

Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??

This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao

—

“Looking for answers,” my foot.

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??

#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y

—

What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy

Just wanna remind everyone that this

is why he’s smiling during this scene

because it makes me laugh every time. 😂

—

My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭

But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.

Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring.

#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?

Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.

Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂

JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?

Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.

Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂

…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?

On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️

lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger

Honestly, though, big mood.

Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway.

Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.

…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.

Ok, first of all, no.

Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.

Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?

—

Please stop hurting me.

Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather.

—

…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.

Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.

Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is.

I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.

This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.

So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?

…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.

#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol

Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.

But you won’t.

You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒

Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess…

That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD.

First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol

Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol

Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.

Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.

lmao you little shit

So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.

But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.

For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.

Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.

I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.

I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.

The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:

—

Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.

There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.

The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit.

There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.

“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.

COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.

No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.

And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.

Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.

Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.

WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol

#phase one: thor #loki meta #thor meta #odin's a+ parenting #frigga's b+ parenting #topic: thor and loki's broken relationship #loki #thor #heimdall #lady sif #the warriors 3 #jane foster #ragnarok cinematic universe #mcu #topic: asgardian hypocrisy #topic: asgardian militarism #topic: odin's family dynamic

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adultingautistic · 4 years

Note

To the anon asking about auditory processing disorder and accents: some people have the idea that having difficulty understanding accents is racist. Which is obviously absurd since (like you said) you're not choosing not to understand, but it's still a thing. As someone who struggles with faces, I can tell you mixing up people of the same race is also perceived that way. I guess the assumption is that you're pretending not to recognize/understand people? Idk but I hate it.

I hate this too, though I know where it comes from.

It has to do with the brain and it’s pattern-recognition abilities.

If a person grows up and lives in a place where everyone around them is the same race, then their brain learns to pick out more nuanced patterns in those faces. Now let’s say 10 people of another race, that they have very little experience seeing, move into the town. The brain sees the larger differences in the faces, the ones that society deems “racial” differences, such as eye shape, nose shape, skin tone, etc. Because the person is not used to recognizing patterns in these type of faces, their brain gets stuck on these more obvious differences, and cannot find the smaller nuances that would allow them to distinguish individuals from each other.

This leads to the person saying that the people of the unfamiliar race “all look the same.”

Of course these people do not all look the same, and to them, who have grown up seeing their kind of face, this is an absurd statement, and feels racist.

Using the phrase “X race of people all look the same” has become a very racist thing to say in America for this reason. It is take to mean that the speaker isn’t bothering to notice the nuanced features of people of the other race, when in reality it comes from racial isolation. The thing is, racial isolation does tend to lead towards racist mentalities, as a person who has no experience with another race will tend to think of them as “outsiders” and otherfy them.

So inherently, there is nothing racist about not being able to distinguish the more nuanced patterns of other races’ faces. It’s just how the brain works, and how it does pattern matching. A person will be able to distinguish more nuances in types of faces that they see all the time, and will have more difficulty with types of faces they see less often, simply because more exposure to the brain increases familiarity.

The same is true for accents. A person who is used to hearing one type of accent will have no trouble understanding people who use that accent, but a new accent takes time for the brain to learn and understand.

The problem for autistic people though, is that our brains take longer to process and recognize new patterns than allistic brains. So whereas an allistic person might be able to understand a new accent within a few minutes, it might take us many days of talking to the new person to understand their accent.

It’s unfortunately a very ableist sentiment, because allistics are able to differentiate people from another race but are assumed to be choosing not to do it, whereas people with face-blindness are not able to distinguish between new types of faces for a much longer period or perhaps ever.

As a person who struggles with face blindness and auditory processing disorder, I can completely relate to this, and I have gotten the double-whammy of being called racist because I can’t recognize a face OR understand a voice.

Depending upon who I’m with and who the racist-accuser is, I might chose to just ignore them, or I might try to explain about face blindness.

Not only can I not remember a person’s face, but I also struggle to tell what race they are from their appearance, and this is also considered racist, as saying “I don’t see race” is a white way of saying “I don’t care about your race or your experiences because of it”, which is still an allistic problem- because of course the allistic can see what race they are, they’re just choosing to ignore it.

So for people like me, who really can’t tell what race a person is sometimes, this is another struggle against ableism.

No, I really can’t see your face, it’s about seeing itself, not about social choices, and I really can’t understand your voice, it’s about hearing itself, not about social choices, and I really can’t see what race you are, because race is a social construct and I struggle with social!

I look at it this way. If a total stranger accuses me of being racist, I ignore them, because they don’t know me and don’t have enough facts about me to make that judgement. When my close black friend tells me I said something racist, I listen to her, because she DOES know me, and it’s part of our friendship that I listen to her feelings and understand why she said that.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #face blindness #auditory processing disorder #racism #ableism #ask

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 4 years

Text

You’re Invited

Is Karrion Kross going to walk out of Takeover XXX as NXT champion? Given how NXT seems to be keeping their championships on heel characters (Cole, Ciampa, Bayzsler, O’Reilly/ Fish, Andrade, and even Io was technically a heel when she won) whereas babyface characters are lucky to get more than one successful defence (Gargano, Black, McIntyre, Ember Moon, Sane, Ripley, Zayn), I’d say that there’s a very high probability that we’re looking at a new champ this weekend.

So in anticipation of that, I thought it was a good time to post a fic I wrote featuring Kross and, of course, Scarlett. Mind ye the content warnings, for there is much filth to be found within.

Pairing: Karrion Kross + Scarlett Bordeaux x reader

Word count: 3,980

Content warnings: graphic sexual content

It was bad enough when all you had to deal with was hearing them but now they insist- she insists- on leaving the door at least partially open so that you get an eyeful every time you head back to your glorified cupboard at the end of the hallway. Anyone could see them, of course, and you know that others have. Even people who have no business wandering down the dimly lit passage get drawn there by the noises, the desperate moans and animal grunts that echo there every night, sometimes more than once a night. With the number of couples working at NXT and the number of gorgeous singles besides, outbursts of passion are pretty common but no two people are as proud, as horny or as crazily into each other as Karrion Kross and Scarlett Bordeaux. Their lascivious teasing in the ring is the mildest type of foreplay for them, practically Victorian compared to what they’re like backstage. They spend so much time banging each other you’re amazed they can walk, much less wrestle. Every time you notice them at the Performance Center gym, you wonder why they bother because it’s pretty clear they’re getting a more intense workout elsewhere.

Everyone is aware of what they’re like, either because they’ve “caught” them in the act or because they’ve heard the stories from half a dozen people who have. But no one’s quite as aware of it as you are because you’re the one who’s job actually requires you to walk past their shared dressing (more like undressing) room. It’s no surprise that management stashed them away in a place where almost nobody had to go. They clearly knew what they were in for and figured they’d give them what privacy they could. Unfortunately for you, you’re the “almost” in “almost nobody” and somehow every single time you shuffle or scurry past, they’re going at it like they’re in heat.

At first, you figured that they just spent every minute they weren’t in the ring or on camera fucking. It seemed possible. But lately you’ve come to realize that part of what they’re doing is for show and the show is intended for an audience of one. An audience of almost nobody.

For about the first week, you’d hear what was going on and creep past the door, shame coating you like you’d just sneezed all over yourself. You’d take extra care with your little tray of specimens as you slunk into what was fancifully referred to as your lab before you closed the door, letting it shut millimeter by millimeter so that even dogs couldn’t have heard the latch click. But somehow, she’d heard. Perhaps she could just sense you there, the weird little lab tech testing the blood and spit and urine to make sure everyone is healthy and no one was juicing. (Unofficially, you also test to make sure no one’s picked up anything communicable because with the amount of hookups that happen between employees, anything of that sort could become an epidemic in short order.)

So it wasn’t long before you found yourself making your way down the hallway with your usual mix of shame and dread only to find the two of them going at it with the door partway open, She was on his lap, riding him like she was trying to pump water out of a leaking boat, like lives depended on her success. Her back was pressed to his chest, his teeth gnashing against her milky flesh, every muscle and vein in his powerful neck defined. One of his arms was wrapped snugly around her tiny waist while he furiously manipulated her pussy with the fingers of his other hand. Snarls and growls that sounded like something rising from the dark center of the Earth emanated from him while she moaned in a perfect mix of ecstasy and desperation. She clung to the door handle with one elegant, white-knuckled hand and as her keening began to reach what you already recognized as its final stage, she tilted her head towards you and opened her eyes. She stared directly into you where you had stopped, frozen and mesmerized by what you were seeing. She hitched her hips just a little, delaying her climax a moment and giving you a good look at the size of him as he drove into her, giving you an opportunity to marvel that her petite, doll-like frame could even accommodate him. Finally, she let out a sort of yowl, loud even for her, as she shattered around him, eyes still fixed on yours. Her tongue passed hungrily over her bee-stung lips that curved into a knowing, sadistic smile. His pace, already punishing, became frantic and your natural self-consciousness overtook you and propelled you into your airless closet. You barely managed to get the box of samples you were carrying to the table before it slipped from your hands. You were gasping for air as if you were the one would been getting fucked by a wild brute, hands shaking and wondering why the hell she’d felt the need to involve you, however indirectly, in their intimate moment.

Possibly, she’d found it curious that someone as resolutely unglamorous as you had found her way into a business like this. You weren’t ugly and you liked to think that you jazzed up your unremarkably pretty features by being a little hip- shaggy asymmetrical haircut, layers of vintage clothes that exaggerated your dowdiness to the point of eccentricity. Perhaps she found you funny and peculiar and that made her curious to see how you’d react to getting a close look at their godly beauty and passion.

Perhaps she’d heard that you’d recently broken up with your wrestler boyfriend, who was way too hot to be with you to begin with, that he’d dumped your ass by telling you that he’d been banging someone else for the last four months of your seven-month relationship, and she figured that it would be fun to tease you or to remind you of where you stood on the beauty scale in this place. Maybe her bitchy character wasn’t an act.

More likely, she’d figured out that you were a captive audience and the idea of having another set of eyes on her, a witness to just how unbelievably gorgeous she and her husband were, was a turn on. Maybe she’d even calculated that someone like you was likely to have a bit of a perverted voyeuristic streak and figured that she might be able to blackmail you if she needed something from you in the future.

If that was what she’d figured, you’re embarrassed to admit how right she was. You’ve taken to bringing a change of underwear to work because seeing them leaves you soaked every time. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, the way the electricity shoots through your body and once your work is done, once you’re confident you’re alone and they’ve gone, you’ve frequently taken to getting yourself off to relieve just a bit of the pressure building up inside you. You come so fast it’s humiliating, like you’ve turned into a pubescent boy, going off at the moment of contact. You don’t want to think about how much trouble you’d be in if you got caught like this, fingers buried in your pussy, thumb feverishly swirling around your clit, the room filled with filthy, slurping sounds as you give yourself that little release.

You’ve tried just slinking past the door without pausing to admire them, watching their amazing bodies writhe and smack against each other, but you can’t. The second time you saw them, he had her splayed out on a table on her stomach in front of him, massive hands curled around her thighs as he slammed into her with such force you couldn’t fathom how the table didn’t collapse, You drank in the expanse of his back, how the lines of his tattoos subtly highlighted the muscles underneath, his sculpted ass, his perfectly round balls as they slapped against her again and again, the sinful, wet sound making you dizzy. Aware that you were on the verge of collapse, you’d quickly tried to walk away but an upward shift in her mewling as you made to leave had you turning back. Her face was flat on the table, turned back so that she could see him taking her but also, although you couldn’t figure out how, so that she could see you. She wanted you there as she came, screaming, on his cock, a perfect flush creeping up her neck and onto her creamy cheeks. This time, you stayed to watch the full performance, falling back weakly against the wall. You imagined yourself underneath them, tongue working over their joined sex, the feeling of both of their juices coating your face as they cum.

While you wouldn’t characterize yourself as vanilla, exactly, the fantasies you have about being with the two of them are like nothing you’ve ever dreamt. In those fantasies, you’re the kind of person who’s bold enough to just walk in as they’re giving you their regular show, confident that this is what they’ve been wanting from you. You picture her rising to greet you, easing herself off his engorged cock and pushing you to your knees in front of him. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, she stands behind you and pushes your mouth down on him, rocking you back and forth, having you suck the taste of her off him and forcing you further down until you’ve taken all of him in, your throat constricting, tears and spit leaking from you as you cast your eyes up, wanting to know that you’re doing a good job. And the fiery look in his eyes would tell you that you are doing a very good job, and he’d give an almost imperceptible nod to her, which she understands as a sign to slide her hand between your legs, where she starts fingering you with the skill of a concert violinist. The fantasy ends as you cum, your whole body shuddering in waves that roll from the inside out, which triggers his release, the liquid pouring into your throat with such force that it backs all the way up into your mouth. Behind you, Scarlet gives a satisfied purr and pushes all her fingers inside your engorged pussy, rocking deep into you and letting you ride out the cascade of aftershocks of your orgasm.

Tonight, you’re worked even harder than usual. Not only is there the standard battery of post-match tests but you’re given a list of secondary tests done by an outside lab that need to be checked against yours. This is always a pain, lining up one set of numbers against the other, checking for inconsistencies in the columns of results. At the best of times, this is challenging because of the attention to detail required but tonight, as if she knows what you’re facing, Scarlet decides to make it even more difficult for you to think about your work.

You can hear the sounds from well off and your feet grow heavy, like you’re walking through treacle, desperately wanting to get to your safe room but knowing that you’re going to be transfixed as you always are. And she’s truly pulled out all the stops. She’s completely nude, draped over a chair, legs open wide so that you have your first clear view of her pussy, as perfect and manicured and velvety as the rest of her. She’s shockingly quiet, which is even more unnerving than her being loud, as he kneels in front of her and buries his face between her legs.

Almost immediately, she shifts so that you can have a better view of what he’s doing, his tongue swirling around her opening and then thrusting inside her, languidly at first and then with increasing force, her jaw dropping as if she’s about to scream, but only strangled sounds come out. Then she’s staring at you with a crazy, lusty expression, playing with her nipples and bucking her hips against his mouth.

“God it’s so good,” she squeals, pinching and twisting her little red orbs hard enough that you can feel a ghost pain in your own. “Fuck it’s so good.”

Her husband gives her an appreciative growl but it’s you she’s staring at when she says it. Without shifting her seductive glance, she runs her fingers down her body and gently separates her pussy lips, giving him greater access and giving you an even better view as his mouth and tongue- no less impressive a muscle than any of the others in his godlike body- work their magic on her, moving inside and out like quicksilver until she practically levitates from the chair and releases an obscene kind of howl.

He makes sure she’s good and finished before he rises, fist already pumping his impressive erection, twisting and jerking until he releases over her face and chest. Seeing her there, running her fingers over the liquid on her skin, her eyes cast lovingly up at him, and her lips, glazed with his cum, settling into a blissful smile, you think she’s the most desirable thing you’ve ever seen.

This time when you stumble back into your office, there’s no waiting, you push down your pants and your underwear and fuck yourself to orgasm three times in quick succession, your mind so full of the disgusting things you want both of them to do to you that you can hardly separate one image from the next. You lay on the floor panting and trying to collect yourself for an indeterminate period of time before you hear a strange thud against the door. It doesn’t sound like a knock but you open the door anyway, only to be greeted by Scarlet’s confident, smiling face only inches from your own.

“I’m so sorry, I tripped on my heel,” she tells you. He’s standing a few feet away, eyes zeroed in on you and smirking, confirming that he’s fully aware of what’s been going on, even if he hasn’t been as obvious about it as she has.

She keeps smiling and you see her nostrils twitch just a little, painfully aware of what scent she’s picking up. Her pink tongue flashes quickly over her lips. Then she turns and leaves without another word, murmuring something to him as they make their way down the hall, something that makes them both giggle. You don’t want to imagine what that could be.

Before you get down to the work you still have to finish, you clean and disinfect your entire workspace. You don’t have any active tests, of course, but you’re terrified that some stray molecule is somehow going to find its way into a test tube and your horrible secret will come out and everyone will know what a little pervert you are, something even you didn’t know until they showed you. It’s past midnight when you finally drop off your annotated files and slump into your car.

The next day what you see and hear in the hallway scares you half to death. Their door is closed. It’s quiet. You’ve seen their car in the parking lot, so you know they’re there but there’s no performance. You’ve been cast out. Immediately the panicked thoughts start piling up: you completely misinterpreted, nay, you imagined their interest in having you as an audience. It’s a horrifying thought and for the life of you, as you replay the images in your mind, you’ve no idea how you could have been that wrong. The best you can hope for is that they’ve only asked to be moved to another locker room and that they haven’t gone to management railing about the little freak with the office next to them.

Checking your emails, you note with some surprise that the work you submitted last night was flawless, but you’re too terrified of what might be about to happen for that to give you much relief. As you try to sort through what you have to deal with today, tears keep welling up in your eyes. You’re a weird little creep.

It’s a few hours later when he walks into your office, closing and locking the door behind him. That only ever means one thing and so you stand with your hands raised, determined to head him off at the pass and hoping he’s not going to blackmail you.

“Look, I only get numbered samples, never anything with a name. I have no idea who belongs to what, so if there’s something in any of them that’s going to get you in trouble, there’s nothing I can do to help you.”

He scowls at you before speaking. “Is that seriously what you think I’m here for?”

You raise your eyebrows and shrug in response. You’ve had a half a dozen guys come to you like this, locking you in as if that can change anything, and it’s always been for the same reason. But apparently this time is different.

He casually beckons you over but you stay rooted in place, afraid once again that you’re about to be blackmailed.

“Come here,” he snaps impatiently.

“Why?”

He huffs and crosses the distance between you in two steps, his hand gripping your wrist with awesome power even though you can tell he’s not exerting himself whatsoever. He starts to pull you from behind your desk and that’s enough to make you acquiesce, scurrying around so that you’re standing in front of him, close enough that you can feel the heat from his body.

His fierce eyes bear down on you, calculating and evaluating.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

Very unsteadily, you comply, giving an undignified little squeak when he pushes you forward against the desk. Immediately, you feel the weight of him against you, holding you in place but also holding you upright as your head spins. He dips his head down so that his breath roars into your ear, condensing against the delicate skin. His hands press against your hips and he leans in further, drawing his tongue lightly up the column of your neck. You’re shaking uncontrollably, which makes him give a soft laugh. His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, snaking around to the front. One ghosts down over the little ripple of fat on your imperfect belly and over your too-sharp hip bone, drifting into your panties with the touch of someone who knows he’s welcome.

“You like me too, don’t you?” he rasps.

You wonder whether he means that he likes you and knows that you like him, or that he knows you like her but that he’s sure you like him as well, but the thought disappears as he curls two long fingers into you, slowly pumping them in and out. You feel him give a knowing, almost sinister smile against your neck as he brings his other hand to your lips, pressing his fingers into your mouth. Instinctively you suckle on them, lolling your tongue over them as he mirrors what he’s doing to your pussy, needy little moans leaking from you.

“Poor little hungry baby. So fucking hungry, aren’t you?”

You nod vigorously and he picks up the speed of his fingers in your sex.

“And we’ve been so mean.” He chuckles at this and presses his thumb hard into your clit, almost enough to drive you over the edge.

Sensing how close you are, he withdraws his hand and you sob, wondering if he’s going to leave you like that. He lets you wait a beat or two, stepping back from you entirely, and you can feel his eyes on you as you tremble with need but then he hoists your skirt up over your hips, slides your panties down your thighs a little and roughly grabs your ass with both hands. He makes a low, pleased sound.

“Oh yes,” he hums, pinching the flesh hard on each cheek. Then you hear the rustle of him undoing his pants and the realization comes that, yes, the man is going to fuck you out of your misery, it’s not just more teasing.

“Take these off,” he orders, jerking at your already half-removed panties. You hurriedly comply and he immediately whisks them away from you, pushing you roughly over the desk and kicking your legs apart.

There is still some teasing left in him, you realize, as he presses the crown of his cock against your aching flesh. He drags it between your ass cheeks pressing just a little against the hole, and for a moment you’re terrified that that’s how he’s going to take you, because while you certainly don’t hate anal, you know that you can’t possibly stretch to accommodate his size, even more imposing now that you can feel it against you. Without meaning to, you let out a terrified little mewl and he laughs.

“Don’t worry, not this time baby. I know what you need.”

And with that he takes a few shallow thrusts inside you before burying himself to the hilt and beginning in earnest.

“How many times have you thought about this?” he growls, increasing his pace slowly and steadily, hand pressing down on your back to hold you still, so that each stroke hits your g-spot. His other hand connects with your clit, fingers twisting and pinching like nothing you’ve ever felt and you have to bite down hard on the fleshy part of your own hand to keep from wailing. There’s still a steady stream of whines and whimpers that escape you, sounds that seem to please him.

“You have to be quiet now but next time I’m gonna make you scream.”

You’re surprised to hear that there’s going to be a next time and you can’t help but wonder, can’t help but hope that “next time” she’ll be joining you.

“Can you cum like this?” he hisses.

“Yes,” you gasp in response as he increases the intensity of his movements.

It takes seconds only before you feel like your body turns inside out with pleasure, like you’re split open and something completely new unfurls its wings, ecstatic at being free. He keeps fucking you through it, his dark laughter sounding distant as you try to come to terms with your new body, quivering and boneless, all raw nerves and bliss. You feel your new self coalesce and contract around his cock inside you, closing around him as his orgasm follows in the wake of yours. He falls over you, bracing himself on his forearms so that he continues to hover above you. As he comes down he bites into your shoulder, forcing you to stifle a scream.

It’s a long moment, thick with the sounds of your breathing, before he pulls back and out of you. You roll yourself over against the desk, knowing that there’s no chance your legs will support you.

He gives you a cocky almost-smile as he tucks himself back into his pants, apparently amused by your helpless state. He stands silently until you awkwardly raise yourself and smooth your skirt down. Then he steps close to you and kisses you, softly and sweetly, his tongue flicking along your lips but no more, and you’re more confused than ever.

He goes to leave but fixes you with a piercing gaze before he opens the door.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to fuck her. But this-“ he gestures to you and him, “this is just me and you.”

And it’s then that you can see it: he knows that it’s her who’s seduced you, that both of you are drunk on her charms, and dangerously so. This is his little way of keeping his bearings and helping you keep yours because you’ll both be safer if you’re there to steady each other.

#karrion kross imagine #killer kross imagine #scarlett bordeaux imagine #wrestling fanfic #nxt imagine #wayward wrestle writing #karrion kross x reader #scarlett bordeaux x reader

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unexpected-possibilities · 4 years

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So! Let’s talk mental health and extended lifespans for magic users!

This has been a topic of a lot of thought for me, and I’ve landed on a couple of headcanons that aren’t necessarily close to how it works, but they sound plausible and work within the range of things that I want in my fics.

First things first, I’ve decided to go with a theory that it takes about a decade of regular magic use to extend the lifespan of a human mage/wizard/witch, etc. This means basically using magic with frequency- a couple times a year with low-strength spells isn’t gonna give you immortality, whereas daily or every other day use will, no matter what level the magic is on. Over that decade, the magic user still ages relatively normally, maybe a few hitches here and there(I decided that Zoe blames magic for being short) but otherwise they’re not really stuck until that 10th year or so. So I headcanoned Douxie as having begun regular magic use at the age of 9 (quite early by any means.) which leaves him stuck at 19, assuming he always kept up with magic over the years. I put Zoe at starting magic at 11, leaving her stuck at 23. Now, wait a minute, that math just doesn’t sound right, you say. I’m saying that it took about 12 years for her extended lifespan to kick in because of on-and-off magic use while trying to hide her abilities.

Magical creatures, on the other hand, age slower naturally. Trolls seem to have much-extended lifespans, but they do age. Vendel appeared younger in the 1100′s because of this, and considerably older in Trollhunters, a natural process of aging(and maybe all the stress of leading a town of trolls for over a thousand years.) Now, wouldn’t Gunmar and Bular have aged as well? Bular, I would say, absolutely should look a bit older, along with Blinky and Aarrrghh and Draal and anyone else who showed up then. I’m willing to let that slide on account of not wanting to redo character models that significantly. Gunmar was sucked into the Darklands, which I can excuse as having an altered way of interacting with time. HOWEVER, trolls do age that much slower, and maybe it’s possible the Vendel we see in the 12th century is simply already old. Charlemange is at least a thousand years old I would say, probably older. Who knows how dragon aging works, especially in regards to shapeshifting ones. I would presume that their interaction with magic, as with mages, would leave them unaging and therefore their form never shows indication of age.

So what about mental health? Well, trolls already live ‘slower’ lives, less eventful on a day to day basis, takes them longer to mature, things just aren’t as quick as in a human life. I’d say most trolls would be decently well off, besides the lingering affects of living through various disasters, wars, and other traumatizing events. The amount of stress that a troll like Vendel goes through probably has a bit of an exacting toll. I don’t blame him for getting irritable.

But a human immortal would not be able to live in a slowly moving society like the trolls do. As far as we know, very little has changed for the actual process of Trollish society. Human society advances quickly, as we know. Not only that, but a human immortal would be basically alone in regards to all of this.

Let’s start with Merlin. Grumpy, irritable, easily annoyed or frustrated, and constantly busy or stressed. And he is old. When would Merlin have started magic? Or was he on and off with magic in his life? Did he grow up at the same time as Arthur? I think? I don’t know but it would be neat to find out a little about his history. Merlin also seems to cling to the few immortal friends he has, between Morgana, Arthur, and then Galahead. And he has really no patience to put up with a maturing apprentice. Also, how many apprentices has he had? Both he and Morgana would indicate there being multiple. What happened with them, and where are they now? What has Douxie heard about their ends, because so far, up until him, it wasn’t good things.

Morgana is a case where I think her immortality never comes much into play, but it does make me wonder how she got to be Merlin’s apprentice (again, would be neat to hear about). I’d really love to know more about the whole Camelot history but I’m guessing some of that was cut, seeing as how we get little tidbits but nothing so substantial as, say, Merlin’s history prior to Douxie.

Now onto Douxie, who was really the main part of this post originally. Where do I even begin? Poor guy absolutely has a whole host of issues as I’ve discussed in my fics, but I’m really guessing over the years he’s formed a few, namely a distinct rejection sensitivity, probably some abandonment issues, and I’d have to say depression and anxiety as I’ve already talked about. Think about how much happens in one human lifetime. There’s tons of things that would be depressing as all hell, not to mention that if he ever makes mortal friends, he has to be very aware that they are going to die well before he ever will. Wars, natural disasters, crises, and so on and so forth. Merlin gave the boy increased anxiety and an unhealthy amount of stress, and then left moppet!Douxie with a list of things to do while he waits for his master to come back. And ultimately, Merlin acts like he forgot his apprentice even existed. That could have only destroyed him on the inside, and especially to lose Merlin just about the same day he finally got him back. I could talk for days about what the world has probably done to Douxie, but instead I’ll leave that up to my fics to elaborate on.

We don’t know much about Zoe, besides things here and there and that she’s known Douxie and Archie for a while. I’d have to guess she spent a lot of time with Doux and Arch over the years just traveling along with them. But I’d imagine that sometimes they split up, things changed, etc etc and they always found their way back to each other again. I haven’t really delved into what her mental stuff looks like, but not to fear, because it is certainly coming(in fic form). But much like Douxie, she probably also went through an assortment of traumatic events. Humans do not do well on their lonesome, so I can imagine that she probably chose to stick with other magic users for the most part to protect her emotions. I’m not confident Douxie could really bring himself to do that, however, seeing as he cares so deeply for other beings.

Conclusion? The only reason Douxie and Zoe made it through nearly a thousand years of crazy human bullsh*t with very little mental health support for the majority of the time is that they had each other and Archie.

#my ramblings #toa headcanons #douxie headcanons #long post #verrrrrrryyyyyy long post sorry lol #douxie #toa zoe #toa merlin #toa morgana #toa wizards #wizards #wizards spoilers.#toa archie #this is a lot of writing lol #but im glad to be putting my thoughts out there somewhere and in a comprehensive way #anyways have fun with this one folks

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